Doing As You Please

At the time I am writing this, I am dying. My alcohol consumption has reached their limits and left me nauseous and tired. My wife and nurse have both forced me to get some bed rest, but I have no time to sleep.



This letter if for whoever chooses to read it. I understand if my dear Amelia chooses not to read this, although I pray she does. But I am the richest man in the city. My death is sure to cause questions to arise. This letter is to let others now.



I am sure I will die before Amelia will wake in the morning. I have to let her know why death has been a recent visitor to the household. She needs to know that Wilson's death and my own were neither her fault, but mine. It was my fault that our son died and my fault that I drank myself to death.



Amelia and I had three children; Elizabeth, Helen, and Wilson. Elizabeth have grown, moved away, and started their own families, but Wilson stayed behind. As the only son, he was expected to take over the family business and live in this manor with his own family. Our name and this building have been in this family for decades, passed down from father to son.



Wilson was a good son. A quiet boy who preferred to study and read than fight in the dirt with the other boys. Never did us any problem and tried hard at life. He did as he was told and didn’t fight back. He was a born business man. If Wilson was alive now, I would be honored to give him the manor and the company. Instead of him, Elizabeth will be given everything. Even she agrees Wilson would be better off with it.



A few minutes ride away, there was another household. They had money, but nothing compared to mine. They were newer money, the grandfather having started a business, and we wouldn't converse with him if it wasn't for their oldest daughter.



The name of their daughter escapes me, but I recall she was beautiful and had a fascination with Wilson. Although Wilson didn't seem to return the feelings for her, Amelia and I attempted to talk to him about the girl. She was everything we wanted for his wife. Wilson didn't seem to understand.



It was obvious that Wilson preferred the company of the girl's older brother, John. I only knew of two ways John and my son were alike. They both came from rich families and expected to carry on the families business. I will never understand why my son was attracted to the man because I never knew him. If I could, I would sit down to dinner with him.



Amelia and I knew the boys were friends. For months, we watched as they grew closer and closer. After almost a year, I discovered how close they were.



We were having a party. A grand party with many guests’. John's family was a part of the guests and I endlessly tried to convince Wilson to speak with their daughter. Each time he refused, he would wonder off to John. After some time, I noticed Wilson was missing.



He wasn't in the dining hall, or outside. He was upstairs in his room, lying on his bed and nearly naked with John lying underneath of him in a similar state. They were kissing furiously before I pulled away.



I didn't have time to react properly. I forced Wilson off the other boy and told him to get out. He grabbed his shirt and ran without a fight. When he was gone, Wilson started to hurriedly tell me that what I saw wasn’t what I thought it was. That John had spilt wine on himself and whiles he was changing he slipped and brought Wilson with him. The story sounded ridiculous, even now it sounds like a foolish account. Before he could continue the excuse, I slapped him across the face and told him to quiet down.



How I regret that day and the days that would come.



I never told Amelia what I had found. I tortured my only son endlessly. For days after I found him, I ignored him. Whenever he attempted to speak to me, I would push him away without a word. After a while, my anger broke.



I will never forget running into Wilson’s room and the words I yelled at him.



“You are a disappointment to the family.” I told him. That was all I told him before he begged for forgiveness. I quieted him with a cuff to the wall. “Enough! I will not have a sniveling child as a son. You are never to interact with that family and certainly not with that queer.”



For months, I would brush off my son. He never attempted to get back on my good side. He, in fact, avoided getting near me. Even during dinner, he would skip it or sit closely to his mother. The entire time, I never felt the need to apologize. The thought never crossed my mind.

It was obvious he was disobeying me after a couple weeks. He was smiling happily, practically skipping across the hall. I allowed myself to hope he had found a girl and was smitten with her. Inside, I knew that he hadn’t. He was with John again.



I followed him one day. My mind was filled with anger that my son was disobeying not only me, but also what was considered normal. I don’t care to believe in normal anymore. If I could, I would let the two parade around town and shout their love. If anyone attempted to hurt them for it, they would have me and my guards ready to arrest them.



I followed Wilson into the forest. Wilson carried off for what seemed like miles. It must’ve been shorter, but my aging body had been flagging. Wilson led me to a small cabin that looked abandoned. Walls were falling down, paint peeling off, the ceiling crashing in, and dust and cobwebs covering every area. Wilson walked in with no fear.



The small window of the cabin had broken and covered with grime and dust. I didn’t even have to look in the window to know who he was seeing. When I saw John’s blonde hair, my blood boiled. I would have broken in and ripped the two away, but I didn’t dare ruin my suit from the dust. I went back home and waited for Wilson in my study.



Hours later, a servant brought him to my study. He had dust on his jacket and evidence of his relations showing from his pulled hair and bruised lips. I told him to have a seat.



“Do you think I am an idiot?” I asked when he was seated. Wilson gave me a false look of curiosity. I refrained from yelling at him. “I saw you. With that man again.”



Wilson’s face was of absolute shock. His jaw had fall, eyes were wide, and his face pale as a spirit. I waited for him to give me an excuse, when none came, I continued my angry rant.



“Do you not realize what you are doing to this family? You are to carry the name! Take the business and give your sons your name!” I can’t recall ever being as angry with my son as I was then. “If you continue this silly stunt with the man, you won’t only cause the Franklin name to end with you, but also cause any of Elizabeth’s and Helen’s families to be disgraced. We won’t be the fool of the city. You will be killed or arrested. You’re mother, sisters, and I will be a joke to our peers. Do you really want to do that to your family?”



He was shaking his head slowly and looking at the ground. I slammed my hand on the desk.



“Look at me, Wilson, and tell me you don’t want that.”



Wilson looked up. His face was red and eyes were downward. I knew he felt ashamed, embarrassed, and scared, but I continued to press on.



“No, Father.” He whispered.



“Then why do you continue to fornicate with another man?” I continued to yell at him.



“Because it isn’t a silly stunt!” Wilson yelled. I nearly jumped in surprise. I never heard Wilson yell before that moment. “And he’s not just a man. He’s my lover. I love him father and he loves me.”



I slapped him hard against the cheek. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes but didn’t allow a sign of pain on his face. When he looked back at me, my hand print was imprinted in red on his cheek.



“Don’t you dare say that.” I hushed. My mind was confused at the time, but I am sure I was full of hate when I learned of Wilson’s true self.



“I can and I have.” Wilson responded. I didn’t slap him a second time. I punched him in the face as firm as I could. Wilson nearly fell out of his chair at the hit but managed not to show a trace of fear. Pain was evident, but not fear. The blow was harder than I expected. There was blood slipping from his nose.



“You will do no such thing.” I stood up straight and walked back around my desk. “Your mother and I are going to find you a bride. I don’t care if you feel nothing for her, you will marry her. If you ever leave the house, you will have a servant with you. One more mishap from you and you’ll be out of the family. Understand?”



“You can try to do whatever you please, Father.” He said with his hand holding his nose. “You can try to force John and me away from one another, make me marry a woman I don’t know, or banish us from our homes, but you will never keep us away from each other. I love him, Father, and nothing will change that. Even if I was put under constant watch, we will always find a way to be together.”



“Get out!” I yelled. “I don’t want to hear another word about this. Leave my study now!”



Wilson stood from his chair. He held his head high in the air as he left the room proudly with his broken nose. I refused to feel guilt for hurting my son. I sat in my chair and began looking through papers for addresses of rich families who had a suitor for my son.



I never realized how much the boy must have changed Wilson. Before they met, Wilson was a shy lad who preferred reading his books than fighting with the other children. Now he was yelling at me, doing what he wanted, and refusing to listen to me.



Amelia and I chose a girl whose name I believe was Grace. When he settled on her, we invited her and her family to dinner for the two to get acquainted.



“Wilson.” I greeted with a forced smile when Wilson walked into the room. His angry brown eyes bore into mine and a frown was held on his face. “Your mother and I had found a wife for you.” He made no reaction to the news. “A smart woman named Grace. I believe she should make you forget your ridiculous affair.”



He left the room without a word. A week later, he sat at the table with a large smile on his face as he talked to Grace. They talked about books, plays, and history. Both seemed to get along well. I allowed myself to believe Wilson was smitten with the girl.



About two weeks later in the middle of the night, I was awakened from my slumber for an unknown reason. I decided to get up for a moments time to retrieve a drink of water before I went back to bed. When I walked by Wilson’s room, I heard footsteps. Deciding my son was awake as well, I opened his door to ask if he wanted to join me. I was shocked to find Wilson sitting on his bed in only his bottoms and John getting dressed.



I didn’t leave or simply yell at the two. I stomped into the room and forcefully gripped John around the arm. He yelped in pain and tried to pull away from my hold.



“You ungrateful bastard!” I yelled. I barely noticed Wilson jumping off of his bed. Even when Wilson grabbed John’s arm and attempted to pull him away, I didn’t notice. When Wilson punched me, my grip stayed strong. “I want you out of my home! Leave my goddamn son alone! If you so happen think about coming here, I will kill you.”



When I reached the door, still yelling at John, both men were crying for me to calm down and allow them to explain. I launched John out the door, half-dressed. He landed face-first on the hard pavement. I slammed the door shut and turned to Wilson.



Wilson was standing there with a look of clear sadness. For the first time since I discovered my son's love, I was affected by it. My anger burned away into remorse. My voice was still harsh when I talked to him, but I didn't yell.



"Go to your room. Don't come out until I give you permission to." I turned around and left him standing there in shock. When I reached the Servant Quarters, I woke one up and sent him to Wilson's room to watch over him.



The next day, I went into Wilson's room to tell him that the butler will be by his side at all times. I also informed him that him and Grace were to marry in three days. Wilson attempted to fight, but I left the room without another word.



Three days later, I was waiting outside. The wedding was set. Amelia didn't know why the wedding was so soon, but was proud just the same. She was admiring Grace, telling her how happy she was to have her in the family. When the weddings was about to set, I sent a servant to retrieve Wilson. She came back with the terrible news that Wilson was no where’s to be found.



His butler dozed off one afternoon when Wilson was reading. Apparently, it was the perfect opportunity for Wilson to escape. His window was wide open and a letter dated two weeks back was sitting on the bed. The note said he was leaving with John and that I could never stop them from being together.



I feel I should have let them go. They would have money and the bravery to do as they please. The next day, I had people looking for Wilson and John. Amelia and I even took it upon ourselves to search for him.



It was five weeks later when we found them. We had traveled three towns away and I no longer had anger towards Wilson. There was a part of me that still loathed the idea of him with John, but I wanted my son back. I was worried for him and feared for his safety. Amelia had lost much sleep from worrying for him. She kept asking why he would run away and why he wouldn’t write to them. I never showed her the note they left and never explained the feud Wilson and I had.



We didn’t have to search long in the city. We were in the busiest part of the city. People were moving from one side to the other and crowding the area, but we didn’t let that stop us. Amelia and I continued to walk through, asking if they saw our son and putting up papers with his sketch on poles and walls. Not much later, we spotted the ropes where hangings were took place.



That’s where we found Wilson. John was hanging from the ropes and Wilson stood in front of it. I don’t recall ever seeing Wilson with a look of defeat. Tears ran down his face, his eyes and nose were red and his lips in a permanent frown. Amelia hugged him when we made our way to him. I like to believe she figured it out when she saw John.



Wilson jumped a little when he was hugged and took a quick look at us. I nodded at him and he went back to looking at John. I wanted to yell at him, to tell not to run away again. Instead, I put my hand on his shoulder and silently comforted him.



It felt like hours when Amelia suggested we head home. Wilson barely gave a nod. Amelia grabbed his hand and struggled to pull him away from the scene. When Amelia was taking John away, I found who was in charge and asked if I could take John’s body. The man refused, but when I explained who John’s family was, they allowed me. Another carriage came around to carry John out.



Wilson didn’t talk on the ride home. He sat with his head against the side wall and Amelia holding him close.



Three days later, John was given a funeral. His parents came, and of course, they didn’t know about John or Wilson. All they were given was a note that John was running away. Wilson stared as John was being put into the ground.



Seeing Wilson look so overwhelmed changed my opinion on everything I used to stand for. I desperately wanted to find him when he ran off to punish him, but by the end, I was fearful of what had happened to him. When I found him, I realized how saddened he was over John’s death. I still can’t help but think that if I didn’t hurt them, they would still be alive.



After John’s funeral, Wilson came to me in my study. He sat down and for the first time since he came home, he talked. He told me that when they arrived in the city, they rented a hotel room. A worker walked on them when they kissing and reported them to the police. They would have both been arrested if it wasn’t for John. He convinced the forces that he was trying to take advantage of Wilson.



Later that night, I went to John’s nearly buried grave and thanked him for saving my son. I apologized for all the pain I caused the two of them. I promised him that I would care for him and love him no matter what he did. I still thank John for everything he had done.



Three days later, I entered Wilson’s room. I was hoping to wake him up early and spending the day with him. I instantly noticed something was different in the room. The room had a strange feel to it. I wasn’t a feeling I felt often, but had felt enough times to know what it was. Death had marched in the room and shaken hands with my son.



Wilson’s chest was stained with blood and a red-stained knife sat by his side. On the nightstand, he wrote a short note that simply said,

‘I’m sorry, but I can’t do it without him.’



I blamed myself. I still accuse myself of Wilson’s suicide. I am the reason for John’s death as well. Without touching them, I managed to kill two innocent souls. Whenever I read the notes Wilson left behind, or think of what I saw when I entered the room, I feel a need for anther drink.



For the first time in many years, maybe a lifetime, I fell to my knees and cried until my heart and lungs could no longer bare it. Amelia found me curled in a ball in front of the bed.



You will never understand what if feels like to know you are the reason of your son’s death. The son you raised and loved took his own life because you couldn’t love him the way he was. If I didn’t try to take control of his life, he would still be here. But I hurt him and ruined him. I hit him, yelled profound words at him, and felt nothing but anger for him. I never deserved him as a son. He deserved a father who would love him endlessly.



It took an abundance amount of lies, but I managed to convince John’s parents to allow Wilson to be buried next to him. I told them since Wilson and him were such good friends, they deserved to be next to each other so they wouldn't be alone in death. It’s hard to believe they allowed it. Perhaps they realized our sons’ relationship as well.



Amelia, when you asked why I decided on our son’s grave site, I hope this is enough of an answer for you.



It wasn’t long after the burial that I started drinking. The first week, there were bottles around the bed. Amelia tripped over them whenever she tried to get out or in. She couldn’t walk anywhere without touching one. I was a miracle I didn’t die of alcohol consumption the first night.



My drinking took a toll on me. I woke up in the mornings vomiting, still drunk from the night, with headaches, or too weak to move. After a week, I started to drink more than just during the night. For breakfast, I would have a bottle of whiskey that would be gone by the start of the work day. I would get drunk enough to stay home from the factories. Before long, I stopped going to work and spent my days and nights drinking.



My lovely Amelia tried to help me, but I never gave her the chance. Whenever my alcohol would go missing, I would blame her and yell at her for ruining my day. I fear I hurt her like I had hurt Wilson. I’m happy I will die before she could think about following his path.



It has been eight months since my son left the world from my harsh hands. I have come to accept that I was never a good father to him. Since the day he was born, I was controlling of him. I always told him what to do, who to meet, and what to study. I am happy he met John. I am happy John and he fell in love. For the last two years of Wilson’s life, he didn’t have to do what I told him. He was a stronger man who loved who he chose and did what he wanted. I thank John for making him braver and happier than he had been before. For that, I will forever be grateful.



I can feel my hands growing weaker with every word I right. My eyes are growing heavy and my breathing is slowing. Either I will pass our or die tonight. I hope for the latter.



Amelia, care for the family and business. Now that you know of his relations with John, don’t stop your love for Wilson. I did just so and see where I am now. Be strong my love and don’t fall for my mistakes.



Richard Franklin