Nature or Nurture

The next morning, Vincent awakens with a painful erection. Strangely, he's never had one before, and he wakes Adison to show it to her.

'And you're not aroused?' she asks.

'Not particularly, no,' he replies.

'Still, we can't leave it that way,' she says. 'What would you say to doing something about it in the attic where we started this?'

Actually, he's happy to have left the place of his birth behind him, but he needs to face that as well, someday. Why not let it be today, then move on, tell her about his ambitions?

Back in the attic, his erection is gone. Vincent feels the need to explain.

'Talking about the night of my birth here has brought it all back to me, vividly. It still hurts to think of it.'

She doesn't say anything but holds out her hand to him. Together they walk towards the table, once covered in blood. And the electrical apparatus, used by the doctor to attract and direct the lightning strike. It is in good condition still, but fortunately unused.

'What do you remember exactly?'Adison dares to ask. She's here with him, together they can face anything.

'First thing I remember is the pain, such pain! It made me scream. There was only confusion, I knew nothing. I saw things around me through a haze but I didn't know what anything was. The pain was not letting up, if anything it got worse. I couldn't stop screaming.

The air smelled bad and tasted worse. Then through the haze I saw a face. I knew that comfort would be with that face, so I tried to walk to it. But I couldn't even walk, and fell several times. Desperation kept me going, I couldn't stop screaming.

The face didn't help me, it looked at me the wrong way. I knew somehow it shouldn't look that way, and indeed it ran away. With my last strength I got hold of the body the face belonged to, begging it to help me, to stop the pain, to stop the bleeding. But it pushed me away. It didn't want me. It hid behind the door, watching me scream out in rejection as well as terror and pain.

Then I felt loneliness, such utter loneliness that it drowned out even the pain. The loneliness seemed to go on forever. I tasted blood and despair. I started to hate the face behind the door, for somehow I knew it belonged to my father, that he had done this to me.

A soft touch on my shoulder, and I turned on it in the hate I felt at that moment, that must have been a sight: an animated corpse shambling, bleeding from hideous wounds, screaming in fear and loneliness. And in its unnatural eyes, the hate rising. But this face just held out its arms to me, accepting me, loving me even in the state I was in. My strength gave out and I collapsed in your arms, letting the pain and the exhaustion take me. When the loneliness left, the pain came back, but I didn't care.You loved me as a newborn should be loved, unconditionally.'

Adison is greatly moved by his memories, so clear and still so intense. How can he stand the sight of the doctor, even like him? He must be very good at forgiving. But she never saw hatred in his eyes that night, just an overwhelming loneliness. Can it be that he remembers this wrong, or did she just not see it?

Having relived his first memories, Vincent is dead tired and a little depressed. He is glad to let Adison lead him to their pallet, still there. She nestles in his arms, glad to just be close to him. After awhile, she touches the scar on his temple, tracing it down his neck, to his chest. He faces her and smiles. The erection is back.

Afterwards, he tells her about his revelation in the theatre. She knows he does not share her interest in medicine but she has never realized that there might be another thing that he could love as much. Silly of her. She's very happy for him, and knowing his talent for reading and interpreting text, combined with his striking figure and expressive ways, she can easily picture him on the stage. But she also feels anxiety.

If he were to become an actor, she can no longer be with him all the time, he will have to face a very competitive world all on his own. Can he handle it? Can he control himself under the abuse he will undoubtedly get from competing actors? They decide to ask the doctor for advice, he knows the city and its ways, he'll know where a person can go to become an actor.

And indeed he does. Though he at first has the same doubts about letting Vincent strike out on his own, he also recognizes his talent and certainly believes he can do it. Though Vincent prefers the higher stature of Shakespeare and the other great poets, he agrees that starting small and close to home may be a smart move.

So the doctor makes an appointment with the friendly director of the smaller theatre that started this whole thing. Vincent recites poems, plays a scene the director has given him to memorise and dramatise. The audition is a succes, and as there is a minor role open in the newest play, he can start straight away.

'Rehearsal starts Monday morning at ten, be on time, know your lines, you're a villain so wear black until you've a costume, and be scary. Oh, and seeing as you've ambitions, try to get some fencing lessons. Gives a certain stance to a guy, looks good on an audition. If you're as good on stage as in my office, you might qualify for a lead role before long.

And watch your back, we've a greedy bunch out here with more ambition than talent mostly. They may try to test your mettle, be ready for it. Be sure to let me know if anyone gives you trouble.'

Memorising lines is no big deal for Vincent, and the character he plays is no holds barred evil, no shades of grey, just pure black. An easy task to play for someone with his looks. Monday seems ages away.

Especially with Adison starting out to assist the doctor, and being away from home for half the day. The other half they spend together, the doctor having decided he can give Vincent his first fencing lessons himself. As a noble born, he has spent at least part of his youth learning to ride, hunt, fence and wrestle, and he is no mean teacher, though he lacks the bloodlust to be competitive.

They find a suitable space in the basement, and there the doctor teaches the rudiments of fencing to Vincent and to Adison as well. For as he says, why should a girl have to rely on men for her defence? Her father being of the same opinion, Adison has learned to ride well and to shoot with both a rifle and a hand held gun. But fencing never had his interest, so this is all new to her.

Though she handles herself well in these lessons, Vincent is a natural and soon outclasses her in more than a man's greater strength. His reflexes are lightning, he can judge an adversary in a moment, he relishes remembering the exercises exactly how they should be performed.

And then there is his frightening strength. There is no way that that is natural, even for a man of his size and build.

After one week of fanatic practice, sparring with Adison is no longer useful to him, except for exercising self-control. After two weeks, the doctor has to admit it is too dangerous for him to let Vincent go all-out in practice. He cannot trust his own ability to parry those powerful lunges, and getting himself injured or killed is of no use to anyone. So the doctor concentrates his efforts on Adison, and he hires a skilled swordsmaster to further teach Vincent.

Adison now accompanies the doctor to his work. She helps him dissect his objects carefully, then to describe and draw everything and catalogue the results. With her documenting skills honed by years of practice, guided by the most enlightened minds of her father's time, she helps him progress much faster in his research. They also decide to take on some living clients in their practice, the combination of her nursing skills, her way with people and her Chinese medical background, and his great knowledge of the human body soon making them sought after by the ailing rich.