The Only Living Man With a Hole in His Head

Chapter Two

September 13, 1848

Cavendish, Vermont

"Phineas, do tell. Please."

Nag. Nag. Nag. Phineas Gage had grown up in a household of women, namely his mother and younger sister. Even though he had lost his father when he was a mere lad of twelve, and had no male role model to draw from, he still considered his skills ample when it came to dealing with the fairer sex. The proof? There he was, at age twenty-five, with his long-term girlfriend, and he still enjoyed his freedom without having tied himself down with matrimony, as was the case with a majority of the people his age. It's not that he had a "roving eye". Rather, he was climbing the ladder of success in his chosen field and wasn't feeling the itch to rush into the marriage and children department. On that brisk autumn Vermont morning as the leaves were about to begin their annual ritual of color change that would turn the whole of New England into an orgy of vibrant hues, Phineas was once again listening to Elisa's barrage of questions about his intentions for their future together. "I have informed you of my knowledge on the matter," Phineas proclaimed whilst standing in the cozy den of the cabin he called home as he prepared for the long day of labor ahead.

"Surely, as a close friend of Harrison's," Elisa pointed out, her hazel eyes sparkling, "you must be privy to knowledge as none other would." She busied herself by brewing her favorite peppermint tea since she was a wee girl.

"When we labor, we must keep our focus on what is at hand. It is not a social call."

"But still! Marriage is but once in a lifetime," Elisa said with such conviction that her long silky mane of blond flustered.

Phineas packed his meal basket, which included a lunch of stewed rabbit, roast mutton, chestnut soup and plum pudding. There would be no cafes, general stores or saloons in the vicinity of the day's work site. Phineas's mother was known to make the best plum pudding in all of Windsor County. Some folks speculated it was the extra pinch of nutmeg she added. If Hannah herself were telling her secret, which she wasn't—not even to kin—that it was the shot of brandy she added to each batch. "How go the wise words, which you yourself, Elisa, are so fond of stating—Patience is bitter, but the fruit is sweet."

Elisa, disregarding the words spoken by her beau, was in a dreamy state, her lengthy hair flowing in the breeze of an open window, as she declared, "The Cavendish Ball! So romantic a setting for a man to ask for a woman's hand. Under the autumn sky, stars shining bright, the whole of Cavendish in attendance to witness such a joyous event. Oh, how I envy Rose." She floated close to Phineas, put her mouth beside his ear, "Your beloved is getting on in her seasons."

"Hardly. Twenty-one is but a child."

"When mother was thus, she already bore three children."

"That was a different era," Phineas countered. "This is 1848. We reside in a more enlightened time. There's even talk at work of one day soon a railroad connecting the whole of the United States territory. Can you imagine, being able to travel from the Atlantic clear out to the Pacific in only one train compartment? Now, that's progress," Phineas cracked a smile at that thought. He was a laborer who took pride in what he did, whole-heartedly believing that he was helping make the nation a better place for its citizens.

Elisa took a sip of tea. "I attempt to see another vision. One that includes marriage and joyful children." She watched with hopeful eyes as Phineas packed up an extra set of work clothes. A railroad foreman never did know when those may come in handy.

Phineas placed his arm gently around Elisa's shoulder. "Elisa, you are my angel," he reassuringly began, "my precious flower. I can not and will not imagine my days without your beauty, intelligence and grace." It may have sounded as if Phineas was laying it on thick as a way of staying out of the doghouse, but he meant every word that escaped his mouth. He recalled back to when he was nine and laid eyes on Elisa for the first time on a trip into town. Maybe it was her sincere, bright smile, or her golden locks, or the hazel eyes that glowed as if two compact bonfires burned inside, so unlike the other girls in town, or maybe the feeling that they had known each other for eons, maybe even in a past life, if one believed in that sort of thing, but whatever it was, Phineas felt drawn to her and considered himself lucky to have her in his life. He sincerely continued, "Please bear my patience. I have made foreman and it is with that responsibility that I endure. When the new addition of the Rutland and Burlington is complete, I shall grace your wishes. And mine too. I must take leave." With that, he kissed her and left.