addison darkwell knew that his fellow humans regarded him as a bore, but there was nothing he could do about it. he could not help being what he was, any more than a rabbit could help being a rabbit, or a snake help being a snake.
or, as he thought as he sat alone at the end of the bar at bob’s bowery bar late on yet another snowy night, any more than this small glass of bock can help being a small glass of bock, or the jukebox caterwauling behind him - it was playing “that’s my desire“ by frankie laine - could help being a jukebox.
such thoughts were typical of the witticisms that passed through his mind continuously, and that even he was hesitant to attempt to share.
many of his fellow denizens of bob’s bar thought he was known as “addison the wit” because of his resemblance to a character in the movie “all about eve”, and to them he was, but “addison” was in fact his given name.
addison’s upbringing had not been conducive to developing a personality that many other people would find familiar or interesting, or be immediately at ease with.
he had been brought up, mostly by servants, in a large gloomy house, in the middle of a dismal swamp, in the deepest recesses of the defeated confederacy.
addison had an identical twin brother, named steele. the two boys never saw much of human creatures other than themselves.
they developed a language of their own, in which they largely communicated.
for most of their early lives, the only other occupants of the house were two old servants - hiram, a hired man who was deaf and dumb, and cleopatra, the cook, who did not have much to say, and who, unlike persons in similar situations in books and movies, in no way regarded the boys as her “children”.
when they were five years old, a nurse who had brought them up from infancy was dismissed, and a tutor, a gloomy young man with the mournful sobriquet of jefferson davis collingwood, was hired for one year to teach them the rudiments of reading, writing, and numbers.
after that they were left to their own devices, and never went to school.
money was sent to the servants every month, by the family lawyer, mr hampton scratchwood, of the memphis firm of scratchwood, jackson, snd dubois.
the boy’s education had two distinct sources.
the swamp, in which they spent much of their daylight hours, acquiring an easy familiarity with its nonhuman inhabitants, including the most repulsive and poisonous.
and the library. at night, after having been taught to read by mr collingwood, they perused the contents of their grandfather’s library, which consisted mostly of novels, histories, and poetry of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, much of it fallen into oblivion in the outside world.
the boys developed strong opinions, often contrary to each other, on what they read, and would argue into the night as to the merits of such works as the pirate by sir walter scott, or the parisians by bulwer-lytton, or the poetry of thomas campbell or samuel rogers.
later in life, it took addison a while to realize that almost nobody in the world cared anything at all about most of these authors, or even knew they existed.
“but byron loved samuel rogers!” addison would exclaim, to blank stares.
when the boys were seventeen years old, a chauffeur driven bentley was sent into the swamp to bring them to the office of scratchwood, jackson, and dubois, which they had never before visited.
they were ushered into the private office of mr scratchwood, who as may be guessed found them a couple of very uncouth specimens indeed, and it took all of his courtliness to hide the fact while he delivered the news he had summoned them to hear.
the boys had always been assured that on reaching the age of eighteen, they would “come into their inheritance”, i e , be furnished with allowances that they could spend as they wished, and which would be enough to live on.
but now mr scratchwood had bad news. with his fingertips pressed together in the classic style, he explained that, due to “the unfortunate depression” - whatever that was, addison and steele wondered - there was no longer enough in the family funds to support them both. “one of you - barely, barely, and who knows for how long - but not both of you.”
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“but what are we to do?” the boys asked.
“i am afraid you will have to find employment,” mr scratchwood replied, but he was unable to inject the slightest trace of hope into his voice.
the boys were immediately driven back to the swamp, without even getting to spend the night in memphis.
that night, steele disappeared.
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