The Curse of Francescas Sword

8/14/2019 The Curse of Francescas Sword

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suggested I had best keep my mouth shut, as it didnt

concern me.

A stable man I was, a drudge. I curried the horses for Harry

Benson, and every Sunday morning polished the brass onhis sulky when he would lead off the harness racing at his

personal one-mile oval track, competing with several invited

participants.

Francesca, Bensons consort was uninterested in harness

racing, but skillful at deception. Harrys endless braggartism

clouded the feigned interest Francesca had ready for all

occasions; not to hang intently on every word that dour

braggart uttered was to invite a querulous grouch tobellyache the rest of the week.

Francesca quickly learned all the fine points about harness

racing till she could recount every race hed won. Francesca

praised Harrys horsemanship so he would bask in the self-

deluding belief that he won by skill, not because he invited

horsemen that hardly qualified to compete as harness

racers.

Within a few years, Harry tired of harness racing. Francesca

quickly clued in on that and suggested hed make a fine

swordsman. Harry, blinded by his own inflated ego

quickly acquired the finest pair of foils, sabers and

epees.

Unbeknown to Harry, Francesca was an accomplished

swordswoman and volunteered to fence with him till he

could find a partner. She had her own rapier; a diamondstudded family heirloom; very valuable but it allegedly

carried a curse that had been placed on it to remain for

seven generations. Had he not been blinded by the

illusory praise Francesca heaped on him about having a


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naturally inherent swordsmanship he might have

escaped the imminent fate in store for him.

Had I not felt well disposed toward Francesca, we having

shared many intimate moments in the hayloft, I wouldhave got suspicious when she asked me to bring her a

bouquet of blue flowers for a centerpiece. She stressed

they must match the purple gown Harry had bought for

her, suggesting the Monkshood flourishing by the horse

barn would be the best choice.

I thought no more of this. Dog bodies arent invited to

banquets, so I retired to my bunk in the loft over the

horse barn. I hadnt slept but a moment when someonerudely ordered me to get a carriage ready to take Harry

to the doctor. I managed to ask one question, where is

Francesca. A curt reply informed me she had rushed to

the church to pray for Harry.

Harry made it to the doctor who carefully cleaned the

small wound in his side, hardly more than a generous

scratch from Francescas rapier when she stumbled

while demonstrating Harrys swordsmanship.

The doctor cleaned and bandaged the wound; then

Harry dropped dead!

Francesca was heartbroken; asked me to help the maid

clean up after the banquet. I disposed of the

Monkshood, noting that there were now five where I had

brought a half dozen. Within a week, Francesca having

quickly got over her grief suggested we might have aprivate moment in my room over the horse barn.

There was an inquest; the rapier was requested.

Francesca remembered holding it in her hand when she

ran to the church to pray for Harry, but she was so

distraught she couldnt remember what she did with it. I


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suspected she tipped the headstone back to hide the

rapier in a small chamber below it, which I had

discovered while cleaning up the church yard.

A relentless search turned up nothing. Soon the whole messwas swept under the table; Harry Benson became a statistic

in the church records; death from unknown causes. Having

died in testate Francesca was now the owner of an enviable

country estate.

Francesca had led Harry to believe she was barren, but

within a few months of well-chosen visits to my quarters

she suddenly became pregnant.

In due time a baby girl was born, named Danella. Soon a

party was held to celebrate and while I thought it

strange, I, a dog body, was invited. I had several drinks

and soon felt myself becoming unconscious. I saw a

white light envelope me and found myself going down a

long tunnel. I was dead.

They listened to the tape twice; then he put it away.

What do you make of it? Tommy asked his sister.

I got mixed emotions about that; especially the rapier

that carried the curse.

Then you believe it could be true. He asked,

concerned

You would be a better judge of that than I. But that gal

Francesca must have been something else. Obviously

she put poison on that sword; she also poisoned you

little brother.


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Yeah, when she didnt need me any more. And it seems

I have a daughter or a grandchild running around

someplace.

And knowing you, no stone will be unturned till you findthem.

If I have descendants I would like to find them; tell

them what happened. My only hope is to run an ad in

the papers; list all the names and wait for someone to

step forward.

Subsequently the names Harry Benson, Francesca,

parson Anderson and Danella, began to run in the

papers while Tommy sat back to wait. Several weeks

went by with no response. Tommy was about to cancel

the ad when a young woman showed up on his

doorstep. Sorry to bother you; Im looking for Tom

Redden. She asked.

Im Tom Redden.

The ad you ran in the paper; I must talk to you about

it. Im Francesca Benson Shorting.

Tommy stood there in shock. You sure look like

Francesca; she probably was your great grandmother.

WHAT! What did you say?

Forgive me. I got carried away

You said I looked like Francesca. Would you care toexplain what you meant?

That was what I meant. Then she had a daughter,

Danella.


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Danella is my grandmother. I dont get it, are you a

psychic or something?

No. Danella was my daughter.

Your daughter! I dont know what youre trying to pull;

Ive taken up enough of your time, Mr. Redden. Then

she got back in her car and left.

The next morning she was back; this time with her

grandmother. Tommy knew this was not going to be

easy but he must try to convince Danella. The air was

tense.

I thought you gave up on me. He said to Francesca.

You got that right, but grandma insisted on meeting

you.

When Francesca said you were my father I had to see

for myself. Danella said.

I must apologize. I should have explained that

relationship happened in my last incarnation. I was adogs body for Harry Benson; tended the stables and

polished the brass on his sulky before every race.

I feel a bit faint. Danella said

Im so sorry. Please come in and sit down. Tommy said

seating them comfortably in the living room. He got a

glass of water for Danella.

Now where were we? he said.

You were polishing the brass on Harrys sulky. Danella

said.

Do you still remember them; maybe you were too

young? Tommy asked


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No there was still one in the barn when I was about

five.

The one with the right wheel missing a spoke?

Yes. You have a good memory, Tommy.

No Danella. I dont have any conscious memories of

this but there seemed to be memories of a past lifetime

that I couldnt explain, so I had a hypnotic regression.

Tommy explained. He thought about playing the tape

but decided to leave that till he knew them better.

Can you remember what happened to that old sulky?

He asked.

Oh yes, I remember only too well. When Mom would go

to the barn she would lift me up; set me in it so I could

pretend I was driving it.

What finally happened to it?

It went when mom sold off what was left after the fire.

What fire! Surely you cant mean the house.

Yes it burned when I was about ten. The insurance

company suspected mom torched it. She maintained the

cat upset the kerosene lamp and that started the fire.

Did they pay?

Finally, but it was almost a year before they were

convinced.

How come it took so long?

Do you remember if we had a cat? Danella asked


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I remember one around the barn, but that cat was

never allowed in the house; but then I didnt spend

much time in the house; at least not while Harry was

alive.

The neighbors didnt remember ever seeing a cat; the

insurance investigators questioned everyone that knew

mom because they were certain she torched it.

And they questioned you, Ill bet.

Of course. I got to be a very good liar; the cat

practically lived in the house; wouldnt even go outside

to look for a mouse. Danella said.

This all sounds convincing but how do we know you

didnt dig up this information from some old newspapers

and are trying to work some kind of a scam? Francesca

asked.

Tommy grinned. You dont; so give it your best shot.

Do you remember when this took place?

Not exactly. My best guess it preceded your

grandmothers birthday by a year, and before then Id

been working as a dogs body at the church.

Francesca thought about that for a moment. Of course

it would; I dont know why I bothered to ask.

No harm in asking.

I was born in 1890, so Tommy worked for Harry manyyears before that. Danella explained to her

granddaughter.

I also helped Parson Anderson look after the cemetery.

Tommy said.


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Mom and Anderson got to be quite close after the

house burned down. We had no place to stay, so the

Parson took us in.

Might that have been the plan before the house burneddown? Tommy asked

Oh yes. A well thought out part of the plan; to make all

things appear authentic, nothing was removed from the

house before the fire except a few personal papers that

mom kept hidden away.

That would be a must; did you ever get to look at

these?

I still have them, Tommy. Ill get Francesca to bring me

back very soon and Ill show you the papers. You might

be able to help me clear up something; there was a

headstone in the cemetery with strange carvings. Do

you know anything about that?

Yes. Parson Anderson said it was evil. When I

suggested I could help him get rid of it he said that

would bring dire consequences.

Danella looked at Francesca then turned to Tommy. I

told my granddaughter about that headstone; she didnt

believe me.

Of course I didnt; all that horse feathers about curses

is just a lot of nonsense. Francesca insisted.

There was a full moonlit night; the headstone wasstolen. Within a week it fell on the man that stole it,

killing him when he had foolishly set it on a shelf above

his bed. Danella said.

That was most likely what Anderson meant; removing

the headstone had dire consequences? Tommy said.


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said, grinning at Danella. I wonder why Francesca is so

serious about marrying this guy knowing about the

curse---unless she secretly believes it?

Shes more serious than ever which I thought strange;Im really concerned for my granddaughter.

The wedding took place two weekends from the time of

this conversation. Nineteen-year-old Francesca wore a

light blue duchesse wedding gown, two brides maids

attended.

Tommy sat in a back pew in the church waiting to meet

the groom while he was still alive, and to shake hands

with the happy couple; drink to their health at the

reception.

The newly weds went to the vestibule of the church; the

hundred guests walked by to shake their hands and wish

them well.

Tommy waited till the last. Francesca grinned at him as

he stepped into the vestibule; Tommy froze in his track

as he heard a link in the chain holding chandelier snap

open, sending the huge fixture crashing on top of the

groom. Francesca screamed in horror as the blood

poured from her husbands throat. A metal ornament

protruding from the chandelier had severed his carotid

artery. Within moments he was dead.

Francesca and Danella stood beside Tommy. The

ambulance arrived within minutes. The minister stoodby wringing his hands while watching the paramedics

saw away with a dull hacksaw that mysteriously

appeared from the church basement. The ornament was

finally cut loose from the chandelier to be removed from

is throat later. The body was reverentially placed on a


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stretcher, covered with a white sheet; the minister said

a few words and the ambulance left without a siren.

The reception was cancelled. All the food and wine was

divided among the guests, which had suddenly grown innumbers when dividing the food was mentioned. Danella

took Francesca home.

Two months later Angela asked Tommy, How was your

date with Francesca, or shouldnt I ask?

Tommy grinned, It was great. She apologized profusely

for doubting me about the curse on the sword. Shes

really a lovely person.

I never heard you so excited about some gal before;

dare I suspect you are falling in love with her?

I could do worse, but I doubt I would want to marry

her?

Why not? Shes now a wealthy woman. What man in his

right mind wouldnt want to marry her?

Its not that simple sis. When Dr. Jans taped my

regression, the tape ran out before the session was

quite finished, so he told me what didnt get on the

tape. After the last seventh curse has played out, which

it did at her wedding there is one more curse, but that

would be on Francesca herself if she got married again.

She would die soon after her wedding unless it was to a

relative.

Angela sat there stunned. Are you going to tell her?

Tommy sat there for a moment struggling t find an

answer. If I tell her she wont believe me. If it comes to

pass that we would marry, she will die. If we drift apart,


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shell marry someone else; shell die and that guy will

inherit all her money.

Which must be a fortune. Angela said. Wait a moment!

Wouldnt you qualify as a relative? Her greatgrandfather from the eighteen hundreds? Angela said,

grinning at Tommy. Either way youd have the best of

both worlds.

Tommy got up and gave Angela a hug. Thanks sis, I

knew youd come through for me; this calls for a

celebration. He said, going to the fridge for a beer and

two glasses, while Angela pretended to go back to her

studies.

THE END


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The Curse of Francescas Sword