“Did Wilbur explain how Lavinia had a child by this non-material being?” Jeffrey asked.
Galvin chuckled. “I’d of thought you boys would be smart enough to figure that one out for yourselves! Seems self-evident to me that Wizard Whateley allowed himself to be possessed for an incestuous encounter with his daughter. You’ve read Armitage’s account, don’t you recall that Curtis Whateley described the giant face on top of the monster as bearing an unmistakable likeness to Wizard Whateley?
“Wilbur told me about it after Armitage came to the farm to check on him.”
The mention of the famous doctor at that point in the story caught Galvin’s listeners by surprise. “Armitage wrote that he met Wilbur at the Miskatonic library in 1926!” James objected.
Galvin smiled. “Is that so? Well, to begin with, there are a lot of things Armitage felt it prudent not to include in his ‘authoritative’ account. But if you read it carefully, you’ll note he mentioned being sent to the Whateley farm in 1925 as a ‘scholarly correspondent’ for the university.”
“But that makes no sense,” Jeffrey piped in. “Why would the university send a head librarian somewhere as a correspondent? Let alone to the Whateley farm? The public lost all interest in the Whateleys long before 1925!”
“Curious, ain’t it?” Galvin sniggered. “The truth is, Armitage had been visiting the farm for years; he and Wizard Whateley were old friends! After Old Whateley passed away, Armitage felt obliged to drop in, just to make sure Wilbur was following the instructions his grandfather had given him. Armitage only mentioned the visit in writing because he was seen there by someone he hadn’t expected to be there—me. I was introduced, then Old Whateley whisked Armitage off to talk in private.”
Jeffrey couldn’t believe his ears. “Mr. Galvin, are you saying Dr. Armitage knew about the twins and Old Whateley’s plans for destroying mankind long before he encountered Wilbur at the library? That’s diametrically opposed to everything the man has stood for!”
Galvin laughed out loud before adding, “You’re slow, but I think you’re finally starting to catch on!
“Armitage had what you could call a hidden agenda and the old bastard wasn’t exactly pleased to hear Wilbur didn’t want anything to do with him and Old Whateley’s plan. By the time Armitage left the farm that day, he was madder than a hornet! He threatened Wilbur up and down, but Wilbur wouldn’t budge. Wilbur wanted to find the spell that would reverse the Other’s growth or even kill it if need be, but he didn’t dare tell that to Armitage. But Armitage counted on Wilbur changing his mind—least he counted on it ’til Wilbur came to his library and asked to see the complete edition of the Necronomicon of the mad Arab. After reading the section Old Whateley had pointed out to him, Wilbur started looking for spells he could use to control or destroy the Other, unaware that Armitage was spying on him over his shoulder. When Armitage figured out what Wilbur was up to, he denied Wilbur further access to the book and ordered him out of the library.
“The bastard later admitted he’d written to the head librarians of every library that had a copy of the Necronomicon, advising them not to allow Wilbur or anyone named Galvin access.”
James was outraged, unable to accept this new view of Armitage. “Dr. Armitage was a respected scholar!” he protested. “He held a doctorate from Princeton and a Doctor of Letters degree from Cambridge!”
Chuckling to himself, Galvin challenged, “Have you ever wondered why such a brilliant scholar ended up as a simple librarian? Truth is, the university’s Board of Governors got wind of his delvings into certain unacceptable aspects of the occult, and they decided it would be best to put him where they could keep an eye on him.”
Galvin openly relished the disillusioned shock now apparent on both writers’ faces. After harboring Armitage’s secret for so many years, it gave him immense pleasure to slaughter that sacred cow. He allowed the pair a few minutes for recovery before resuming his revelations.
“In the meantime, Wilbur managed to keep the Other fed with the cattle he got from Earl Sawyer. The house started smelling something fierce though, ’cos he couldn’t always get all the chewed up carcasses out. The darn thing was getting unpredictable and didn’t always recognize him anymore. Wilbur said its mind never developed beyond that of a human infant’s despite its size, and it wouldn’t be long before its bulk would require the whole of the house. Wilbur was still growing too, though he kept hoping to find some way to stop. By early ’26, he measured over seven feet tall.”
A sadness seeped into Galvin’s voice as he began to impart the next chapter of his incredible tale. “Just before Halloween, or Hallowmass as they called it, that same year, we lost Lavinia. Wilbur and I were wrestling with a particularly knotty passage from Vogel’s Von denen Verdammten one afternoon when Lavinia burst into the room in a full-blown panic. She was drenched in sweat and raving like a madwoman. Wilbur held her and stroked her hair for a while, trying to calm her, but she pushed him away, screaming: ‘I cain’t deny him nay longer! He needs ’es ma, an’ not yew ner n’b’dy else’ll keep me from a-goan’ to him nay more!’
“There’d been a god-awful sloshing noise coming from the second floor all morning, but I never figured if it was a reaction to Lavinia’s hysterics or vice-versa. Sounded like a herd of elephants was stomping around up there. I’d always tried to ignore the noise from up there before, but God himself must o’ heard the uproar that day.
“Wilbur asked me to step outside while he reasoned with Lavinia’s madness. She was twitching and a-fighting him, but Wilbur held her fast. Nobody could match Wilbur’s strength by then, let alone a frail little thing like Lavinia. He finally got her to lie down in her room, and I heard him chanting or singing to her for more than an hour before she settled enough for him to leave her. He went back to his studies, thinking she was asleep, but as it turned out, she was just pretending.”
James interrupted to ask, “Do you think Wilbur loved his mother?”
The question seemed to catch Galvin off guard, causing him to hesitate before answering. “I guess I never heard him say it right out, though he once recalled the fond memories he had of wandering through the hills with her when he was real young. Sometimes he spoke harshly to her, and we both ignored her ramblings, but when she was hurting, he was always real tender with her. It was kinda hard not to feel protective of her, especially when she’d get all worked up and confused.”
Galvin drained the last of the bottle into his own glass. Jeffrey rushed off for another even before Galvin could set the empty bottle down. He rejoined them moments later, apparently anxious for Galvin to begin the next phase of his narration.
“Just before sunset, I heard a door slam and someone ran past my door toward the hillside. I poked my head out the door and caught sight of Lavinia’s tiny, crinkly-haired form careening at top speed up the wood incline toward the boarded-up window on the east gable. The moment she reached the top, she let fly with the ax she’d brought with her, trying to hack the lock off and get inside. I was at a loss for action ’til Wilbur ran out of the house and saw what she was up to. I offered to help, but he was sure she’d gone mad and that there was no way to stop her. He told me to stay in the shed, saying he’d call me if there was anything I could do.”
Galvin sighed. “A while later, I heard Lavinia screaming like all possessed. I headed for the door, but Wilbur had locked me in. I had heard him chanting or singing in his room just before the screaming started, so I knew it wasn’t him that was hurting Lavinia.”