The 13th Wife

Perhaps you’ve heard the tale of Bluebeard. Scary little gothic tale – don’t go past the locked door. Well, I am the great-great-great-great-great-great granddaughter of a real Bluebeard and tonight I’m going to tell you what really happened, according to the family Bible records. Some names have been altered because I don't want to be sued by an offended cousin who may recognize the tale.

Meheritable was a poor orphaned Jewish girl, charmed by the gentle kindness of a local hero named Ben Whitnaught. He was one of the few people in town that would speak to her in her own language. As she went from house to wealthy house as a scullery maid, she began to look forward to seeing the kind, distinguished man with the deep blue eyes. She guessed He was older than her own father, but so kind! She found out where He lived and tried to take as many jobs in the houses around His own. Finally, He asked her to come work at His house. And what work! The Whitnaught house was huge – it had twenty bedrooms. Only seven were in use, the rest of the bedroom doors were locked. Meheritable was strictly informed that she was not to enter the locked bedrooms or the libraries without His permission. As it turned out, He had six children, but no wife. He explained He was a widower, but He did not like to talk about it. Meheritable fell in love with Him. He was so gentle with His children, all beautiful yet with such sad expressions. He was treated so reverently by all the townfolk – they would respectfully stand aside when He walked down the street. Not even the dogs dared to bark at this wonderful man. Then one day He took her aside and asked for her hand in marriage. Meheritable was elated! That very day, he married her by the well in the front yard, under an old oak tree. Only the preacher came, and the children. There wasn’t a dry eye in the yard during the wedding of this wonderful man and Meheritable. Her wedding gift was a key to the library. She didn’t think much of the gift, because she couldn’t read. However, she became mother to the children and they taught her how to read in the backyard. As Meheritable learned her ABCs, she began to practice on the twelve pretty statues in the backyard. “Here lies Solitude Whitnaught, faithful wife, died of bad fish.” “Here lies Blessing Whitnaught, faithful wife and mother, drowned in well.” “Here lies Prudence, faithful wife, died of a chicken bone.” “Here lies Fearful Whitnaught, faithful wife and mother, fell from oak tree.” Meheritable was shocked. Obviously the Whitnaught women had a dreadful curse, to have each died in such odd ways. At dinner that night, she asked Him which was the grave of His own dearly departed wife. He cleared his throat, and the children began to cry. When He didn’t speak, Meheritable repeated her question. He reminded her that He was a widower, but He did not like to talk about it. That night before bed, Meheritable went past each locked door, and saw that each was named for a woman. The last four doors were for Solitude, Blessing, Fearful, and Meheritable! The next day, He asked for Meheritable to walk with Him by the well and oak tree, where they had recited their vows. Thinking quickly, Meheritable declined. She wanted to spend her day in the kitchen preparing a special dish just for Him. He was delighted. All day, Meheritable slaved in a hot kitchen preparing a special meal of fish boiled in well water with chicken bones over an oak kindling fire. That night, she served Him the fish. He was rather disinterested in the mushy, bland looking dish, but when she promised to walk with Him after dinner, He ate with great gusto. Strangely, He was too tired to walk that night. The next morning, the local doctor came to visit the Whitnaughts. Ben was dead. The doctor was puzzled, finding no reason for the man’s death. When he asked how He died, Meheritable answered that she was a widow now, but she did not like to talk about it. She never spoke of it, but lovingly described each of the twelve statues in the back of the Whitnaught family Bible.

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This is a true story, truly from my own family. I have never been happy with any of my recreations of the tale. I am greatly looking foward to hearing critiques because this tale deserves to be told beautifully! I also tried to change my usual voice here. Can't decide if I like it or not. Cheers!