The Resurrectionist The Lost Work of Dr. - By E. B. Hudspeth Page 0,7

through evolution and certain paths of natural selection, humans had lost some of their natural and necessary traits. The lack of these critical elements, he believed, resulted in mutations and deformities.

Furthermore, Black speculated that perhaps the human being is not the best result of evolution; perhaps our ancestors shared traits with some of the ancient animals or, more accurately, ancient mythological animals. Black claimed that scientific evidence proving the existence of ancient mythological animals had been concealed by unnamed parties; taxonomy records were destroyed, constellation records were changed, fairy tales were altered and rewritten, all in an attempt to ignore our true history. Though Black never blamed anyone specifically for this grand conspiracy, it seems he had a certain individual (or individuals) in mind.

All of Ward C’s success and recognition appeared inconsequential to Dr. Black; he seemed to believe that the culmination of his work was incomplete. In this journal entry he had already resigned himself to pursue his less-popular theories, even though he had no idea how to do so. It would take an unexpected encounter at a carnival sideshow before he would fully mature into the study of teratology.

July 1877

And now, in the dawn of great discoveries, the dreary and rotten can be laid to the wayside. I must plow forward and continue my work, research, and growth if I am to contribute anything more than a few meager surgeries.

There is so much more to be done. We at the Ward are only butchers and tailors—we are not yet healers. I wish to find the means to isolate the problem in order to eliminate subtractive surgery entirely. One who bears the weight of medical insight upon his conscience knows too well that life is not a consequence of nature but instead its most precious and coveted secret. Nature governs its creations equally; a man can perish as easily as a plant can be destroyed beneath one’s heel.

1878

THE FAWN-CHILD

Alphonse is growing so wonderfully, like a plant in

the spring. What a miracle, what a machine; I am

increasingly grateful for his healthy deliverance into

the world.

—Dr. Spencer Black

Dr. Spencer Black’s career and aspirations changed after he paid a visit to a local carnival (the exact name of which remains unknown). Featured among the giants, acrobats, and other “marvels of nature” roaming the sideshows was an anatomy museum—an exhibit of strange medical artifacts and bizarre biological specimens.

The anatomy museums, along with cabinets of curiosities, had been popular scientific novelty collections for hundreds of years; many of these grand accumulations are still available for public view. It was this show that eclipsed Black’s previous work and inspired him to study what would become one of the most bizarre and unique pursuits of any scientist, least of all one with his talents.

These sideshows, of which I have seen many, are typically decrepit affairs leaving one with a great thirst for civility, men, and manners. The performers are often subjects of ridicule and humiliation, and they usually become patients of mine in the Ward—seeking a better life or, at the least, humanity.

The show was primarily a showcase of well-known abnormalities with a few less-common defects of the human form. The collection included a skeleton of conjoined twins, fused at the skull; the monster-baby (a pig fetus in a jar); and the South Pacific mermaid (a monkey and trout sewn together). All the displays were easily identified by anyone familiar with science and medicine. The exception was the fawn-child, a deceased young boy displaying an orthopedic condition that had caused his knees to bend the wrong way. The bones were misshapen, and excessive hair was present over the entire surface of the skin; there were bone or calcium growths at the top of his skull, which gave the appearance of juvenile horns. The dead child was preserved in a large alcohol-filled glass jar.

Black was convinced that the specimen held a secret to his research. He believed that the mutations were manifestations of the ancient past he had written about—evidence of a genetic code that was not completely eradicated. Some have argued that Black found answers in places where there was no need for questions. Whatever the case, the encounter with the fawn-child fueled his obsession for finding a cure for the deformation that was paramount in his work. He would never again practice conventional medicine.

The promoter of the sideshow sold the specimen to Black for two hundred dollars, a small fortune. Black took the fawn-child home and conducted a secret but thorough dissection in the attic. Not