Mother Ballow's
101 Ways to Perk Up Everyday Meals
With Recycled Bacon Grease
(not a cookbook)

For Safiya, the little dog who taught me how to write between the lines.

One

Family

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
Anna Karenina
Leo Tolstoy

            If Glynda Ballow impressed anything upon her children it was this: never throw away perfectly good bacon grease. It has hundreds of uses. For example, take stale bread and cut away the crusts. Slice into thin strips and fry until toasty brown. This is always a treat, but was especially appreciated in war time England where any kind of meat was difficult to come by.

            Glynda's family said she looked like Ginger Rogers, it must have been her red hair. The mirror said otherwise, so after a while Glynda simply stopped looking into it. Convinced of her beauty despite solid evidence to the contrary, Glynda expected to marry well and at first thought she had. She soon discovered that her new husband Richard considered it his birthright to drink and seduce his way across England. Even in wartime. "There's nothing wrong with it," Richard told drinking companions. And anyway he always came back in the end, a mixed blessing though because Glynda would never divorce. She was firmly Church of England, but at the end closest to Roman Catholic. If it weren't so unfashionable, Glynda probably would have crossed over but only servants were RC in Liverpool.
            Richard came from a very middle class very Victorian family with some money. Not a whole lot of money, merchant money but money nonetheless. He was the youngest of five boys who, like their father and his father before him, were sent to a colorless public school in the north of England. Not Eaton but not bad. Richard hated it.
            Glynda dutifully produced children. Paul was her favorite, the most promising. Sebastian had homosexual leanings. And even though it was mostly her doing, Glynda spoke of this to Paul in disapproving terms. As a result Paul grew deeply ashamed of Sebastian but also deeply protective. This relationship, set in childhood, lasted a lifetime.
            Sebastian feared his father as much as he loved his mother. So it was all to the good that Richard wasn't home very much. Sebastian also resented Richard's heavy-handed attempts to "make a man" of him. In the long run though Richard proved right. Sebastian did become the pretentious homosexual he'd predicted. Christopher, on the other hand, stayed his mother's child forever and Gil, well Gil was quite another matter. Gil took after his father: cold as a fish; a shark with steely malevolent focus. He always got what he wanted but like his father, Gil was foolish in his choices.
            Ann --Glynda's eldest-- doted on Paul; first shielding him from his father and then, out of habit, from school bullies. This was understandable because Paul was appealing, well-behaved and bright. Even people outside the Ballow family thought so. But his Richard couldn't afford the public school fees, making a good British university impossible -a failing Paul never forgot or forgave. The other boys at the free town school, the family's only option, quickly labeled Paul a "mama's boy," and kept their distance. Glynda convinced Paul it was because he was much too good for them. "Bad luck," she stressed, "…bad luck to be thrown in with "that" class of children." "Time will tell," she said.
            Sebastian fared better socially with many "romantic friendships." Paul carefully hid these furtive relationships from his mother, calling on Gil when things went too far. No one knew exactly what Gil he did but the other boy invariably kept away forever after.
            Christopher hardly went to school at all but this went largely unnoticed. Gil, like his father, disappeared for long stretches but always came back in the end. He was always there when Paul needed his help.
            Ann was sent to an all-girls' academy in town that taught domestic science and little else. Ever since she could remember, all Ann really wanted to do was get away. Her goal was to marry a man she could "manage." Eventually she found George, a mild-mannered sort whom she slowly drove to drink. Years of trying yielded a daughter who Ann tried to turn into her mother's Ginger dream. But ballet classes did the child no good and she finally gave up the family's dancing hopes. Like her mother and grandmother before her, Ann's daughter's only option was marriage. Hers, however was a reasonably good one producing two fine boys.
            Their conspicuous lack of it made Paul acutely aware of money. He also wanted the respect his father had squandered as easily as their share of the family inheritance.
            Fortunately, the University of Liverpool had a decent medical school. And while medicine wasn't the most revered profession in England, it was a good way to earn a living. Besides, he could live at home for another few years. Paul wasn't yet ready to leave Glynda.
            He grew tall, weedy and increasingly distant and secretive. These last traits in particular made the girls think Paul "romantic." He had a short affair with Chloe, another medical student, but Sebastian objected so loudly that it ended.
            Chloe eventually married another doctor with whom she happily shared children, grandchildren and a medical practice in the North of England. Chloe met Paul with remembered fondness at every medical school reunion. He always left her with a vague feeling of loss for what might have been.

Two

Leaving Liverpool

It is our choices... that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
J.K. Rowling

            The money and respect Paul wanted from medicine were in America, not England. Even Glynda couldn't fight a Harvard internship and orthopaedic residency in New York. After all, orthopaedic surgeons command respect and earn a great deal of money. In the end no one was more disappointed than Glynda when Paul's surgical residency didn't work out.
            Fainting at the sight of blood may not be greatest asset in a surgical theater; however, Paul could have mustered up the courage to overcome a queasy stomach, especially if the price was right. Others did. His big problem was Sebastian who turned up at the most inopportune times. Paul realized now that she was so far away how very important Glynda's strict control over Sebastian had been.
            Pathology was a better pick. It was intellectual, which suited Paul, as well as far more solitary and unstructured than surgery. He could deal with Sebastian as the need arose. Paul owed that much to the family.
            Then, quite unexpectedly, Paul began spending time with a woman he met over a mouse. She worked closely with Charles, a friend who had a laboratory near hers at large cancer research hospital. Paul and Macy were very well-suited. Neither had much depth of commitment and a common disinterest in one another's secret lives made friendship inevitable.
            Paul, Macy and Charles cooked together almost every Sunday. Fresh biscuits were a favorite. Paul and Macy talked as they cooked, more often than not finishing one another's sentences. Paul's secret ingredient? Bacon fat instead of shortening. Their favorite was a breakfast of bacon, eggs, tomatoes and those wonderful, wonderful bacon biscuits.

            For a time Sebastian was too busy enjoying New York to pay much attention to Paul's comings and goings. In addition to a demanding schedule of museums, concerts and opera, Sebastian was rushing through Proust, in it's seemingly endless entirety, to impress his latest "friend." Slowly though Sebastian began to suspect that Paul was hiding something and watched more carefully.
            He'd see Paul and Macy together and their increasing closeness ignited his suspicions. "My god, they're cooking mother's favorite foods!" He sniffed Macy's furniture, "It's polished with bacon grease!" There was the inevitable scene. "She's no good for you," Sebastian screamed in his irritating high-pitched voice. "She isn't even British," he added. "I'll bet there's no trust fund! What will Ann say? What about mother?"
            Paul gave in, he didn't have much stomach for argument and besides, there was a teaching position at the Orthopaedic Center in Oxford he was eager to get. It was offered, Paul accepted and left at once, without even saying goodbye. He didn't consult Sebastian either, just dragged him along. It was a just punishment, Sebastian had to leave his friends as well. "All that Proust for no good reason," wailed Sebastian.
            Paul began teaching almost immediately, leaving Sebastian to find lodgings. Sebastian settled on a very little house, just a cottage really, that Paul bought with a small inheritance. Sebastian busied himself with the decorating.
            Then Glynda died, quite suddenly and without fanfare. A blood vessel burst open in her brain and she was gone in seconds. His father drank himself to death within a few months.
            Sebastian became entirely Paul's responsibility. Ann had more than she could handle with her ever worsening marital problems. His sister's husband, it seemed to Paul, had become as "useless" as their father and Ann was reduced to running a boarding house to support her family. Christopher -who was no trouble at all-- spent most of his time with Ann, happily playing with his baby niece. Gil turned up here and there but never seemed to settle anywhere after Glynda's death. He was as elusive as a ghost.
            Paul consoled himself by cooking Glynda's favorite meals. On Sundays he'd put up a big pot of her famous "smoky" split pea soup: Frying onions and garlic in bacon fat; adding partially cooked split peas and simmering the mixture in boiling water until the flavors blended nicely. A final dash of salt and fistful of dill, that's all there was to it. Then Paul cut pieces of bread dough into lumps, slathered them with bacon fat and popped them into the oven to roast at 400oF. This simple recipe yielded cozy warm, familiar meals for a week. It made Paul feel as if Glynda was in the kitchen with him and he'd tell her everything that happened during the day.

      Sebastian found his first real love at Oxford, during Paul's second year there. He'd had passions before but tended to keep them secret and barely consummated. Sebastian's new "friend" though was different than all the others: a colleague of Paul's, an orthopaedic surgeon.
      Paul was appalled when he realized what was happening right under his nose. "What if someone on the hospital board finds out?" But no matter what Paul did or said, Sebastian refused to end it. Gil finally came around and "convinced" the surgeon to break it off. Sebastian never ever forgave Paul for ruining the first love of his life. Thus began an ever widening fracture between them.
      Paul and Gil were right of course. The scandal would have disgraced the family and all but ended Paul's career. Homosexuality was still a crime in England. Too embarrassed to stay at Oxford, Paul decided to go back to America where things were far more liberal. He explored opportunities and found what appeared to be the perfect appointment at a prestigious orthopedic hospital in New York City. The department chief was elderly and the future looked good.
      Paul got the job and easily settled into the hospital routine, concentrating on his career. Piece by piece, by whatever means it took, he acquired all the laboratories. He made the right friends and ferreted himself onto the medical board. Having little else in his life, Paul became ruthless in his quest for power, which he assumed would eventually be accompanied by money. Power and money were inexorably linked in Paul's mind. Having Gil as an ally didn't hurt at all when "persuasion" was required to achieve his goals.
      He and Macy resumed their friendship. She enjoyed Paul's company, he was amusing in a wacky "Goon Show" sort of way. Take, for example, the morning he picked up a pack of blood at a downtown hospital and, too "frugal" to pay for a taxi, climbed aboard a crowded rush-hour bus up to own hospital. Paul put the pack in his back pocket and somewhere along the way the crush was too much and it broke. As the other passengers screamed and pointed, Paul bolted from the bus and ran all the way to the hospital. There he was, a gangly, ostrich-like Brit hopping and bobbing down the street leaving a trail of blood and startled New Yorkers in his wake.

      When Sebastian realized that nothing very serious was likely to happen between Paul and Macy he became her friend as well. It was an agreeable arrangement. They "second acted" the ballet together, sneaking in with the paying crowd after the first intermission. They went to museums, concerts and movies together.
      Ann wasn't convinced though. She had a family to raise and Paul was the most consistent means of their support. But there was something deeper. Something darker. Something from their distant past that she pushed into the dimmest, darkest most inside part of her memory and Paul seemed not to remember at all. Ann was jealous.
      Paul's first apartment in Manhattan was an embarrassment to Sebastian and wasn't to Paul's liking either. Paul looked at the address of every patient who died in his hospital and eventually found one that seemed perfect. It had belonged to an elderly woman who, before she'd passed over, lived in a small apartment in a good building within walking distance of the hospital.
      The new apartment was also closer to Macy, who'd moved nearer to her work the year before. Sebastian began cluttering up it up at once and the apartment was soon bursting with "little treasures." Ann also sent on the things Sebastian collected at Oxford. She still had the chairs Glynda and Sebastian found in wartime Liverpool and promised to send them on as well someday.

Four

Halcyon Days

It was a summer of wisteria.
William Faulkner
Absalom, Absalom!

      It was inevitable that Sebastian would eventually discover the Ramble in Central Park. The Ramble is a magical place with waterfalls and hills, wooded paths and birds of all sorts and colors right in the middle of the city. In the mornings it's filled with bird watchers and locals out with their dogs. In the afternoons the scene abruptly changes as gays begin their parade. Men and boys of all shapes and sizes walk back and forth showing their wares, negotiating terms.
      Dicky, perched on "his" bench, held court every evening from about 5PM until dark. Men often stopped and talked as Laurence did this particular evening. The older man was very good-looking; distinguished, especially in full dress on his way to the opera, where he was going that evening.
      Laurence and Dicky exchanged Southern pleasantries, both were Virginians although from very different classes. In contrast to Dicky who came from a working-class background, Laurence was Virginia gentry. Sebastian was immediately besotted. He spotted Laurence a few weeks later at the opera and courted the older man openly. Laurence responded to Sebastian's advances with enthusiasm and eventually became the father Sebastian always wanted --one without an alcoholic's unprovoked rages and continual fault finding. As an added bonus, Paul never again had to buy Sebastian an opera ticket, Laurence gave him free access to the family box -one of the best in the house.
      Laurence was so proud of his family's confederate history he'd founded a vanity museum in the his hometown of Jefferson. Sebastian became a frequent guest in Virginia and loved it. The countryside reminded him of England; albeit the England to which he didn't have access: country houses and foxhunting. Sebastian felt as if he'd "come home" to a place he fully deserved but never had. It was glorious.
      Then Sebastian spotted a vacant, once-charming old house in Jefferson's historic district; it was very run down but Laurence thought the little house had a lot of potential and Sebastian agreed. He'd fallen in love with the house at first sight. They enquired, it was for sale, as was another house along side. The second house had no charm at all but combining the gardens would give a nice parcel of land as well as insure greater privacy.
      Sebastian got Paul in a hurry. "There's this house, this wonderful hand built house." Laurence would help him buy it and what's more, if he lived in Jefferson for at least part of the year Laurence would make Sebastian Trustee of his museum -which came with a trust fund. "That would more than pay for the upkeep of the house," Sebastian promised Paul. "It was beautiful, glorious, just what I've always wanted." "Ann will love it." Sebastian would decorate and fix, Paul thought, he'd be out of his hair. And he said "yes" to the house.
      It was bought with Laurence's help and Sebastian true to his word, thought about little else than painting and wallpapering and gardening. Paul was left alone to work and go out with Macy and other friends without Sebastian's continual interruptions and suspicions.
      Shortly after Paul bought the Virginia house, Snopsie and Wilma came to Jefferson hoping to find an apartment they could afford. They came from a small West Virginia town a few miles away and were best friends for as long as either could remember. They seemed destined to spend the rest of their lives together which was just fine with them. The men they knew were mostly unemployed coal miners like their fathers. Neither women wanted to repeat their mothers' short, painful lives; they'd seen too much.
      Time went by in an uneventful West Virginia sort of way. Then something exceptionally uneventful happened -- Snopsie 's brother and sister-in-law had a run in with the law and paid their debt to society the way poor people usually do, they went to jail. The court assigned the couple's two children to Snopsie, their closest relative. And suddenly, the two women were a couple with children. It happened overnight and turned their lives upside down. Wilma was a natural mother and took on her new role with enthusiasm.
      Snopsie, a skilled seamstress, planned on turning her side job making clothes for rich Virginians into full time work once they got to Jefferson, the closest town over the West Virginia state line. Rich people lived in Jefferson. Here she could earn enough to support Wilma and the children, but there wouldn't be much left over.
      Jefferson didn't have many rentals. One of the few available apartments was in Paul's "other" house on Wood Street. "The town has a very good free school," they explained when Paul asked why they wanted to move to Jefferson, "…and we have Snopsie 's niece and nephew to raise." The rent was still too high so Paul offered an alternative. If they'd help with the garden and make sure his house was clean he'd reduce the rent. Snopsie and Wilma said "yes" and became the caretakers of Paul's new house.
      The arrangement worked better than Paul ever imagined. The house was clean and the garden manicured. Snopsie even sewed bedspreads and upholstered chairs. Wilma picked Paul up at the Washington airport on the weekends he came to Virgina, making the trip easier.
      Over the years the little house in Virginia, like the apartment in New York, grew cluttered as Sebastian collected everything in sight with Paul's money. Sebastian also hired a student architect "friend" from New York and together they build a strange Romanesque façade on the back end of the garage.. A rather complicated waterfall poured out of its middle, emptying into a pool -just a little hole in the ground really-- in the center of the lawn. But the whole thing was badly designed and never worked correctly, something Paul never knew because Wilma and Snopsie stopped the pump and drained the pool as soon as he left. In fact, there were a lot of things that Paul never knew because Snopsie and Wilma ran the place so well.
      All in all, the little house in Virgina may not have been the peaceful refuge Sebastian promised and Paul envisioned, but it was still a good place to relax and entertain. His sister was impressed. Even Christopher turned up on occasion and had a wonderful time playing with the caretakers' children. But in the end Christopher always disappeared. Paul saw him less and less as the years went by and eventually he seemed to be gone forever.

Five

Betrayed

I grow old...I grow old...
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think they will sing to me.
T.S. Eliot
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

      Then the worse possible thing that could happen happened. Almost a decade after they moved in, Wilma and Snopsie gave notice. Sebastian was their problem too. Now that he was an embedded part of Laurence's inner circle, Sebastian had become increasingly pompous and bossy, treating them like servants. The caretakers' got on well with Paul and loved Christopher but Sebastian was making their lives a misery. Wilma and Snopsie fled the minute the children were grown and they could.
      Paul's serenity was shattered. Who would take care of his house? The garden? To make matters even worse, there was a little dog, Saffy. Sebastian had to have a dog to complete the faux "country gentleman" look that so impressed the Virginia social climbers he sought after as friends. Saffy was leash candy; just a fashion accessory. Beyond that Sebastian had no interest in the dog.
      So, in addition to all their other chores, Wilma and Snopsie took care of Saffy. And for years she was a moderately happy animal who knew little else than a garden in the center of a small Southern town. That ended when the caretakers abruptly left and Saffy moved to New York and became a city dog.
      Like the house in Virginia, Paul's life was falling apart. He looked back with despair at what he hadn't done and what he didn't have.
      Almost 50 years of sacrifice and hard work, for what? "Nothing," he brooded. Ann had enough of his money to be comfortable with that "good-for-nothing drunk" of a husband. Her grandchildren were getting the public school education Paul never had, at his expense. There was a falling down house in Virginia and a cluttered dark little apartment in New York, neither of which Paul cared a twig about. Sebastian decorated and redecorated, improved and remodeled continuously, all with Paul's money. Sebastian's best friends, flamboyant "faggots" like Dicky were a big part of the problem. They talked him into all sorts of extravagances. He should have been firmer with Sebastian, his mother was.
      Paul's former students, successful doctors now, had nice homes and families of their own. Paul was envious. "All I have is a parasitic sister and Sebastian. I'm their cash machine, nothing but a cash machine."
      The house in Virginia was a disaster. Did Ann do anything more than spend a week helping him garden every year? "No." He begged her to come more often and stay longer. "But no, her drunken husband needs her more."
      After all he'd done for them, his niece and her husband also refused to help. He'd asked them to move to Jefferson, offered them the house. His grandnephews could go to school there, think of the money he'd save. But they wouldn't, their lives were in England. "If you can't keep paying for the boys public school, that's all right -they can come home and finish in the town school, " said his "willful" niece. But Paul couldn't do that, he'd lose face with Ann.
      The caretakers were greatly missed. But they'd left when he needed them most. Didn't his generosity help get Snopsie's nephew and niece through school and the boy into a good college? "Family responsibilities," she said, waving "goodbye," leaving him on his own.
      Paul brought the little dog to New York and his life dissolved into a big muddle of misery. In contrast, Sebastian went back to his frenzied social life, running from one event to the next; spending hours every morning at a gym tying to ward off old-age.
      It was Paul who had to leave work early to take care of Sebastian's dog. Paul was ready to quit his job. "What good is it me anyway?" He was too old and disinterested to learn new things. Just about every laboratory test was a mystery now. Paul tried to bluff his way through with what he'd learned a nearly half century before, it didn't work of course.
      As far as the hospital was concerned Paul had become a professional liability, but getting rid of a department chief takes considerable ingenuity and tact. At 65 he could have retired with dignity and stayed on as an Emeritus Professor. But that would rob him of his only real refuge: the hospital was one place Sebastian was loathe to enter. "I'm the most famous doctor the hospital has," he kept telling himself. "It's as mother said, I'm too good for them…far too good for them."
      In reality, Paul had become the despised old laboratory chief he'd ridiculed more than 30 years ago as a junior pathologist. He too had outstayed his usefulness. Every day was a struggle. And the money wasn't even his to enjoy. Checks flew out to his sister, his grandnephews' school, Sebastian's rare book club and decorating extravaganzas.
      Paul worked and walked the dog. He didn't have time for anything else. Day by day his bitterness and depression escalated.
      Something had to be done. Maybe it wasn't too late. Paul begged Macy to help. She agreed but was wary. The last time Ann heard rumor that Macy was still in Paul's life she dispatched a plump elderly friend to New York to assess things first hand. Happy for a free vacation, Celia, who hadn't seen Paul for more than 50 years, moved herself into his small New York apartment and turned his life upside down for two agonizing weeks. She had tea with Macy and reported every detail back to Ann who nagged Paul without mercy.
      Macy didn't want to go through that again and besides, Paul couldn't afford to lose any more time from work because, as he said almost every time they spoke, "…the ice is cracking all around me."
      Paul told Macy again and again how miserable his life had become. "When I was a student Full Professors were gods," he'd say "..now I can't even get decent clerical help. My lab is a mess, the house in Virginia is a mess." Macy went with him to Jefferson. She had to agree, the house and it's once pretty garden had fallen to pieces without the caretakers.

      "If he behaves in the lab like he does in the kitchen," Macy thought "… it's no wonder there's a problem at the hospital." There was really only one thing she could do: take care of Saffy. The poor animal needed care even more than Paul. Saffy had become an anxious wreck of a dog. "Compulsive, neurotic," the vet said looking at her bare, nervous little tail. Macy wasn't sure that Dr. Rubinstein was referring to the dog or Paul.
      Macy and the dog went back to Virginia with Paul a few times but neither had much interest in Jefferson. Eventually he stopped asking them. Paul, it seemed, had to solve his problems by himself.

Six

Final Solution

"DON'T PANIC"
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
The words incribed in large friendly letters on the cover
Douglas Adams

      He had to get rid of Sebastian. Time was running short. Paul began obsessing over Charles' lost fight against prostate cancer a few years before. They were the same age, he and Charles. And Charles was already dead.
      Charles at least left two daughters, oddly conceived, but his genetic spawn anyway. The girls knew he was their father and loved him as did their mothers neither of whom he'd ever married. The scientific community mourned Charles as well. Had he lived, it was said, Charles would have gotten a Nobel for his ground-breaking research on oncogenes. "Who," Paul thought, "…will morn me." Even Macy was moving further and further away, taking the dog with her. He had no one.
      I'll be dead soon too, Paul thought. There isn't much time left: "I have to leave some sort of legacy; some sort of proof that I've ever been on this earth at all." Even his hated father's "name on earth wouldn't be dark," as Shelley so eloquently wrote about someone else altogether. But it applied, Richard at least had produced children and grandchildren
      Initially Paul just tried to get away. He'd sneak out of the apartment at dawn, long before Sebastian was awake, and drive to Virginia. Sebastian always turned up. How was a mystery. Paul escaped to every out-of-town medical meeting he could, but time away wasn't enough. Sebastian was always waiting when he got back.
      He'd get rid of Sebastian for good. Who would know more about killing than a pathologist? "No one," Paul thought, "no one." Paul was determined, killing was the only way to have a few months, perhaps even a few years of freedom. There were a lot of things he could still do: An orthopaedic pathology website, for example; that could make a nice profit and the money would be all his to spend. Sebastian would be gone and he'd keep it a secret from Ann.
      Paul was so confident he could kill Sebastian, he called Snopsie and Wilma and pleaded with them to come back to Jefferson. He was taking care of "the Sebastian problem." Paul would give them their old apartment for no rent at all and he'd sign legal papers saying it was theirs for life. They still weren't convinced. So he called a few days later and said they could also have the rent collected on the other apartment in their house. He needed them, "please." They finally agreed and promised to be back in Virgina within the next three or four months.
      Paul began to plan the killing.
      It wasn't as easy as he'd thought though. "Damn," all the "undetectable" poisons" Paul knew in his youth were detectable now. He called an old friend who worked in the coroner's office . At dinner Paul tried steer the conversation towards lethal drugs. The pathologist, who hadn't seen Paul in years, began giving him strange looks and kept quiet. Asking more questions would look very suspicious. Bone pathologists just didn't need to know that sort of stuff.
      Paul pilfered a little of the deadly bacterial toxin, Botox, from the hospital's pharmacy where it was kept on hand for patients with painful muscle spasms. He gingerly carried the Botox home and carefully put some on the glue of the fancy envelopes Sebastian used to send out notes. Weeks went by and nothing happened. Then he noticed that Sebastian had taken to moistening the envelopes with a sponge.
      He had a pathologist friend working at a New Jersey animal hospital. "Dogs," thought Paul, "were always dying of some poison or other." The guy was spastic, but maybe he'd have some ideas. He didn't though, Dr. Tusier looked very puzzled, even asking, jokingly of course, who Paul was trying to kill.
      He thought about drowning Sebastian in the pool behind the house in Jefferson. But when Paul looked there wasn't anything but an inch of slimy mosquito larva-infested water at the bottom. "Couldn't drown a flea in that." The pump was rusted and wouldn't start. For a moment Paul considered killing Sebastian's architect friend too.
      In desperation Paul took Sebastian sailing in France with the "Ancient Mariners," two of his old medical school buddies. Paul hoped Sebastian might "accidentally" lose his footing and fall overboard; a little push could help things along. Unfortunately, the other mariners found Sebastian so charming that he was never alone long enough for the fatal push. To make matters worse his buddies asked Sebastian to come along again the next year.
      Paul didn't plan on Sebastian being around that long. But killing him wasn't as easy as Paul envisioned. He needed Gil.

Seven

The Smoky Smell of Success

The lights went out in his eyes for absolutely the very last time ever.
Douglas Adams
So Long and Thanks for All the Fish

      Gil came and coldly assessed the situation. One look at Paul said all. He was gaunt, tired and, even worse, running out of money. Sebastian had to go. Gil would take care of it.
      The very next morning they drove to Virginia, stopping on the way to buy 20 pounds of country bacon at the best smoke house in Pennsylvania. Gil's treat.
      Paul started cooking as soon as he got to the house. As Gil instructed, he saved every last bit of bacon fat in jars and old yogurt containers until the refrigerator and freezer were overflowing. Then Paul began storing the precious fat all over the house. Eventually containers of it filled the kitchen, the study and finally the basement. It was getting cold in Jefferson and all the windows were shut tight. Paul lit a fire in the fireplace using bacon fat as a starter, the way his mother used to do. The delicious smoky odor of bacon permeated every corner and cranny of the house.
      The caretakers, only partially moved back, were away packing and saying their goodbyes. This would take another week or two at least. Paul expected to have Sebastian dead and out of the way by the time they returned to Jefferson.
      He began putting small amounts of phenobarbital in Sebastian's afternoon gin and morning tea, increasing the dosage little by little. Eventually Sebastian was lightly sedated all the time, night and day.
      Gil and Paul coated the basement stairs, little by little, with bacon grease. The wood was so absorbent it took more than a week to do. Sebastian would be practically incoherent by the time it was finished: as he had to be for the job to be done right.
      All during that time there was the wonderful, comforting food of childhood Liverpool. Green tomatoes coated in corn flour and fried with smoky bacon. Turkey breast slowly roasted in great slabs of bacon. Bacon and eggs with fried bread and sweet red tomatoes. At least Sebastian was going to die on a full stomach.
      When the stairs were greased to perfection -wouldn't Glynda be proud!-- Paul called to Sebastian: "Could you give me a hand, a fuse blew and I need some light to replace it?" Paul handed a groggy Sebastian the flashlight and walked him to the top basement stair. Sebastian teetered and tottered. Without hesitation Gil gave a push and Sebastian slipped and slid noisily to the concert floor below. There was nothing to hold onto, even the railing was slippery with grease.
      Paul heard little moans from the basement. They went on for longer than he'd expected, but by the next day the moans were weaker. Paul's heart was pounding in his chest: An aching wave of pain and sadness flowed over him. Paul almost relented, but Gil stopped him. "It's the only way, this has to be done now," Gil said. "We only have one chance. Wilma and Snopsie will be back in a day or two."
      Gil said they would bury Sebastian's body deep in the West Virginia woods. The timing of this too was critical, a frost was coming and soon the earth would be too hard to dig.
      The moans finally stopped on the third day. Paul and Gil sat on the stop of the stairs watching as Sebastian became very still. Christopher suddenly appeared and sat down beside them. Sebastian was dead. For one brief moment Paul was free. It was a wonderful, floaty feeling. As if his soul had wings. Paul had never felt anything so wonderful in the whole of his life until now.
      Moving together, Paul, Christopher and Gil went down to join Sebastian. Then the lights went out forever.
      And that was the end of Paul Sebastian Christopher Gil Ballow -Glynda and Richard's only son.

Eight

Postmortem

And you came home_________?
To die. Yes.
To die?
Yes. To die.
William Faulkner
Absalom, Absalom!

      The caretakers came back to Jefferson little more than a week later. The first morning they were home a neighbor came over to complain about a "strange smell" coming from Paul's house. "We saw Dr. Ballow two or three weeks ago but then he disappeared. The house is shut tight, he must have gone back to New York without taking out the garbage." "Just like him," Snopsie said.
      She went over, opened the kitchen door and was almost knocked off her feet by a blast of putrid air: a combination of death and rancid bacon grease. Snopsie ran back for Wilma and called the Sheriff who said not to go in without him. He came within the hour accompanied by the local doctor who was also the county coroner.
      The four went into the house through the kitchen door and quickly opened greasy, grime-covered windows. The sudden brightness revealed containers of bacon fat everywhere. The garbage hadn't been taken out in weeks. The upstairs was as foul as the first floor. The worse smell though was coming from below. The Sheriff opened the door to the basement and turned on the light. "Thousands" of rats scampered and scurried away.
      The stairs were covered in rancid bacon grease. Crumpled at the bottom was a badly decomposed, partially devoured body. It was bagged and taken away.
      Wilma, gasping like a fish out of water, was rapidly sliding into a full blown hysteria. Snopsie walked her back to their apartment, poured two brandies and called Paul's home number in New York. No answer. She called the hospital. "Paul hasn't been here in more than a month…" the assistant pathologist said. "…we're very worried." Snopsie found Ann's telephone number and, hand trembling, called her in Liverpool. "Have you heard from your brother in the past few weeks?" Ann said "no" but that wasn't so unusual. "Then" said Snopsie "you've got to come right away, a body's been found in the house and it may be Dr. Ballow's."
      Ann called the airline, explained the emergency and she and George got aboard the next plane to Washington. Snopsie picked them up at the International airport around midnight. First thing in the morning they spoke with the coroner who said it probably was Dr. Ballow but he wouldn't know with certainty until the dental records arrived. The body was too badly decomposed. Although suicide hadn't been ruled out, it certainly wasn't a murder so Ann could begin cleaning the house out.
      Ann salvaged what she could. She and George boxed the silver and linens and sent them back to England. A cleaning company came in and set about readying the house ready for sale. It was put on the market the next day and the caretakers were charged with showing it to potential buyers. The agent didn't have much hope of a quick sale though. Paul had signed legal documents giving Wilma and Snopsie their apartment for life, rent-free. Indeed, there was no income at all from the second house. Not surprisingly, years later Paul's house was still vacant with no buyers in sight.
      The New York apartment was easier. Everything of value was sent back to England and an agent sold it within three months. The apartment was priced for fast sale, Ann wasn't in the mood to haggle.
      Macy was used to Paul disappearing for months at a time and was shocked and greatly grieved when a stranger called from the hospital to say he was dead. A small service would be held the following Saturday. Ann was there and the two finally made their peace. Chloe and her husband came as well. Ann discovered that she actually liked the women she'd been so wary of for so long.
      George rose to the occasion. He'd made sure that Paul's remains were safely delivered to England and buried near Glynda and Richard. He comforted his wife during her worse days of mourning. George was needed and, as it turned out, loved. Without Paul's constant criticism Ann's marriage began to work.
      Paul's death was ruled a suicide -a rather bizarre suicide, but a suicide nonetheless-- so Ann wouldn't get his insurance. She did get his savings though and pension. Eventually, although she would never say it out loud, Ann began to see Paul's death as a blessing. Almost a year later a far more content Ann finally sat down to write thank you letters to Chloe and Macy. She chose the beautiful note paper with fancy envelopes she'd found among Paul's belongings in New York. As she licked the envelopes, Ann noted a very strange taste.
      Wilma and Snopsie grew old together in Jefferson and kept the property up as best they could. Paul's house never did sell. People in town said it was haunted.
      And, indeed, it was. Inside Paul cooked, Sebastian read poetry, Christopher played and Gil brooded. A delicious smell of frying bacon sometimes wafted out onto the street.

Letter to Emerging Psychiatry July, 2003

To the Editor:
      A bizarre suicide was recently brought to our attention by the Roknapatee County, Virginia coroner. The deceased, a 67-year old physician whom I shall call "Dr. X," was found in the basement of his Jefferson home. He'd been dead for approximately 10 days. The body was badly decomposed and partly devoured by rats. Dental records confirmed the deceased's identity.
      The stairs and railings leading to the basement were coated with bacon grease. Bacon grease, stored in various kinds of containers, was found all over the house. Tissue samples from the corpse contained high levels of phenobarbital and alcohol. Stomach contents revealed a hardy last meal of bacon, eggs, tomatoes and bread.
      My colleague and I undertook a detailed investigation into the deceased's state of mind prior to his suicide. Clear evidence of worsening psychopathology emerged from extensive interviews with family, friends and colleagues. Medical records, obtained with permission from "Dr. X's" sister, document an escalating number of stress-related medical problems during the three years prior to his death (including frequent, very painful herpes simplex exacerbations that left him blind in one eye; as well as bouts of incapacitating "bronchitis;" and a variety of odd itchy skin rashes).
      The evidence strongly suggests that the deceased suffered a variant of Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID; otherwise known as Multiple Personality Disorder). Interestingly, one insightful long-time friend told me that "Dr. X" had four names and each seemed to have a personality all it's own. "Paul" was the "proper" academic professor; "Sebastian" a flamboyant homosexual; "Christopher" sweet and childlike; "Gil" cold and ruthless..
      Although never fully integrated, "Dr. X" was able to control and compartmentalize the various personalities for most of his life. "Paul worked as a laboratory physician; "Sebastian" loved poetry, pictures and rare books; "Christopher" cuddled and played; and "Gil" frightened away adversaries.
      However, "Dr.X's" alters became increasingly fractured with the overwhelming stress of impending retirement compounded by some seemingly minor personal setbacks. Indeed, by the time of his death, the personalities didn't even appear to recognize one another as "self." Remarkably, the usual amnesic barriers between alters were not evident in this patient.
      Destruction of the most anxiety provoking personality was the only way "Dr. X" thought he could escape what had become an intolerable conflict. But which personality was the killer and which the victim?
      "Christopher" can be immediately ruled out as either, he was too innocent. "Gil" may have had a hand in the killing but was far too detached and incomplete a fragment to have instigated it. That leaves "Paul" and "Sebastian."
      Notably, "Paul" earned the money and "Sebastian" spent it. Many of those interviewed reported that "Paul," always "thrifty" became "increasingly miserly" with age. Thus, it stands to reason that "Paul" would want to get rid of "Sebastian," probably enlisting "Gil" as an ally.
      The significance of bacon grease? As other DID patients, "Dr. X" suffered a very traumatic childhood. His father was abusive and mother both overprotective and sexually provocative. Mother and son eventually developed an abnormally "close" relationship. However, whenever Paul became aroused by his mother he transformed himself into the homosexual "Sebastian," as a protection from incestuous thoughts. He loved his mother deeply nonetheless and never came to terms with her sudden and unexpected death. The taste and smell of bacon brought back her memory which, with enough alcohol, helped him escape an increasingly intolerable anxiety.
      What happened to "Dr X"- one personality coming into deadly conflict with another without the usual amnesic barriers-may be more common in patients with multiple personalities than is generally recognized. The striking case of "Dr. X" should alert psychiatrists and other clinicians to the very real danger of "unintentional" suicide in DID patients. We strongly recommend that aggressive pre-emptive interventions, including hospitalization, be initiated without delay when seemingly irresolvable personality conflicts emerge these patients.

1. Rieber RW. The duality of the brain and the multiplicity of minds: can you have it both ways? Hist Psychiatry 2002; 13 (49):3-17
2. Cohen E. When patients with multiple personalities kill. Annals Forensic Psychiatry 1995; 4 (2): 24-36.
3. Dorahy MJ. Dissociative identity disorder and memory dysfunction: the current state of experimental research and its future directions. Clin Psychol Rev 2001; 21 (5): 771-795.

Who's Who
In Ballow World

Family:
Glynda. Overprotective, emotionally demanding mother. Focuses all her love, hopes and dreams on her children.
Richard. Cold, brutal father. Cares little for his family or, indeed about much else than drinking and womanizing.
Ann. Glynda's first-born. Doomed by a shoddy education to follow in her mother's footsteps.
Paul. Glynda's favorite. The one with the best chance for success.
Sebastian. Flamboyant and largely uncontrollable. The opposite of and in constant conflict with Paul.
Christopher. Adorable. Everyone's delight.
Gil. Cold. A replica of his father.
George. Ann's henpecked husband

Friends:
Chloe. The woman with whom Paul has his first affair.
Macy. A longtime, albeit emotionally distant, companion.
Charles. The multi-talented colleague who introduces Paul to Macy.
Dicky. Sebastian's confidant in Central Park.
Laurence. The wealthy older man who takes Sebastian to Jefferson, Virginia.
Saffy. The little dog.

Caretakers:
Snopsie. Energetic, bright but uneducated woman who supports her niece and nephew by sewing for wealthy Virginians.
Wilma. Snopie's partner.