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Dr. Saul Arbuthnot oiled his machine and awaited his next visitor, Mrs. Abbie Crutch. She was a wealthy dowager whose only concern was to outlive her young sister, whom she had always hated. If she won in the longevity context, she would be the sole heiress to her father’s fortune. She probably did not have long to live, but owning the fortune even for a minute would fulfill a lifelong dream. Dr. Arbuthnot’s steam contraption seemed her best chance for achieving her objective, short of outright assassination of her sister. The trouble with that latter, messy course, was the provision in her father’s will disinheriting anyone convicted of a felony.
Arbuthnot’s Steam Cleansing Machine was a marvel, exhibited first at the London Fair of 1855. The technology was essentially the same as for the steam locomotive, the only exception being its application to medical rather than transportation purposes. The brochures offered through the proper use of the machine “eternal life” and “youthful vitality.” In confidence the good doctor would say the machine prolonged life, perhaps lessening some of the symptoms of advanced age. Arbuthnot’s supporters included elderly men whose active libidos still allowed them to perform at age ninety-five and elderly ladies who had cast away their crutches after a single session on the marvelous machine.
Mrs. Crutch, a widow for forty years, only wanted the machine to extend her earthly existence for another decade. A provision of her contract with Dr. Arbuthnot was that he would not offer his services to her sister during that period. Another provision was a matter of insurance. If the machine should for any reason not perform as advertised, an indemnity of one million pounds would be paid to the Crutch estate by the doctor or his estate. The latter provision was concerning to Dr. Arbuthnot and his backers except that the fees for using the machine for three years would more than pay for the indemnification.
In the middle of the Arbuthnot Operating Theater stood a zinc table with ridges around the sides to guide any fluids into scuppers that fed standing containers on the floor. An incandescent light above the table was powered by the same steam engine that did the cleansing work. That engine was connected to a steam generator in the form of a wood-and-coal furnace on the top of which was fastened a metal container full of water, which boiled to form the steam. The pressure of a steam jet propelled a flywheel with metal paddles. The wheel drove a screw, which forced the flow of water of adjustable temperature through whatever human orifice needed douching.
The marvelous engine also drove water through a hempen hose for washing down the floor. Unadvertised was the use of the area under the furnace as a crematory. For a fee, Dr. Arbuthnot cremated deceased animals and persons in that firebox. Fastidious, he would clean out the ashes after every cremation and place them in a labelled box of the customer’s choice. Truth be told, the earnings from this service paid the overhead expenses for his practice.
On the operating floor was a dressing room in which his patients would disrobe before slipping into a back-opening hospital gown. When Mrs. Crutch arrived on her two canes, she hobbled into that room to prepare for her session. Dr. Arbuthnot’s nurse Miss Newbell helped the patient to the zinc table, which had been warmed to the normal temperature of the human body. Mrs. Crutch lay back down on the table and fiddled with the scupper nearest her right hand while Nurse Newbell connected the flushing coil with its intake and outtake pipes to her rectum. The patient witnessed the nurse filling the three clear jars with colored cleansing liquids, red, green and orange, coded correspondingly to the three therapeutic actions for her bowels. The first liquid would flush her lower and upper colon segments of their contents. The second liquid would wash the insides of the colon gently to assure no particulate matter clung to the colon walls to cause diverticulitis. The third liquid laved the clean colon with a patented medicinal compound known to inhibit growths.
Mrs. Crutch was anxious to commence her treatment since she had arranged for tea with her sister following her session. Nurse Newbell knew her habits well, so she wrapped the patient in hot towels, warmed on the top of the steam generator. She handed Mrs. Crutch a long straw through which a saline and sugar concoction could be imbibed. Only when everything was in readiness did the nurse fetch Dr. Arbuthnot to administer his regimen.
“How are we today, Mrs. Crutch?” he said in his best bedside manner. He smiled and his moustache twitched above his lips. He looked at the woman’s pupils one by one.
“How do you think you’d feel, Doctor, if you had a pair of tubes stuck up your posterior?” Mrs. Clutch inquired. She sucked her straw and scowled. “Can you put something worth drinking in this liquid? Gin would do nicely. Just add it to my bill.”
Dr. Arbuthnot nodded to Nurse Newbell, who inverted a quart bottle of gin into the liquid and stirred it with a glass rod. The patient’s frown turned into a seraphic smile. Arbuthnot asked, “Are you ready now?”
The woman nodded, no longer looking at the doctor but at something only she could see in the middle distance. Her eyes then acquired a faraway look. Dr. Arbuthnot raised two long, well-manicured fingers and lowered them. The nurse flipped a switch, and the engine’s screw did its magical work. The first of the three jars of liquid slowly emptied into the patient’s rectum while an equivalent effluent of reddish brown liquid emptied from the patient’s rectum into a large wooden tub at the foot of the table.
Mrs. Crutch continued to drink, but she wanted to talk today. “Dr. Arbuthnot, tell me again what’s happening to me.”
He nodded as he watched the gauges and dials on his contraption. “Right now you are absorbing the red liquid from the first jar on the shelf. The natural action of your upper and lower colon is to expel excess liquid, so the mixture of liquids is expressed to the tub beneath the table. The temperature of the liquid flow into your bowels is governed by the engine. The solution you’re drinking will replenish electrolytes lost in the process. Once the red liquid has done a preliminary cleansing of your lower alimentary tract, we’ll replace your hot towels and have you drink and rest. Then we’ll transition to the green liquid and finally the orange.
The old woman raised her straw and said, “Well, here’s to you and your machine, Doctor! And here’s to your looking up my ass in due course as well. I have to attend tea after this session, so I don’t want to waste any time. Do you understand me?”
The doctor nodded and adjusted a dial while he watched a pressure gauge. “Yes, Mrs. Crutch. We want to be sure, though, that we don’t skip any steps in the procedure. We don’t want to violate the terms of our agreement. You want to outlive your sister, don’t you?”
Mrs. Crutch smiled and nodded. She put her straw in her mouth and sucked in the heavenly mixture. She closed her eyes and listened to the noise of the engine, which put her to sleep.
Nurse Newbell awakened her after the red liquid had passed through her. She replaced the towels with hot new wraps. Seeing that the gin mixture needed replenishment, she poured another half bottle into the vat feeding the straw. Dr. Arbuthnot fed the engine more wood and checked the dials. He took Mrs. Crutch’s pulse and looked into her eyes for signs of unusual dilation. “Now we’re going to start the cleansing action with the green liquid. This will massage your tract and remove deposits that have not been flushed properly by your bodily functions. This will prevent further buildup and inhibit nasty growths.”
At this point, Mrs. Crutch seemed to be floating rather than resting on an operating table. She was dreamily drinking her gin and tonic. She acknowledged what the doctor said with a nod. He signaled the nurse to flip her switch. The green liquid began emptying into the patient’s bowels. The doctor used his fingertips to press gently against the patient’s lower abdomen. A greenish brown liquid streamed into the large tub where the reddish brown liquid lay. A stench arose, and the doctor and nurse tried to breathe through their mouths, but the smell was overpowering. Mrs. Crutch did not seem to notice, but the stench was hers.
When the green liquid had run through her body, Dr. Arbuthnot told his patient to drink while his nurse exchanged the old towels for new hot ones. “We’re now going to administer the last potion. This contains a medicinal compound that will heal any natural lesions and provide a coating in your colon to allow liquids and solids to be processed naturally without impeding their flow.”
The orange liquid began flowing down from the jar above the zinc table into the patient. Mrs. Crutch smiled as the warm liquid flowed into her. The effluent was almost the same color as the influx. The doctor was pleased since this meant the first two cleansings had properly done their jobs. The orange liquid completed its course just as Mrs. Crutch completed her gin and tonic. Nurse Newbell removed the patient’s towels and disconnected her rectal tubes. She used hot cloths to wipe the patient clean. She helped Mrs. Crutch to sit up on the edge of the table where she replaced the patient’s wet robe with a new dry one. When the patient was ready, she helped her to the dressing room where the patient dressed for tea.
Before she departed the Operating Theater, Mrs. Crutch signed the check for her therapeutic session. Dr. Arbuthnot remarked on how good her color was. He asked her whether she still thought her canes were necessary. She smiled and said, “Gin always hits the spot. As for my canes, I don’t want my sister to realize what I’m doing. I’ll hobble along to tea. Afterward, I’ll see whether I need my two extra legs. Good day, Doctor and Nurse. I’ll be back next month for my next cleansing.”
When Mrs. Crutch left the building, Dr. Arbuthnot countersigned Mrs. Crutch’s check and raced to her bank to cash it. He did not want to wait an extra second in case his patient died suddenly. Meanwhile, Nurse Newbell emptied and cleaned the tub. She also refilled the three jars and shut down the steam engine, taking care to clean the furnace.
Mrs. Crutch reached the tea room as she had planned. Her sister Alice was not looking well, and this delighted her. As the sisters drank tea and ate petit fours, Alice bemoaned her financial tribulations and blamed her ungrateful children for all her ills. When Abbie remarked that she looked pale and unusually stressed, Alice broke down and wept. She said her physician had given her only three more months to live.
Mrs. Crutch took her hand and smiled. She said, “I know just what you need. Gin. It’s always worked for me when I’m blue.”
Alice blinked and wiped her tears. “Do you really think that would help me?”
Mrs. Crutch closed her eyes and nodded knowingly. She thought the liquor would ease the pain for her sister’s passing. Secretly, she hoped her sister would die soon.
Three months and three treatments later, Mrs. Crutch met her sister again for tea. Mrs. Crutch did not need her crutches anymore, so she walked upright without support to their tea table. There her sister sat, hale and hearty, with a youthful-looking man sitting by her side. She introduced the man as Sir Charles Furbish, KBE.
Mrs. Crutch said, “Alice, I thought you were going to live only three more months. Instead, you’re looking wonderful. Tell me how you did it!”
Alice cocked her head and indicated the youthful-looking man who sat beside her. “Charlie helped me, but the key was gin. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your advice.” Mrs. Crutch saw the knight was holding her sister’s hand in the way lovers do. She could not help but feel jealous as well as alarmed.
“And just look at you, sister. You are walking without your canes and looking ten years younger. Where did your wrinkles go?”
“I owe everything to gin, Alice.”
Sir Charles nodded sagely. He said, “The only gin I know that can perform such miracles is the Steam Cleansing Machine, the steam engine miracle of our time. I go to Dr. Arbuthnot for the treatment weekly. I was at death’s door before I entered treatment. I couldn’t raise myself for any occasion. Now I’m in the prime of life again. Alice can attest whether I can rise with the best of men.”
Alice shyly nodded. “I was going to take the treatment too, but the doctor told me his schedule was full. So, instead, Charlie is my treatment.” Her body language indicated the man was now her constant lover.
Mrs. Crutch nodded cannily. She knew just what his treatment comprised—love, and plenty of it. Still, her jealousy aside, Abbie saw what Dr. Arbuthnot’s machine was capable of not only for herself but for this man. She resolved to find a knight of her own. Perhaps if she found a man like Charlie, she could replicate her sister’s miracle.
Mrs. Crutch researched British Peerage and made a list of widower peers. She wrote letters to each, offering companionship. Only one replied. When she visited the centenarian at his estate, she discovered he was as hearty as a young blood. In no time, he ripped off her clothing and had her on the oriental rug in his study. He then had her in front of the fireplace in his great room. He finally had her in the greenhouse where the orchids bloomed. Rather than being insulted by the man’s importunate and randy behavior, she was curious how he could be so spry at one hundred years of age.
The Earl said, “I’ve been taking the cure, of course. The Steam Cleansing Machine has me going as I’ve not gone in forty years. Would you like to have another round of love? We still have one hundred fifty rooms we haven’t tried.”
The man had a point. Perhaps he had more than one point. Mrs. Crutch, who had always wanted to marry a peer, was game. She became the earl’s mistress gladly. Instead of going to tea at the tea shop in the city, she invited her sister and Sir Charles to come to high tea at Asbury Estate. There Sir Charles and the Earl of Asbury had a long chat in the earl’s library while the sisters explored the spacious grounds.
When they had all gathered in the tea room, the earl asked whether the others would like to see the real secret of long life. Of course, they were most eager to witness this phenomenon. He took them to his basement where a special room was tricked out exactly like Dr. Arbuthnot’s Operating Theater. The earl explained it was the original and prototype of the Steam Cleansing Machine. He had funded Dr. Arbuthnot on the condition the original machine, with upgrades, should remain at his estate.
“Dr. Arbuthnot drives his carriage out here Fridays to administer my treatment. He brings his cleansing and medicinal solutions—and his lovely nurse. My butler keeps the furnace and oils the engine. I call it my perpetual life machine. It’s my ultimate revenge against pesky relatives an other vultures waiting for me to die.”
Alice asked, “Why doesn’t every peer have the steam engine to keep young?”
He replied, with a sly wink, “That would remove my comparative advantage.”
“Dr. Arbuthnot refuses to let me take the treatment. He says his schedule is full.”
The earl said, “Nonsense. I’ll write him a note. As long as you can afford the treatment, he’ll provide it on my signature.”
Mrs. Crutch was of two minds about this development. On the one hand, she had acquired her nobleman, and she knew she would keep him as long as she satisfied his libido. On the other hand, she saw her sister was not going to die in the near future. So their competition changed character. She and her sister became increasingly youthful while their lovers did likewise. All made love as if there were no tomorrow because that invigorated and made them youthful.
Dr. Arbuthnot was happy to gain a new paying customer, who formerly had been forbidden by Mrs. Crutch, now one of his great success stories. He could now boast of having cured two sisters of the disease of growing old. He continued to minister to Sir Charles and the Earl of Asbury though he despaired of convincing the earl to open the use of his invention to his peers.
As for Nurse Newbell, her bread was buttered as long as she satisfied Dr. Arbuthnot’s apparently insatiable appetite for love. She had been his first, experimental patient and, in due course, she became his lover. She and the doctor privately joked about gin, their steam engine and the genie that was life. They knew the Steam Cleansing Machine was the medical breakthrough of their age. Gin helped in its cleansing process. As for the genie of life, who could gainsay love, which precedes and conquers all?