Week 1 Story: The Death of Mister Brown

The Death of Mister Brown

It was a rainy day as the bells pealed solemnly throughout the cobbled streets and vacant storefronts. Melancholy hung in the air making it almost impossible to breathe. Depression dug its talons into the inhabitants of the village—threatening to never let go. The town mourned their beloved milliner. Mister Brown was last seen walking home late at night. His coat billowed out from his tall, thin frame. He clutched the rim of his favorite brown hat that matched his favorite worn coat against the shrieking wind. After the death of his wife many years ago, Mister Brown moved from the apartment near his shop to a small cottage in the forest nearby. He always claimed that he enjoyed the brisk walk down the rolling hills away from the town. He felt that he was best able to talk to his dear departed wife when he was alone. Many of the villagers expressed worry about his living so far away:

Landscape with Cottage from the public domain of the

Metropolitan Museum of Art. Source:Archive

                “What about the wolves, Mister Brown?” inquired dainty schoolmistress Margaret McGee.

                “Oh Abram, you can’t possibly feel better all alone out there. It would chill even my bones,” remarked Ivan, the butcher, as he hacked the head off of a halibut.

However, Mister Abram Brown, paid no attention to their worries. That last night he snugly buttoned up his coat, pulling the lapels up against his neck. Then nodded to Ivan as he closed down his shop.

                “Be careful out there, Abram. It’s hard to tell if that howling is the wind or the wolves,” warned the butcher.

                “I don’t fear wolves, dear Ivan,” Mister Brown spoke in his wise, wizened voice, “My greatest fear has already come to pass. There’s no sense to worry about what might happen in the future.” He tipped his hat against the wind, and smiled a grave smile to his dear friend. Ivan watched the wiry figure of Mister Brown become a blurry shadow in the fog that was creeping up the hill. Ivan said a quick prayer for his friend and hurried home.

                As Mister Brown walked onto the dirt road that turned toward his beloved cottage, he spotted a shimmering figure in the distance. Her golden tresses cascaded down her back, drawing attention to her tiny waist. Her gossamer gown pooled on the ground, and when she lifted her slender wrist, it exposed her pale skin. He recognized her easily. He walked toward her, and she quickly fell into step beside him. She beamed up at him, and he gazed into her brilliant sapphire eyes. She was here. His only true love. Elizabeth.

                “Mrs. Brown, I’ve missed you so.”

                “And I you, my Abram.”

                “Life seems so dull without you, my little light.”

                “Abram,” Elizabeth spoke carefully, “do you love me?”

                “Of course! Did you ever doubt it?”

                “Even though I never bore you children?” Elizabeth nervously inquired.

                Abram stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. She twirled slowly to mirror him. He raised his hand to touch her face, paused, and then moved again to touch her. Her face dissipated under his touch like an image in a stream. Mister Brown choked back a sob—bringing his bony fingers to his dry lips. He swallowed hard while the tears welled up in his eyes. Elizabeth looked on forlornly. She knew she was helpless. Unless…she pressed forward.

                “Abram,” Elizabeth ominously said, “what do you want?”

                He looked at her with a gaze that told her everything. It was one of yearning in the most pure form. It chronicled their love from the first sight to the last goodbye. Elizabeth stepped forward tentatively. Her graceful form inched closer to his until they were a breath away.

                “Are you sure?” she muttered breathlessly. Mister Brown looked lovingly down into her eyes.

                “I’ve spent too many days without you here. I’ve lived a good life. A simple life. I have no regrets.” he assured. Elizabeth smiled and carefully pressed her delicate lips against her husband’s. Mister Brown began to hear a sweet whistle in his ear, and an ethereal glow began to envelop them both.

                “Welcome to our next adventure,” Elizabeth whispered tenderly in Mister Brown’s ear. Mister Brown finally took his wife in his arms once more. He cradled her beautiful face and kissed the tip of her nose, her forehead, and her cheeks determinedly and steadily. As the wind rushed through the village, and a lone wolf howled in the distance, Mister and Misses Brown winked into eternity.

                The villagers mourned the loss of their dear milliner. They knew not where he had gone, but they hoped he had found a peaceful end. They placed flowers at his shop door. When Miss McGee stopped to shed a few tears, Ivan placed a sturdy hand on her shoulder.

                                                            “Her death. They parted

 but soon reunited . 

Elizabeth and Abram, together they’ll be.

 Arm in arm through eternity.

While we all will miss,

they'll now live in bliss.

Elizabeth and Abram, together they'll be.

Arm in Arm quite happily.” 

Author's Note: The original nursery rhyme was about a man who had died and used to wear an old, brown coat. In my elementary school choir, we sang a dirge-like song to this nursery rhyme. I decided I wanted to give Abram Brown a happier ending. It's  also a rather short rhyme, and I really wanted an opportunity to give it more meaning. Who was Abram Brown? How did he die? 

Bibliography: This story is based on "Old Abram Brown is Dead and Gone" from The Nursery Rhyme Book edited by Andrew Lang.