Doctor Hule's Other Selves

Xavier,

Please, forgive me. I am not usually the type to slip letters under someone’s door in the middle of the night, though for reasons that will soon become clear, I had no choice. There is something I must share with you, but were Morton to overhear us discussing it, even in the hushest of hushed tones, we would risk losing both of our employments.

As the overseer of the house, Morton is very close to Doctor Hule. He has known him for decades, in fact. And so he is in denial of the true nature of what is happening here, and refuses to talk about it lest he besmirch not just his place of work but also an old friend.

Still, it cannot be denied: there is something wrong with Doctor Hule. Which is to say, the man who just this past week hired you as his footboy is not one man, but three.

As everyone knows, Doctor Hule made his name by the study of astronomy. But his interest in the sciences extends beyond the stars. Most recently, he has developed a taste for alchemy. Of course, Morton made sure to keep this out of the news, as a respected astronomer experimenting in something long thought to be the pursuit of madmen would certainly raise some eyebrows. And yet, Doctor Hule made some progress. If you can call it that.

He concocted an elixir that he hoped would give the human mind freedom from sleep. This would allow him to study the stars all night and analyze his findings during the day. But the elixir had an undesirable effect. Not only does he no longer rest; he undergoes mood swings coinciding with the moon’s shifting phases. Though, ‘mood swings’ is a polite term, considering he becomes, in his manner and even sometimes appearance, an entirely different person.

It goes as follows: from the new moon to the waning gibbous, he is himself, the venerable Doctor Tremulous Hule. From the full moon to the first quarter, he is Lithe Tuckman, a chronically scared, sniveling little man who cowers at anything above a whisper. Then, for one terrible phase–the waxing crescent–he transforms into Earnest Supreme, a boisterous bleary-eyed fight-prone drunk who is continually discussing (but never actually writing) his own poetry.

So, now you see the dire nature of your new employment. But, poor Xavier, it is worse for you. For, as his footboy, you are in charge of charging his phone. Though herein lies an issue, for Doctor Hule uses an iPhone, Lithe Tuckman an LG Nexus, and Earnest Supreme a Samsung Galaxy. And they are all sticklers when it comes to clutter. So you will need to find a way to charge each of their phones without there being an excess of cables around.

I know the task seems nigh impossible, and I would not begrudge you for handing in your resignation post haste. But, Xavier, I hope you remain on with us, for I see in you the true devotion that Doctor Hule needs right now.

Sincerely,
Dreb Tonklin
Senior Toiletman
Estate of Doctor Tremulous Hule