Readers often ask for more information about WISHBONE’s manipulated (and volatile) manifestation, Jerome Grenier, father of Protagonist, Julien.
Jerome haunts Julien’s nightmares and is inevitably manifested to teach Julien a lesson or two (or three!), keeping him in line. Here is some back story on Jerome… Perhaps he is a bit misunderstood.
Jerome was a French Boxing Champion. He came from hard working farmers…a successful dairy farm, but not wealthy by any means. One could say…from the wrong side of the tracks.
When Gabrielle became pregnant, it was the second happiest moment in Jerome’s life (second only to the first moment his eyes met Gabrielle’s). Jerome retired from boxing and moved Gabrielle to the dairy farm where he would be working alongside his father. Gabrielle took to the country immediately. She loved everything about it and especially long days of baking and making cheese with her mother-in-law which reminded her of working with her father at the chocolat shoppe.At night, together in bed, Jerome would regularly ask her, “Are you happy here? We can live in Paris.” Gabrielle would softly laugh, her tiny hand dwarfed by his calloused palm; she would press it to her belly, “Say goodnight to your son, Jerome.” Jerome asked again and again how she knew the baby would be a boy, but she would only say she knew.A few months into her pregnancy she began referring to the baby as Julien and Jerome followed without question. The thought of having a son so overwhelmed Jerome and he couldn’t wait to do all the things he had done with his own father, now with Julien.
One evening Jerome was out in the field repairing a fence at the end of a long work day when his father called to him, “Jerome! It’s time.” Jerome hurried back to the house where the mid-wife had already arrived. From the salon Jerome could hear his wife cry. He paced and paced and stepped outside to smoke hand rolled tobacco cringing at the sound of Gabrielle bringing their son into the world. It pained him to hear her and as her screams became more dire he left the porch.
Pacing on the dirt pathway he could not escape Gabrielle’s agony until everything ceased and stillness fell upon the farm. He stopped pacing and froze still, he looked back to the house and waited to hear his son’s voice for the very first time when seconds later, he did.
A missing toothed grin from ear to ear he bounded toward the porch steps but before he could reach them, his father stepped out with the baby swaddled in a soft white blanket held snug in his arms; his mother followed and dropped to her knees, genuflecting and sobbing as she gripped the chipped wood railing.
Jerome was confused…he took a few steps closer and slowly came up the stairs. Through the screen door he saw the midwife in the middle of the salon, her face cupped in her hands as she bawled. His father reached up and placed one hand on Jerome’s shoulder as if to stop him from entering the house. The baby began to wail in his grandfather’s arms and Jerome knew his beautiful Gabrielle was gone forever.