Haunted Mansion- Tale of the Crowned Guest

Anyone who has visited the Mansion knows of the wild parties held in its exquisite ballroom. Among the permanent guests is one Tiber Garrett who lives in a state of eternal joy.

Tale of the Crowned Guest

Name: Tiber Garrett

Born: February 27, 1791

Died: February 27, 1872

            Madam Victoria “Tangerine” Boufont’s parties were legendary. Anything could happen and usually did. Parisian soirees, Grecian festivals and Roman bacchanalia filled the social calendar. To be invited was an honor and to attend was a joy. The most coveted invitation of all was to Madam Boufont’s own birthday fete. Only her closest friends attended and they were acclaimed members of the family.

            On a bright New Year’s Day 1859, Victoria happened to meet the city’s newest resident, Miss Abnoba Garrett. More precisely, she overheard an unusual exchange between a harried hatter and a severe looking woman whose eyes glinted with mischievous glee.

            “I don’t care if a small and prim bonnet is the style. I want a wide hat with red lace and pink flamingo feathers.”

            “But Madam…”

            “’Madam’ me not, Sir! I am 62 years old and unmarried. How can I attract a husband if your hat makes me look like every other conniving little Miss out there?”

            There being no other woman in the Western Hemisphere who shared Tangerine’s love for the absurd so completely, they became instant and lifelong friends. Or as Victoria put it, “Abby, we’ve both seen a lot of life, let’s be friends for as long as we’ve got.” For the next month it was impossible to see one without the other and a stranger would have sworn they were sisters.

            January passed on and a fateful decision was innocently made which darkened the fate of three kind souls.

            The friends were enjoying a warm bouillabaisse at the French Market when Abnoba received her gold-inked birthday invitation from the Lady herself. For the first time, Boufont saw her companion’s countenance fall.

            “Abby my dear”, for Victoria’s middle name was Abigail, “it would be my greatest joy to attend but I am afraid I cannot. My brother Tiber arrives in two days. His birthday is also the 27^th and I always spent it with him. It is terribly important.”

            “Ha! It could not be simpler Abby. If your brother is willing he may come too and he and I will share a birthday.”

            “Oh my sweet friend, if only it could be. But my brother is… he suffered the brain fever as a child and though he has grown to a stately old age he is no more than five in his mind.”

            Victoria was mercifully quick.

            “All the better Abnoba. We shall have cake and iced cream and play games to revive the child in us all. Please bring him, the Mansion has been so dark of late.”

            Gratitude and love shone from Abby’s face and a single tear moistened her cheek as she replied, “We shall be delighted to attend.”

            New Orleans grew younger as The Party approached. Grand Dames twittered like school girls and the whole city became positively silly. Someone even spiked the Bishop’s coffee with whisky before Mass.

No one was more excited though than Tiber Garrett, who had not been invited to a dance, party or luncheon for 62 years. He was pitied by all who met him but loved only by his devoted sister. News of the special attention had filled him with joy and made his afternoon naps quite impossible.

When the glorious day finally arrived, perhaps the first carriage to appear at the iron gates belonged to Abnoba and Tiber. The man-child could be seen through the window, bounding up and down laughing hysterically. No sooner had the front columns come into view than Tiber threw open the door, leapt from the still moving carriage and fairly pounced like a spring-loaded tiger through the rose bushes, obliterating several of them.

By the time Abnoba reached the portico, her brother was sitting on his haunches, sucking an offended thumb and being comforted by the kind-hearted Tangerine.

“Oh Victoria, your poor flowers. I am so…”

“Tut tut Abby. They are nothing. Help me bring Tiber inside and we’ll fix the man with some sweets.”

All things being prepared, the event soon began. It “snowed food and rained drink”[1]as the ancients used to say and all were in fine spirits. After the meal, came Tangerine’s announcement.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, friends and family, I welcome you to my 68^th birthday party. Please allow me to introduce my very special guest, Mr. Tiber Garrett, a true gentleman with the pure heart of a child. He happens to share this anniversary with me and so we shall be celebrating together.

Tonight we will enjoy a hunt, not for deer or fox but for much more unusual game. I have selected a number of objects hidden throughout the house. Before each of you sits a list of clues which will assist you in finding those treasures. The one who, in the space of two hours, discovers the greatest number and returns them to me will be acclaimed King or Queen and afforded all of the pomp and honor due to a monarch. In addition, you will be crowned with this…”

She reached into a velvet lined chest and removed a silver crown. It was neither grand nor covered in jewels but tall and stately, bespeaking understated greatness.

“Use your imagination and your wit,” she continued, “for not all is what it seems.”

Her guests were caught-up in the infectious silliness of the game. Cries of joy could be heard throughout the house as clues were deciphered and puns revealed. “A Flying Lass” was in reality a fly trapped in a crystal inkwell. Whereas “You’d bet your life” answered to the royal flush hand of poker laid-out on a drawing room table.

Unbeknownst to the others, each of the party goers had assisted Tiber Garrett with some clue, assuming that he would be unable to solve them himself. When the bell chimed to mark the end of the game it was found that three people had tied with 13 items. Much to Tiber’s glee, he was among that group with young Julian Fairbairn and Master Gracey himself.

Tangerine addressed the throng, “I am gladdened that you have enjoyed yourselves so. But we simply must have a victor. Therefore, I will set this clever trio on one more quest. See the clue, ‘A Royal Pain’, which no one found. It refers to a purple rose. I will give you one half hour. Go forth to honor and glory my champions!”

George and Julian immediately made for the gardens while Tiber seemed at a loss for direction. After a few moments he trotted off in the direction of the cellars.

Over the course of the evening, many of the searchers had wandered into the vicinity of Madam Leota’s chambers. Some had even ventured to knock on her door. With each interruption the witch had become angrier until finally, when the very enthusiastic rapping of Tiber Garrett echoed through the dungeons, she burst forth with rage, “You shall seek for all eternity and never find your prize! Reynard’s Glove within your hand shall darken both your eyes.”

Just then Tangerine stepped around the corner and called for Tiber to, “come away my dear”.

Leota turned to face the newcomer and screeched at Madame Tangerine, "Thirteen years from today…you…will…die!"

Victoria had never believed in the medium and laughed her to scorn. Tiber however was beside himself with fear and sorrow. He ran for all his might from the dark hall and didn’t stop until he had nowhere else to go, having somehow made his way to the attic.

There he sat down and cried. Poor Tiber had never hurt anyone before and though he didn’t understand Leota’s words they sounded really bad and he knew he was at fault.

After a while he got bored with crying and began to look around. Boxes and chests surrounded him and there in the corner, bless my soul, was the most amazing thing. Tiber knew at once that he had won the game and, grabbing the large object, rushed out of the attic and down to the ballroom.

In his absence the party had gone on. Julian and George despaired of locating the final object and agreed to call the game a draw. Drinking and dancing had begun when Tiber burst into the room yelling, “I’ve won! I’ve won!”

“Tiber my dear”, cooed Victoria, “that is impossible. Mr. Fairbairn and George looked all over the garden and could not find the rose I had dyed purple. [2] It must have been plucked sometime.”

“No Tangerine, I have it! I have it, a purple Rose!”

Thereupon Tiber unveiled the large portrait he had been carrying. Sure enough it bore a plaque inscribed: Rose Cavanaugh 1784-1801 “Missed By All”. Across the front of the painting was a large splash of dark wine, staining the young woman’s face a brilliant shade of lavender.

“Tiber that canvas is of my Aunt Rose. I loved her dearly. And to be sure, she is a most beautiful purple. Everyone! Tiber has won the game.”

Cheers erupted from the crowd, the circlet was placed on his head and King Tiber the First took his place at the head of the table. So great was his joy that Victoria and her closest friends agreed to bring Tiber back every year and no matter the game, he was to win.

The Great Clock of Time slowly ticked by and true to their word, Victoria and company presented Tiber with the silver crown each February 27^th. He never suspected the ruse and they never grew tired of seeing his complete and utter joy. Tiber though had a little secret that even dear Abnoba knew nothing about.

Despite his mental state, Tiber remembered Leota’s words and slowly pieced together that after 13 years Tangerine Boufont would die. Every year, at his first opportunity, he would sneak away from the party and find the evil Madam to beg forgiveness and a lifting of the curse. At first Leota would not even speak to him. She railed at his stupidity and shut the door in his face.

Eventually she began to play with him and offered to lift the doom but only if he accomplished some impossible or unpleasant task. Counting all the windows in the house was typical or bringing her a live rat for her potions. He tried mightily but could never quite fulfill her bidding. Leota would then dismiss him with a, “I’m sorry Tiber, you have failed again. Perhaps next year you can save Tangerine from a terrible death.”

In 1872, for the first time, Tiber Garrett did not want to go to the party. He mumbled and shuffled about. The clothes were too hot and the food would be “icky”. No one but Tiber remembered that this was the thirteenth party.  

Abnoba compelled him to Gracey Manor and was quite surprised when, upon their arrival; he sprung forth and rushed in the door. “Seems he wants to be here after all”, she thought.

The party was the last thing on his mind. He lumbered straight to Leota’s door and pounded on it with all his strength.

“Leoooootaaaaaa! Leooooootaaaaaaa!”

The door creaked open and for the first time Tiber entered the mysterious room.

“Yes Tiber. You wanted something?”

“Madam Leota, please please don’t hurt Tangerine. She my friend. I sorry for make you mad.’

“Tiber, you have begged me for these 13 years now. I have never seen such devotion before.” Her hooded eyes could not belie the wicked smile on her lips. “I think I shall give you something to end this curse.”

“Really, you help Tiber? Thank you thank you”

“Yes, I shall finish this tonight.” Leota took down a small dark bottle from her shelf and gently handed it to the excited man. “Pour this into Tangerine’s drink tonight and she will have peace in her heart forever. But mark my words, no one must know what you have done or the magic will not work.”

“Oh Leota, you good. You kind. I love you.”

For half a second the witch seemed to be stunned. Never had those words been spoken to her, even in jest. Almost she repented of the plot but her thirst for wickedness knew no bounds.

“Hurry Tiber, before I change my mind.”

He left the dungeon brimming with happiness. Finally the spell would be broken and Tangerine would be safe. As Tiber trotted through the halls he began to think, “Leota said it would give her peace. Maybe it would make me happy too?”

He crept into the ballroom and seized a pair of wine glasses. Quickly he poured half the bottle into each and spoke loudly, “I toast Tangerine! She good lady. I love her.” Lady Boufont arose, glided to the side board and took a glass from his proffered hand.

“Tiber, you are good man. I love you too.”

Together they drained the flutes and returned to the party.

By midnight the birthday pair was dead. Tangerine quietly in her sleep and Tiber in a dramatic spasm while on the road to New Orleans. The cause of death was ruled old age and heart attack respectively. Leota’s curses had proven true.

Victoria’s ghost continued to celebrate birthdays, chiefly as a means of irritating Leota. In her defiance she could thumb her nose at the powerful spiritualist. Tiber’s spirit eventually found its way back to the Mansion where he could relive the scenes of his greatest triumph forever.