Bloody Lessons (9 page)

“Yes, do. I don’t know who it could be at this hour.” Annie retreated with Laura a bit further back down the hall.

Nate undid the bolt and opened the door on a man, a stranger to Annie. He looked to be in his fifties with a small gray mustache. He was neatly dressed in a subdued brown wool suit, but his cheeks were red, and he was clearly out of breath. He immediately took off his derby when he saw there were ladies present and bobbed his head politely, saying, “Please sir, ladies. I am sorry t’bother you, but it’s a matter of some urgency. Is there a Miss Laura Dawson residing here? My name is McNaughton, and I have a message for her.”

Nate looked back at Laura. When she shook her head in bewilderment, he turned to the man and said, “Sir, I’m Miss Dawson’s brother. You may convey your message to me.”

“Yes, sir, I understand. It is Miss Hattie Wilks, sir, that boards with me and the missus. We’ve never had such a thing happen, respectable house we run. Miss Hattie fell some time this evening, dunno when. It were something terrible to see her all broken on the landing, blood everywhere. Hector, my son, got a cab, and he and my missus took her off to St. Mary’s. But before they left, the lassie roused a little. She grabbed my hand and told me to get a message to Miss Laura Dawson at Mrs. Fuller’s boarding house on O’Farrell Street. The local copper directed me here. Now, sir, I think if your sister wants to see her, she’d best come straight away. I saw too much death in the war, and the poor girl had that look they get, you know. When they are about to meet their maker.”

Chapter Eleven

Later Wednesday evening, January 14, 1880

"The new chapel on First Street, in the rear of St. Mary's Hospital, erected by the Sisters of Mercy connected with the Hospital, was dedicated at 3 o'clock yesterday afternoon." ––
San Francisco Hospital
, 1879

Hattie looked so small lying on the hospital bed. And so pale. Laura leaned over and stroked her cheek, cold and smooth as marble.

“Sister, shouldn’t she have more blankets?” Laura looked at the Sister of Mercy who stood quietly in the corner, wimple and collar glowing white against the black garments that could be barely distinguished from the dark shadows at the edges of the room.

“I am sorry, Miss. The attending physician said that because of her broken bones, we should limit the weight of her coverings in order to lessen her pain,” the Sister replied quietly, her hands folded into the wide sleeves of her habit.

Laura had noticed the splint on Hattie’s right arm when she first came into the room, but now she saw that the contours of the light blanket laying over her suggested there was some sort of splint over both of her legs. She sat down, pulling the chair closer so she could take Hattie’s left hand in her own, rubbing it to try to create some warmth. She had been forced to leave Nate and Annie in the hallway, the sister insisting that only one person could be in the room with the patient at a time.

“Poor darling,” she whispered. “You took a bad tumble, but the good doctors have patched you up.” Hattie didn’t open her eyes, and Laura saw that every breath her friend took was slow and labored.

A cry rent the silence from somewhere down the hall, and Laura glanced towards the door, seeing the swift passage of another nun, black veil and skirts making a soft swishing noise. She shivered. She’d never been in a hospital before, and every story she’d read about them as houses of death came flooding back. She barely remembered the ride across the city, but from the moment that Nate and Annie led her through the front doors of the imposing St. Mary’s Hospital, she had felt oppressed.

The rows of gas fixtures throughout the building vestibule and corridors filled the air with their distinctive odor and soft hiss yet failed to illuminate the high ceilings or the three flights of wide stairs they trudged up to reach Hattie’s floor. The sister had escorted them down a corridor that seemed to stretch for miles. They passed room after room, where Laura caught glimpses of other black-robed nuns leaning over beds, doing goodness knows what. And the smells. Even in this room, the familiar odor of gas lighting, mixed with a strong astringent scent, failed to mask a smell more associated with butcher shops. Laura felt in the grip of some gothic nightmare as she listened to the sound of Hattie’s breathing in counterpoint to the click, click, click of the sister’s rosary.

Hattie moaned, and her eyes fluttered open and then shut.

Laura leaned closer, squeezing her friend’s hand, and whispered, “Hattie dear, it’s me, Laura. How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you?”

Hattie continued to breathe slowly and with increased difficulty.

Laura turned and said, “Sister, what is wrong? Why isn’t she conscious?” She pointed to a small brown glass bottle sitting on the bedside table. “Has she been given some medicine for pain; is that why she doesn’t wake up?” Laura recalled the deep sleepiness she’d felt when her mother gave her laudanum the time she broke her arm, but she didn’t remember having any difficulty breathing.

When the sister didn’t respond, the words of McNaughton, the boarding house owner, crept into her head. She said more sharply, “Sister, please answer me. She’s going to be all right
, isn’t she? There isn’t anything wrong besides the broken bones, is there? The man who found her told us there was blood. Did she cut herself?” She reached over and ran her hand over Hattie’s hair, searching for a sign of a bandage, vaguely remembering that scalp wounds bled freely. Finding nothing, she went back to stroking Hattie’s cheek, saying through her tears, “Dearest, can you hear me? I am right beside you. I won’t let anything happen to you. But can’t you give me a sign? Let me know you are all right.”

The sister stepped forward and put her hand on Laura’s shoulder in a calming gesture. “Miss,
Miss, you will frighten her. She needs peace now. Be comforted. Your friend is in God’s hands, and He will not forsake her.”

*****

“
Nate, I wish we could be in there with her. Do you think that man was correct, that Laura’s friend is dying?” Annie paced in a tight circle. They stood in a little alcove two doors down from Hattie’s room, where the Sister of Mercy had directed them. The alcove had a painted and gilded plaster Madonna and Child in a niche high up on the wall and a hard wooden bench that looked like it was designed more for penance than comfort. Nate gathered her into his arms, and for a brief moment she felt calm.

“Let’s give Laura some time with Hattie.” Nate pulled out his pocket watch to check the time, keeping his other arm around Annie. “If she doesn’t come out in the next fifteen minutes, I will go and poke my head in. See what’s going on.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, but she found her growing anxiety impossible to ignore. She pulled away and moved out into the hall, looking up and down the long corridor, saying, “I just remembered. Mrs. O’Malley, Tilly’s aunt and Biddy’s mother, works at St. Mary’s. I wonder if she is here now?”

Biddy O’Malley was a good friend of Annie’s maid Kathleen, and she had recommended her fresh-off-the boat cousin Tilly to help out last fall when Kathleen spent so much time helping Annie on her investigations into a couple of fraudulent mediums. Annie had kept Tilly on when the investigation was over, and both Beatrice and Kathleen were determined to turn the shy
Colleen into a first rate domestic.

“Would Mrs. O’Malley be working at this time of night? Doesn’t she need to be home with her children?” Nate said.

“Maybe. But no. Wednesday nights, Tilly needs to be home by four to take care of the little ones. Biddy’s factory job doesn’t let out until six, and her mother’s shift starts at five. Let’s ask one of the sisters if Mrs. O’Malley is working nearby.” Annie began to walk down the hall towards the two Sisters of Mercy who were standing at the large windows at the end of the corridor.

She felt a tug at her shoulder and heard Nate say, “Annie, wait a minute. By all means, let’s ask if we can speak to a doctor, find out more about Miss
Wilks’ condition. But I don’t see why you want to get Mrs. O’Malley involved.”

“Have you ever tried to get a doctor to reveal anything definite about a patient? Back in New York, one of the ways I kept a roof over my head was to volunteer to sit at the bedsides of any of my in-laws who were ill. I can tell you it made me furious to see the way the attending doctors answered every question with medical twaddle and polite hemming and hawing that conveyed nothing. Anyone with eyes in their heads could tell when a patient was in a bad way, but the doctor always pretended all was well
, until it wasn’t. Then it was anybody else’s fault but their own. And you heard the sister who brought us here. We should put our faith in God. I doubt very much if either the doctors or the sisters will give us any details, at least not to someone who isn’t a relative.”

“But what can Mrs. O’Malley tell us?”

“I don’t know. But we can at least ask her if she has heard anything about Hattie, and I bet she will know which doctor is the most competent, so we can make sure she is getting the best care.”

When Annie asked the two sisters if Mrs. O’Malley was working nearby, they told her that she was just up the corridor that connected the three wings of the hospital. Annie, motioning to Nate to follow her, went quickly past the nuns and turned the corner. There, as promised, was a woman scrubbing at a spot on the tiled wall. She was dressed in dark gray, with a white apron that went almost down to the bottom of her skirt, and a bucket of soapy water sat at her feet. She straightened and turned as Annie approached, letting the sponge drop into the bucket. The white cap, which completely covered her hair, framed a thin, tired, and lined face. But when Annie reached out her hand, introducing
herself, Mrs. O’Malley’s blue eyes sparkled, and she broke into a wide grin as she wiped her hands on her apron so she could enthusiastically pump Annie’s hand.

“Glory be, Mrs. Fuller, I’m ever so glad to meet you and thank you for all you’ve done for our Tilly. When she arrived at our doorstep this summer
, we couldn’t get two words out of her, scared little thing. Never been off her da’s farm back in Ireland; mucking out the pigs and baby tending’s all she knew. But now when she comes home from your place, she’s chattering about the proper way to set a table, how she ironed her first shirt, and she amuses the children with her stories about tricks the little dog is up to. It’s a marvel the change you’ve made in the girl.”

Annie smiled and said, “Don’t thank me. It’s Mrs. O’Rourke, my cook and housekeeper, and Kathleen Hennessey you should thank. They have taken her under their wings. But your niece is a fine girl, and you should be proud of her.”

Having come up behind Annie, Nate bowed and shook Mrs. O’Malley’s hand, introducing himself.

“Oh, Mrs. Fuller, I was that surprised to see you I didn’t ask
. Is it one of your friends or family that’s brought you here?” Mrs. O’Malley asked.

“A young friend of Mr. Dawson’s sister was brought into St. Mary’s this evening after a bad fall,” Annie replied. “A Miss Hattie
Wilks. She is in a private room down the next hallway. I believe the room number is twelve. We haven’t been able to find out anything about her condition and wondered if you might have heard anything?”

“Oh, my. Room
Twelve, you say? The poor girl with all the broken bones?”

“Yes, yes, that is
her. She evidently fell down some steps at her boarding house earlier this evening. What have you heard?” Annie asked, frightened by the way that Mrs. O’Malley was wringing her hands.

The older woman came closer and said quietly, “Mrs. Fuller, would you mind if we stepped away and spoke privately
? I am not sure I feel comfortable talking in front of the gentleman, you understand.”

Annie didn’t understand but nodded in agreement anyway. Holding up her hand to Nate to indicate he should stay put, she walked with Mrs. O’Malley a little way further down the hallway.

Looking up and down the hall to make sure there wasn’t anyone else to overhear, Mrs. O’Malley whispered, “The good sisters don’t think she’ll make it through the night. God rest her soul. The poor thing lost so much blood even before she got here, you see, and the sisters haven’t been able to stop the flow. Just terrible. And her little babe didn’t stand a chance.”

*****

Laura’s head throbbed, and she realized she had been breathing in the same halting, shallow rhythm as Hattie. She inhaled deeply as if this would fill her friend’s lungs, and she said again, “Hattie. What can I do? I’m here. I won’t leave you. I promise.”

Hattie’s hand twitched in her own, then grabbed hold tightly. Her friend’s eyes were now wide open
, and her lips were moving silently. Leaning so close she could feel a faint stir of breath on her own cheek, she pleaded, “Hattie, what is it? Tell me. Do you need some water?”

As she began to pull away to reach for the glass on the bedside table, Hattie rasped out, “No…Laura. No…time. Sorry…never meant to…must tell….”

“Tell me what? Hattie, never say you’re sorry. It’s me who should apologize for being such a cross patch about your plans. We are going to get you well, and then you will have a beautiful wedding, and everything is going to be wonderful.”

Hattie shook her head sharply side-to-side and struggled out a few more words. “Accident…No…not…tell Andrew…I didn’t…”

“Oh, Hattie, don’t fret. Of course it was an accident. No one blames you. I am sure he will come as soon as he hears what happened. You can tell him yourself.”

Hattie grimaced and tugged on Laura’s hand weakly, her eyes again shutting and her chest heaving. Laura stroked her hair with trembling hands, saying, “Hattie don’t try to talk; you are too weak.”

“Miss, let her speak,” the sister said quietly, startling Laura, who had forgotten she was there. “She needs to unburden herself before she meets our Lord. It will bring her peace.”

“Don’t you dare say
that. She’s going to be fine. She just needs to rest and heal. If you want to help, go get a doctor. She needs medical attention, not prayer.”

When she turned back to Hattie
, she could see that her lips were tinged with blue. Panicking, she slid her arms under her friend’s shoulders, cradling her to her chest, saying, “Hattie, my love. Don’t go. Don’t leave me.”

She felt Hattie stir in her arms and heard her say in the thinnest of whispers, “Tell him…not his fault…tell him…he needs to know…pushed…pushed…” Then she exhaled in a long sigh and breathed no more.