Authors: Leen Elle
"If you're going to be coming back again, could you at least bring me a little food from outside this place? I'm going to end up starving myself if I don't start eating again."
"Why in the world are you asking for favors right now? You should know that I'm not in the mood to be bringing you gifts! Especially when you're always so demanding about it and never show your gratitude as you ought!"
"I might have said thank you if you'd do it! How do you know I haven't changed?"
"Believe me, this conversation is enough to assure me of that!"
"You've only caught me on a bad day! You should have seen that shot they had to stick in my arm!"
"I did see it!"
"No, but you should have seen it when they were putting in! They had to hold me down so I wouldn't jump up and sock ol' Carolyn right in the face! It's not my fault I'm angry at the moment! It's theirs! If they hadn't put me through such pain I might not be so upset!"
"It's not their fault! It's just . . . It's fate! It's not their fault your sick! And if you're trying to suggest that if I'd shown up yesterday and they weren't sticking foot long needles into your arm, you wouldn't be so rude,
then
you're terribly mistaken to think I should believe it! Before they even started you were yelling at them! And I heard some doctors talking out in the hall too. They said 'that West boy' is always causing a ruckus and that you ought to be locked up because you're always screaming so much and bothering the other patients!"
"Never trust the opinion of doctors! They're all a bunch of lunatics, you know! They're the ones who ought to be locked up!"
"They're the only ones who can help you!"
"No one can help me! Like you said,
it's
fate. You're destined to be happy and I'm destined to be lying in this sickbed all my life!"
"Oh!" Gail fumed, stomping her foot, "How can you really believe that? Don't you have any hope? Life's not all determined by fate, you know, it's also influenced by the efforts of people to make a better life for
themselves
!"
"I'd be a fool to believe such nonsense!"
"I can't believe I was ever worried about you! After you left, or after they carried you out rather, I was a mess, you know! I couldn't sleep and I couldn't think and I . . . I was really scared you were going to die. I didn't want to let you leave alone, but I can see now that my presence was of no importance! I've spent the last few weeks wringing my hands and biting my lip and wondering if you were alright! And now, it seems as if it was all for nothing! You don't even appreciate it!"
"I never said that!"
"You might as well have!"
"I'm honored that you should spend your goddam precious moments thinking of me! Don't simply assume that I don't appreciate it! Because I do!" his voice broke, "I do, for Christ's sake!"
Gail didn't quite know what to say. She let her eyes drop down to the floor, lowering her shield, and brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. Spotting a wooden chair that had escaped her eye on first
observation,
Gail pushed it over beside Nathaniel's bed and sat down, pulling her feet up and sitting Indian-style.
With a sigh, she finally questioned, "What sort of place is this anyway? They don't even have a game of Chinese checkers, do they?"
Nathaniel shook his head, "It's a pity."
"How long are the visiting hours? It's nearly nine o'clock and I'm surprised they haven't already asked me to leave."
"Oh they'll let you stay as long as I want you to. They wouldn't dare go against my orders."
Gail raised an eyebrow, "You act as though you're the king of this place or something."
"I might as well be. Nearly everyone does what I ask them to. My parents sent over enough money to keep them all good and happy. The only thing they won't bring me is some edible food. It's ridiculous! You'd think they'd have a little compassion after seeing how serious I am about it! I can't force that slop down my throat. It's impossible!"
"I'll try and look around town for something tomorrow morning, if I can. What exactly do you want?"
"I don't care. I really don't. Anything has to be better than this. But some bread would be nice.
Warm, sourdough bread.
Or roast beef!
Just a few slices with some provolone cheese.
Mmm . . . Just thinking about it makes my mouth water."
Gail smiled, "I'll see what I can do . . ." she paused before questioning slowly, "Do you really hate the nurses here?"
"With all my heart and soul."
"You're despicable."
"I know it."
"How long were you in St. Francis County?"
"Only about two weeks or so, I think."
"And did you like it any better?"
"Well the nurses were younger there."
"Nathaniel!"
"And the town wasn't quite so glum. But I couldn't even think of trusting anything the doctors said."
"I've never seen you trust a doctor in my life!"
"Yes, but these men . . . They really were a bit loony. I suppose they did help a little with getting me back to consciousness and all that."
Gail's eyes widened, "Getting you back to consciousness?"
"Well sure. I can barely remember the week before I arrived at St. Francis County or the first week I spent there. I wasn't unconscious, no, but I couldn't talk and I couldn't move and I kept having all these weird hallucinations. I really didn't know where I was for most of it until they told me later on. I didn't even remember lying in my bedroom aboard the ship with you. I just kept having all these weird images of ravens flying around my head. The nurses practically fainted when I told them that. It's a bad omen, or something of the sort, to see ravens."
"I did read you the poem 'The Raven' on that last day."
"Makes sense."
"How funny . . ."
"And then after I arrived I just kept waking up at odd moments to see big dark figures and little white women standing over with me with tools in their hands.
Scared me half to death.
And they had me strapped down to the table so I wouldn't move. It was like a nightmare except it wasn't. All I saw was doctors and nurses and their shiny metal instruments and the swinging light bulb hanging from the ceiling. I had surgery, you know, though I've got no idea what they did to me. Something with my colon, I think.
Or perhaps my liver.
Didn't help too much though."
"I didn't know you had surgery! Was it terrible?"
"I honestly don't know. I can barely remember any of it. But I've got a big red scar on my stomach now," he pushed back his blankets and lifted up his nightshirt a bit, very slowly, as always, and revealed to her a lengthy scar, nearly eight inches long, that was still dotted with blood. His stomach was horribly, hideously thin and white. But it barely even caught the eye when one saw his ribs, each one visibly poking through his sallow skin.
Gail gulped, "Looks awful."
"It's not so bad really. Only hurts when I swallow."
"Have you had much to keep you occupied here?"
"Not a lot. But the newspapers are new at least, and if I ask, they'll bring me books from the library sometimes. And I've got a deck of cards to play solitaire with."
"Tomorrow I'll try and find something else to bring you. A game or something, I don't know."
"You look awfully tired already."
Gail yawned, "Well I've been up since dawn. And that carriage ride nearly rocked me to sleep."
"You should probably go find somewhere to stay. I wouldn't want to be roaming around a town like this in the dead of the night. And you should probably get some sleep."
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay a little longer?"
"I'm not a child, Gail. You needn't worry about me."
"Well, I promise I'll be back tomorrow."
"And remember to bring some real food."
"Of course."
And with that, she said goodbye, left the room, assured the nurses that she wasn't afraid of Nathaniel and that she'd be back tomorrow, and headed out into the cold, dark night with her trunk at hand to find somewhere to stay for the night.
Although only a little more than a week had passed since the departure of Brook, Emy, and Gail, the period felt much longer to Sara. In Brighton, though surrounded by her two remaining sisters and the merry and eager Lindsey family, Sara seemed unusually lonely and spent her days wallowing in despair.
To state the name that most often occupied the poor girl's thoughts seems rather silly when such a statement should be more than obvious to all.
Nora, caught so often thinking of her own sailor, was of no consolation.
When together, the two sisters were even more miserable than before.
They tried to divert themselves with games or conversation or various household tasks, but no matter how hard they may try and how earnestly they went about the day's activities, their minds always returned to the sea.
Mary, prancing about the house with Ethan at her side and a smile upon her face, attempted to brighten her sisters' spirits but to no avail.
They tried to be pleasant and cheerful, for her sake, but could never truly convince her of their felicity. She knew of their sadness, even when they struggled so desperately to conceal it.
But Mary could not be downcast about their condition for long. There was always some feature of the wedding to discuss and contemplate and finalize. For most of the month, she and Betsy, often aided by her sisters, set to work on the dress. They went into town to buy the fabric and lace, laid everything out on the kitchen floor to cut the pattern, and began to sew the seams with a careful hand and neat, miniscule stitches. Such an enormous task directed the majority of their time. While John and Ethan worked hard hammering nails and chopping up wood and building the house Ethan and Mary were to live in, Betsy and Mary sat by the fire gossiping with their needles at hand.
To pull Mary away from such gaiety would have been sinful, Sara thought, so she bore her misery alone.
Often she found herself wishing sweet Emy and lively Gail had not left her, but it was a selfish desire that she dared not dwell on. Emy, whose complacency and patience could be matched by no one, deserved a holiday free of somber sisters and the overly earnest bride-to-be. And Gail, whose sadness and worriment surpassed Sara's own weeks before, most certainly deserved to see Nathaniel and assure herself of his good health. And, in turn, Nathaniel deserved to welcome such a concerned girl into his hospital room and free himself of loony doctors and fretful nurses, if only for a moment. She was the only person he'd ever met, including members of his own family, who he believed truly cared for him and would be sorry if he were to die. Sara felt terribly guilty for wishing them home again and dreaming they might drag themselves away from exciting fairs and ailing invalids, but she couldn't help it. Only their letters, which arrived exceedingly often, could console her.