Authors: Noelle Carle
“I’m feeling poorly,
Miz Hudson” he mumbled. “Musta caught something going to town yesterday.” His
eyelids drifted shut.
“Mr. Moore? Riley?
You might breathe easier if you sit up a little.” Ruth knelt down to help
raise him up, but he was dead weight in her arms. Then she saw the trickle of
blood oozing down from his ear.
She pulled back and
swallowed hard as she gazed at it. I must get the doctor, she thought; then
one thought after another slammed into her heart as she realized she couldn’t
leave the children, she had no wagon, and her sister wasn’t around to go
either. Settling the covers back over Riley, she grimly acknowledged that now
she was mad.
The town was nearly
six miles away. The oxen could pull the sledge, but that would be slower
almost than walking. Stephen was the oldest boy with them, but he was not the
fastest or the most reliable. She would wake up Jacob and have him run into
town for the doctor.
As she laid her hand
on the banister, Ruth stopped for a moment to pray for both Riley and her
wayward sister, and added a little plea for herself, that she’d get through
this day that was starting out so badly.
Moving quickly up the
stairs, she began to hear noises that made her heart start to pound. Someone
was coughing and someone else was crying, a whiny, weak cry that Ruth
recognized as Paulo, an eight year old Italian boy. Paulo was small for his
age and seemed not to have grown in the two years he’d been with them. Of the
eleven boys they cared for now, Paulo concerned her most. She rushed through
the door of one of the bedrooms with her lamp held aloft. Some of the boys
still slept, but Jacob was sitting up coughing and in the bed beside him Paulo
lay crying.
“Jacob, what’s
wrong?” she whispered to the thin fourteen year old.
“Can’t stop
coughing,” he gasped. “Can’t get any breath.”
Ruth laid her hand on
his forehead and found him hot but dry to the touch. She felt Paulo’s head and
found he too was feverish.
“Paulo, sweetie, what
is it?” she murmured to the boy as she stroked his forehead. He cried harder
as he moved restlessly.
“My head won’t stop
hurting. Someone keeps hitting. Make them stop, Mrs. Hudson. Make it stop!”
His rising cry woke some of the other boys who stirred and began whispering.
Ruth went to each of
the six beds that held the older boys. Besides Jacob and Paulo, two others
were feverish or seemed to feel unwell. Ruth hurried out to the hallway where
there was a closet full of linens. She grabbed several wash cloths and took
them back to the room. She wet them and laid the cool cloths on each of the
sick boys, murmuring quietly to each one, promising to bring them some cool
water and especially urging Paulo to lay back and try to stop crying. The
twins, Michael and Mitchell each accepted the cloth on their forehead without a
word, but Ruth could read in their heavy eyes that neither felt well at all.
Not given to panic,
Ruth stood and looked about her. These were the four boys who had gone
yesterday with Riley into town. He told her that he’d gotten them all a treat
of ice cream while they were there. It must have been bad ice cream, she
thought, that they’d all be sick from it. But she was dismayed when she
checked on the little boys’ room to realize that the baby Johnnie and little
Marcus were both fevered and sick also.
Sixteen year old
Stephen was up now and pulling on a robe over his nightshirt. Ruth shook her
head at him. “Get dressed right now, Stevie. You’re going to have to run into
Vay and find Dr. Cobb. The horse and buggy aren’t here. Miss Naomi has them.”
He looked at her
blankly. “Well, maybe she’s gone to get the doctor. We still got the oxen,
don’t we?”
Ruth sighed. Stephen
tended toward laziness although he was obedient and good-hearted. “No, she
went somewhere else. The oxen are too slow, so you’ll have to go as fast as
ever you can. You understand? I need the doctor quickly.”
“You mean run?”
Stephen’s voice squeaked as he questioned her.
“Yes, run, Stephen.”
She left the room, pulling a sleepy redheaded boy behind her. “You think you
can cook the oatmeal for me, Donnie, while I tend to the babies?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he
yawned. “Miss Naomi lets me do it almost every day. But isn’t it too early?”
His eyes were heavy and he leaned against her.
“A little bit, but
Stevie will need something to eat before he goes to town. We’ll make some
coffee, too, a little bit later.”
Inside her, as she
spoke calmly to Donnie, a prayer was unraveling from her pounding heart that
consisted of three words, “Help us, God, help us God,” over and over.
For years afterward,
Ruth would look back on this day as the day when God showed himself strong on
her behalf. She would face other struggles, she would know times of fear and
discouragement, but on that day, she knew beyond any doubt that God was walking
with her.
First, calmness
descended on her heart that helped her to put everything unnecessary out of her
mind. She stopped worrying about Naomi; she got Stevie fed and sent on his way
and she tended to the sick while she waited for the doctor.
Her first priority
was to get them all together in one place. In the dim but growing light of
morning, she gently woke those who were still sleeping and moved them out of
their beds. She brought the babies’ cribs right into the bigger boys’ room and
thanked God that they stayed relatively calm while she did so.
The sick boys huddled
in their beds, shivering despite their fevers. Ruth prepared one of the empty
beds for Riley, instructed all the well boys to get dressed and go down into
the kitchen, and then took a few moments to get dressed. As she splashed her
face with the cold water in her basin, she decided that, for once, she wasn’t
going to wear her corset. She simply pulled on her chemise and stockings, a
petticoat over those, followed by a blouse, skirt and her apron. She took a
glad deep breath and smiled at the freedom she felt without the heavy tight
garment underneath everything. She almost skipped down the stairs.
The sleepy boys had
gathered in the kitchen around the table where she found Donnie already dishing
up their oatmeal. “Good, Donnie. Now who will slice the bread so I can make
some toast? Big Jon, will you go into the pantry and bring out a few apples
and slice them up to go on the oatmeal?”
Everyone was
compliant and uncomplaining as she explained that Miss Naomi was away this
morning and Mr. Moore was ill along with the others. “I want you to consult
the chart for your morning chores; then go into the school room and begin your
studies for the morning. Since Miss Naomi is away, I expect that you will do
your reading on your own and as much of your work as you can without my
supervision.”
The boys began doing
as she asked while she checked on Riley. “I don’t think I can lift you,” she
murmured as she thought about trying to move him up to the room with the sick
boys. She was carrying a cool cloth to lay on his forehead and approached his
bed. His breathing had quieted and she felt a frisson of alarm until she saw
that he was indeed still breathing. She laid the cloth over his forehead and
tiptoed back out. Perhaps it was just a short-lived illness and he was going
to be up in a few hours.
Ruth calculated how
long it might take Stephen to run to Vay and then added time to it, knowing his
propensity for comfort. But she reckoned without his sensitivity and was
happily surprised when she heard a wagon pulling up the road two hours later.
As she hurried outside, she was confused to see her own horse and buggy, driven
by Dr. Cobb, and a grinning Stephen beside him. Tied to the back was the
doctor’s horse.
“Doctor, how did…what
are you…” She had trouble framing her question, but took one look at his grim
face as he climbed down.
He pointed with his
thumb into the back of the wagon. “Your sister,” he said shortly.
Naomi lay on a
makeshift bed, wrapped in a quilt, obviously ill. Ruth was so relieved to see
her that she started to climb up onto the wagon. Dr. Cobb’s hand on her arm
restrained her.
“I wouldn’t get near
her,” he said. “The whole town is quarantined.”
“That’s ridiculous,
Doctor. I’m the only one who can care for these children, and her.” Ruth
climbed onto the wagon and gazed at her sister. More pale than usual, yet with
bright spots on her cheeks, she rolled her eyes and her brow was hot under
Ruth’s cool hand. “How did you find her?” Ruth questioned.
“She came in the
middle of the night and tried to take the train but they stopped her at the
station. This influenza is spreading out from the cities and travel is
restricted everywhere. She wandered around for a while I guess, then I found
her on my doorstep early this morning, just before your boy Stevie showed up.”
As he spoke, he moved
Naomi to the edge of the wagon, then lifted her in his powerful arms and headed
for the house. Over his shoulder he said, “I suspect your kids and Riley have
the same thing. It’s spreading fast and hitting hard.”
“What can we do?” she
questioned, hurrying behind him.
“Keep the other kids
apart; keep the sick ones warm and comfortable. I’ve brought a supply of
aspirin if they are having pain, but there’s not a whole lot we can do. People
are trying all sorts of ignorant cures but it’s all in the hand of God.” The
doctor sounded angry as he proceeded up the stairs with Naomi bouncing in his
arms. He stopped at the top and asked, “Where do you want her?”
Ruth pointed to the
sick room, and watched him lay her gently on the bed she’d prepared for Riley.
He then went from bed to bed, lifting eyelids and checking ears, laying his big
hand on their foreheads. She followed him downstairs and showed him into
Riley’s room. Before he entered he turned back to her. “I can’t stay, Mrs.
Hudson. I’m sorry that I haven’t more help for you. I know I’m leaving you
with the burden of their care, but the whole town seems to have come down with
this illness.”
Dr. Cobb was Tom’s
age, but looked older. He had black hair peppered with gray streaks, a long
moustache that he sometimes curled with wax, and usually vibrant blue eyes that
relayed a sense of intelligence and compassion. He was strong and sometimes
jolly, but not this day. She noted the dark skin like bruises under his eyes,
and his shoulders drooped with weariness.
“It’s all right,
Doctor. We’ll manage,” Ruth told him. Somehow she knew they would. The
hammering of her heart had calmed and she sensed a presence with her that had
nothing to do with the doctor.
The Hour of Deliverance
Mary Reid was
recovering. She knew she would get better the day she could actually lift her
head without getting dizzy. Compared to what she’d seen in this sick room, she
had not suffered much. When she could start keeping her eyes open, she watched
Dr. Granger as he worked among them. His manner was always kind and gentle.
His concern for each patient was genuine, yet he had an air of distraction, as
if he were puzzling over something. One night she heard him weeping in the
room across the hall and she knew that his two younger sons had died. What a
terrible, terrible plague had swept over them.
One day she was well
enough to sit up out on the porch. He joined her for a few moments. He sat in
a rocker and leaned his head back. He had lost weight and acquired more gray
in her dark hair in the past few weeks. He closed his eyes.
“Doctor?” She didn’t
know if he might have fallen asleep that quickly.
“Dan,” he replied,
opening one eye to squint at her.
Mary smiled. “Dan.
I want you to know how glad I am to be alive.”
A slow smile spread
across Dan’s face. “Me too,” he answered.
“I mean it. You
saved my life and the lives of so many here. If it weren’t for you and your
family, many of us would not have made it.”
His smile faded. “Many
did not make it. Mary, the papers are reporting a staggering number of
fatalities in just this country. I’ve never seen such a thing. So many
different symptoms. So many sudden deaths. My Owen…in the morning joking with
his brother, dead by nightfall. I’ve never…” His voice grew husky and he
stopped speaking.
Mary reached over and
took his hand. He grasped onto hers, holding it tightly and cleared his
throat.
“So many gone,” he
murmured. “The young strong ones too. Usually the elderly and babies are most
at risk. I wish I had time to research it more.”
He continued on about
advances in medicine that he’d read about; how things had changed so much in
the last thirty years. He seemed oblivious to the fact that he was still
holding her hand, but Mary was not. She closed her eyes and listened, a
comfortable smile on her face.