Painted Vessels

by Gina Renee Freitag

  “Dr. Keeler,” Marcus said, holding out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Pastor Duncan.”

  “Good afternoon,” the doctor said, shaking his hand. “This is my wife Elizabeth.”

  Marcus tipped his head and touched the rim of his hat. “Shall we collect your luggage? If we hurry, we should stay ahead of the rain,” he observed. “Eli sends his apologies. He would have been here to meet you, but something came up.”

  Once on the road, Marcus asked what the standard itinerary was for this type of visit. It was Friday afternoon, and the Keelers would be leaving Monday morning. He wanted to ensure that their quick visit ran as smoothly as possible.

  “Tomorrow,” Dr. Keeler began, “I’ll visit the Martins and examine Angel to determine what his surgical needs and follow-up care will be. That should give me an idea of how much the church should raise to help off-set their medical expenses. On Sunday, I’ll talk to your congregation about my ministry, and Angel’s situation in particular. I should only need about forty minutes. To be honest, though, Eli’s donation negates any need for the Martin family to raise funds.”

  “Ah, yes…” Marcus said. “Eli asked me to discuss that with you before we get to East Haven. He was impressed by something you mentioned in Clearwater. You noted how much a community benefits when it works together to help a child in need. He didn’t want to take away that opportunity. He offered to cover the remaining cost of Angel’s surgery after we’ve had a chance to come together and help. However, he insists that this information not be made known to anyone.”

  “I see,” the doctor said. “Does he think the town won’t contribute as much if they know the cost will be covered, regardless of what they give?”

  “No,” Marcus said. “That isn’t the issue. Dr. Keeler, you need to understand something. Eli is a very private person, especially when it comes to his finances. There are only two men in East Haven who know how well-off he is, and he wants to make sure it stays that way. In other words, he has asked that you not make his involvement known beyond the fact that he introduced you to the Martins.”

  “Okay, I can do that,” the doctor agreed. “To be honest, it will be refreshing to work with someone who doesn’t boast about their donation. Most of my larger contributors tend to be prideful about their wealth.”

  Marcus glanced at Dr. Keeler and shook his head. “Oh, I’m not saying Eli doesn’t struggle with pride,” he explained. “I know he does. His struggle just looks different from most men in his situation. Eli’s pride lies somewhere in his humility, and I think there will come a day when he will have to wrestle with it and take control before he can reach his full potential.”

  Dr. Keeler nodded at his words, and the three of them sat in thoughtful silence. Once they arrived in town, they would pick up Grace and head to the Gardners’ home to enjoy a casual supper. As the carriage rolled forward, the sun moved lower in the sky, and thankfully, the weather remained dry.

  ELI

  During his examination, Angel sat in the reassuring comfort of his mother’s arms. While the Martins answered Dr. Keeler’s questions, Eli leaned against the wall on the other side of their living room. He watched Nathan peer inside Angel’s mouth and thought about their conversation during supper the previous evening.

  When the Duncans and the Keelers arrived on Friday, Eli and Isaac were finishing up the repair on Mrs. Russell’s roof. Marcus waved to Eli as they rode by. He returned the greeting and quickly gathered his tools. Asking Mrs. Russell to forgive him for not staying longer, he darted over to his house to meet his guests. He entered the back door, came through the kitchen and dining room, and joined Ada at the front door. She was already ushering the two couples in.

  “Dr. Keeler, welcome,” he said with a grin, grasping the doctor’s hand and giving it an eager shake. “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you at the station. How was your journey?” Eli noticed his dirty hands and wiped them on his work coat. “Sorry,” he said.

  Dr. Keeler waved away his apology. “The journey was comfortable, but please no titles, Eli. Tonight, I’m your guest.”

  “All right, Nathan,” he replied. “Let me show you to your room before I wash up for supper.” He led the couple to the same back room that the Webers had stayed in a year ago. Since that time, the Gardners had returned Evelyn’s bed and furnished their guest room with a quaint bedroom set.

  Once cleaned up, Eli joined his guests in the dining room. The women were in the kitchen finishing up the supper preparations while the men visited. Eli was relieved to see that Nathan had also dressed casually, with rolled up sleeves and no jacket. After a few minutes Ada, Grace, and Elizabeth brought the meal in from the kitchen. Eli jumped up, took the hot dish from his wife, and placed it on the table. He continued to relieve the women of their dishes until the meal was completely set. After Marcus led them in prayer, they sat and began to eat.

  “You have a nice home, Ada,” Elizabeth said. “It’s so charming. How long have you lived here?”

  “Thank you. We’ve lived in this house for about three and a half years.”

  “You must have moved in shortly after you were married,” Elizabeth observed. “Are you from East Haven? Do your parents live in town as well?”

  “Um, no…” Ada said, glancing at Eli. He wondered what she was saying no to: Elizabeth’s assumption about how long they had been married or her question about their parents. It would have worked for either. He winked and was about to rescue her, but Nathan spoke instead.

  “It is a nice home, but I was expecting something bigger. I don’t mean to sound critical, though. I admire you for choosing to live in a smaller home. I have a few associates who live in houses much bigger than they need, just to make sure everyone is aware that they can.”

  Eli looked at Marcus quickly before responding with a quiet laugh. “I think it’s all about perspective, Nathan. For Ada and I, this is a big house—at least structurally. We lived in a very small home for several years before moving to East Haven, but in many ways, it felt bigger than this one. Every fall when we visit our family, we stay in it. That home will always be dear to us; I built it myself and it’s filled with memories, some good and some sad.”

  “You know, Eli,” Marcus said. “I’ve known you for a while now, but I still don’t know much about your past. Nathan, did you know Eli and Ada used to be traveling merchants?”

  “Really?” he said, tilting his head.

  “It’s true!” Marcus said. “They used to make and sell toys at town markets. What do you think of that?” Eli wondered if Nathan would take the bait Marcus was throwing.

  “I didn’t realize selling toys at markets was so lucrative,” Nathan replied, turning back to Eli. There was a long pause as Eli leaned back in his seat and looked thoughtfully at the men.

  “My investments were lucrative,” he remarked. “The markets were… marginal. Selling toys was something we sort of stumbled into.” When the men looked as though they wanted a better explanation, he continued before they could ask anything specific. “Almost ten years ago, Ada and I lost our parents…”

  As he relayed parts of their story to his guests, he rubbed his tattoo, and his eyes drifted to Ada. She peered down at her hands and remained silent. The low candlelight felt heavy as he told his captivated guests of their struggles to survive on their own after their parents had died. He mentioned how they had literally stumbled onto the caravan, but his words trailed off before he could explain why they were running toward them. After a pause he opened his mouth again, and for a brief second, he believed he might tell them everything—the gruesome details of their parents’ deaths, their abduction, even the banknotes—but Ada glance at him, and his throat closed. He let out an uncertain chuckle and his eyes dropped.

  “Well, anyway…the caravan took us in and adopted us. We married young and learned a trade from our new family. We sold our toys at the markets as we traveled through different towns during the summer months. It was a good life with good people. T
hey taught us about acceptance and friendship.” He turned to Nathan. “They showed me what it looks like to help others. I might have grown up bitter and angry if it weren’t for them.”

  “Well then, I guess I have your caravan family to thank as well as you,” Nathan observed. “But I think there’s more to your story than you’ve just told us.”

  “There is,” Eli admitted. His eyes shifted between the men. “But not all of it is conversation that should accompany a meal.”

  There was a drawn-out silence, and finally, Nathan nodded and pointed to Eli’s arms. “In that case, I’d like to hear where that art came from. That’s one of the best tattoos I’ve ever seen. Whoever did it has some real talent. But I bet it must have hurt.”

  Eli smiled at his comment. “It was a little uncomfortable,” he agreed. He turned his arms so Nathan could get a better look. “Jed worked on this for several months. He’s one of the men from the caravan. He’s the closest thing I have to a father now. My tattoos remind me that God has a plan for my life. Helping you is part of that plan, Nathan. But I don’t think you’re the whole picture; you’re only one of the branches on this vine.”

  As Eli remembered this conversation from the night before, he was brought back to the present when Nathan sighed. He continued to examine Angel and then sat back, smiling at the parents.

  “I have some good news for you,” he said. “Angel has a unilateral cleft that does not extend into his gums or palate.” The parents looked at him vacantly, unsure of what he meant. “It’s the best scenario with the simplest fix,” he clarified. They both let out a relieved sigh. “I’d like to schedule his procedure for the spring, so you won’t have to travel with him during the winter months.” He opened a scheduling book. “You should plan to stay in Lambury for about ten days; I want to observe Angel during the week after his surgery. Our facility has accommodations, so you don’t have to worry about where you’ll stay. I think he will only need one operation, but I won’t know for sure until after his follow-up exam.” He flipped through the pages of his book until he found an empty week.

  “Here we go! Let’s schedule it for March twenty-first. You can take the train on Saturday the nineteenth and return home on Monday the twenty-eighth. Today is October twenty-third; that puts his procedure out five months. Angel will be almost ten months old by then. That will work out well.”

  Nathan wrote the information in his calendar. The visit continued with the Martins asking more questions. Eli watched the young family plan for this life-changing event and wondered what branches God would bring him next.

  JOHN

  John listened as the doctor talked about a surgery that would fix the Martin baby. It all looked impressive, but there was no way Jacob could afford it without help. He wasn’t surprised when the doctor’s speech turned into a proposal that the church members raise money for Angel’s surgery. Dr. Keeler told them how much was needed and suggested they collect as much as possible over the next four weeks. Even though the procedure was scheduled for March, he insisted on having a deadline for the collection. John glanced at Jacob and rolled his eyes when he saw Eli sitting next to him; apparently, he had found the doctor.

  As usual, that idler had been out of town avoiding the harvest when he happened upon the surgeon. He met him in some town between East Haven and wherever he disappears to every fall. He invited the doctor to their humble little town and convinced Jacob to let his kid get the surgery. Obviously, John was happy for the Martins, but why did it have to be the town gypsy who came to the rescue? Eli must be tickled with himself over this discovery. Bringing a doctor to town would make him look like a hero. But John could see right through his hypocrisy.

  He had not forgotten their argument last year when the Webers’ house had burned down. Eli made such a big deal about John’s suggestion that everyone give Isaac a certain amount of money. How was this any different? Did he think this was okay because it was his idea? John was going to have to knock him down a peg or two.

  After the service, everyone crowded around the doctor and the Martins, asking questions and offering words of support. Eli hovered close to the group with what John assumed was a self-important attitude. John walked up behind him, gripped his arm, and pulled him away from the others. He felt Eli tense up as a defensive look cast a shadow across the gypsy’s face.

  “You must feel pretty good about yourself, right about now,” John snorted in a low voice. Eli frowned at him but remained silent. “You know, finding this guy and bringing him here is not enough, boy. You’re going to need to step up and do more this time. You don’t get to bring this doctor to town, and then expect the rest of us to do all the work; you have to give something too. Got it?”

  “You’re joking, right?” Eli said, shaking his head. “You think you have some great insight that qualifies you to tell others what they should be doing? You need to manage your own affairs, John, and let me manage mine.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “I know what ‘managing your own affairs’ means to you. You are going to donate money to the Martins; you don’t get to claim poverty this time. And this is how you’ll do it: instead of skipping out on work, you’re going to get yourself over to Ray’s every single day—assuming he’ll have you—and you’re going to give Jacob all the extra money you earn. Heck, you might even discover how good self-respect feels. Wouldn’t that be something?”

  Eli jerked his arm out of John’s grasp. “Are you done?” he asked. “Because this conversation is over.” He walked away, scowling. John watched him go to his wife, say a quick word in her ear, and storm away with fists clenched.

  ELI

  Two weeks after Dr. Keeler had talked to the church, Angel’s fundraising event, which had reached its halfway point, was going well. Eli sat in the pastor’s office with Marcus and David as they looked over the donation ledger. The funds were trickling in on a daily basis. Marcus wrote down each amount after the name of the person who gave it and added up the total. The town had already raised over one-third of the cost; Eli was impressed.

  “Well at this rate, I think we’re going to get really close,” David said.

  “If it keeps up,” Marcus agreed. “But I expect the giving will taper off during these last two weeks. Even so, we should raise just over half of what is needed, and that’s still pretty good. Dr. Keeler said this would be a success for a town our size.”

  David ran his finger down the column of names. “We might get a surge of giving at the end,” he said. “There are a few people who aren’t on this list yet. Some told me personally that they’re planning on giving.”

  “Regardless of what anyone has said, we need to keep our focus on the total column, not the names,” Marcus insisted. “By the way, here’s the collection from today. Can you deposit it, David?” He handed a box to the banker.

  “Sure, and you’ll probably want to add this to your list.” David pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Edgar Johnson had me transfer money directly from his account to Jacob’s. It made more sense to do it that way, since it’s a fairly good-sized donation.” He handed the paper to Marcus, who looked at the numbers written on it and smiled. He added the information to the ledger.

  As Eli watched him scribble down an amount, a flicker of anger ignited in him. He hadn’t thought about Edgar for weeks. He wondered if that donation came anywhere close to what the man had stolen from his nephew. He didn’t deserve any credit for it; that money should be considered Jacob’s own personal contribution.

  Eli recalled Jed’s advice. He had allowed himself to be distracted after meeting Nathan, but now the conflict with Edgar came flooding back into his mind. He couldn’t put it off any longer; he had to face him.

  “Well, that helped tremendously!” Marcus said after adding up the new total. “We are very close to the halfway mark! I’m so pleased.” He looked up at the other two with a grin. “This encourages me. The people of this town are quite generous, wouldn’t you both agree?”

>   Eli looked at the pastor with a straight face and forced himself to nod.

  EDGAR

  It was four o’clock and no one had passed through the mercantile door for over an hour. That was typical for November; shorter days tended to close the shops of East Haven early. Edgar had sent his nephew home forty minutes ago. Keeping Jacob at the store was pointless when there were no customers to help.

  He brought the cash box out from under the counter and opened his register book. As he counted his sales and jotted down his income for the day, the entrance bell on the front door rang. Edgar glanced up, surprised to have a customer at this hour. When he saw Eli walk into the building, he scooped up the coins in front of him. He threw them in the cash box, shut the lid, and swiftly stowed it out of sight. Eli hadn’t been in the mercantile for months, what could he possibly want? Edgar reached under the counter and moved his searching fingers along the top shelf.

  “I’ve already started closing up for the night,” he stated.

  “I can see that,” Eli said. He walked up to Edgar and placed his hands on the edge of the countertop. He wasn’t smiling.

  “Why are you here?” Edgar asked as his fingers finally found the revolver. His hand rested lightly on the grip.

  “I was hoping to catch you alone,” Eli said, keeping his voice quiet. “Have you sent Jacob home?”

  “He left almost an hour ago,” Edgar replied. “We don’t have any business to discuss, Eli. You best be leaving.”

  “Not yet,” Eli said, shaking his head. His tense posture reminded Edgar of what John Miller had speculated about his violent streak.

  “Boy,” he said, clearing his throat. His eyes darted briefly toward the shelf under the counter. “Whatever you came in here for, you may want to reconsider.”