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Don't Hang My Friend

Page 6

by Raffensperger, John;


  The men shuffled their feet and the bottle gurgled again.

  “Ah choo.” The sound was muffled, but came from inside the trunk.

  “Damned if you ain’t lying. I’m opening that trunk,” Murphy roared.

  I plumb stopped breathing and got ready to run, but the woman screamed. “Help, murder, help, murder!”

  A bunch of roustabouts with sledgehammers barged into the tent. The deputies got out fast. The woman giggled until I thought she was goin’ to fall off her chair. “It’s OK boys, you can come out now. Beat it,” she said.

  We went out under the back of the tent and took off for the front gate. The deputies were too busy to notice and we made it out of the grounds without more trouble. Folks had gone off to see the races and the darkies were out of the fair grounds and on their way to the ferry landing.

  I kept lookin’ back over my shoulder and ran downtown through alleys. Mr. Birt was at his desk in the newspaper office. “Tom, glad you dropped by, been meaning to talk to you.”

  “The Sheriff and his deputies drove Young Isaiah and his family off the fairgrounds. Murphy threatened to shoot us boys when we stood up for the darkies,” I said. Mr. Birt fiddled with a pencil and looked towards the wagon shop. “Nobody has sympathy for the darkies. A lot of people blame the freed slaves for taking land. The Klan wants to scare them into going back south,” said Mr. Birt. “Can’t you do something?” I asked.

  “Not likely. They are going to build a bridge and a lock and dam so steamboats can go all the way to Chicago. Farmers will be able to get their produce to market a lot easier. The price of land will go up,” Mr. Birt said.

  He shuffled papers. “I’ll keep my ears open and see what happens. Oh, did you know Dr. Steele is going to Chicago in a few days?”

  “Gee, is that so? I figured he would stay and work with Doc Evans,” I said.

  “Sandy Ford is too small for a man like him. He will be a professor some day,” Mr. Birt said.

  I slouched on home, kicking leaves and feeling bad. With Dr. Steele leaving there wasn’t much chance to see Rachel.

  Chapter Six

  It was getting on to October and cooling off, but everything was dry as an old bone. The fine smell of smoke from burning leaves reminded me of campfires and how I had figured on camping out when I was fighting injuns and making my fortune. If Buffalo Bill kept at the job, there wouldn’t be no more Indians to fight. Dr. Steele and Rachel had opened a whole world of different possibilities. It was powerful hard to know what to do. I was getting older every day and hadn’t settled on a future. Pa wanted me to work in the store, but that wasn’t very exciting. Aunt Alice jawed about how important it was to go to school and read books. I had about half a mind to study medicine but that anatomy book was deep and not nearly as much fun as a story book. I hadn’t seen Dr. Steele for a week or so, but I thought about Rachel every single day. Sometimes her hair like corn shucks and her clingy nightgown came into mind and I just about got light-headed and couldn’t think of nothin’ else.

  I always drove the buggy when Aunt Alice visited the Jones sisters on account of they were bad crippled and couldn’t come to church. Aunty took the missionary society tracts and Sunday school lessons to them once a month. They took rhubarb and cascara for their bowels. Pa fixed their medicine with alcohol so for most of the day, they felt real good. Aunt Alice wore her big hat and veil and a linen duster over her black dress. She liked to gossip with the old Jones sisters. Their place was five miles out of town, almost halfway to the Bontrager place so I always rented a buggy for the trip.

  “Aunt Alice, do you mind if I take the buggy out for a spin while you visit with the Jones women?”

  “Why don’t you read a book, like always? And why is your face all red?” .

  “I figured on visiting the Bontrager place and see how that girl is getting along.”

  “Humph! The very idea.”

  Then she gave me a sly look. “I guess it’s time you noticed girls. Go on, but we have to be home in time for supper.”

  I whipped up the horse and covered those five miles in no time. When those dogs started barking and jumping I plumb forgot all the nice things I was going to say. Rachel’s mother came out on the porch and called off the dogs. “I come to see how Rachel is getting along.”

  She looked at me like I was an insect or something worse. “Rachel, the doctor’s boy is here.”

  Rachel came out on her crutches, with her hair pulled back in a knot, wearing a brown calico dress. She was so pretty I couldn’t say a word.

  “Would you like a glass of apple cider?” she asked.

  “I sure enough would.”

  “My leg is healing just fine.”

  “That’s mighty good news. Here’s a present for you.”

  “Tom, thank you. I just love peppermint drops,” she said.

  When her ma came back to the porch with a glass of fresh cider, I got up the courage to ask if Rachel could go for a buggy ride.

  “Yes but bring her back and leave before the men come back from the fields.”

  I handed Rachel up on the buggy and for a minute held her warm soft hand. We went off toward the cottonwood trees by the creek.

  “It’s a nice day for a ride,” I said.

  “Yes, it’s right pretty out and cooler, too.”

  We didn’t say anything until we got in the shade of trees.

  “I generally read a book when I bring Aunt Alice to see the Jones sisters, but I’d druther visit you,” I said.

  “It must be nice to read books. Pa says book learning leads to sin. Ma wants me to go to school. What sort of books do you read?” She asked.

  “I like Ned Buntline’s stories about Buffalo Bill Cody. Why, that fellow shoots buffaloes like they were rabbits and kills bad injuns.”

  “It ain’t nice to kill people, even if they are Indians,” Rachel said.

  “Well, there’s other stories, too. About the funniest thing I ever read was about a fella named Jim Smiley, who lived in a gold mining camp out in Californy. He taught a frog, named Dan’l Webster to jump further than any frog in the whole country. Jim Smiley figured on betting on the frog and making a whole lot of money. Then another fella, filled Dan’l Webster up with bird shot, so’s he couldn’t jump and Jim Smiley lost a whole lot of money.”

  “Pa says that gambling is sinful. You wouldn’t gamble. Would you?” Rachel pulled away, like she was mad and I felt bad on account of I bet pennies and even nickels on marble games.

  “Aw shucks, I woudn’t bet on nothin’ if you were against it,” I said. “There’s books like the ones written by Mr. Edgar Allen Poe that are even better. I like the one about a man who was tied up at the bottom of a slimy, cold pit in a Spanish prison. He didn’t have nothin’ to eat and rats chewed on his fingers and nose. A pendulum with a great big sharp sword was swinging and swooshing and comin’ down to cut him in half.”

  Rachel snuggled closer, until I felt her warmth and smelled her hair. I got all stirred up.

  “That’s real scary, but what happened?” She asked.

  “Well, just as he was about to get cut in half French soldiers saved him.”

  I didn’t tell her about no more books, because it was nice and peaceful, just holding her hand. It wasn’t no time at all before she said, “We must go back, before Papa comes in from the fields.”

  I got to touch her hand one more time, when I helped her down from the buggy. She held on for longer than it took to steady herself.

  “That was the nicest ride I ever had. Maybe you can come again,” she said.

  I was kinda dreamy when I drove Aunt Alice home. All those thoughts of Rachel made it hard to study the book until I come to the part about female anatomy. My eyes just about bugged out and that book got a whole lot more interesting. The next morning, Dr. Steele came to the store, even before I had swept the floor. “Tom, come down to the Camp House tonight so I can see how your studying is coming along,” he said.

  I got there jus
t after dinner and Doc invited me to have a glass of lemonade and peach pie. Isaiah gave me a second helping. The darky looked a lot older and didn’t stand up straight like he did before Ike was killed.

  As soon as Dr. Steele finished his pie, he flipped through the pages of Gray’s anatomy and showed me a picture of the heart. “How many chambers in the heart?”

  “Four.”

  “That’s right, and what are their names?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Look here, the right atrium empties into the right ventricle, which pumps blood to the lung and then the blood returns to the left atrium, which goes into the left ventricle, which pumps blood to the whole body. Is that so hard?” Are you coming along to see how Rachel’s leg is healing tomorrow?” He asked.

  “Yes sir.”

  oc rented an almost new buggy and Nelly, a nice little sorrel mare for the trip. The sun shined and the wind in our faces felt good. After a while, the horse slowed and he passed the reins and read a book. When we stopped at the creek to let the horse drink, A Bobwhite quail whistled. The prairie grass had turned brown and yellow leaves were falling off cottonwood trees.

  “I’ll miss this country when I’m in Chicago.” he said.

  When we got to the lane leading to Bontrager’s, I flicked the reins and got the mare up to a good trot all the way to the front porch. Rachel was shelling peas in the sunshine. She had a lot more color and seemed rounder all over. Her yeller hair was so pretty, it made my head swim. Doc Steele got down and walked up to the porch but I stayed in the buggy and blushed red as a beet. Mrs. Bontrager came out, wiped her hands on her apron and wrung the Doc’s hand, like he was an old friend. “Rachel is just fine,” she said.

  “Bring the bag,” Doc said.

  W washed our hands in a basin with soap and water. . Doc put Rachel’s leg up on a stool and took off the splints. I handed him the scissors and he cut the bandages. The swelling had all gone and there was just a little red line where the bone had come through her skin. Doc pressed over the scar and twisted her ankle.

  “Does it hurt?”

  She wriggled her toes.

  “No. It feels fine.”

  I should a felt real important, being the doctor’s assistant and all, but I couldn’t say a word, even “hello” or “glad to see you again”. Her leg was just as pretty as I remembered. Doc bandaged the splints back on and stretched his back when he stood up. “Now mind you, the bones are knitting just fine, but they won’t be completely healed for two more weeks. Use the crutches. If you ran or twisted your ankle, it would break again.”

  It was dinnertime when Mr. Bontrager and the boys came back from the fields. Rachel skipped along on her crutches and sat down at one end of the table. I hung back until I could take the last chair that was next to her. I couldn’t say a word while folks passed the fried chicken and ears of sweet corn and didn’t have any taste for food when she was so close. Sometimes, her elbow touched my arm. There was a big lump in my throat and I could hardly get down the mashed potatoes and gravy. “I suppose you are ready to start school,” she said.

  It took me plumb by surprise and I had to swallow a big lump of chicken before I answered. “Yes’m.”

  “Can’t you talk?” she whispered.

  “Yes’m, I know how to talk.”

  “Did I cry a lot or say anything bad when I had the operation?”

  “No’m, you were about the bravest person I ever saw.”

  She smiled and I just about turned to jelly.

  “Well, what about school?” she asked.

  “I’m aim to study Latin and history and science, so I can go to medical school and be like Doctor Steele.”

  She touched my hand. It was like an electric spark went between us.

  “You already know a lot. Walter said you helped save my leg. Ma wants me to go to school in town, but Pa says it’s time I got married.”

  “You are too young to get married,” I said.

  “Would you like to see our new colt?” she asked.

  “Yes, I sure enough would enjoy that.”

  I held her crutches and steadied her arm while she got up from the table we went out to the barn. The new colt was a frisky little gray mare, but I wasn’t much interested in horses. I wanted to hold her close and feel all those soft curves. It was awkward with those crutches, but I got an arm around her waist and held her. She tried to wriggle free and pushed me away with one hand. I held on. She dropped the crutches and stood on one foot, while I kissed her cheek and she put an arm around the back of my neck. Then she pushed me away.

  “I like you a whole lot, but it ain’t no use. Pa’s already lookin’ for a man for me to marry. That’s the way it is with our folks even though Ma says it ain’t right.”

  “Do you have to get married now? Won’t your Pa let you put it off until I finish school?”

  She shook her head and a tear went down her cheek. I picked up her crutches and we got back to the porch just as Mr. Bontrager come out with his drawstring purse.

  “I already paid seven dollars. I figure the job was worth twenty. Is this ten dollar gold piece and three silver dollars enough?” “Rachel is worth a whole lot more than twenty dollars,” I blurted out.

  Old man Bontrager got real red. “Boy, this ain’t none of your concern. I don’t want to see you on this property no more.”

  “Thank you for the money, I’m happy Rachel’s leg healed,” Dr. Steele said.

  It seemed a long way back to town but I wasn’t in any hurry. It was probably the last trip with the doctor. There wouldn’t be any more huggin’ and kissin’ with Rachel. I felt pretty low. “Well, Tom, you figured out what you are going to do with your life?”

  “Yes, sir. I want to go to school and learn how to be a real doctor.”

  “You have the stuff, but study hard. When I get settled in Chicago you could be my apprentice until it’s time for you to start medical school.”

  “I should help Pa? He’s been sick for a long time and gets weaker every day. The cough gets worse and worse and most of the time, he has a fever. Nothing seems to help.”

  “Does he spit blood?” Doc asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “ I can see him tonight. We can ask him about you going to Chicago.”

  Pa was on the couch in the parlor when the doctor arrived. His face was chalk pale except for red fever spots on his sunken cheeks. Dr. Steele listened while Pa told him about how the sickness had started and how we had come west for clean country air. He had taken bloodroot, wild cherry and burdock tea, but was worse.

  Dr. Steele looked at the green-yellow mucous Pa spit into a pint jar, listened to his lungs with a stethoscope and tapped Pa’s chest. “Mr. Slocum, you have consumption in both lungs. There is no cure but doctors in Europe think bed rest helps. I advise you to rest in bed for at least a year.”

  Pa had a bad coughing fit and brought up flecks of blood. “Thank you, doctor.” He coughed so hard his chest shook.

  “Mr. Slocum, Tom has a knack for medicine. He can be my apprentice before he goes to medical school.”

  Pa looked at me for along time, then his eyes softened and it seemed like he perked up. “Yes, that would be a great opportunity for Tom. Scientific medicine is the future.”

  “Does that mean I can go to medical school?” I asked.

  “Yes, Tom, that’s what I mean,” Pa said.

  Before he left that night, the doctor clapped me on the back. “Tom, study the anatomy book. I’ll have you come to Chicago as soon as I’m settled.”

  He gave my shoulder a little squeeze and walked away into the dusk.

  Pa wouldn’t hear of staying in bed. I opened the store the next morning got my work done and tried to study but thought about Rachel. Learning how to be a doctor looked awful hard. That night Pa had took only a few spoons full of soup for supper. The next morning Pa was walking to the store when he had a coughing fit. Blood gushed out of his mouth and he fell down dead in front of the harness shop.
It was like the whole world had come to an end. I went numb, like I was near death too. I locked the store and went home.

  Chapter Seven

  Aunt Alice sat in the parlor with the shades drawn and cried like her heart was broken. “Auntie, please, Pa was sick a long time and mebbe it is better that he don’t suffer any more and has gone on to heaven,” I said. Nothin’ helped Aunt Alice and I wasn’t really sure about all that heaven stuff anyway. Men from the church laid Pa in the parlor. I washed away the blood on his face, thinkin’ that would make him feel, or at least, look a little better. No one patted me on the back and said everything would be all right. There weren’t no one to do that, in the whole world. Rachel was too far away to say sweet things in my ear. The world was dark.

  Pa was still warm when the Reverend Hiram Pendelton and his daughter Bessie took charge. The Reverend was on the plump side and always wore a black swallow-tail coat and grey vest with a pearl stick pin. He was slick and smooth, especially when they passed the collection plate. Bessie was a confirmed spinster with a sharp nose; her hair was always pulled back in a tight bun and if she had a female looking body, it was well hid. Bessie taught violin, played the organ in church and led the temperance society. She had studied at a woman’s seminary and marched in parades with women who wanted to vote but never had much luck with the boys’ Sunday school class. One morning, Billy Malone passed a little fart then another boy let one slide. We all laughed until the tears came. Miss Pendelton tried to make us into Christian gentlemen. The deacons didn’t exactly approve of her stirring up the gentle sex to vote and starting a temperance society. Mr. Farnum took over the class on account of he was awful thick with Reverend Pendelton and always took up the collection.

  Pa hadn’t gone to church regular but he’d been baptized and Aunt Alice went twice a week to make up for his backsliding. The church ladies arrived with enough food for the whole town. Aunt Alice stayed in the parlor and stared into space. When the Reverend and Bessie came, I crawled into a corner of the old stable out back and cried until night came. Later, I looked at Pa’s poor frail body and thought about the times I hadn’t done what he wanted and how hard his life had been since Ma died. I slept out in the barn in the straw so as to get away from all the ladies who were consoling Aunt Alice. I had to stay home and look after Aunt Alice instead of going to Chicago.

 

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