Don't Hang My Friend

by Raffensperger, John;

  The hospital was so crowded a person couldn’t get between the beds that were filled with poor, sick people, mostly vagrants and immigrants. Doc said the relatives of politician’s ran the place. Aunt Alice could have done a better job by herself. The operating room wasn’t near as clean or as nice as the one we had at home, but there were a lot of doctors and students waiting to see the operation. The patient was a little child, not more than two or three years old, with an ugly hole in the middle of his face. Doc said it was a harelip. The child let out a cry when the intern, a young fellow in a dirty white coat, clapped the ether mask over his face. Another intern held the poor thing on the table until he quit struggling and went to sleep. Doc said three interns lived in the hospital and didn’t get paid, but they got to study all kinds of diseases and did the autopsies. That news was bothersome on account of it meant another year or so on top of the two years of school, without no pay. The surgeon was an older man with gray whiskers and hands that weren’t all that clean. He didn’t roll up the sleeves of his frock coat and as near as I could tell, he hadn’t washed or even soaked the instruments in carbolic acid. I was about to say something. Doc poked me in the ribs. “Hush, Tom, don’t say anything and just watch.”

  It was a neat job and fast, too. He sliced away tissue on either side of the hole and then drew the two sides together with stitches. The child’s face looked almost normal when he was done. It was a fine operation, but I wondered why he didn’t wash his hands or soak the instruments. When the operation was over, he showed pictures of other patients he had operated on. For a while I forgot all about my troubles. When he was finished, we all trooped off to see what the students called ‘interesting cases’. There wasn’t much that was new because Doc had already taught me about pneumonia, broken bones and heart trouble. The professor spent a long time at the bedside of a man whose leg was amputated, explaining how this was an example of bad pus instead of laudable pus. The poor patient was out of his head with a high fever.

  I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Sir, the wound got infected because you didn’t use the carbolic acid treatment,” I said.

  There was dead silence for about thirty seconds. The professor got red in the face and erupted like a volcano.

  “Carbolic acid, carbolic acid, damn foolishness, damn European foolishness. Young man, are you saying that these hands, these healing hands, carry germs that caused this man’s illness?”

  There was a lot of foot shuffling and some of the other doctors said, “yes, yes, damned foolishness.”

  Doc grabbed the scruff of my neck and I scrunched down to get out of sight. It was hard to understand how such a simple question could cause such an uproar. When we got outside, Doc explained about how American doctors still thought that disease was spread by bad air or moral weakness and not by germs. I think Doc was secretly sort of pleased by what I said because he had been arguing for the same thing. It was pretty puzzling, because you would think that doctors would be willing to try a new treatment, just to see if it worked.

  We got another horse-cab and rolled away to the center of the city and stopped before a store with a big sign:

  BROOKS AND WETHERSPOON

  MEN’S HABERDASHERY

  “Tom, it’s time you stopped looking like a country hick,” Doc said.

  The man in the store made me strip down to my drawers and measured my chest and arms and legs. A clerk brought pants and coats in different colors. Doc said I could pick out whatever I wanted. The pants and coat fit just fine and the cloth was smooth and didn’t even itch. Doc must have spent a big bundle of cash, because when we left that place, I was wearing pants with gray and blue stripes and a light blue jacket with brass buttons, a new pink shirt and a blue necktie with red spots. I ain’t never seen anything so grand. Right then, I wouldn’t have traded those fancy duds for a horse and a saddle.

  We were getting a mite hungry, since we hadn’t had a bite since the big breakfast on the train. Doc got us another cab and we went flying away to a part of town near the river. The cab driver said it was the levee. There were a lot of saloons and bath- houses and other places that didn’t have no signs out in front. We stopped in front of a grand three story brick building. Doc looked me square in the eye. “Tom, this is a gentlemen’s club. Don’t you mention this place to your Aunt Alice or anyone in Sandy Ford. You understand?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Miss Maggie is an old friend. Don’t scratch or pick your nose and if you don’t know which fork to use, watch how the ladies eat. Mind how much you drink. If someone offers you a glass, just take little sips. I’m going to stay a while and play poker. Right after dinner you go on back to the hotel and don’t get in any trouble on the way. You know how to get there?”

  Before I could answer, a black man stuck his mug out of a little window in the door. “What’s your bizness?”

  Doc handed in his card and said, “My compliments to Miss Maggie.”

  Pretty soon the black man came back with a big smile and let us into a grand room that was bright as daylight with gas chandeliers. Right in the middle of the room was a statue of a naked woman with water spouting out of her mouth into a pool big enough to go swimmin’. There were mirrors and pictures of more naked ladies on every wall and the windows were covered with red velvet drapes. When I took in all them pictures of naked flesh, my mouth hung open. Some fella was banging away at a piano and another was sawin’ on a violin with his head goin’ up and down. It must have been a new tune, because they never played it at the band concerts in Sandy Ford. Important looking men were drinking and smoking big seegars and carrying on with women. There was a lot of loud talk and giggling and one old fellow was nuzzling an almost naked girl on his lap.

  I was all bug-eyed and thought sure we were in the wrong place when a real pretty lady in a tight pink dress with one of those bustle things sticking out of her rear end run up and gave Doc a big kiss. Her shoulders and most of her chest were bare except for a pearl necklace hanging right down the middle. All her hair was piled up on top of her head in little ringlets.

  “Maggie,” Doc gave her a big hug. “Meet Tom Slocum, my assistant. This is his first trip to Chicago.”

  “My, what a handsome young man. He will have a fine time.”

  Miss Maggie gave me a big smacker with lips that smelled like peppermint and perfume. I’ll swear Doc winked, but I couldn’t be sure, on account of there were so many other things to see. Miss Maggie was pretty as a picture and about the friendliest person I ever saw. She put her arms around both of us and we went up the big staircase between two brass railings to a smaller room that had couches around the walls and a table set with four places. She pulled on a little cord and a darky came in with a big bottle setting in a bucket of ice. He popped a cork and poured what looked like apple cider into glasses with long stems. Miss Maggie said it came all the way from France and cost a lot of money. It tasted really fine but the bubbles tickled my nose. The darky had no more than left when this pretty red-haired girl sashayed into the room and shined her big blue eyes and flapped her eyelashes like I was the onliest person in the whole world. She made one of those little curtsey things and held out her hand. “I’m Dianna.”

  I was just about tongue tied and must have turned red because my face got real hot and it took a while to get my tongue untangled. “Dianna, gosh, that’s about the nicest name, I ever heard.” I finally got around to taking her hand. “I’m Tom.”

  Her hand was soft like it wasn’t nothing at all. Her skin was white and milky and there was a lot of it showing, on account of she was wearing a dress that was about as fragile as mosquito netting. She put her mouth up close to my ear and whispered in a little voice, like she didn’t want anyone else to hear. She touched my ear with her tongue. It was like an electric shock. “Dianna is my stage name, I’m an actress.”

  “Gosh, do you act in real plays?”

  She tugged at her red curls and her face lit up in a big smile. “Mostly, I do leg shows, high kic
ks and shimmies. I can even dance the grizzly bear and sing.”

  I didn’t know about leg shows, but it sure sounded interesting. She had me sit on one of the couches and poured another glass of bubbly wine. I took little sips, just like Doc said, but it went down just slicker than anything and in about a minute, she poured another glass. All the time, she was runnin’ her hand up and down my arm and shoulder and didn’t seem to mind when I snuck an arm around her waist. Meanwhile, Doc and Miss Maggie were talking and laughing to beat the band. Doc had finished off the first bottle and was working on another when a Negro in a black suit rolled in a cart covered with trays of food.

  Dianna clapped her hands. “Oh, supper time,” she said.

  The table was covered with a white cloth with a silver candle holder in the middle. I was bug eyed at the half dozen plates and saucers and different sized glasses and a bunch of bright and shiny forks, spoons and table knives that were on the cloth. Doc dug into the platter and scooped up an oyster. I seen ‘em before at the Camp house, but never had one. Dianna speared one with a little fork, mopped up some sauce and popped it in my mouth. At first it was sort of slimy and slid around over my tongue. The sauce was peppery, then I got a briny taste like what I supposed the ocean was like. It was real good and I had about a dozen. When the oysters were all gone, the darky came back with a dish of meat and a platter of what looked like potatoes, but Dianna said they were pommes de terre. Doc said the meat was from a canvasback duck and the sauce was made out of lemons and honey. I didn’t dig in until I saw which fork Dianna used. The duck was real tasty and so were the mashed potatoes. I figured supper was about over, when the darky cleared away the dishes and brought a platter of beefsteaks and string beans. Dianna said they were haricots verts. She just took little bites, but I ate a whole steak and some of the beans that were covered with a creamy sauce and cut up nuts. I didn’t even want to think of more food and was kind of dizzy when the darky passed out plates of ice cream and chocolate sauce. There wasn’t nothing to do but make room for the ice cream and a glass of what Doc called an after dinner drink. It tasted a lot like whisky, but Dianna said it was brandy.

  By that time, there seemed to be about double the number of candles on the table and the rest of the room was fuzzy. I was running my hands over Dianna, finding all sorts of new anatomy, when Doc and Miss Maggie cleared out.

  “There’s a big game tonight and I’ll be late. You go straight back to the hotel,” Doc said.

  Dianna put out all the lights except for a candle. “You don’t really have to leave so soon, do you Tom?”

  “It sure is nice and I’d like to stay, but it’s pretty warm,” I said.

  She snuggled in closer and began working on my coat and tie. “Well, honey, why don’t I just help you get out of some of these hot old clothes?”

  Once she got the coat and tie off, she began working on my pants buttons, and before, I knew what was happening, I was down on the couch, feeling real peaceful and dreamy with nothing on but my drawers that hadn’t been washed for a week.

  “Would you like to see my birthmark,” she said.

  “I would like that just fine.”

  She shucked off that gauzy little dress in no time and out popped both titties. One had a little red mark off to one side.

  “You can kiss it if you want,” she said.

  I couldn’t think of nothing better. She had a giggling fit and stuck out her tongue. “I’ll bet this is the first time you been with a girl.”

  My head was spinning like I was on one of those merry go rounds, but I didn’t let on about Mary, even if nothing much happened. I was plumb bug-eyed on account of a lot of female anatomy didn’t show up in the books.

  I figured we were going to get right to it, like the older boys talked about, then she kind of changed. “You can look, but if you want anything more, it will cost five dollars.”

  I had five dollars to spend on presents for Aunt Alice and maybe something for Rachel even though she wasn’t my girl no more.

  Things got all blurry. There were two candlesticks, where there had been just one. Out of nowhere, I heard Aunt Alice scolding something awful. “If you touch her, no decent girl will come near you,” she said.

  Of course, it really wasn’t Aunt Alice, but right then, I didn’t care on account of my head was spinning, my stomach was bustin’ and the oysters were crawling back up in my throat. I tried to swaller it down, but all those oysters and steak and that fizzy drink came gushing out. I threw up all over the floor and the couch. Instead of being helpful and kindly, Dianna smacked me across the face with the palm of her hand.

  “Get out, get out, right this minute,” she yelled.

  She pulled the cord and the big Negro came running into the room before I got my pants half on and dragged me by the scruff of my neck to the door. He gave me an awful kick that sent me wobbling into the street.

  I leaned against a light post, buttoned my shirt and wondered which way was the hotel. I was plumb lost and sick. When my head stopped spinning, I asked a fellow for directions. “Mister, where’s the Palmer House hotel?”

  He pointed down the street, but kept on going.

  The next fellow, a shabby sort, poked his hand out. “Mister kin you spare a nickel?”

  “Here’s a nickel. Where’s the Palmer House Hotel?”

  “Go two blocks that-a-way, turn right. It’s six or seven blocks until you come to Clark Street, then it’s another block.”

  Walking in the fresh air cleared my head and getting rid of supper settled my stomach some. I was feeling pretty good when I came to Clark Street. Men carrying torches and banners were marching down the street, singing and making a lot of noise. One banner said, “eight hour week or strike” another said “Knights of Labor” and another “Down With Useless Grant” In the middle of the marchers, a band was playin’ and drums were beating. It was exciting and I thought I might join up and see the fun, but a column of policemen with bllly clubs and pistols marched from the other direction. When they were about to collide, a nice-looking man grabbed my arm. “When them Socialist Bohunks get into it with the cops, there’s gonna be trouble. We better beat it, kid.”

  We went around the corner to a place called, The Working Man’s Tavern.

  I hung back, but the fella said it was a fine place and there was nothin’ to worry about. Men were backed up three or four deep at long bar, all talking and shouting or singing at once. It was high class on account of the spittoons were bright and shiny and the sawdust was fresh.

  We elbowed up to the bar next to big platters of salami, roast beef, cheese and bread. Anyone with a nickel could get a beer and a free lunch. When the bartender plunked down two big mugs of foamy beer, my new friend put three walnut shells and a pea on the bar. He was wearing a bright red shirt and a fancy checked coat. I figured he was rich. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Bill. If you can guess which shell has the pea, I’ll pay for the beer.”

  He moved the shells around, but I spotted the pea right away.

  “I’m Tom, Tom Slocum” It’s under the middle shell,” I said.

  “That’s right, you get a free beer. Hey, you are a smart boy. What brings you to Chicago?”

  “I’m visiting the County Hospital with Doctor Steele.”

  “A medical doctor? Well, those fellows make a fortune course most anyone can make money in Chicago. Shucks, any man who can who lay bricks or pound nails makes piles of money. They spend it pretty freely, too. Business in Chicago ain’t never been better. Are you looking for work? Say, we need another beer.”

  I watched him real close and easy as pie, guessed which shell had the pea and didn’t have to pay for the second beer. By then, I was getting right dizzy again and so filled up, it was hard to get the beer down. I didn’t want to disappoint Bill, on account he was so helpful and friendly. “I better git along to the hotel, if you don’t mind. I ain’t feelin’ so good,” I said.

  “Oh pshaw, ‘nother drink will fix you up just fine.”<
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  He ordered two whiskies and ran the pea and the shells around on the bar and had me guess again. I put my finger right on the shell with the pea.

  “My, my, ain’t no one ever guessed right three times in a row. Tell you what, if you want to make real money, let’s just bet quarters instead of drinks.”

  I don’t remember drinking the whiskey, but won the first quarter. Things got real hazy after that and pretty soon, I lost.

  “Well, your string of bad luck will break, so let’s up the ante to half a dollar.”

  Pretty soon Bill won all my money and faded into the crowd. I never saw him again. When I didn’t order no more beer, two rough characters hustled me out of the saloon. I heaved up the beer and whiskey all over my new clothes and laid down in the gutter until someone threw a bucket of dishwater out the front door. I roused up and got pointed toward the hotel. The next thing I knew, Doc was shaking me awake. I didn’t want to do nothing but lay there and die on account of it felt like my head was coming loose and I had to throw up again. “Leave me alone, I’m about to die,” I groaned.

  My mouth was dry and sticky and the words came out like a bullfrog croaking. As soon as got off the bed, I had a spell of heaving, but there wasn’t nothing left to throw up.

  Doc didn’t show a bit of mercy. “Get out that bed and wash off the mess while I get coffee.”

  I clung to the wall with both hands and crawled down the hall to the bathroom and drank about a gallon of water. That came back up, but then I drank some more that stayed down. I stuck my head in a basin of cold water and almost felt like living, but didn’t see how I could face Doc.

  “Drink this,” Doc said

  I held onto the cup with both hands and took a swallow of coffee that burned my tongue. I got the whole cup down and got back in bed. Doc had other ideas. “Now, you wet a towel and clean the mess off your clothes.”