“Now, Mr. Valders, you make sure to soak this so it doesn’t become infected,” Astrid instructed as she finished wrapping Toby’s hand.
Toby grinned at her. “Mr. Valders? After all these years? Do doctors have to be socially perfect or something?”
Jeffers could see red creeping up Astrid’s neck, but she ignored the remark and said, “Next.” She glanced up and saw Daniel watching her.
Daniel looked away, embarrassed at being caught out. Dr. Astrid Bjorklund was indeed a pleasure to look at, surrounded by her cloak of caring and her easy smile. But then, she’d known these people all her life. Think of all the stories hidden away under that golden hair, one strand of which insisted on falling onto her cheek, no matter how much she brushed it back. He turned when Thorliff called his name, grateful for the reprieve.
“Did you see our Russian worker leave?”
“No, but then, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“All the others have gone to their rooms,” Thorliff said, “but we can’t find him.”
“What is his name?”
“Boris Sidorov.” Thorliff stumbled over the unfamiliar name. “Sure wish they had simplified this one at Ellis Island like they did so many others.”
“Perhaps we better go look for him?”
“I’ll gather some of the others. Maybe if he hears us calling his name, he will respond.”
Daniel grabbed Toby and told him the situation. Then they headed out to the front porch of the boardinghouse, where Joshua was sitting in a rocking chair. The half moon floated up from the eastern horizon. “Did you see Boris at supper?”
“Sorry, no.” Joshua spoke in a hush. “He was on my crew, and I remember him working right until we finished. Then I don’t know. I assumed he headed for the dining room like everyone else.”
“Do you have any idea who his roommates are?”
“We can check with Mrs. Wiste,” Daniel offered.
“No, she’s gone home. I’ll ask Miss Christopherson.” Joshua returned to the dining room.
The three parted and took different sections of the town, calling the man’s name. Echoes of “Boris” floated about the town, setting dogs to barking and lights returning to darkened houses.
Daniel found the man, sound asleep and wrapped in a blanket, on the back porch of the boardinghouse. Rather than waking the man, he returned to the front porch and, putting two fingers in his mouth, blasted a whistle that could be heard clear to the river. The others returned, and he gave his report. “But what do we do about this? He didn’t run away. Perhaps he was uncomfortable with sharing a room.”
“Maybe he’s used to sleeping outside,” Toby said.
“There was no sleeping outside when confined in the hold of a ship, that’s for sure.” Daniel shook his head, then added, “He’s safe out there. Surely he will come in for breakfast.”
“If only we could talk with him.” Thorliff rubbed his chin. “I’ve asked, and no one knows any Russian.”
“He sure pulled his share of the work today,” Joshua said. “I was glad to have him on my crew.”
Thorliff headed toward home, and the others returned to the dining room, said their good-nights and thank-yous, and headed for their own beds. Daniel made his way down the hall past his mother’s room and opened his own door. How long would it be before he could open the door to a house again, rather than only to a room? He’d been thinking of his mother. Who could he find to help her so that she didn’t have all the work of keeping a house? Maybe they should put out a call for female immigrants too. Someone would be needed here at the boardinghouse to help with the laundry, the garden, and all the extra meals being prepared.
He hung his hat on the coatrack and pulled his tie out from around his neck. His hands felt raw in spite of the leather gloves he’d worn. He’d not done physical labor like this for years, something his muscles were reminding him of quite vociferously. A bath would feel good, but dropping onto the bed felt better. Perhaps one of the miracles Thorliff had mentioned had already happened in Blessing. The way all the people worked together, incorporating the new men as if they’d grown up there too, and getting the job done. He’d not heard a cross word, except when a board had fallen on one man’s toes and another had jabbed a long sliver into his palm. The minor wounds had kept the doctors busy. But the amount of work accomplished was amazing.
Might this be one of the reasons Blessing was growing so? Were Thorliff’s words indeed true? That all would be well? Ever since his father disappeared, Daniel had had trouble with comments like that. He still wanted to find the man who had appropriated his father’s name and spent the money as his own. Who was that man and where was he now? Maybe he’d be able to find out some information on this next sales trip. Would it do any good to pray about it? As Pastor Solberg so often said, one should pray for everything and praise God at the same time, no matter what happened. This didn’t make sense to him, but it was probably good advice. Life had taught him that when things were going really well, something terrible was about to happen.
In the morning as he was dressing, he heard a shout from the back porch. Had something happened to Boris?
19
Astrid awakened to banging on her bedroom door and Thorliff ’s voice calling, “Astrid, come quickly. One of the men is terribly ill.”
“Be right there.” Please, Lord, now what? Astrid exchanged her nightdress for work clothes and bundled her hair into a snood. Snatching an ankle-length apron from the hook by the door, she ran down the stairs as quickly as possible. Thorliff was waiting for her.
“They found Boris on the back porch of the boardinghouse, burning with fever. They are bringing him here any minute now.”
“Is Elizabeth up?”
“Awake, yes, but since she was called out late last night, and since you are here, I asked her to stay in her room and rest. Inga is with her. I telephoned Mor to come.”
Astrid heard the men outside and ran to open the door. “Bring him in here.” She motioned to the examining room, which Thelma had all ready for an emergency. They laid the man on the table and backed out of the room. The stench made her blink.
“Tell those men to scrub their hands and arms and change their clothes. This might be contagious. Make sure they do so. And scrub, not just wash. They can use the back porch. Thelma will know what to use.”
Thorliff did as she told him while she turned to the man lying comatose, filthy from the effluvia of some intestinal malady. Before she could turn around, her mother strode through the doorway.
“Thank God you are here.” Astrid indicated the man. “What do you think?”
“Let’s get him cleaned up first.”
“I’ll help,” Pastor Solberg said from the doorway. “I was in the garden when I heard the commotion. Do we know who he is?”
“His name is Boris Sidorov. He’s Russian, one of the new immigrants.” They stripped off his clothing and dropped each item into a tub to be washed.
“What could have hit him so suddenly?”
“Look at his belly. Those spots – like measles.” Ingeborg pointed. “He has typhoid. Perhaps he’s been carrying it for some time. It can hit hard in that case. He was probably already ill but hiding the symptoms.”
“Typhoid. This could rip through the entire town.” Astrid blinked, her mind churning as she tried to assimilate the news. “Pastor Solberg, you wash him down. I’ll go tell Thorliff what must be done.”
“Scrub thoroughly before you touch anything.” Ingeborg handed Pastor Solberg the basin filled with soap, water, and carbolic acid. “Be careful of yourself. Don’t splash any water on your skin or put your hands to your face. I wish we had kept him out on the porch until he was cleaned up.”
Astrid finished scrubbing up to her elbows, dropped her apron in the dirty clothes tub, and headed for the kitchen and the telephone. As soon as she had Miss Christopherson on the line, she gave terse instructions to scrub down the porch and to have anyone who had touched the man to scru
b thoroughly. “This is really bad. You need to carefully wash his room with disinfectant and boil the bedding. While he didn’t appear sick, he might have been carrying the contagion for some time.”
“What about the rest of the men he came with?”
“Tell them all to bathe and to wash everything they touched.”
“I can’t speak their languages.”
“Thorliff will be right over. Don’t let anyone leave the dining room.” How could they quarantine the men? Would it do any good now that everyone who worked with them for the last two days was already exposed? She set the earpiece back in the prongs and strode to the back porch. “Thelma, we need more hot water in the surgery. Is Thorliff still here?”
“He heard you and has already left.”
“Boil all the clothes and cloths we’ve used on the patient. We’ll scrub everything down with carbolic acid as soon as we get him into a room. No one may see him. This is highly contagious.”
The bell from upstairs in Elizabeth’s room rang.
Astrid stopped at the bottom of the stairs and called, “I can’t come up. We have a case of typhoid here. What is it?”
“Telephone Dr. Morganstein. A vaccine has been developed, and we need it here to protect the town. She always has it at the hospital, because there are often typhoid cases in Chicago. Didn’t they vaccinate you when you arrived for school?”
“I’d forgotten that. Of course. Well, that’s excellent news. So you’ve been vaccinated too?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll ask if anyone else has been.”
“Good. I’m keeping Inga up here too. The men who traveled with him should be quarantined also, especially those sharing his room at the boardinghouse.”
“What’s the incubation period?”
“I should know that. Check the contagious diseases section in the reference book in the office.”
“I will.”
“Are your mother and Pastor Solberg wearing masks?”
“No.”
“Mask them up and tell them to strip and scrub down as soon as you get him settled. Only you or I will take care of him.”
Astrid agreed and returned to the examining room, stopping in the doorway. She passed on Elizabeth’s instructions and went to the kitchen to telephone Chicago. After getting the assurance that the vials would be on the next train, she took in a deep breath and let it out on a prayer for help. This could be worse than the measles epidemic on the reservation.
At a knock on the door she opened it to find Daniel Jeffers standing there. “Good morning. You can’t – ”
“I know. Thorliff told me, and I came to tell you that I have been vaccinated, as has my mother. We had a situation like this in our former town. Tell us what to do, and we will help as much as we can.”
Astrid heaved a sigh and kept herself from slumping by a strong effort. She invited him in. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“No, thank you. I thought perhaps we could quarantine the men at the schoolhouse. We can spread pallets for them and bring food from the boardinghouse. I’ll start canvassing people to see who came in contact with the man who is ill. Thorliff will talk with the other immigrants to see if they are feeling ill. Ah, and Mr. Geddick will talk with the Germans. I’m thinking the others in the town can go about their business, as long as they have no contact with the men.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jeffers. You have no idea what a relief it is to know others are safe here.”
“I’ve canceled my trip, so Mother and I will do what we can.”
“Tell your mother thank you in advance for me, please.”
“I will. She could sit here and watch over the man who is so ill.”
“This changes things. I thought only Elizabeth and I had been vaccinated. Let me get things set up, and I will let her know.”
He smiled at her, emanating such calm that she felt herself relax a bit more. No wonder her brother had such trust in the man. As he turned toward the door, his parting words reminded her of her mother. “All will be well.”
“I pray so.” She returned to the sickroom to find Boris all bathed and dressed in one of the calico gowns made especially for the medical practice. Each one was open down the middle and had ties at the neck, at the middle, and near the hem. “Is he ready to be moved?”
“Ja, but he is not very responsive.”
“Let’s put him in the first room and try to get some nourishment into him. Thelma is heating up some of the chicken broth she canned. What about adding comfrey to calm his stomach?”
Her mother nodded. “That and ground willow bark. We’ll get turnip tops and spinach from the garden and boil those to help with the diarrhea. I’ll check to see if Thelma has any mustard in her pantry. I’ll look at my reference books when I get home.”
“All right. Thanks, Mor.” Astrid looked toward Ingeborg and Pastor Solberg. “We can move him together, and then you two take turns at the bath. All clothing must be boiled.”
After everyone had been informed as to the procedures, the immigrant workers moved their things to the schoolhouse and set to work digging cellars for the rest of the houses to be built. That way they had no contact with the folks of Blessing. The boardinghouse went back to normal operations after the bedrooms and back porch had been scrubbed down. Even so, for the next few days, everyone in town was extremely careful, and folks pretty much stayed home.
With the wheat fully ripened, harvest began in the southern fields that Lars and Haakan had acquired over the years, including the acres Joshua had formerly farmed. The two Landsverk brothers, along with the crews from both the hospital and the manufacturing plant, framed and roofed Joshua’s house in two days. Then the crews returned to their respective jobs.
Mrs. Jeffers spent hours at the bedside of the sick man, changing wet cloths to bring his fever down and spooning liquids into his mouth whenever he would cooperate. One night when Daniel Jeffers was on watch, Boris opened his eyes and, with a sigh, gazed around the room. Jeffers greeted him with a smile and a gentle hello.
“Ja, hello,” Boris squeaked with a nod. He nodded again when Jeffers held up the glass of water and drank some before slipping into a quiet sleep, no longer hallucinating and thrashing as he had in the midst of his delirium.
When Astrid came to spell him, Daniel Jeffers smiled. “Look at him. He’s turned the corner. He drank some water and spoke.”
“How wonderful.” Astrid listened to the man’s chest and checked his pulse. “Thanks be to God.”
“I seriously doubted this time.”
“Waiting is always the hardest, especially the longer it lasts. But when he didn’t get worse . . .”
“I thought he might just get weaker and weaker and slip away.”
“He needs to thank your mother for her care. I think she warned him that he better make the effort to get well because people here had invested so much in him.”
“When my mother gives instructions like that, you’d better listen,” Daniel said.
“Even if you don’t understand the words?”
“Even so.”
Astrid chuckled in the gentle glow emanating from the gaslight, turned down as low as it would go. “You are the voice of experience.”
“Me and my sister. She moved into our house when Mother left.”
“You have nieces and nephews?”
“Just one, but my sister is expecting another. Mother is hoping they will all come to visit when we have a house again.”
“Your mother is a remarkable woman. I heard her reading to Boris in English. She said she wanted him to get acquainted with the language as soon as possible. No sense in waiting for formal classes.”
“She has always wished she could have taught school.”
“And here she will. Good things happen to those who come to Blessing.”
“How much longer is the quarantine going to last?”
“If the others are going to catch it, they’ll begin symptoms any day now. For the rest, t
he vaccinations have already taken effect.”
They had vaccinated all the construction workers, all those who worked at the boardinghouse, and anyone else who had come in contact with the immigrants. They also had notified the railroad but were not sure if there was much they could do. If the immigrants in Blessing already carried the contagion, she and Elizabeth would soon know, and they hoped any cases would not be so severe. Besides, most of them were in better health already, after eating decent food again and being off the ships for several weeks now.
“Did Mr. Gould know of anyone else in New York who had the typhoid?” Daniel asked.
“He contacted everyone he could. I’ve not heard of any more cases.” Astrid leaned against the doorjamb. “You need to get your rest.”
“I know, but I never get to visit with you. All I know is what Thorliff has told me.”
“And you better not trust all of that. He was nine when I was born, and from some things Mor has said, he wasn’t too excited about a squalling baby. Andrew was much more fun.”
“His tales of those years after his father died would tear anybody’s heart out.”
“I know. Mor and Tante Kaaren worked harder than anyone will ever really know. Mor did all the work the men usually do, and they managed to not lose the land. The day they proved it up was a celebration indeed. My far and Lars worked hard too when they joined the family, and others came to Blessing. As someone suggested at the tea the other day, we need to get the history of our town written down before people start forgetting how it all happened.”
“That’s a very good idea.” He motioned to the chair he had vacated. “Why don’t you sit down and be comfortable?”
“Oh, I will. Thank you again.”
“Good morning it is, then.” He removed his hat from the peg on the wall by the door. “If you need anything more, please let me know.”
“I will.” Astrid returned his smile and heard him walk lightly to the door and go out onto the front porch. From there he would see the lightening of the eastern horizon. She went to the window and listened. The frogs and insects had halted their chorus, and the birds had yet to begin their morning chatter. His footsteps sounded loud in the predawn silence as he made his way back to the boardinghouse. The sheer white curtains lifted in the breeze and danced around her. One of the kittens, now nearly grown, entered the room and wound around her skirt, looking up with slitted green eyes and chirping to be picked up.
A Heart for Home Page 17
