Dara

by AnonYMous

  Waving an arm upwards he exclaimed with a certain amount of pride, And up there, extending right across the front, will be a large dashboard emblazoned withHealth Institutionsupported in small lettering by the wordsDr Shepherd-Medical Consultant. And here on the left will be a raised platform upon which you will perform your Egyptian dance.'

  'My what!' I exclaimed in astonishment.

  “There is no need for concern, my dear. What I am going to ask you to do in helping me with this business is well within your capabilities. Indeed, you will enjoy your work here and find it most interesting.'

  When we got back to his office hut I told him to dismiss from his mind any ideas he had about me and an Egyptian dance.

  All I got from him was, 'Yes, yes, my dear.'

  He rose from his desk and began to search for something inside a large trunk, exclaiming after removing various volumes, Ah, here it is, the book of Shakespeare.' Turning the pages rapidly he came to what he was looking for, muttering to himself, 'Romeo and Juliet.'

  He brought the open book over to me and pointed to a certain passage saying, 'Read that out loud and speak the lines with feeling.'

  While I was looking at the passage, he asked, 'Do you know the love story of Romeo and Juliet?'

  I told him I had read the play, but had never seen it in a theatre.

  'Very well. Just imagine you are Juliet. A Juliet who has become disillusioned with her nurse and answers her with indignation.'

  Ancient damnation!' I exclaimed dramatically.

  'No, no,' he interrupted. 'Say it again and this time with a great deal more exasperation in your voice.'

  He was right, of course, and this time I tried to feel as Juliet must have felt on that occasion. My emotions took over and found expression in the words:

  '“Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!

  Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,

  Or to dispraise my Lord with that same tongue

  Which she has praised him with above compare

  So many thousand times? Go, counsellor!

  Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.”

  When I had finished the reading I looked at him, not knowing what to expect.

  He smiled. 'Just what I thought; you have a sense of the dramatic. Unlike me, you are a born performer. Because of shyness, most of us hold back-afraid of making fools of ourselves.'

  Taking the book of Shakespeare from me and replacing it in the trunk he commented, 'In early childhood we are all natural performers, accepting the laughter and the amusement we create as appreciation. As we grow older we fear the laughter of those observing our antics. It is sad, but the truth is that we have learned the meaning of ridicule.'

  He took hold of my hands and brought me to my feet. 'It is time to eat. We will adjourn to “The Dog's Head” where I will explain how you will work with me to make my health institution a success.'

  During our time at the tavern and in the days that followed I got more details of how the health institution was to function and what part I was to play as the doctor's assistant.

  With the aid of burnt cork and greasepaint I was to appear on the platform as a dusky maiden, dressed up in garments of many colours. An Egyptian princess, so everyone would be informed, who had brought with her remedies that had been passed down through the centuries from the temple priests of ancient Egypt.

  The Barker, whom I was yet to meet, would commence the proceedings by beating loudly on a drum and only cease when he considered that we had a large enough crowd of people assembled to see my dance. The doctor informed me that he was leaving the movement of the dance to my imagination and he would be satisfied with whatever I did, providing it was bewitching and in good taste. There was some talk of providing me with some music to accompany the dance. After my performance the Barker would take over, going into a long discourse about the wondrous cures that Dr Lionel Shepherd had for the many complaints and ills that inflicted mankind. After all that preamble it was hoped that patients would line up outside the doctor's consulting rooms.

  Two weeks before the health institution was due to open I made the acquaintance of the doctor's other assistant. Bob Deny, who was to be the Clerk and Barker to our establishment. About the same height as myself, he wore a black-tailed coat with a velvet collar. His cloth boots with shiny leather toes didn't seem to be in keeping with the coat and the glossy, black hair, brushed close to his skull and neatly parted down the middle. A quick-witted, smooth-talking, restless young man, always on the move, darting about here and there. I was attracted by his bright and breezy manner, but resented his easy familiarity on such short acquaintance.

  Under Dr Shepherd's supervision we spent the two weeks mixing herbs and bottling medicines. We worked long hours and, although my hands got sore and my arms ached, I had an enthusiasm and interest in all the preparations. Among the many things I learned were that field horsetail can be useful as a treatment for ulcers and skin eruptions; a syrup made from onions cures coughs and colds; balm is good for a poor digestion and aids sleeplessness; and salt and onions pounded together cure chilblains. I was particularly interested in a mixture of camomile, elder and fennel for the complexion. According to the doctor there was a remedy with herb mixtures for almost every ailment known to man. As a diversion from my labours, I trained two snow-white doves to fly to my hands for grains of corn when I cried out 'Oy! Oy! Oy!' This was to be the grand finale to my performance out front.

  It was during this period that I renewed my friendship with Vladimir Aksakov. Apologizing for the shabby way I had treated him when I was grieving over Elmer's departure, I nevertheless made it clear to him that any amorous advances would not be welcomed. After a short talk on the subject I think he began to understand that my heart still belonged to Elmer and that the very thought of being bedded by another man made me feel sick. I expressed the hope that we could continue our cordiality as I valued his friendship and concern for my welfare. It was good to be in his company again and, as always, his mountainous laughter blew away any unhappy thoughts. He had an avid interest in what was going on at the health institution and was often there in the evenings, helping out in all sorts of ways with the preparations for opening day. When I expressed doubts about masquerading as a dusky princess, Vladimir backed the doctor's persuasive argument, saying, it is a sin against nature to be solitary and idle.'

  When a thousand handbills had been distributed throughout the town to announce that an Egyptian princess, with magical ancient cures for all ailments, would open the health institution the following Saturday evening, it was impossible for me to withdraw from my commitment.

  We were all on tenterhooks on the day. Bob Deny the Barker, a restless personality at any time, was anxiously checking details to make sure everything was in order for the moment when our first patients would enter the institution. I was constantly running to a mirror to comb my hair and pat it into position. My head was crowned with a thin gilt band of metal from which arose a fleur-de-lis of white feathers held at the front by a large, jewelled clasp that twinkled like a star. I wore a high-necked, white silk gown decorated with two, inch-wide rings of sparkling sequins encircling each of my breasts. The gown was slit at the sides from hem to mid-thigh to allow free movement for the dance. The mixture of burnt cork and greasepaint applied freely to my hands, legs and face made me almost unrecognizable, even to my best friends. The gown was a perfect fit; gazing into the mirror, I really did feel like a princess. The doctor had very firm ideas about the design of the gown and had employed the best seamstress in town to make it.

  Bob Derry came up to reassure me that I was a 'most beautiful princess' and a 'credit to all concerned'. But it was only an excuse to fondle my bum as he looked over my shoulder into the mirror.

  Pushing him off me, I told him in no uncertain terms to keep his hands to himself. I was shaking with nervous agitation and biting my lower lip anxiously as I waited for the moment when I would have to ascend to the platform outside. Bob
chided me on my nervousness, telling me that I had nothing to worry about. In an effort to distract me from my fears, he asked, 'Have you heard this limerick?' and then proceeded to recite for my ears only:

  'There was a young girl all afire

  Who succumbed to her lover's desire.

  She said, “I know it's a sin

  But now that it's in,

  Could you shove it a few inches higher.”'

  It broke the tension and I started to giggle and couldn't stop. If that was his intention he certainly succeeded for, when the doors opened a moment later, I flew up the steps to the platform as if I hadn't a care in the world and faced the small group of people assembled at the front of the building. I had expected to be the butt of coarse and salacious comments from some of the men but I found that one look of disgust and disapproval wiped the lechery from their faces.

  Bob remained at ground level, beating ferociously on a big drum. The noise was deafening, and certainly brought people from far and wide to swell the small crowd who stood gaping at me in my princess attire. They jostled, pushed and scuffled to get a better view of this dusky maiden from the far away land of Egypt. Bob, now satisfied that the audience for our performance was of the right proportions, ceased beating the drum and took from his pocket a little flute and began to play a lively tune that set my feet a-dancing.

  The music of the flute had a compelling rhythm and I had no difficulty in keeping step with it. Swaying my hips seductively caused the men in front of me, with lolling tongues and goggling eyes, to gape avidly each time they caught a glimpse of my legs. It was an alluring dance that at times bordered on the indecent as I languorously flaunted my feminine charms.

  I had prepared myself for ribald comments from my audience, but there were none. They were hushed into silence from the moment I began to dance. Among the gawping onlookers were men who worked at Chicago's main industrial plants such as James S. Kirk amp; Company, the soap manufacturers who supplied the health institution with its own medicinal soap. Also, there were industrial workers from the McCormick Harvesting Machine Company, the Booth Packing Company, which was the largest supplier of cans in the world, and a few doleful drunks from Henry H. Shudelt's distillery. There were seamen from the ships docked nearby and several country men from the backwoods who were in Chicago to sample the delights and attractions of the town.

  With a tender smile on my lips I turned and swirled as if in a trance, occasionally glancing invitingly out of the corner of my eyes at some section of the onlookers. My eyes promised heaven knows what so that every man might think that I was dancing for him alone. For the first time in my life I was on show, performing to an appreciative audience and I was enjoying every moment of it. To finish the dance I spun around like a top. I was spinning so madly that my gown swirled out to reveal my legs almost to the fullness of my thighs. Coming to a sudden halt, I sank to the boards only to arise just as quickly to my full height with arms outstretched, shouting, 'Oy! Oy! Oy!' Right on cue, the white doves fluttered through the doorway to alight gracefully on my hands for the grains of corn I held for them. As I stood there with hands holding the doves high above my head, there were loud calls and enthusiastic handclapping for this grand finale to my performance. But I wasted no time in getting down the steps and into the institution for it was Bob's turn now to entertain and cajole the crowd.

  The doctor was proud of my performance and told me so as soon as I entered the building. We stood together, hiding behind the door, full of curiosity and eager to see how Bob, in his role as the Barker, would make out in his efforts to turn idle spectators into patients.

  I missed the first few words of his speech but caught up with his praises of the doctor. 'We are indeed fortunate that Dr Lionel Shepherd, a physician who is respected and honoured by all the medical profession, should choose to establish his health institution in Chicago when people of quality and wealth in New York, Boston, Washington and many other cities are crying out for the benefits of his great knowledge and wisdom on all medical matters.

  'Dr Shepherd has travelled far and wide in his search for remedies for the ailments that plague mankind and has visited many countries to consult with other famous doctors. In Egypt he met Princess Fatima who has just performed before your very eyes one of the sacred temple dances that, until today, had been witnessed only by the priests at their secret religious ceremonies. He persuaded her to accompany him back to America for she holds in her memory efficacious magical cures written on ancient scrolls stored in the temple vaults.

  'Dr Shepherd is a graduate of Columbia College where he took the Literate and Scientific Course.'

  'Can he cure madness?' a man shouted out loud from the crowd.

  'Why? Are you mad, sir?' asked Bob.

  'No, but I have a young son of five years who is undoubtedly mad.'

  'In what form does he show his madness?' asked Bob who obviously enjoyed swapping badinage and welcomed the interruption as further entertainment for his audience.

  In all earnestness the man in the crowd answered, 'He throws stones at neighbours and at poultry. He rides on the backs of hogs and suffers much bodily harm when he falls off.'

  'Is that all?' asked Bob.

  'No, there is something else. He is forever pissing in the milk pails.'

  The crowd roared with laughter. I couldn't help admiring the way our Barker, nothing daunted, recaptured the interest of the people listening to him.

  'Sir, you can do no better than bring your son for a free consultation with Dr Shepherd-but don't bring the milk pails. We only drink pure milk in this establishment.'

  Then, pitching his voice so that everyone could hear him, 'That is something you will get from no other doctor in Chicago. Free consultations. Everyone is welcome; there is no charge for consultations, only for the remedies.'

  Hardly stopping for breath and never at a loss for words, he went on, 'If you are having spasms of the bowel, and who doesn't from time to time, we have an antispasmodic pill made of extract of camomile, yarrow, oil of nutmegs, castor and saffron that will cure you of that painful complaint.'

  He paused for a moment. 'There is a gentleman over there taking notes. A lot of good that will do for him, for only Dr Shepherd knows how much of each ingredient is needed to make up the pill. Don't delay — this is the day for your free consultation with the good Dr Shepherd. We have remedies for baldness, gentlemen-by the way, it is gentlemen only this evening. The afternoons are reserved for the ladies who will have the benefit of our wondrous Electropathic Machine. Now line up for our free consultations.'

  While the men were lining up he continued, 'Under Dr Shepherd's treatment, thousands have changed from weakly, sickly, suffering creatures to strong, healthy and happy men and women. Our “Princess” soap cures all kinds of sores, cuts, boils, erysipelas, sties, sore lips and many other skin complaints, at a special low price of one dollar until stocks run out. Now, come on, line up for your free, yes free, consultations.'

  The doctor was kept busy moving through a connecting door from one consulting room to the other for the next three hours. After he had questioned and examined each patient he would hand them a note on which was written their name, the ailment that the doctor had diagnosed and the remedy recommended. When the patient was dressed he would take this note to Bob Derry who, now in his official role as Clerk and Medical Assistant, stood behind a long table loaded with boxes of pills, tins of salve, powders and bottles of medicine.

  To keep the interest of those waiting to be served and the men in line for the consulting rooms, the walls of the institution were covered in colourful pictures depicting in most gruesome details diseases and afflictions that the body was subjected to. The most horrific were the venereal pictures. These were entitledThe Dreadful Retribution of a Social Vice. Another picture showed a young man with spotted face, hollowed cheeks, eyes red and filled with tears to the point of blindness. The picture was entitledThe Retribution of the Solitary Vice and the Evil Hand.


  While Bob filled with dollars the cloth bag hanging from his waist, and handed out the remedies recommended on the patients' notes, I stood by in my regalia as the Egyptian princess ready to fetch from the mixing room something not already on the table.

  I was ready to sink to the floor with weariness as the last patient departed from the building. The doctor stumbled from one of the consulting rooms haggard with exhaustion.

  Bob, busy counting the dollars he had extracted from his bag, seemed to be unaffected by the hectic hours we had all been through. Making a notation on a pad of paper, he looked at the doctor then at me. 'I am not the doctor at this establishment,' he announced, 'but may I take the liberty of prescribing a large glass of brandy for each of us?'

  Doctor Shepherd took the hint. Walking, with drooping shoulders, to his private office he returned with glasses and a bottle of brandy. As we sat sipping the brandy Bob Derry continued his counting. When he had finished there was a broad smile on his face. 'This should put new life into you,' he announced loudly. 'We've taken one-hundred-and-seventy-three dollars on our first day.'

  I don't know if it was the brandy or the taking of one-hundred-and-seventy-three dollars, but there was now a lot more colour in the doctor's face and the haggard look had been replaced by a smiling, cheerful expression. 'The omens are good. It looks as if we are going to be a success,' he said. Taking his handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the sweat from his brow. 'I say “we” deliberately, because I couldn't have done it without your most valuable assistance.' He stood up and looked at his watch. 'There's still time to celebrate with food and drink at “The Dog's Head”. Clean that greasepaint from your face, Dara, and change your dress for something more respectable. And you, Bob, clear away that table while I put the dollars in a safe place.'

  During the weeks that followed we fell into an easy routine of work. Whilst the pace was never as hectic as on our opening day, the health institution continued to draw enough patients to make it extremely profitable. Early in our acquaintance the doctor had told me that he had not only sunk every dollar he had into setting up the institution, but had also borrowed heavily to meet the cost of the building. He had risked everything on this venture and was immensely relieved that he would be free of the debt within a few months of opening the health institution.