Enza

by Kristy K. James

  “Papa, you just don’t understand.” He sank down beside her on the mattress and sighed.

  “Then help me to understand, Elizabeth.” He watched as tears began to slide down her cheeks.

  “It’s Mrs. Mitchell.”

  “Mrs. Mitchell?” He asked, and finally understanding dawned.

  Mrs. Harold Mitchell, Elizabeth’s favorite teacher. The teacher who, the previous autumn, found herself divorced after her husband had run off with his young clerk, selling the house and taking the couple’s young children with him. Mrs. Mitchell, devastated at the loss of her family, had committed suicide, placing a pistol to her temple and pulling the trigger.

  “She had no rights, Papa,” Elizabeth wept into her hands. “The judge wouldn’t give the children to her, he took away her home and – well, just everything. Because Mr. Mitchell was a man, he was given the right to take everything from her.”

  “Mr. Mitchell is not a man,” Elliot muttered, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

  “I know I’ve been difficult to live with-” Elliot rolled his eyes and had to bite down hard on his lip to stop himself from heartily agreeing with that declaration. “Not all women are as fortunate as Mother. Even if you were to divorce her, you’re still an honorable man. You wouldn’t hurt her like Mr. Mitchell hurt Mrs. Mitchell. You wouldn‘t leave her with nothing. I don‘t even think you‘d take us away from her.”

  Just the thought of being apart from his Meg made Elliot shudder, even as he found himself agreeing with his daughters logic. She was right. Most husbands were decent, upstanding men who treated their wives well. It was the Harold Mitchell’s of the world that had made the movement necessary.

  “Please don’t make me stop, Papa. You have no idea how important it is.”

  “You’re wrong, Elizabeth. I understand completely. And you’ve just won my support, though I have always planned to vote for its passage. But I still can’t condone the way you’ve been treating your mother and the rest of us. It has to stop. Immediately.”

  “Yes, sir. Does that mean I can continue attending the meetings?”

  “I don’t know. Your mother is very concerned about your relationship with Edgar Perkins. He’s eight years older than you and she’s afraid that he may try to take advantage of you.”

  “Edgar?” Elizabeth gave a strangled laugh and Elliot knew that his suspicions were correct, that she was infatuated with the man. He was just as sure that the man wasn‘t interested in her as anything but one of the masses. “Edgar doesn’t even notice me. Believe me, Papa, she has nothing to worry about.”

  “I do believe you. But we have one more issue to discuss before I can make my decision, Elizabeth. That would be your attitude concerning God.”

  “God- I thought faith was a choice that even He allowed us.” Her sarcasm returned, full force.

  “That is true. But why is God so repugnant to you now? You used to like to go to church, and to sit at the table with us when we read the Bible. What’s changed your mind about Him?”

  “He’s the one who made women with no value. He’s the one who allowed men to have all the rights and women to have none.” Elliot chuckled softly at her ignorance. Yet she wasn’t alone in that. Many men believed that lie, too.

  “God did neither one of those things, Elizabeth. He created woman as a helpmate for man. He commanded men to love their wives as Christ loved the church. To love them as they love themselves. Does that sound like He intended women to have no value or rights?”

  “N-no. I guess not,” she admitted, looking at him in surprise.

  “You’re not sure? It’s right there in your Bible.” He reached past her for the Bible lying on the small table at her bedside, thumbing through it until he found one of the passages he sought. “Here it is. ‘Husbands, love your wives and be not bitter against them.’ And here’s another one. ‘Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with them according to knowledge, giving honor unto the wife, as unto the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life, that your prayers be not hindered.’ So you see, Elizabeth, God tells men their prayers may not be answered if they don’t treat their wives well.”

  “I didn’t realize, Papa.”

  “I know. That’s why I thought you should hear what He had to say on the subject.” He closed the Bible and laid it back on her table. “Men are to love, respect and cherish their wives. And, like Christ, be willing to lay down his life for her.” As he’d give his life for his own wife if the need ever arose.

  “Thank you, Papa.”

  “You’re welcome.” He hugged her tightly. “And now that we’ve cleared that up, perhaps we could come to an agreement that will satisfy everyone?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, resting her head against his shoulder.

  “What I mean is this,” he said, trying to force some sternness into his voice, and failing miserably. “If you wish to continue attending the suffrage meetings there will have to be some changes around here. First, I insist you start treating your mother better. God is also very clear on that subject. Children are to honor and respect their parents.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll try.” Elliot raised her chin so that she had to look at him and raised his brow again. “I will. I promise.”

  “That’s better. The second thing is this. You will attend church with us and participate in Bible readings without complaint.”

  “All right.” He kissed her temple.

  “Good girl. I’ll talk with your mother as soon as she returns. As long as you continue to honor those two conditions, we have a deal.”

  “Thank you, Papa!” she said, with more enthusiasm than he’d heard her express in months.

  “You’re welcome, young lady. Now we’re going to go and wait on the porch for your mother and Jonathon. I have something very important for your brother.”

  ~~~

  Colby glanced at Nina’s retreating form and then back at her very pale, distraught fiancé. As hurt and shocked as Nina had been, he suspected that this was the first argument they’d ever had. From what little he’d heard, Daniel was hurt and, in the way many men tended to react, didn’t want to have whatever it was checked out.

  Climbing down from the buggy he thought, perhaps, he might convince him to change his mind.

  “Daniel?” The young man started when Colby laid a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get you off your feet.”

  “But Nina-“

  “Son, it’s been my experience that there are occasions when a woman needs some time alone. This looks to be one of those times.”

  “But I need to apologize to her,“ he protested as Colby pulled him to the buggy. It was clear that there was something wrong with his leg, and that he was in a great deal of pain, and Colby decided he wasn’t giving him a chance to change his mind. They were heading directly to Doctor Garlington’s office.

  “Come on, let’s go.”

  After a few minutes of silence, Daniel finally turned to Colby and asked,

  “Do you think she will forgive me?”

  “What happened?”

  Slowly, with a great deal of reluctance, Daniel told him about falling on the steps at the boarding house, and how much trouble he’d been having with his leg since then.

  “So Nina wanted you to have the doctor take a look?”

  “Yes. I just don’t want to wear a splint again. It was bad enough when it was cold out. It’s going to be worse with this heat,” he muttered, sounding much like a petulant child.

  “I can see where that would be uncomfortable,” Colby commiserated, “but I’m not sure that, if it were me, I’d want to take a chance. If the bone is broken again, not having it tended to could cause it to heal badly, and then you could be in pain for the rest of your life.”

  In the end Colby didn’t have to force the issue. Daniel just sighed and asked if he could take him to Doc Garlington’s house.

  “I think that would be for the best. And look at it this way. You’re making the board happy.”<
br />
  “What?”

  “Well,” Colby said with a chuckle, “I know for a fact that some of the members on the hospital board weren’t too happy about getting a Crookes Tube. They didn’t think it would get enough use to justify the expense.”

  “I guess I proved them wrong this year.” Daniel sighed again.

  “Indeed you have.”

  ~~~

  Before she noticed him sitting on the steps, Elliot noticed that his wife looked tired. Of course her pregnancy was nearing six months so that was to be expected. But the heat was making it worse and he vowed to make sure she got more rest.

  “Elliot?” she asked when she finally noticed him. He wasn’t due home for a few more hours and he could see that she was alarmed. “What’s happened?”

  “It’s all right,” he assured her, getting to his feet as she and Jonathon approached. In just the short time since he’d returned to the store the bruising on his son’s face was even worse and Elliot felt a renewed sense of anger, and a desire to thrash those boys. Instead, he reached into his pocket and withdrew the envelope and showed it to his wife.

  “Oh my!” He caught her as she swayed. Jonathon just stood there looking from him to Richard and Elizabeth, who had been watching from the window but now came out to join them.

  “Pop?” Jonathon said hesitantly. Elliot handed him the envelope and grinned at the expression of stunned surprise on the boy’s face. “It’s from the White House.”

  “What!” Elizabeth exclaimed dubiously.

  “The White House?” Richard asked, equally uncertain.

  “Open it,” Elliot urged, still holding his wife who now fanned her face with her hand.

  Jonathon started to rip the envelope open then, thinking better of it, took out his pocket knife and carefully slit it open. With trembling hands he removed a single sheet of paper, unfolded it and read it slowly. It felt as though the whole family held their breath waiting to hear what it said and who had sent it. After a moment, Jonathon handed it to his father, his hand shaking, and Elliot read aloud,

  ‘My Dear Jonathon, On behalf of a grateful country I would like to thank you for your diligence in helping to keep the United States safe from the enemy. I would like to ask you to continue keeping an eye on Mr. Mertz and to send me a full report in two months’ time. I look forward to hearing from you again. Thank you again. Best regards, President Woodrow Wilson.’

  Even Elizabeth, who wasn’t impressed by much these days, was awed into silence. Richard looked as though he couldn’t believe that the president had written his brother. Meg was wiping her eyes with her apron, and Elliot was just so proud of his son that he thought his chest would burst with it.

  ~~~

  The sun had almost set when Reverend Thornton pulled the buggy to a stop in front of the boarding house. Telling Daniel to stay put, he jumped down and hurried up to the door, returning with a reluctant Nina a few moments later. When she caught sight of the splint, and crutches leaning against the seat, she gasped and ran to him.

  “Oh, Daniel! I’m so sorry,” she whispered, clutching his hand to her cheek.

  “No, I’m the one who needs to apologize,” he told her softly, reaching out with his other hand to stroke her hair. “I should have listened to you, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I snapped at you.”

  “It’s all right. I understand.”

  “You shouldn’t. I was such a chump, Nina. I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Chapter 11

  “Marcus? Marcus, are you still there?” Derek’s voice came over the line, across several hundred miles as clearly as though he were standing in the next room.

  “I- Uh – yeah. Yes, I’m still here,” he finally managed, wishing he had a chair nearby so he could sit down.

  “Did you hear what I just said?”

  “I heard.”

  He wiped a hand across his eyes wishing with all of his heart that he hadn’t. Thousands were dying from a particularly bad strain of the influenza that was sweeping relentlessly from the eastern coast of the United States westward. Nothing, no precautions no matter how diligently applied, seemed able to slow it. He felt the blood leave his face when Derek went on to tell him of the vast number of people who had died in a single week in the state of New York, the city of the same name being particularly hard hit.

  “If it keeps moving at the same pace, Marcus, it will be here soon. And in Michigan not long after.” He heard his friend sigh deeply. “We’re not prepared for anything like this. There aren’t enough undertakers in the whole of Philadelphia to take care of the bodies if we get hit like New York did.”

  “What will you do?” Marcus asked, reluctantly, slumping back against the wall. If Derek and the others in Philadelphia weren’t prepared, what would happen in Charlotte if it reached this far. It couldn’t reach this far. Could it?

  “We all met a few nights ago and we’re trying to keep it as quiet as possible so we don’t cause a panic, you know. But each and every one of us have ordered as many pine boxes built as we can afford. I’ve spent nearly all of my savings and it makes me ill just thinking about it. Seventy-five caskets, Marcus. And that’s only what I ordered.”

  “Won’t your builders be suspicious?” he asked after a moment’s silence.

  “We had to be honest with them. They know it’s on its way. It’s all over the newspapers. And they know what will happen if the general public discovers that we’re preparing for the deaths of thousands. So they’re keeping quiet. Not that it really matters because everyone knows it’s coming. They just try to pretend that it won’t come here.”

  “It doesn’t seem possible,” Marcus almost whispered.

  “Oh it’s possible,” Derek laughed, but there was no humor in it. “There have been returning soldiers heard to say that it’s all but wiped out small villages overseas.” After a lengthy pause he added, fear lacing his voice, “Some people are wondering if this might not be the plagues written about in Revelation. They’re afraid this is the end, Marcus.”

  Marcus swallowed hard and closed his eyes tightly as he asked, “Do you think it’s the end, Derek?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I did. All I can say, friend, is to make sure you’re prepared. As best you can be anyway. If someone doesn’t find a way to stop it, it’s going to be on your doorstep before you can blink twice.”

  “How can this be happening?” he asked, knowing that even as he did, there was no answer.

  “Marcus. What if the worst were to happen to Amanda and me?”

  “Don’t say that!” Marcus exclaimed, stiffening his spine as he came away from the wall. “Nothing is going to happen to you or Amanda.”

  “I have to think about it, Marcus. Her parents are gone and my mother has all she can do to take care of my father. He’s getting worse every day.” No one knew what was wrong with Edgar McGovern, except that he appeared to be wasting away before their very eyes. No treatment or medicine had helped. “My brothers all have families of their own, as do Amanda’s. There’s no one else we can ask.”

  “Ask?” Ask who what? Marcus wondered, snapping out of his stupor and giving his full attention to his friend.

  “You remember the promise we made in college.” It wasn’t a question and he swallowed hard.

  “Yes.” It was the hardest word he’d ever had to utter.

  “Will you keep it?”

  “Nothing is going to happen,” he assured Derek with all the force he could muster.

  “But if it does, will you honor your word?”

  “You know that I will,” he swore. And prayed that the need to keep it would never come.

  “Thank you,” Derek said softly. “I need to go now. I’m late for supper. But I didn’t want to call from home. I didn’t want Amanda to overhear.”

  “I understand.”

  “Take care, Marcus. I’ll keep you posted on what’s happening out this way. Just whatever you do, be careful, okay?”

&n
bsp; “You, too,” Marcus said, and hung his telephone up when Derek ended the call.

  Without conscious thought, he walked out to his porch, clutching the railing as he bent over and sucked in several deep breaths of the crisp autumn air. Try as he might, he couldn’t get his mind to accept the devastating news he’d just received. Maybe this was just a bad dream. A nightmare that he’d wake up from shortly and laugh at his fears.

  Yet he knew it wasn’t a dream. A nightmare? Definitely. But it was real. He, too, had heard stories about the vicious influenza sweeping the earth, and had hoped they were nothing more than rumors. But they were real. And it was coming this way.

  He took one last deep breath then straightened and looked around at the houses in his neighborhood. If it reached Charlotte, would he have any neighbors left? Would he survive?

  Shaking his head as though to clear it, he strode back inside and into his office. Sitting at the desk, he pulled open the top drawer and took out his savings book, a sheet of paper and a pencil. After determining exactly what he had to spend he walked back over to the telephone, signaling the operator that he needed to make a call.

  “Roland Lumber,” came the greeting from Andrew Roland’s assistant several seconds later.

  “This is Marcus McClelland. May I speak to Andrew please?”

  “Certainly. One moment please.” It wasn’t long before Andrew’s voice came over the line.

  “Marcus! Good to hear from you. What can I do for you today?”

  “I need to order thirty-six pine caskets, Andrew. And I’d like them delivered as quickly as possible.”

  “You want what? Thirty-six caskets!” His booming laugh forced Marcus to move he earpiece slightly away. “I never realized you had a sense of humor, Marcus,” Andrew chuckled. “Now how many do you really want?”