by Barbara Goss
Susannah continued to scream—were these men the Indians? The thought horrified her and she screamed even louder, and kicked at them with all her might. The men bound her arms and legs tightly, and she found herself unable to move, but she could still scream.
The next thing she knew, ice-cold water had been thrown onto her, over and over, wave after wave, until her trembles had turned to shivers. At last she stopped screaming, but her teeth would not stop chattering, but instead of handing her a blanket, the men continued to throw ice water at her. She sputtered, and spit out the water that went into her mouth.
That was when she realized she must be in the south wing.
The men were about to throw another bucket of water on her, but a voice halted them.
“Stop!” another man yelled. “Can’t you see she’s already calmed down? When the patient has been calmed, you need to stop. Now, go and fetch some blankets.”
Susannah was sure her lips had turned blue; she’d never been this cold in her life. The man who had saved her from further ice water assaults came closer, took the blankets from the other men, and wrapped them around her.
He dried a nearby chair and sat down beside her. “You’re all right now. Just relax.”
His voice was soothing. Her teeth were still chattering, but she nodded anyway, grateful for his intervention. At last she began started to feel the effects of the blankets, and slowly began to stop her shivering. She closed her eyes. She felt exhausted.
“What happened?” the kind man asked.
All Susannah could do was shake her head.
He gave orders to the two other men, who were wearing white coats, to bring her a glass of water, remove the straightjacket, put her to bed, and lock the door for the night.
The doctor gave her a pill with the glass of water. “Here—this will help you to calm down and get some sleep.”
She swallowed the pill and drank the water.
The kind man said to Susannah, “I’ll be back to see you in the morning. I’ll read what's in your file, and see what I can do to help you. Please try to stay calm until I return. I’d hate for them to have to throw more cold water on you, or put you in the box. For your own sake, please try to stay calm,” and then he turned, and walked out the door.
The two men removed the jacket they had put on her, and unbound her hands so that she could once again move. They untied her legs, which had been tied with a sheet, and while one mopped up the floor, another led her to a room down the hall, much like the one she’d had on the north wing.
Still wrapped in blankets, Susannah moved toward the bed. Despite the noise of the other patients screaming and hollering, she collapsed onto the bed, and fell fast asleep.
In the morning, a tray was brought in with her breakfast. Her meal consisted of a bowl of sticky oatmeal, a glass of orange juice, and two slices of buttered toast. She ate the toast, and drank the juice, but pushed the oatmeal away.
The floor seemed quieter this morning than it had last night. This was surely a noisy floor. Some of the screaming made her a bit anxious, but all she had to do was look at the bars on the windows, and she felt safe, especially knowing her door was locked.
Another man wearing a white coat took her tray away and locked her door behind him after he’d left.
Susannah still felt tired, so she lay back down, and was almost asleep again when she jerked awake at the sound of the lock being opened. She sat up straight to see that the kind man from last night had entered her room. This time, he also wore a white jacket, but he had a nametag on his lapel and he carried a small medical bag.
He sat down and motioned to the chair beside him. “Would you do me the honor of sitting with me?”
She took the seat, and looked up at him expectantly. He was young and handsome but he hadn’t noticed that last night, owing to her panic. His looks made her feel self-conscious, and her hand went to her matted auburn hair, which she knew had to be a horrible mess.
“How do you feel today, Susannah?” he asked as he removed a folder from his bag.
“All right, I guess,” she said.
“My name is Dr. Carter Harding, and I see you are Susannah Baker, is that right?”
She nodded.
“I was surprised to see that no one evaluated you when you first were admitted. A few heads will roll over this. I’d like to do the evaluation now. Do you feel up to it?” he asked.
She nodded. His voice was so soothing—how could she refuse?
“Can you tell me why you’re here?”
Susannah shrugged. “I’m not sure.” She massaged her temples. “My cousin’s wife put me here. She thinks I’m crazy, but I’m not. I’m just—it’s been horrible. No one understands what I've been through.” With that statement, Susannah broke down and cried.
Dr. Harding stood up, and put his hand on her shoulder and patted it lightly.
“Perhaps we’ll do the evaluation tomorrow,” he said looking down at her.
Susannah looked up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, that were plainly full of sympathy.
She nodded.
After he left, she ran to the mirror over the washbowl and gasped. Last night her hair had been sopping wet, then she’d slept on it while still wet, and now her hair was standing up on end in some places, and flat in others. She had no comb. She stuck her head into the washbowl and tried to comb the wet hair with her fingers.
A colored lady opened her locked door and walked in with a bucket and mop.
“Mornin,’” she called cheerfully. “I’ll jest be a few minutes, darlin’”.
Susannah watched the woman mopping the floor. She thought she had a lovely, warm smile. She wondered about the things this woman must see working on this wing every day.
“Excuse me,” Susannah said to the woman. “Do you work just on this wing?”
“Usually, yes. Sometimes they float me, but usually, this is my area, sweetie.”
Susannah smiled at her. She was the first female to show her any kindness in so long.
“Are you allowed to go to other wings? I mean, go there, even if you aren’t assigned to that area?” she asked.
The woman leaned on her mop, a thoughtful expression on her round, jovial face. “I sure can. What you be needin’?”
“I need to let a man named Ben, on the north wing, know that I’m all right. He’s bound to be worried about me. He’s usually in the sitting room, playing solitaire.”
“I’ll trot myself on over that way later today. Ben, you say? I’ll remember that name, and I’ll surely tell him for ya,” she said with a bright smile.
She backed out of the room, winked, and then Susannah heard her turn the key in the lock.
Later that day, a man brought her things from the north wing. She could now comb her hair, and put on a clean dress.
A man wearing a suit brought in her dinner tray, which only served to both surprise and scare Susannah. He stood there in front of her for several seconds before speaking.
““I’m Hillyer Clawson, Hospital Administrator. I’ve heard that you weren't properly evaluated upon your admittance, and I apologize for that. I’ll be sure to have someone do that immediately. I'd hate for anyone to hear about this and think us derelict in our duties—we do pride ourselves on our efficiency here. It was actually a minor, mishap owing to the doctor being out ill the day you came in. Can I trust you won’t mention it to anyone?”
Susannah nodded. “But Dr. Harding knows about it.”
“Dr. Harding, yes, he’s the one who raised he-- well, he wasn’t pleased.”
“I won’t say anything.”
“Good. Thank you. I’ll see that you’re evaluated immediately,” he announced before leaving.
After dinner, a counselor visited Susannah. He carried a folder, and gave Susannah a warm smile that put her instantly at ease, long before he sat down in the chair beside her.
“I’m here to evaluate you. I ask that you tell me as much as you are able. This will go a long w
ay toward seeing that you’re placed in the correct wing and receive the best care for your condition,” he said.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“My cousin’s wife thinks I’m crazy, but she has no clue what I’ve witnessed. It’s difficult to even talk about it,” she said, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. “Must I?”
“You must, I’m afraid,” he said.
“I…Indians attacked…I was…” she sobbed into her handkerchief, the visions from that day reappeared in her mind’s eye. “I was in the cornfield and witnessed my family—”
“And you were the only one spared?”
She nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes with a shaking hand. “I was in the cornfield, collecting corn.”
“Then you went to live with a cousin who brought you in. This that right?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Now I understand what caused you to panic during the Thanksgiving dinner. The play had people dressed as Indians. They weren’t real, but I can understand your reaction to it, nevertheless. Had we known…”
The man continued asking her questions, mostly about how she felt about different things. He scribbled everything down into his folder as she spoke. When he was finished with her, he stood.
“I’ll see that Dr. Harding gets the results of the evaluation. You did very well, Susannah. I’m sorry I had to bring up such bad memories, but it was necessary,” he said. “Good day.”
Chapter 5
Dr. Harding sat across from Susannah with the ankle of one leg resting on the knee of his other leg, and the folder opened on his lap. He sat for a moment scanning the notes.
“Did you, by any chance, live near Oberlin, Kansas?
Susannah nodded, wondering how he could know that. She must have had a puzzled look on her face, because he explained.
“I remember that, in September, there was an Indian attack in that vicinity. There are so few attacks these days, that I was shocked to hear about it. I’m sorry this had to happen to you, Susannah, and I understand the shock you’ve suffered but, I don’t think you belong in the south wing.”
“Can I can go back to where I was, then?” she asked.
“Perhaps. I need to know a bit more about you so that I can better help you. Tell me about the nightmares.”
“I have them almost every night.”
“What do you see?”
“Them. The painted faces. I was in the cornfield, and after the—what happened—they rode right by me. I was petrified. One of them dropped something and stopped right in front of me, to pick it up. I saw his painted face clearly.” She teared up and began to tremble.
“All right,” he said gently, “I can see this is upsetting for you, and I can easily understand that.” He smiled. “Let's talk about something else. Tell me about Susannah.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” she said. “I celebrated my eighteenth birthday in a dirty room at my cousin’s house, where I felt unwanted and unwelcomed. They brought me here when they said my nightmares interrupted their sleep.”
Susannah couldn’t take her eyes off of the doctor. His hair was as black as the centers of the black-eyed Susans growing in the field near her old home. He had bright, blue eyes, the color of the sky on a warm summer day, that gleamed when he smiled. There was something about him that instilled a trust in her that she couldn’t explain.
He visited her every day, and every time he came he gave her a little white pill to take. She liked the pill because it made her relax and feel less stressed.
Susannah came to look forward to his visits, and she thought that perhaps he enjoyed them, too, because he always seemed so cheerful and reluctant to leave. Or was that just wishful thinking on her part? The pill he gave her made her so much more aware of her surroundings and her feelings, so the next time Dr. Harding visited, she asked him about the pill.
“The pill you give me has helped me to think clearly and relax. What is it?”
“It’s just powdered laudanum, and every couple of days I give you a slightly smaller dose, as it can be addictive, and I want to wean you off of them soon, so don’t get too used to them,” he said. “I can see that they’re helping you, and I’m glad.”
“I’ll miss them,” she said.
“You won’t. I take good care of my patients,” he said with a smile. “You’ll see.”
She returned his smile.
“Have you been out of this room at all since you arrived?” he asked.
“No.”
“I’ll remedy that as well. Come.” He stood and held out his arm. “Let me escort you outside. It’s a lovely day for a stroll, don’t you think?” He took her overcoat down from the hook near the door and held it out to her.
Susannah took the coat, smiled, put her arm on his and let him lead her down the corridor and out the side door—and without a pass.
The mid-morning sun felt warm on her back as he led her to a bench. The smell of hydrangeas, planted alongside the building, wafted in the air.
She sighed. It felt good to be outdoors.
She was nowhere near the place where she’d sat with Ben, as that was on the other side of the hospital. After walking around for several minutes, he finally led her to a bench beneath a large oak tree, where he regaled her with humorous stories about his youth.
He'd grown up in St. Louis, where his father had owned a livery. He'd spent most of his time growing up, watching the animal doctors who came to tend to the health of the horses. After a while, he knew he wanted to be a doctor.
“It felt good to make a sick animal better, but I decided to treat people rather than animals though because an animal doctor often has to put animals down, and I could never do that,” he said.
Susannah thought that statement fit in with what she knew of him so far, that he was a sympathetic man.
“I’ve only been here at this hospital for eighteen months, and I still don’t feel like this is where I belong. I can’t seem to make enough people better here. It seems like a hopeless pursuit most of the time,” he said sadly.
“You’ve helped me,” Susannah said.
He smiled. “I have, and it makes me feel good that I could. You were one of the easier patients, though.”
“Can I ask you something, Dr. Harding?”
“Of course.”
“How does one go about getting out of this hospital?”
“You have to plead with the local court. Usually, a doctor will assist in the plea on your behalf. Why do you ask? I don’t think you’re ready to leave yet, Susannah.”
“I was asking for my friend on the north wing. His name is Ben. He’s been here for over six years and seems fine to me, but he can’t get released,” she said.
“Ah, Ben! I know who you mean. The soldier. I spoke with him a few times, but he’s now with another doctor. If you’d like, I could take a look at his file and see if it's possible to get him released.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful,” she said.
“Is Ben…um…someone special to you?” he asked.
Susannah didn’t know how to answer. She certainly didn’t have romantic feelings for Ben, but she liked him…a lot.
“He’s a friend. He looked out for me when I was sort of lost in a cloud. He’s a nice man.”
“In that case, I’ll do whatever I can for him,” he said with a smile that warmed her heart.
“Do you have a wife or someone special to look after you?” she asked, truly wanting to know, but trying to make sound like general conversation.
“I was courting a woman, a wonderful woman, for about a year, but she died of pneumonia while I was away at college. I have so many regrets about that courtship. Should I have married her, and not gone away to college? If I had, would she still be alive? I would have taken better care of her than her stepmother and stepsister had, that’s for sure.”
Susannah noticed the sadness on his face when he talked about this woman.
“What was her name?”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said. “I know the feeling well.”
Dr. Harding put his hand over hers. “It gets better, Susannah. The pain slowly ebbs, leaving only fond memories in its place.”
Carter gazed into her lovely green eyes and felt something deep inside that he’d never felt before, not even for Hope. He knew it was probably the result of sympathy, for he did sincerely feel sorry for Susannah. She’d seen something so horrible, it could never be completely erased from her memory.
He’d asked her, in one of their sessions, if she’d seen her family’s slaughter, and she said she hadn’t, but she did heard their screams, and had seen their lifeless bodies being carried out when a neighbor had buried them.
The hospital had strict rules about fraternizing with the patients, but he felt comfortable with Susannah, and he truly liked her. He’d have to take care not to break the hospital rules or spent too much more time with her than he did the other patients, difficult as that may be. He knew she was not insane, but that she suffered from a severe shock that would soon pass.
If anyone questioned his outings with her, he’d simply say it was to help her to mentally adjust to the world again, which was the truth. When he was with her, he watched her carefully as she took in the flowers, the birds, and the few fluffy clouds in the sky. It was almost as if she were seeing them for the first time.
He congratulated himself for having suggested the outings, as it was just what she had needed.
“I think,” he said gazing down at Susannah, “that we should head back inside, but I’ll seriously consider continuing this outdoor therapy, maybe every day.”
He received the biggest smile yet from her and it gave his heart a pleasurable thump.
“I’d love that,” she said.
“Then consider it like the little pill—part of your treatment,” he said.
“Will I ever get out of here?” she asked.
“I‘m sure you will. You’re merely suffering from a severe shock. When you’ve recovered, I’ll do everything in my power to get you released.”
