The doctor walked past the dining room, his face grim. After Miss Olive had seen him out the front door, the girls gathered round, risking being late and having their pay docked.
“What did he say?”
“He has narrowed it down to one of two things but is still not clear. It’s either a bad case of rheumatic fever or something called poliomyelitis. Let’s hope it’s rheumatic.” Miss Olive looked meaningfully at the girls. “The doctor heard of two cases of polio down in Rutland: a farm boy who is paralyzed and won’t walk again; another, well, they’re still waiting to see if he recovers. His infection attacked the muscles used in swallowing and breathing. Very serious.”
“When will the doctor know about Sadie?” Briar asked, relieved the illness was confirmed to be a case of something going around and not from the spindle.
Before Miss Olive could answer, Mim said, “We share a bed. And Briar helped carry her here. Is it catchy? Are we going to get it, too?”
“How are you feeling, Mim? Briar? Any symptoms?”
They both shook their heads.
“We’ll keep an eye on everyone who has been in contact with Sadie for the last few days; it’s all we can do for you. Meanwhile, we’ll watch her and see how the illness progresses. Within a day or two we should know what she has. The symptoms of rheumatic fever and polio are similar to start with, but if it is polio, it may or may not permanently affect her limbs.”
“Poliomyelitis?” Mary asked. “What is that?”
“Isn’t polio the sleeping sickness?” Mim asked. “We’ve never had that in the valley before.”
The sleeping sickness.
It had to be a coincidence. Sadie wasn’t sleeping under a curse, she was ill. A doctor had visited and noted the symptoms. It couldn’t be the spindle. It couldn’t.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Briar sped out the door and flew down the stairs when a movement on the porch caught her eye and made her stop. She turned around to see Wheeler standing near the bench, his hands shoved in his pockets. She retraced her steps, noting his furrowed brow. With a pang, she wondered if he had ever worried about her like that.
The front door continued to open and close behind them as the mill girls rushed past in a hurry to get back to work. They pushed Briar aside and she stumbled toward Wheeler.
“Hi,” Briar said. “The doctor’s been to see Sadie. The news isn’t good.” She started to reach out to touch his arm but quickly stopped herself.
“I figured that was him leaving. What did he say?” His voice came out even, controlled.
“He thinks it’s either rheumatic fever or polio. We’ll know for certain in a few days, but he’s leaning toward polio.” Briar paused. “There’ve been two other cases reported.”
Wheeler nodded, his expression unreadable. Then he rubbed his neck and sat down on the bench. “Polio? That’s serious. One of the mechanics told me his cousin had it. Now the kid can barely walk. Sadie could be paralyzed for life or…or die.”
“I’m sorry.” It was all she could think of to say. Ethel said Sadie was in a lot of pain, but she didn’t want to tell Wheeler that. There was nothing he could do to help Sadie anyway. “They’re keeping her comfortable, best they can, and Miss Olive is a good nursemaid.”
He nodded again then slid over to make room for her. Briar sat tentatively on the edge of the bench, trying not to think about the nickname the girls had for this seat. The courting bench. She also tried to ignore the curious looks the girls were giving as they rushed by on the street on the way back to work.
“We had good times, didn’t we?” he said, smiling at her.
“We did.” Briar couldn’t smile back. This wasn’t exactly how she wanted to become friends again with Wheeler—because Sadie fell ill. Why did life have to be so complicated sometimes?
“You’re a sweet girl, Briar. My mam was gunning for us to be wed. Being you’re Irish and all.”
He kept looking straight ahead and Briar still couldn’t read his expression. What is he feeling?
“Seems like I messed that up, didn’t I?” he said. And then, “Do you think Sadie will get better?”
“Of course she will,” Briar said, not knowing what else to say. “Give her a few days.”
“But what if she’s paralyzed?”
“Well, she’ll work around it, then. That’s what people do.” Briar didn’t want to think about what would happen if Sadie didn’t recover.
“I guess.” He didn’t look convinced. “I’m leaving soon, for Burlington. Don’t know if you heard they want me to help get the new mill up and running over there. Sadie’s going to stay here.”
Oh. “I-I had heard something about that. Congratulations. You’re onto a new step in your plan.”
He squinted at her. “You remember that?”
“It was my plan, too,” she said quietly.
“Right.”
That reminder seemed to stir something up in Wheeler. He slapped his hands on his knees, then stood. “I best be going. The bell will be ringing soon.” The way he said it made Briar think he wanted to walk alone back to work. She watched him jog down the steps and out onto the street without a glance behind.
Briar let her head fall back against the brick wall and closed her eyes. She couldn’t tell what she felt about Wheeler anymore. At least he showed some signs of regret that things hadn’t worked out between them. It hadn’t all been in her mind.
She felt someone take her hand, and she opened her eyes. It was Ethel. “Come on. We have to run or we’ll be late.”
Briar smiled. “Thanks for waiting.”
“No problem. How did he take the news?” She cocked her head and arched her eyebrows.
Briar didn’t like Ethel’s judgmental tone. “He’s worried,” she said defensively. “He’s concerned if it’s polio that her legs could be permanently affected, or that she could die.”
“Or that he’d be stuck with a cripple?”
“Ethel! How could you say that?”
After too long a pause, Ethel said, “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s a shock for him and I’m sure he’ll be there for Sadie no matter the outcome of her illness.”
Briar doubted Ethel’s sincerity. Or was it that Briar had doubts herself?
The bell rang, giving them ten minutes to get to their stations. They looked at each other and broke into a run, arriving out of breath but on time.
The rest of the day was somber. Not only were the operatives still grumbling about the pay cut, now they were worried they’d get sick, too. Briar kept her focus on her frames. Deftly tying up threads on Annie’s frames, adjusting tension, and keeping an eye on her young doffer.
By the end of the day, another girl on Briar’s floor complained she wasn’t feeling well. The operatives cast worried glances around, and encouraged her to quit early and go home.
Briar couldn’t help but note that all the girls who were falling ill were the girls who had come over to poke around her frame. But if the spindle were the source of the illness, Briar should have been the first to fall sick, since she’d been around it the longest. Although she’d never actually touched it, since she’d always kept it covered with the blue silk.
In the fairy tale, Aurora pricked her finger and fell asleep. None of the girls had pricked a finger, and they were all very much awake. No, the source of the illness had to be from somewhere else. Especially since it wasn’t only the mill girls who were coming down with polio symptoms. Briar was just overly sensitive about the spindle, and she was reading into things that weren’t there.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When Briar walked down the stairwell, she saw Wheeler standing at the bottom, waiting for her like he used to. She drew in a breath. Met his eyes. Smiled.
“Hi,” he said when she reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Hi,” she said shyly. She remembered the first time he’d waited for her there. That was the day she knew he was interested in her, when he braved all the female operatives
pouring out of the building. Why was he here waiting for her again? Had things changed that much with Sadie?
“I hear you’re the top producer in the spinning room now.”
She nodded.
“They need someone to move to Burlington to teach the new girls to spin.” He smiled at her and her heart skipped a beat. Oh, that grin. It used to be just for her. She pulled up the memory of him and Sadie trying to find her pond, and she could almost hear Henry whisper in her ear to be careful, don’t get hurt again.
“Will you be stopping by tonight to see Sadie?” she asked, putting up a wall that needed to stay between them.
“Will Miss Olive let me past the parlor?”
“I don’t know. She might.”
“I’ll come anyway. To check up on Sadie.” He held Briar’s gaze a little too long and Briar felt her face grow warm. She looked away, hoping he didn’t notice the effect he still had on her. He needed to figure out his intentions toward Sadie before renewing any plans with Briar. She refused to be a stopgap until Sadie got better.
“No visitors yet.” Miss Olive blocked Briar from entering the room. The diagnosis was in. Polio. Everyone was to stay away. “Get yourself ready for supper.”
Lost in thought, Briar climbed the stairs to her room and bumped into Ethel, who was carrying up a big box of leaflets and white ribbons. The box tipped and fell, scattering temperance material about the stairwell.
“Briar!” Ethel set down the box and started gathering the papers.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I was distracted and didn’t see you.” Briar started to help stack the leaflets but paused to skim one. A WCTU meeting. It was hard to keep track of all Ethel’s meetings. “What’s this one about?”
With mounting enthusiasm, Ethel filled Briar in on the latest news in women’s suffrage. “If women have the vote, we can change the laws, so we are taken care of instead of taken advantage of. We can vote the saloons away and have our husbands back.”
“Are you already planning on having a husband who frequents the saloons?” Briar teased.
Ethel scowled and snatched the leaflet from Briar. “The WCTU, the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union, is sending a representative to speak to us this week. You should come and learn about how unfair the laws are for us women and what we can do to change that. Mrs. Tuttle’s speech helped you, didn’t it?”
“Yes, her speech encouraged me to fight harder, and not let myself get swept away.” But Briar pushed back a little. “The laws are already in place for our vote. When we marry, we are supposed to work as a unit. My vote will be cast through my husband.”
Ethel scoffed. “Weren’t you listening the other night? Where are all these good husbands we keep hearing about?” She opened her arms wide, indicating all the single women in the house. “You’re the youngest here, Briar. The rest of us are over eighteen. And even if we do marry, what of the bad husbands? What recourse do we have when the one we marry turns out not to be a good man?”
Mim came up the stairs in time to catch the end of the conversation. “I plan to marry a good man. I’m very thorough with my process. That’s why I haven’t settled down yet.”
“You have to be asked, first,” Ethel said, irritated.
“Maybe I have been asked, but I turned him down.” Mim leaned against the wall.
This is news. “Who asked you?”
Mim waved her hand like it was of little consequence. “There was this boy back home. It was a setup really between our parents, but I didn’t like him. He wasn’t the sort for me, so that’s when I left and came here.”
“You ran away from home?” asked Briar.
Mim chortled. “I suppose I did. And I’m not going back in defeat. Not until I’ve found a man on my own.” She scooped up a bunch of white ribbons and piled them into the box. “What about you, Briar? I heard you were outside with Wheeler, on the courting bench no less.”
Briar gasped. “Is that what they’re saying? I had to tell him about Sadie, that’s all. I-I’m the one who knows him best.”
“Tut-tut. Don’t you worry what those gossips say. Once you leave this mill, you won’t care one hoot what they think. Concentrate on your future. Do what you need to survive. Even you have to agree with that advice, don’t you, Ethel?”
Ethel shrugged. “I suppose. We’ve got to be smart. Children are orphaned,” she said and looked at Briar. “Or they try to force you into a match you don’t want.” She pointed to Mim. “You can’t always control what happens to you, but you can choose how you respond.”
“And what about you, Ethel?” asked Briar. “Has anything happened to you?”
“You know why I’m here. The mill is a stepping-stone to earn money for college and a better life.”
“Yes, but we don’t know what brought you here.”
Ethel picked up the box and led the way to their room.
Mim looped her arm through Briar’s. “Better give up, Briar. She’s keeping it to herself. That’s why she’s so annoyed with me. I poked her too hard about it when she first moved in. I suppose she’s entitled to her secrets.”
Ethel stuck out her tongue before putting the box on their bed. “Mark my words. One day we’ll have the vote and you’ll see what a difference it will make. We could use your help, though.” She held out stacks of leaflets. “You can come with me tonight to hand these out.”
Mim picked a leaflet from the box. “WCTU? Aren’t they for prohibition? I’m not sure I want to push for that.”
Ethel frowned. “What, it’s not like you go out to the saloons every weekend.”
“No, but I like to think I could if I wanted to.”
Ethel snatched the leaflet away. “You wouldn’t be caught dead in a saloon and you know it.” She turned to Briar. “And you? Do you think the cause is more important than keeping open the option to do something you don’t do anyway?”
Briar sighed. “I don’t know what I think anymore. Sure, I’ll come with you to hand out leaflets.” She would consider it penance in case it really was her fault the mill girls were getting sick.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ethel marched purposefully down the street with Briar double-timing it, trying to keep up. “We’re going to be late,” said Ethel. “Hurry up.”
“How many are we meeting?” Briar asked.
“Only a handful tonight. It’s the factory girls taking this side of town. Some ladies’ auxiliaries are canvassing other districts. Sunrise keeps growing and growing. We want to make sure it grows in the right way. Fewer saloons, more schools.”
The gathering was held outside another boardinghouse. Briar didn’t know the other operatives, as they were mostly older, and Ethel said they worked in the weaving rooms or in the new shirtwaist factory.
“A new recruit,” said a woman in a crisp shirtwaist and long cotton skirt. “I’m Miss Ellison. Welcome to our group.” She shook Briar’s hand.
“Now that we’re all here, let’s divide up the leaflets. We’ll start with our own street then work our way into town. Give them to whoever makes eye contact but focus on the women. Remind them we have strength in numbers.”
Briar and Ethel took their allotment and started on the boardinghouses on the right-hand side of the street. At this time of night, most of the operatives not on the town would be in their parlors.
The first house they entered was Annie’s. About a dozen girls sat around, playing various parlor games or reading.
While Ethel worked the room, Briar spoke with one of Annie’s friends. “How is she tonight?”
“Worse. The doctor’s really worried. They’ve called in her parents. Her dad will be here tomorrow to take her home. She was the oldest of twelve. I don’t know how they’re going to manage having her back at home without her wages.”
“They’ll manage just fine,” piped up another girl. “It’s Annie who’ll have the hard time when she gets better and finds herself playing nursemaid to all her siblings again.”
Ethel returned t
o Briar’s side. “Hand them each a leaflet,” she whispered.
Briar thrust a paper into each girl’s hand. “Tell Annie I’m sorry.”
They continued down the row of boardinghouses, Ethel chatting up the cause with anyone who would listen, Briar thinking about Annie and Sadie.
She felt terrible that the two had gotten so sick. What if the cause was the spindle? She wouldn’t be able to tell anyone; no one would believe her. If she started talking about a fairy-wood spindle that could make girls ill they’d think she’d lost her mind, then she’d lose her job, and then where would the children be? Hopefully Miss Fanny would come up with a way to get the spindle off the frame.
One thought niggled the back of her mind, though. Henry. What role did he play in all this? He had been at her side for as long as she was in Sunrise Valley and then practically overnight he was gone. A fairy had appeared, and a magic spindle was now in her spinning frame. She couldn’t figure out how everything was connected.
Next house was their own. A loud burst of laughter came out of the parlor as they opened the front door. A heated game of progressive Tiddledy Winks was going on, and Wheeler, a master at flipping the winks, had worked his way up to the head table.
Briar froze in the doorway. She’d forgotten he was stopping in. It was so strange to see him here. He and Sadie usually went out instead of hanging around the parlor where he and Briar once spent all their time. Ethel started right in, passing out the leaflets while Briar stood in the doorway. Wheeler looked up and waved before concentrating back on the game.
Ethel was quick to pass out the leaflets as she’d already spoken to each of the girls about the WCTU before. She saw who Briar was fixated on, then stood in her way. “Let’s go.”
Once outside, Ethel marched to the next house. Then she stopped. “You’re not thinking about Wheeler again, are you?”
Spindle Page 16
