Chapter Nineteen
Because of meetings, last-minute preparations for the Fall Festival and Alice’s “date” the night before, it was not until Sunday night that the three sisters were finally able to meet again to read from their father’s journal.
“It feels like it’s been ages since we did this,” said Jane as she dropped generous dollops of whipped cream on the three dishes of still steaming apple cobbler.
Louise set their desserts along with forks and napkins on a big tray. “Are you ready, Alice?”
“Coming.” Alice picked up the teapot and the three of them proceeded to the Daniel Howard Library.
“As nice as all our guests were this past weekend, it’s lovely to have the house back to ourselves,” Jane commented.
“I wonder how we’ll feel if this place ever starts getting booked throughout the week,” said Alice. “I mean we had a couple of fully booked weeks during the summer, but I can’t imagine keeping up that kind of frantic pace seven days a week, week after week.”
“Nor could I,” said Louise with a sigh. “I am sure you both noticed that I sneaked off for a long nap after chapel today.”
“That’s the beauty of running our own business,” said Jane as she handed them each a dish of cobbler. “We set the rules. We never have to accept reservations for the beginning of the week if we don’t want to.”
Alice smiled as she lifted her fork. “You’re absolutely right, Jane, and that is a comforting reminder.”
Louise took her cobbler and leaned back in the easy chair, putting her feet up on the little needlepoint footstool that their mother had stitched more than fifty years before. “It is not such a bad life, is it, girls?”
Jane laughed. “Not at all.”
“This cobbler is scrumptious, Jane,” said Alice after a couple of bites. Then she opened her father’s journal and began to read.
September 11, 1926. I am extremely thankful for two things tonight. Make that three. First of all, I am thankful that the bulk of summer farm work is finished. We got the crop in last month and now we have just finished tilling our fields to prepare them for a winter crop. It seems that my father’s marriage has made him a lot more industrious. As a result, I have never worked so hard in my life. Next, I am thankful that school has begun. More than ever I feel I am more interested in academics than in farming. Still, I know to keep these opinions to myself. The third thing is now that school has begun I am able to see Adele Brooks on a regular basis. On the first day of school she walked with me to the newspaper office. Of course, we stopped for a soda first. We were having quite a nice visit until a couple of her girlfriends asked to sit with us. I am sure my face turned the color of a ripe tomato, and although I tried to be polite, I fear that my social skills were sadly lacking. The next day I searched for help in the form of a book in the library. I found one, which is titled MANNERS, ETIQUETTE, AND PROPER PROTOCOL FOR YOUTH. It promises to help make me into a “courteous young man capable of performing with comfort and ease in any social setting.” We shall see.
Alice set down the book and shook her head. “Father was the politest gentleman I’ve ever known.”
“Yes,” said Louise, “and now we may know how he got that way.”
Alice continued.
September 28, 1926. Gladys has been out of sorts lately. I am sure this has to do with her “delicate condition,” but I have learned to lay low. Consequently, I try to spend as little time in the house as possible. I have done my best to construct what I hope will be a cold-proof space in the hayloft. I have made myself an igloo out of stacks of hay bales and old blankets and quilts. My new abode is complete with a board wedged into the bales to provide a shelf for my schoolbooks and a kerosene lamp to read by. I have put my mother’s Bible there as well. I came across a box of Mother’s things while hunting for extra blankets in the attic. The Bible was right on top. I feel that she would want me to have it and to read it. Since I am rethinking my previous commitment to atheism, I have decided it can do me no harm to read from the book occasionally. So far my little room has been comfortable, albeit slightly itchy, but the cold weather is still a ways off yet, and I may eventually be forced back into the house for warmth. My father seems not to notice my absence and, in fact, has been staying away a bit more himself of late. I try not to think about where it is he may be going or with whom. We ran a front-page article in the newspaper this week about some bootleggers up north who were accused of shooting a revenuer. Their stills and goods were confiscated and destroyed, and three men were arrested. I made sure to leave a copy of this newspaper on the table where my father eats his meals. He’s not much of a reader, but I think he could tell from the photos and headlines that it was not good news. I doubt that he knows any of those men, but it might be a good reminder to him that there are prohibition laws being enforced in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. Adele has continued to be kind to me, often sharing her generous-sized lunch with me. I suspect that she packs it especially for this purpose for I rarely see her eat much. Some of our classmates now refer to us as a couple, but I am not convinced that Adele thinks of us in that way for she still enjoys chatting with other boys occasionally, especially the more outgoing ones who are involved in sports. Football is big now. I have been invited to play, probably because of my height—I measured six feet tall during the health scans at the beginning of school. My job at the newspaper makes football impossible, but I am not sure that I would want to play anyway. The idea of running around a soggy field and knocking heads together does not appeal to me much. However, I am sure I would make a brave attempt if I could afford the time and thought it would impress Adele. As it is, I try not to let her see how I feel when she is friendly with the football players. She and her girlfriends wave banners bearing our school colors as they watch the games. They say it is quite exciting, but so far I have had no opportunity to witness this firsthand. I think I shall attempt to keep it that way.
“I wonder how it was that Father grew to love football,” said Jane. “I remember his taking us to lots of the high school games.”
“I think it was his way of connecting with the youth and the community,” suggested Alice. “He even attended a few games the year before he died.”
“I never understood the game myself,” said Louise. “In fact, I concur completely with Father’s opinion when he was in high school. I, too, have no desire to witness the sport firsthand.”
“Oh, I enjoy taking in a game or two each year,” said Alice. “In fact, I may go to the next home game.”
“May I join you?” asked Jane.
“Of course,” said Alice. “We’ll take some warm blankets and a thermos of hot cocoa, and it’ll be great fun. How about you, Louise?”
“Humph.” Louise looked unconvinced. “I would rather be warm and dry and drink my cocoa in the comfort of my own home, thank you very much.” Wendell hopped onto her lap and made himself comfortable.
“Oh, Louise,” said Jane. “It wouldn’t be fall without football. It is fun in a mindless sort of way.”
Louise petted the cat and shook her head. “No, Jane, if I want to have some mindless sort of fun, I can spend an evening with old Wendell here.”
“Hey, don’t insult our cat,” said Jane. “I happen to think he’s quite intelligent, for a feline anyway.”
Alice laughed. “Father used to say the same thing.”
That night before Alice went to bed, she prayed specifically for Vera again. She knew that her friend was scheduled to go in for more extensive tests during the week, in Philadelphia this time. Once again, Alice asked God to give someone in the medical community the specific answers needed to diagnose Vera and to help her get well. Then, to bolster her faith, she read a familiar Bible verse: “Ask and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened” (Matthew 7:7–8).
When Alice started the car the
next morning, the car radio came on. It wasn’t her habit to listen to the radio on her way to work, but when she recognized the voice of Dr. Bob Boshaw, she decided to listen. He was discussing the dangers of herbal medicines.
“I know that everybody thinks these herbs are perfectly safe,” he said in his laid-back Southern drawl, “just because they grow out of the earth and look leafy and pretty. The truth of the matter is a few of them can be quite dangerous, and when used in combination with a prescribed drug or medical procedure, can even be lethal. That’s right, I said lethal. Okay, I’ll admit the occurrence of death isn’t common, but it can happen. So, maybe you’re looking at that herbal dietary supplement or even a harmless cup of herbal tea in a new way. Good. Go ahead and read the label.”
Alice turned the volume up when he said “harmless cup of herbal tea” and listened intently as he read through the list of dangerous herbs. Most of the names sounded unfamiliar, until he mentioned comfrey.
“Some folks drink comfrey tea to soothe their digestion, and I’ve heard that it tastes pretty good, too. But, it’s poisonous, folks. Comfrey tea can make you sick as a dog.”
Alice tried to listen to the rest of his show, but all she could think of was how Vera had been practically living on comfrey tea during the past couple of months. Vera’s daughter Jeanie, always experimenting with herbal treatments, had introduced her mother to it the previous summer when Vera had suffered from some mild indigestion. Vera had felt that the tea helped. She had even offered it to Alice, but Alice had never cared for the taste of herbal teas. Even so, she had faithfully made it for Vera often enough. Goodness gracious! How many times had Alice actually encouraged Vera to drink a cup of comfrey tea? Alice had been enticing her best friend to drink poison.
For the first time in her life, Alice wished for a cellular phone. Tempted to speed the remaining distance to Potterston in order to use a phone, she decided to calm herself by praying.
“Dear Heavenly Father, please help me to get this news to Vera. I’m so sorry that I ever encouraged Vera to drink that awful stuff, but I didn’t know. Please, take care of Vera. Don’t let this harm her.”
Alice had tears streaming down her cheeks as she parked her car and hurried into the hospital. She stopped at the front desk and asked to use the phone.
“Is something wrong?” asked the receptionist.
“I hope not anymore,” said Alice as she dialed Vera’s number.
“Hello?”
Alice could tell she had awakened her friend, but she did not care. “Vera, we need to get you back into the hospital for some new tests today,” she told her.
“Alice? What are you talking about?”
“It’s the tea, Vera. It’s making you sick. Whatever you do, do not drink another drop of that comfrey tea.”
“Alice, are you okay? You don’t sound like yourself. What’s going on?”
Alice tried to explain calmly to Vera what she had heard on the radio. “Now, I’m going to hang up and call your doctor and tell him what I’ve found out. Then we’ll see if we can get you scheduled for some new lab work today.”
“Are you sure, Alice? I just don’t see how herbal tea—”
“Vera, promise me that you won’t drink another drop of it. And don’t throw it out, we should probably have it tested for toxicity.”
“Okay, Alice. You sound a little crazy, but I’ll trust you on this.”
“Good. Now just take it easy. I’ll see you before long.”
Chapter Twenty
By the end of the day, everyone concurred that Vera Humbert’s good health had indeed been impaired by her regular consumption of the seemingly innocent comfrey tea. The good news was that it appeared that no permanent damage to her liver had occurred. By simply removing the tea from her daily diet, she would be her old self in no time.
After it had become clear that Vera was in no immediate danger, Alice had sent Fred back to work, telling him she would drive Vera home at the end of her shift.
“I am so thankful that you heard that radio show,” Vera told Alice as they walked out to the parking lot together. “Although I do feel foolish to think that I was poisoning myself.”
“How could you have known?” Alice shook her head as she unlocked her car door for Vera and waited for her to get in. “I feel so awful to think that I was encouraging you to drink the horrid stuff. I’m sure I must’ve brewed you a pot every time I came over.”
“You just thought you were helping.” Vera sighed as she fastened her seatbelt. “I’m the one who thought it was so good for me. It seemed to help my stomach upsets last summer.”
“According to Dr. Bob, dangerous effects are associated with very few herbal remedies, but I guess it’s a good reminder to read up on things before we try something new.”
“I’ll say.”
“But what about Jeanie?” said Alice as she started the car. “Doesn’t she drink comfrey tea, too?”
“I already called her from the hospital,” said Vera. Then she laughed. “I managed to catch her on her cell phone. She told me she gave up herbal teas as soon as she went back to school. Apparently she’s into coffee now, but she was extremely sorry for introducing me to that nasty stuff.”
Alice reached over and squeezed Vera’s hand. “Well, at least we know now.”
“Yes, it’s such a relief.”
“You know, I prayed that God would show us what was wrong with you,” said Alice as she turned onto the highway. “Just last night, I got out my Bible and read the verses in Matthew about asking and knocking, and then I specifically asked God to reveal an answer for you.”
Vera began to cry, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “And He did, Alice. He used you to show us the answer. I’ve learned something through all this. I’ve learned to trust God despite my circumstances. I know that I whined and complained a lot at first, but more recently I began reading my Bible and praying and basically trusting God for the outcome of all this. I actually think this experience has helped me to deal with my fear of cancer and dying.” Vera sighed. “And I think it was good for me to allow the ladies from church to help me out too.” She made a little face. “It wasn’t easy having Florence Simpson in my house, but I do think it was good for me. She’s not quite as bad as I thought. Believe me, I’ve never seen laundry done so precisely in my life.”
Alice laughed. “Good for Florence.”
“I think this whole thing has humbled me,” Vera admitted. “I suppose I needed that.”
“I guess we all need that from time to time,” said Alice. “It’s a good way to be reminded that God is still on the throne and in control of things.”
“Amen to that.”
“Now, won’t your fifth graders be glad to have you back,” said Alice.
“I can’t wait,” said Vera. “The doctor said I can return to work as soon as I feel strong enough. I feel so much better already.”
“You don’t need to rush things, Vera. Give yourself a chance to build up your reserves. The doctor said that your body would need some time to flush the toxins out of your system.”
“Yes, believe me, I definitely plan to do everything he recommended.”
News of Vera’s near poisoning spread around town quickly. Carlene Moss from the Acorn Nutshell printed a feature story about it, including how Alice Howard had prayed for an answer and then heard the Dr. Bob show the following morning. She also included a list of the more dangerous herbs and their various side effects.
“That was really something about Vera Humbert,” said their waitress, Hope Collins, when Alice and Jane met at the Coffee Shop on Thursday afternoon. “I had no idea that herbal teas were dangerous.”
“Most of them aren’t,” said Jane.
“Apparently there are a few people who can tolerate comfrey tea,” added Alice, “but I would recommend that people avoid it altogether. The hospital contacted state health officials. I hope they’ll come out with a warning.”
Hope refilled Jane’s coffee cup
. “Well, June took it pretty seriously after reading that article in the paper. She’s already gone through our herbal tea selection to make sure we’re not poisoning any of our customers. We don’t want to read ‘Tragedy at June Carter’s Shop’ in the Acorn Nutshell.”
“I’m sure you don’t. I did the same thing at the inn,” admitted Jane.
“How’s business over there?” asked Hope as she wiped down the counter.
“Just getting busy again,” said Jane. “Our first guests for the weekend just checked in this afternoon. We’ll be full up by tomorrow until Sunday.”
“Remember how some folks said it would never fly?” Hope grinned. “Guess it was just a matter of faith, eh?”
“That’s exactly right,” agreed Alice. It was hard to believe that only a year ago Hope was not too sure about where she stood in the area of her own personal faith. But over the course of the past year, she had begun coming regularly to church, and was even attending the women’s Bible study group now. Alice knew this had a lot to do with her own father’s influence with Hope. He had engaged in many inspiring conversations with this waitress during the last couple of years of his life.
“Earth to Alice,” Jane said for the second time.
“Sorry,” said Alice.
“Daydreaming?”
“Sort of.”
“Does it have anything to do with a certain veterinarian who’s thinking about moving to a small town?”
Alice shook her head. “No, not at all.”
“Oh, come on, Alice. You can be honest with me.”
“Really, Jane.” Alice lowered her voice. “If you must know, I was just thinking of what a great influence Father had on Hope before he died.”
Jane nodded. “Sorry.”
Then Alice grinned. “Not that I haven’t thought about Mark this week, but it’s been so busy that I haven’t had much time to obsess over anything.”
“That’s good. I don’t think I would’ve believed you if you tried to tell me that you haven’t even given him a second thought.”
Hidden History Page 16
