Whispers of the Wind

by Frances Devine

  A sound of exasperation escaped her lips, but she nodded. “All right. But I’m waiting in the foyer.”

  He nodded, grabbed his medical bag, and headed for the infirmary.

  By the time Virgie came through the door followed by Albert, who was carrying eight-year-old Sonny in his arms, Trent had everything needed for the examination laid out on his instrument table beside the cot.

  Albert laid Sonny down and left the room.

  “Hello, Sonny.” The boy didn’t respond. Trent put his finger gently under his chin and tilted his face until he looked at him. Then he repeated the words.

  “Hi, Doc.” His words weren’t as plain as usual, and Trent didn’t care for the raspy sound of Sonny’s voice. Or the pink flush on his face.

  “Will you open your mouth for me and stick out your tongue?”

  Sonny complied, and just as Trent had suspected, his temperature proved to be a few degrees above normal.

  Virgie removed the little boy’s shirt, and Trent examined him thoroughly, growing more concerned as each measles symptom reared its head.

  “Well, young man, looks like you don’t have to go to school for a few days.” He patted Sonny on the head. “Miz Virgie is going to make up a nice bed for you right here in the infirmary so the other boys won’t be making a lot of noise while you try to rest.”

  “Ohay, Doc. I how owioca?”

  Trent grinned. “Yes, you can have tapioca. And I’ll bet Miz Virgie would even put some of her spiced peaches on top.”

  He glanced at Virgie. Worry clouded her face. And she motioned toward the hall.

  “Sonny, I’m going out into the hall for a minute; then we’re going to give you a nice cool sponge bath to make you feel better.”

  When they entered the foyer, Abigail stepped toward them. “How is Sonny?”

  “Miss James, I need to speak to Virgie for a moment; then I have a request for you.”

  She nodded and turned away.

  Trent took Virgie’s hand in his. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s measles isn’t it?” Worry shadowed her eyes.

  “Yes, I’m glad we caught it as soon as we did. Still, I don’t expect Sonny to be the only one. Watch for any sign of it in the other children.”

  “Dr. Trent, Hunter was here with me all morning. Solomon just came and got him a few minutes ago.” She squeezed his hand. “He’s been exposed.”

  “All right. Try not to worry.” Her little grandson was Virgie’s pride and joy. “Even if he’s contracted them, he should be fine. I’ll send Albert over to explain the situation to Carrie and Solomon so they can watch for symptoms. Unless he was exposed sooner, it will be several days before anything shows up.”

  She nodded. “I know you’ll take care of my angel. Just like you do all these others. I’ll go get some warm water and cloths to bathe Sonny. And I’ll tell cook to make him some beef tea and tapioca.”

  He glanced after her. Maybe he should send her over to be with Hunter. But no. Hunter was fine for now. And if more children at the school became sick, she’d be needed.

  Albert came in from the kitchen. “Virgie say you want to see me?”

  Trent gave Albert instructions, and when the old servant had left, he finally turned to Abigail.

  “Miss James, I’m afraid it is measles. Since you’ve had them, I’d appreciate it if you’d help Virgie get Sonny settled while I take a look at the other children. And please pray that we have no epidemic here at the school.”

  Before the day was over, two more children joined Sonny in the infirmary. Since the children were in close quarters together, Trent saw no reason to stop classes for the well children. But when three more became ill the next day, classes were discontinued.

  five

  Abigail jerked awake and sat up straight. She stretched her neck. Sleeping in the rocking chair beside Lily Ann’s bed comforted the child, but it didn’t lend much to rest. Thank the good Lord the child hadn’t contracted the measles, but she was frightened. And since Mrs. Cole was taking a turn in the infirmary, Abigail hadn’t had the heart to go off and leave her alone in an otherwise empty dormitory. How unfortunate that her parents were away from home this week. Otherwise she’d more than likely have been sent home. But they’d be home tomorrow night, just in time to pick their daughter up for the weekend.

  Abigail yawned and looked at the little round watch on the white ribbon around her neck. Five o’clock. Mrs. Cole would return any minute. Then Abigail could wash up and change into fresh clothing. After breakfast, she’d take a turn at nursing. Dr. Trent was hardly sleeping at all. An hour here or there. But then the rest of them weren’t doing much better.

  The door opened and Mrs. Cole tiptoed in, looking exhausted.

  “Felicity, when Lily Ann wakes up, why don’t you take her to the kitchen? Cook won’t mind looking out for her. And Lily Ann will love it.”

  The kindly woman lifted a hand to cover a yawn. She smiled. “I just might do that. The girls were all restless through the night. I couldn’t even get a catnap.”

  Abigail stifled a yawn with one hand and waved good-bye with the other. She went to her room and glanced with longing at her soft feather bed before turning to her washstand.

  When she entered the dining room a short time later, the smell of bacon, which usually set her taste buds watering, didn’t even appeal to her senses. She went to the buffet and poured a cup of coffee then sat at the table with Howard Owens, Charles, Helen, and the two boys who hadn’t become ill. Mr. Carter had scarcely put in an appearance since the measles appeared. He spent his time in his apartment and office. Charles had laughingly said the man was apparently depressed by the enforced change in schedule.

  Virgie came in and glanced at Abigail. Without a word she went to the buffet and filled a plate. She set it down in front of Abigail.

  “Oh, but Virgie, I’m not hungry.” She pushed the plate away. After all, she wasn’t a child.

  “Miss Abigail. You need nourishment to keep your strength up. If you don’t eat, you won’t be any help to those young’uns at all.”

  Her face heated. Virgie was right. She pulled the plate back to her and picked up her fork.

  Virgie smiled and patted her on the shoulder as she walked past her. She filled another plate then carried it from the room. For Dr. Quincy? Probably. He’d hardly left the infirmary all week. Abigail was amazed at his dedication to the sick children. Every day he checked on the others as well so that no symptom could slip by.

  She’d noticed a special concern in his eyes for Lily Ann and wondered why.

  “Abigail, are you all right? I’ve spoken to you twice.” Helen’s brow was furrowed with concern as she gazed at Abigail.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess my mind wandered. Did you say something?”

  “I suggested that you get some rest. I had a good night’s sleep, and I don’t mind taking your turn in the infirmary.”

  Warmth flowed through Abigail at the kindness offered by her new friend. Helen’s shift was right after hers, so if she took Abigail’s turn, she’d be there twice as long.

  “Thank you so much. I appreciate the offer more than I can say, but I’ll be fine. Truly I will. And I know you have things you need to do this morning.”

  “Well, if you’re sure, but promise me if you get too tired, send someone to get me. I don’t mind.”

  Somehow Abigail didn’t feel quite so tired. What was it about kindness that lifted not only one’s spirit, but even strengthened the body?

  She found Dr. Quincy and Virgie feeding porridge to the children who could tolerate it. The doctor’s plate sat untouched on a table in the corner.

  She hurried to his side. “Here, let me do this while you eat your breakfast.”

  He glanced up and gave her a half smile. Weariness filled his eyes. “Thank you, Miss James. I believe I will.”

  He stood and handed her the half-empty bowl.

  She took it and leaned over ten-year-old Molly Case. “Good morning.
Are you feeling better today?”

  The little girl gave her a tremulous smile. “A little bit.” She eyed the spoon in Abigail’s hand.

  “Here you go. Don’t you just love porridge?”

  Molly nodded and swallowed. “Peaches in it.”

  “Yes, I see that. Smells like sugar and spice.”

  Abigail spooned the last bite into Molly’s mouth and handed her a napkin. Then she moved on to Jimmy Parker. When all six children had eaten, Virgie piled the dishes on a tray and left to attend to her household duties.

  Sally May brought in pitchers of water and set them on the washstand then left.

  Abigail spent the next hour bathing feverish skin and replacing damp clothing while Dr. Quincy left to change and tend to personal needs.

  She was relieved to note that several of the children seemed cooler than before.

  When the doctor returned, he took temperatures once again.

  “Miss James, did you by any chance see Lily Ann today?” He shook the mercury down in the thermometer and placed it under Sonny’s tongue.

  “Yes, she was sleeping when I left the dormitory.”

  “No symptoms?”

  “No, she seemed quite well, Doctor.”

  Relief passed over his face.

  “Good. She has enough to bear without contending with sickness.”

  “Yes. As do all the children.” She gave him a pointed look.

  “Of course. It’s just—you see, I knew Lily Ann before she lost her vision.” His eyes clouded with pain for a moment. Then he shook his head as though to shake away a memory.

  “An accident.” He spoke almost sharply before changing the subject. “You seem to work very well with her. She likes you.”

  “And I like her. I only wish I could do more.”

  “I’m sure we all feel the same. About Lily Ann as well as the deaf children.”

  She sighed. “Yes, I’d hoped—” She stopped. This wasn’t the time.

  He took the thermometer from Sonny’s mouth and examined it. He gave a nod and winked at the boy. “Much better, Sonny.”

  Abigail walked beside him while he checked the rest of the children.

  “Continue, please, Miss James.”

  “All right.” After all, he’d asked. “I’d hoped to be able to teach sign language.”

  He threw her a surprised look. “You know sign language?”

  “Of course. It was part of my training to teach the deaf. I was surprised to find out it was not being taught here.”

  He lifted Molly’s wrist to count her pulse then patted her as he walked on to the next child. “I broached the subject to Carter at one time. But he assured me our current teaching methods were more than adequate.”

  She opened her mouth to retort then clamped it shut.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You disagree?”

  “I most certainly do disagree.”

  “Have you spoken to the director about it?”

  “Yes. He basically told me he had no use for signing and that I should stop bothering him.” At the thought of her meetings with Mr. Carter, anger rose, and she felt heat rising from deep inside. Her face felt as though a fire had seared it.

  “He actually said that?” Incredulity filled his voice.

  “Well, no, not exactly. Not in so many words. But that’s what he meant.”

  Trent frowned. “I’m sorry if you were offended, Miss James. I’m sure Mr. Carter didn’t mean it the way you took it.”

  She should have known he’d defend the director. She clamped her mouth shut and picked up a book to read to the children. Were all men obstinate?

  “Miss James.”

  She turned. “Yes, Doctor?”

  “If you don’t mind, I would like to discuss the matter further when we have more time.”

  Caught off guard by his statement after her unkind thought, she blushed. “You would?”

  “Of course. If you feel that strongly about the subject, I’d like to know why.” His serious expression left no doubt he meant it. “The welfare of the children is always my number-one priority.”

  ❧

  Abigail looked across her desk at the empty classroom. She’d come up here after supper to gather her thoughts. She’d done it again. When would she learn not to speak impulsively. She’d been totally wrong to criticize Mr. Carter to Dr. Quincy. He probably saw it as insubordination, and perhaps it was. If only she could be patient. But patience wouldn’t help the children now.

  She sighed. There she went again. She couldn’t control her thoughts any better than her words. It would serve her right if Dr. Quincy should dismiss her. Or had Mr. Carter do it.

  A shadow fell across her desk, and she looked up to see Dr. Quincy in the doorway. Fatigue was written all over him.

  Fear gripping her, Abigail rose from her chair. “Dr. Quincy. Has one of the children taken a turn for the worse?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that. But if you aren’t busy, I’d like to have a word with you.”

  Dread spread though her from her chest up to her head. This was it then. She hadn’t expected it this soon.

  She straightened her back and lifted her chin, meeting his eyes. “Yes, Dr. Quincy? You wish to speak to me about something?”

  “Yes. I know you must be tired after being in the infirmary all day, and I promise I won’t keep you long.”

  “That’s quite all right. I’m not tired.” Her lips trembled, and she pressed them together while she motioned to a chair beside her desk. “Won’t you have a seat, Doctor?”

  “Would you mind if we talk on the front porch? There’s at least a little breeze out there.”

  His shirtsleeves were sticking to his arms. She averted her eyes. If he only knew how women suffered, with skirts, petticoats, and corsets. Realizing her thoughts were heading down an unkind path again, she slammed the door on them and cleared her throat. “No, I don’t mind.” She stood and started toward the door.

  He stood aside to allow her to pass, and they went downstairs. They crossed the foyer and stepped out onto the porch.

  She took a refreshing breath, relieved that there really was a fairly cool breeze blowing tonight.

  He motioned to the willow chairs that stood at one end of the porch. It appeared he would behave very courteously all the way up to the time he fired her.

  She walked over and sat on the edge of the chair, stiff as a board. He sat on a chair across from her.

  “Miss James, I wonder if you’d mind telling me a little more about sign language. Before I speak to Mr. Carter on the subject, I’d like to know what I’m talking about.”

  Her eyes widened and the corners of her lips turned up. “I’m not dismissed?”

  “Dismissed? Why would you think that?”

  An audible sigh of relief escaped her lips. “Oh Dr. Quincy, it was so disrespectful of me to criticize your director, thereby indirectly criticizing your school. That was inexcusable. You see, although I am very qualified to teach, I’m a little headstrong sometimes. Yes, and I’m opinionated, too. And stubborn. It was disgraceful of me to think I could come in and run things.”

  Disturbed by her distress and remorse he started to take her hand but thought better of it.

  “Miss James, I don’t see you that way at all. I see you as a caring woman who wants to bring good things to the school to help the children.” He smiled. “And although I generally allow the director to handle things pertaining to the school, there’s nothing wrong with you making suggestions. And I hope you’ll always feel free to tell me when you believe something relevant to the good of the children is amiss.”

  She nodded. “I’m grateful. But I still handled things impulsively. I’ve repented to God for that. I’m sure Mr. Carter cares about the children, too. Perhaps he feels it best not to change things that are working well.”

  “But change is good if it makes things work better. And that’s what I need to find out.” He leaned back against the cushioned back. “So if you wouldn’t min
d, I’d like for you to tell me all you know about sign language.”

  She pressed her lips together in an attempt to hold back a smile, but it escaped anyway. “It took me two years to learn all I know, but I’ll give you a quick lesson if that’s sufficient.”

  For the next hour, Trent listened intently as she told him the history and progress of signing and the great strides made in communication with the deaf.

  “And while lip reading is wonderful in its place, it isn’t always possible. Many people don’t enunciate well enough.”

  Trent nodded. As long as he’d been involved in this school, sometimes he forgot to speak directly to the child.

  “And when two or more people sign together, the communication is more satisfactory to them.”

  Trent, wrapped up in her explanations, nodded. “Yes, I can see where it would be.”

  She chuckled. “The funniest thing happened at the school where I trained. Two young girls were in a heated argument in signs. Finally one of them turned her back and walked away with her hand behind her still signing. She got the last word.”

  Trent burst out laughing. “That is a delightful story.”

  “Would you like to learn some signs?” She smiled, her eyes sparkling.

  “Could I? I mean do you think I could learn?” Excitement sparkled in his eyes.

  “Of course. Let’s start by learning the letters to your name.”

  She made a fist and put her thumb between her first two fingers. “This is a T.”

  After several clumsy tries, he managed to make the T. “How’s that?”

  She smiled. “Perfect.”

  She continued with the letters in his first name then had him form the name. After several mistakes, he finally got it right without help. A heady sense of satisfaction washed over him. If he felt that good about spelling his name, how would a deaf child feel?

  “Abigail, thank you for taking the time to teach me.”

  “It was my pleasure. Keep practicing your first name, and I’ll teach you how to sign your last name next time. You already know one of the letters.”