The Plague Doctor

by E. Joan Sims

  The Ob-Gyn who had admitted her tonight had dreadful handwriting. I looked at his notes from every angle, even upside down, before I could decipher the fact that he had no idea what was causing her premature labor and bleeding. If he had known, I thought cynically, he would probably have written in big bold letters. I was slowly but surely losing my faith in the medical profession.

  The rest of the chart was mostly lab reports and nurse’s notes. There was no mention of a mental evaluation having been ordered, although one nurse had mentioned that “the patient was anxious and distraught.” The doctor must have decided to call in a specialist after reading that.

  I had been up for over twenty hours by this time, and the sleep I had sought to no avail earlier was threatening to take me unawares. Standing up was a chore because my knees and shoulders were cramped and stiff. I hobbled out of the bathroom like an old woman.

  It was still dark outside. I had a couple of hours to sleep before pulling off my disappearing act. I opened the miniblinds so the sun would wake me at dawn and lay back to relax.

  Mother shook me awake at ten-thirty. Cassie and Mabel were laughing at me as I struggled to my senses. I wiped the sleep from my crusty eyes and the drool from my cheek.

  “Um, uh, oh,” was all I could manage.

  “Good morning, Mom. How’s the sleeping beauty?”

  “Don’t tease your sweet momma, child. She’s been watchin’ out for me all night long, and I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re right, Mabel. I’m sorry, Mom. Here, I’ll get you a hot washcloth. You can wash the sleep off.”

  “Never mind,” I mumbled. “I’ll come to the bathroom.”

  I tried to get up, but my entire body refused to cooperate. The whole of me was one big aching muscle. I took the hot cloth from Cassie and wiped my eyes and face. By the time I had finished, I felt somewhat more awake. She then presented me with a nice hot cup of tea, which made me feel even better.

  “Thanks! You’re an angel, Cassie. How are you feeling Mabel?”

  “The cramps are gone, and I think everything is all right. The doctor’s coming any time now, and I hope he’ll let me go home. I surely do miss my own bed.”

  By the time I finished my tea I could stand up. I stretched until I heard things popping. Mother offered me a comb with a disapproving shake of her head. I tried to run it through my unruly curls but they were too tangled. I did borrow a bit of lipstick, however. When I tucked my shirt back in my jeans, I was ready for the day.

  “How about some breakfast?” I inquired hopefully.

  “It’s almost eleven, dear. Why don’t we wait and see if Mabel’s doctor is going to dismiss her. We don’t want her to have to stay here a minute longer than necessary. When we get home I’ll fix you a nice lunch. Maybe an omelette with mushrooms and onions?”

  “Ummm, okay,” I reluctantly agreed. “How come nobody minded that I was here, Mabel?”

  “I don’t know, Miz Paisley. I woke up and saw you sleeping in the chair. When the nurse came in I told her you were my friend. She didn’t seem to care. I guess folks have family stay with them all the time.”

  “Upfhh,” I grumped, thinking of the uncomfortable hours I had spent waiting in the dirty stairwell when I could have been up here in this cozy chair all the while.

  Mabel’s doctor had gone off duty, but his partner came in shortly before noon. He read her chart and asked us to leave while he examined her. He came out in a few minutes and told us all was well and we could take her home. Mabel had to be on strict bed rest for at least two weeks. He asked if she had a regular doctor. When we told him Dr. Baxter had more or less retired, he gave us his card and directions to his office in Morgantown. Cassie kindly volunteered to take her to the appointment in fourteen days.

  She and I helped Mabel get dressed while Mother waved her magic wand in the business office. Cassie brought the car around, and I followed the nurse as she wheeled her patient down to the exit. For a moment or two I had a sense of déjà vu. Only a few months ago, I was leaving this hospital the same way. I tried to shake the sleepytime cobwebs from my head. There was something I needed to know before we left, but for the life of me I couldn’t think of what it was. The thought eluded me until we had taken our patient home and helped tuck her back in bed. Porky Pig! I had forgotten to ask the doctor about the psychiatric consultation he had ordered for Mabel.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  I tried not to act like a spoiled child but it was hard going for the next two hours. After we took Mabel home and made sure she was comfortable, Mother sent us to the one remaining pharmacy to fill Mabel’s prescriptions and to the grocery store to fill her pantry. Mother wanted to make sure Mabel and her family had everything they might need. Apollo would be more or less confined to the homestead with Mabel in bed and the three little ones to care for. Cassie, who loved the children, immediately offered to take them to the movies one afternoon and to the park at the lake on the weekend in order for Apollo to catch his breath.

  By the time we headed for home it was late in the afternoon and everyone seemed to have forgotten my breakfast. As my blood sugar fell so did my ability to remain affable and pleasant. After I made a particularly nasty remark to a driver who tried to turn in front of me without a signal, Cass took notice.

  “Crabby, are we? Did we forget to fill your tum-tum, hummm?”

  “Don’t get smart with me, sister! I’m a fiend when I’m feeling sorry for myself and right now I think I’m just about the most pitiful person on earth.”

  “Here, Mom, have a Tootsie Roll. I snagged one out of a machine at the drug store.”

  “Umm, thanks! And where is my omelette? Where are the fresh mushrooms?”

  “It’s after lunchtime now, Paisley, dear,” admonished Mother. “You don’t want to ruin your supper. I have a beautiful tenderloin marinating in this divine oriental…”

  “Divine my hind foot! All I’ve eaten since yesterday’s piss-poor lunch was a miserable little ham sandwich that would leave a mouse starving and two cups of rotten tea. Feed me!”

  “No need to raise your voice, Paisley. It’s so unbecoming. And foul language makes you sound like a stevedore. You must never forget that you are a southern lady. You do, after all, have to set a standard of behavior for your daughter.”

  “Oh…my…God!”

  “And blasphemy is definitely…”

  Instead of turning into our drive I headed downtown. I pulled into the drive-through window at the Dairy Queen and ordered a super-duper serving of fat and salty grease. I licked my chops and enjoyed every minute. Mother kept up her dissertation on my failure to set a nutritional example for my offspring during my entire meal. To show her that I had heard every word, I circled the Dairy Queen again and drove back around to the window. I placed an order for a large hot fudge sundae with cherries, whipped cream, and nuts. I wolfed down that little delight to the tune of my being an ungrateful daughter who has no discipline.

  “Just one thing, Mother. You forgot to mention that I’m an unfit maternal role model for Aggie.”

  “Go ahead, my dear, continue to make fun of me. You’ll be sorry one day.”

  And, of course, she was right. God planned it that way. Mothers always get to be right. I wondered when it was going to be my turn. I was a mother, too. And I was thankful for that because it was Cassie who held my head as I threw up all night.

  Around two in the morning, when my salty, greasy meal was just a bad memory, I told her about my nocturnal adventures in the hospital.

  “So who do you think he was?” she asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  “It was awfully late for a consultation.”

  “You’re right, hun. I hadn’t thought of that. I was so busy trying to explain my own presence I forgot that at three in the morning, he was out of place as well.

  We were both snuggled down in my cozy queen-sized bed. It was one of those beautiful fall nights when you could leave the windows open to hear the cr
ickets and shiver delightfully under the quilt when an occasional cool breeze entered the room.

  “Let’s see,” Cassie mused sleepily. “‘P’ stands for psychiatry, psychology, physical training…”

  “I think they call it ‘rehab,’ now.” I raised up on my elbow to ask, “Is there any more ginger ale?”

  Cass hopped up and poured some ginger ale over my melting ice cubes.

  She slid quickly back under the covers and warmed her cold feet on mine.

  “Brrr! It’s getting cooler. Don’t hog all the quilt.”

  She continued her litany of “p’s.”

  “Phototherapy….”

  “Try again,” I chuckled in the midst of a deep yawn.

  “Pharmacy….”

  “Cassie!”

  She jumped out of bed in alarm.

  “What is it? Do you need to throw up again? I’ll get the basin.”

  “No! No, you guessed it! I should have thought of it myself. Of course! He was from the pharmacy. Bring me my jeans.”

  “Please.”

  “Please, bring me my jeans.”

  Cassie retrieved my jeans from the heap of dirty clothes I had abandoned on the floor when I felt my stomach rebelling against my eating habits. I fished around in my pockets.

  “Rats!”

  “What, Mom?”

  “I forgot to pick up my nickel and dime from the bathroom floor.” I dug deeper down. “Oh, here it is.”

  I produced the paper syringe sleeve I had found in Mabel’s room last night. We turned the bedside light up and examined my find.

  “What’s so exciting about that? I imagine people from the pharmacy come into sick people’s rooms with needles all the time,” she said.

  “Not to administer medicine all by themselves, they don’t. You should know that, Miss Candy Striper.”

  “You’re right, Mom!”

  She sat up and gave me a high five.

  “A pharmacist would never give anyone medicine, much less an injection. Only doctors and nurses can do that. Anyone else would get in major trouble.”

  “That’s right. And do you notice anything else about my little treasure?”

  She picked up the paper and examined it closely.

  “It smells funny.” She gingerly took another sniff. “Smells like a barbecue.”

  “It smells like a fire. Like a fire that burned down a certain doctor’s office a week ago.”

  “Wow!”

  “Quite.”

  Another dose of Pepto-Bismol set my innards straight, and I was able to fall asleep around three o’clock. I was afraid this late night stuff was getting to be a habit. This last week had been murder on my sleeping patterns. It would catch up with me sooner or later. Cassie shook me awake at seven.

  “I simply cannot believe this!” I shouted angrily. “I stay up until three for days on end trying to help you and your boyfriend, and you won’t let me sleep late, ever! You’re in real trouble, Missy!”

  Cassie whispered softly and urgently, “Mom, please keep your voice down. Ethan just called me. He’s escaped from jail. He wants me to meet him tonight and help him get out of town.”

  I sat up and stared at her in disbelief. He was headstrong and determined to do things his own way, but I had a hard time believing Ethan McHenry was a complete idiot.

  “Why in the blue-eyed world would he do something so incredibly stupid?”

  “I don’t know, Mom.”

  Cass shook her lovely head in misery. She was shivering and I realized the room was very cold. The windows were still wide open and the temperature had dropped significantly during the night. I pulled her in bed under the quilt and held her close.

  “And why,” I continued angrily, “would he try to involve you in something that could get you into serious trouble with the law?”

  “I guess you were right, Mom. When you said he was a maverick, I mean. This is a very foolish thing to do, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, my sweet. He just signed away his rights to having me for a happy mother-in-law.”

  Cassandra sat up and looked me straight in the eye.

  “Mom, let’s not go there right now. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I agreed grumpily.

  I was of half a mind to call the police and turn the silly jackass in. I had lost too much sleep and given up too much time and energy on him. I could put a stop to things right here and now with one phone call.

  Cassie read my mind as usual.

  “And we aren’t going to turn him in either, agreed?”

  “But, Cass…”

  “But nothing, Mom. Ethan had a reason for doing what he did. I’m sure of it. He asked me to trust him and I do.”

  “Still?”

  “Well…yes.”

  “You don’t sound absolutely certain. You know you might go to jail if you meet him tonight. If you help him get away and he’s convicted, you most certainly will serve some time. Are you willing to accept that?”

  “Mom, he sounded so desperate.” Her voice was hoarse with anxiety. “He said it was a matter of life and death. He’s sure his life is in danger.”

  “Oh, Cassie! That’s absurd! Andy Joiner put Ethan in Teddyville to protect him.”

  “All I can do is tell you what he said. And I believe him. At least I believe that he believes it.”

  “Good grief!”

  “Are you coming with me?”

  “Me? Where?”

  “To meet Ethan tonight, or actually early tomorrow morning.”

  She raised her head up and looked at me again. Her dark eyes were shining with unshed tears. Her fresh young face was clean and without a trace of makeup. Cassie was always in motion. It wasn’t until moments like this, when she was still, that the full reality of her beauty hit me. It always amazed me, even though I was her mother and saw her every day. The most amazing thing of all was that her face was only a mirror to the beauty within.

  I knew I would go with her to meet Ethan, and so did she.

  “Where?”

  “He said to meet him where we had our first kiss.”

  “Ah ha! And just where was that? I’ve always wanted to know.”

  “Over in the field beyond the lake. Near where we found our Christmas tree last year.”

  “Au bois! What time?”

  “Two-thirty in the morning.”

  “Okay, then let’s get busy.”

  She looked at me quizzically.

  “I thought you would want to go back to sleep. It’s going to be a long night.”

  “It’s going to be an even longer day. Hop up! We’ve got a bunch to do.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Aggie was waiting patiently outside the bedroom door for her mistress. Cassie slipped a pair of my sweatpants and a sweater on over her pajamas to take the puppy for a morning walk.

  I deliberated over whether or not to tell Mother about our plans while I showered and dressed. Finally, I put it in the back of my mind. After all, I had all day to mull it over.

  My stomach felt normal again and I was hungry for breakfast. I knew better than to ask for anything more than “a middle-aged woman’s fare” after last night. Mother was probably on her high horse about my stomach proving her right. But she surprised me with a lovely bowl of oatmeal topped with yoghurt and honey.

  “The phone rang early this morning, but I was too sleepy to answer. Do you know who it was dear?”

  “Eh, no.” Lie numero uno. I felt my nose growing longer.

  “Mabel called a little later. She asked if we could come by for a moment.”

  “Surely she doesn’t need anything from the grocery?” I answered somewhat irritably.

  “Paisley, that’s unkind.”

  I felt like a rat, a rat with a long nose.

  “I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right. I’m a naughty brat and I behaved like a rotten two-year-old yesterday. Forgive me?”

  I stood up and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. She smiled and patted me on the head. I w
as forgiven. I stopped and admired the trim figure she cut in her navy blazer, blue-and-white striped shirt, and grey slacks. The red and yellow Ralph Lauren silk scarf at her throat was a perky touch.

  “You look very nice this morning. All dressed up for something special?”

  “Miss Lolly Parsons called earlier and asked me to come over for a visit.”

  “Wow, you’re really in demand today. What’s the occasion?”

  “Honestly, I have no idea, Paisley. I’m very curious myself.”

  Cassie came stumbling in the back door with Aggie barking and dancing around her feet. Her hair was tousled and the color was high in her cheeks.

  “Gran! Mom!”

  “Close the door, dear, and please don’t slam…”

  The sound of the door slamming set Aggie to barking again.

  “Never mind, dear.”

  Mother’s sigh was full of resignation. I knew she was certain that neither Cassie nor I would ever grow up.

  Cassie sat down and struggled to get her breath.

  “There are policemen all over,” she panted. “There are two cars at the bottom of the drive and two men in front and two or three out back. We’re surrounded!”

  “Oh, my God.”

  Once again I had visions of myself growing old behind bars.

  “Well, I never! This is simply ridiculous. I cannot have my home invaded. Hand me the phone Cassandra. I’m calling Andy Joiner. I hope he has an explanation for this intrusion.”

  “You don’t need to call, Mother. He’s coming up the walk.”

  I grabbed Cassie by the arm and whispered urgently in her ear.