Olivia walked among the cots, stepping softly to avoid disturbing the sleeping men. Dawn was beginning to touch the eastern windows with pale light.
She turned to nod at Mrs. Thorner as she extinguished the last lamp. Olivia watched the woman walk down the long corridor, her feet dragging with weariness as she went up the stairs to bed. Dr. Whitt finished checking a fresh amputation. Nodding at Olivia, he left. She knew he would be sleeping in the attic of the hospital, ready to come if they needed him. Olivia turned back to her patients.
Billy was awake; she felt his eyes, sensed his restlessness and made her way through the corridor. She bent over him. “Am I going to make it?” he asked.
“If you try. Your fever is down, but you haven’t been eating. How about some milk?” He started to shake his head, but closed his eyes and nodded.
Olivia carried a mug of milk to him and lifted his shoulders. She watched him struggle with the milk. Smiling down at him, she pushed the red curls off his forehead. He studied each detail of her face. “You’re always here, except when that girl comes. Is she your sister?” Olivia shook her head and held the mug for him. “Do you have a loved one fighting?”
She hesitated. “My brother is in the army.”
“That’s all? I’d guessed you were married, maybe had children.” She bit her lip and blinked back the tears. Billy raised himself on one arm. “I think I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry. Is that why you wear that pretty brooch?”
“Yes,” she whispered, “to remember—and strangely, to hope even when there’s no hope. I’ve tried to accept. I just get to the place where it seems real, and then—”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, Billy. Sometimes at night the Lord seems unusually close to me. Sometimes I dream—” She got to her feet and tried to smile. “That’s enough for now. I need to bring hot water and washcloths. If you drink enough of that milk, perhaps by next week you’ll be helping me.”
He grinned. “When you talk like that, you remind me of my mother, and I wouldn’t dare disobey her.” He settled back, and she saw the faraway expression in his eyes.
Olivia carried the hot water and cloths to the first bed. “Good morning, Harold,” she whispered to the older man. He would be leaving soon. “The tough ones always make it, don’t they?” she murmured, handing him soap.
“Looks that way,” he muttered. He jerked his head toward Billy. “Those stomach wounds are bad. Poor young’un hasn’t even had a chance at life.”
Blinking at the tears in her eyes, she glanced at the empty bed beside Harold. Roger had been there until last week; now it was waiting for another patient.
Lettie came into the room, picked up a container of hot water, and passed Olivia with a nod and smile.
When Olivia went after the porridge and coffee, Lettie was waiting to help. “What’s the problem?” she asked, picking up the tray of mugs.
“It’s just Billy; I worry about him so much. Lettie, I’m convinced he isn’t trying.”
“Don’t say that.” She stepped close and peered into Olivia’s face. “You agonize over these men. It’s too much. You can love them and care for them, but you must learn to forget them.”
“But not Billy,” Olivia whispered. “Not as long as he’s here.”
“You’ve forgotten how to laugh,” Olivia said and turned away. Lettie added, “Remember, the joy of the Lord is your strength.”
“Nurse! Olivia!” Hearing the shout, she ran. “Something’s come loose,” Harold cried. “Where the doctor amputated—it’s bleeding.”
Maggie rushed past. “The doctor is sleeping; get him!”
Olivia ran. Dr. Whitt met her on the stairs, looked at her face, and took the stairs in a leap.
It was late afternoon when Dr. Whitt leaned back and grinned. “Looks like he’s going to make it. Thanks to you, Harold, we got that artery in time.” He looked at Olivia. “Go take a walk.”
Olivia changed clothes and started toward the park. Just as she rounded the corner, she saw bright red curls bobbing under a parasol coming her way. “Beth!” The girl’s startled face appeared. “I thought you were going to run me through with that parasol.”
“Sorry. I was coming to see you. Didn’t realize it was a dangerous weapon.” Soberly she stared at the tip of her parasol while Olivia watched her.
“Shall we walk in the park? It’s cool under the trees.”
“Yes.” Beth nodded. She glanced at Olivia. “I have some questions to ask. I read those verses last night.”
“Let’s find a bench in the shade, and I’ll answer the best I can,” Olivia murmured. She sat down beside Beth and watched her pull the Bible out of her bag. In an instant, while Beth fumbled through the pages, Olivia remembered Alex’s hands on her Bible, moving down the text with his finger. She could nearly hear his voice. She felt tears spring to her eyes. Olivia sank her teeth into her lip until the pain chased the tears away.
“What does repentance mean?”
Olivia caught her breath. She swallowed hard, and with her voice husky, said, “Alex told me it means to turn around and take the way you should go.”
Beth looked puzzled, but she took out her paper and pencil. She muttered, “Go back the way you should go.” She wrote the words carefully, then looked up at Olivia. “I still don’t understand.”
“God created man to be perfect and holy. When He tells us to repent, He’s saying we should come back to Him, start over again, and learn to be His child.”
“How can that be?”
“Remember, Jesus’ atonement for our sins makes us sinless in God’s sight. Now we only have to live in obedience to Him, just the way He wanted Adam and Eve to live.” Olivia sighed heavily. “Oh, Beth, I’m struggling so hard to say it all. I wish Alex were here to say it better.” She pushed her fingers against her eyes and whispered, “All day it’s been like this. Suddenly it’s difficult to believe he’s gone. I thought I’d struggled to accept for the last time; now it’s more difficult than ever.”
“Would you rather I didn’t ask?” Beth’s voice was low. “I can wait.”
Olivia dropped her hands. “No, you can’t wait. Now, tell me what else is on your mind.”
Beth fumbled with the pencil. “What does it mean to be born again?”
“Oh, from John chapter three. That happens when we accept Christ’s atonement. All things become new in Jesus Christ.” Olivia watched Beth write the phrase on her paper.
Beth lifted her face, frowned, and asked, “What does it mean when it says that if we don’t believe we’re condemned already.”
“Beth, it’s the difference between life and death. We’re pronounced guilty if we don’t believe.” Beth hesitated, then slowly wrote more words on her paper.
“It isn’t complete, but there’s enough for me to recall what you’ve said.”
“Beth, you’re very troubled. Do you want to tell me about it?”
“No, there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s my problem. I’ve got myself into the mess, and now I’ll have to find a way out.”
Olivia wondered how far she dared probe. Gently she said, “It would be easier if you had God’s help. A child of God needs only to ask.”
“There’s too much. I can’t load you with my problems.”
“Beth, you’ve changed so much in these past months. When you came to Pennsylvania, you were a lighthearted, carefree—”
“Child,” Beth supplied with a bitter smile. “I found out I can’t remain a child forever. I must grow up, or—”
“Or what?” Olivia saw the bleak expression in Beth’s eyes. “Beth, you’re totally miserable. Please, wouldn’t talking help?”
Beth shielded her eyes with her hand. “It’s terrible. I just can’t bear to lose your friendship.” She dropped her hand. “Do you know you’re my only real friend?”
“I thought real friends were for times like this.”
“You’re so—holy.”
Olivia shook her head. “I’m only letting God remake me into what He wants. Alex could tell you what a terrible person I was.”
“How do you know what God wants you to be?”
“I don’t, but He says that He’s not going to stop until He’s done or I’m done letting Him.” She smiled briefly and added, “Today was a day I’d like to stop being a nurse. But I’ll keep at it, trying to be what He wants.”
“God makes you?”
“No, God makes me want to do it until I can’t abide not doing it.” Olivia looked at Beth. “We’re trying to address your problem.”
With her head down, Beth muttered, “I did a really terrible thing to a friend. She tried to help me become a better person, and I—Olivia, that isn’t all. Now I’m getting involved in something that’s very bad.”
Olivia sighed. “And I’m supposed to help you with that little information? I say tell your friend you are sorry—if you are. If you are involved with people you shouldn’t be, then get out. But Beth, this is all just my advice. What you really need is—”
“I need God. Right?” Beth’s voice was bitter. “Olivia, I don’t think I want God until I’m ready to die.”
“And if you come to Him then, you’ll realize He intended to help you live. Surely that’s the worst part of dying for a Christian—not having given God a chance to do with us all that He planned from the very beginning of time.”
There were tears in Beth’s eyes. She got up, shook her head, and charged down the path to the street. When she disappeared from sight, Olivia slowly stood and began her walk back to the hospital. Dear Lord, something is terribly wrong. Please help Beth. Don’t let her destroy herself.
****
The following day Billy died. At breakfast time, with a mug of milk in her hand, Olivia bent to lift his head. There was a trace of blood on his colorless lips. He smiled and tried to speak.
Trembling, she went to Dr. Whitt. “It’s Billy,” she whispered, blinking tears away. From a distance she watched the doctor bend over him, then shake his head. For a moment his hand lingered on Billy’s shoulder.
Dr. Whitt came back to Olivia, took the mug, and drank the milk. “Better stay with him. It won’t be long.”
She knelt beside his cot. There was a scrap of paper in his hand. “Would you write—my mother?”
“Yes.” She took the address and wiped the blood from his mouth. “Billy, are you trusting Jesus as your Savior?”
He nodded. There was a hint of a smile on his face. “Forever, since I was a little tyke.”
She took his hand. “Would you like me to read the Bible to you?”
He shook his head. “Sing that new song, about His truth marching on.”
Her voice was robust as she sang the words that had constantly flowed through her mind since she first heard them. “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord…His truth is marching on!…In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me….”
His eyes were closed, his hand limp. She stayed on her knees, tears dampening the flecks of blood on her apron.
When she stood and slowly walked down the corridor, the final line rang in her ears: As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free. While God is marching on.
Dr. Whitt met her at the foot of the stairs. “After you’ve written that letter, I want you to pack your bags and go home. Mrs. Duncan, you are in no condition to continue this work.”
She listened in dismay. “Dr. Whitt, please don’t send me away. This is the only thing in my life that is important. Please don’t deny me this task.”
“I am afraid for your life.”
Her head jerked up. She looked up at him, strangely. So that’s the meaning of the dream! “Dr. Whitt, I beg you, don’t send me away. If the time comes when I can’t work, I’ll leave.”
He sighed. “Very well. But Mrs. Duncan, I’ve noticed you have lost weight. You must consider your health.”
“I will; and thank you, sir.”
She started up the stairs, smiling for the first time in weeks. If Alex can’t come to me, she thought, then perhaps I’ll go to him.