HENRY MADISON TOOK the cab from South Station to the address written on the top of the envelope.
William was sitting quiet beside him; the taxi driver glanced at him in the mirror. His brother had got himself all upset on the escalator stair in Penn Station, frightened he was going to fall off with the crush of people all around him, Henry trying to keep a hold of the sleeve of his jacket. He’d dropped a bag of peanut M&Ms and had lurched forward to try to bend down and catch them, as they skittered and bounced all over and down the moving stairs.
Henry sternly told him to leave them and he’d buy him another packet when they got to Boston.
He’d liked the train. A kind gentleman gave up his window seat so they could ride together as by the time he walked slowly to the carriage only single seats remained. Celeste, his neighbour, had suggested flying, but Henry was nervous of taking William on an airplane. He might not like or understand the notion of flight and get himself in one of his states; no, the train was a safer option.
He was tired and would have loved to close his eyes and just doze as the high-speed train hurtled between New York and Boston, but instead kept his attention on his brother who seemed fascinated by the constantly changing view.
He was nervous going to meet the healer woman in person after months of correspondence, but he’d come to look forward to those letters with their Massachusetts postmark. William looked tired and he squeezed his hand, passing him a small Hershey Cookies and Cream bar; the rest of the hidden candy he’d keep till later.
They drove through the city, with the Charles river in the distance. William closed his eyes when they entered a long tunnel, emerging in bumper to bumper heavy traffic, eventually leaving the city behind them to follow the busy highway, turning off at the exit signs for Easton. The cab came to a stop outside a white-painted colonial-style home on Mill Street, which was definitely the right address. Henry paid the driver first before getting William organized to step out, as he lifted their overnight bag.
He walked slowly up to the front porch and step, the car driver insisting on lifting the bag for him as he rang the house bell. He could feel his heart pound: what if the McGill woman wasn’t in? What if she’d forgotten the day he was coming? Or had been called away to deal with something more urgent?
The door suddenly opened wide as Martha welcomed him and brought the two of them inside, Henry introducing William and explaining how he’d had to bring him as there was no-one reliable enough to sit with him.
‘That’s all right, Henry!’ smiled the healer, shaking hands with his brother. ‘I’m honoured to meet the two of you and glad you made the trip to see me.’
Henry smiled, glad to finally have the chance to meet the woman he had so much faith in. She was younger than he’d expected, prettier too and had piercing blue-green eyes that seemed to almost see through you.
‘Let me make you a nice cup of tea or coffee. You must be exhausted after your long journey.’
‘Coffee would be nice,’ agreed Henry. ‘William likes it too.’
Martha slipped out of the room leaving the two of them sitting there, William gazing around him, trying to make sense of these new surroundings which were very different from their own small living room at home.
‘It’s all right, William, honest it is,’ Henry promised, trying to allay his fears and growing apprehension. ‘I’m here with you and I’m not going to leave.’
Martha came back into the room. ‘The coffee will be ready in a minute, my daughter will bring it in to us,’ she told them.
Henry nervously made small talk about the journey, knowing the Martha woman was looking at William.
A teenager with long dark hair and a heavy fringe carried in the tray and set it down in front of them.
‘Let me introduce my daughter, Mary Rose.’
When the girl smiled it lit up her whole face, which became extraordinarily pretty.
‘This is Henry and his brother William. Henry and I have been keeping in touch with each other over the past few months.’
He could see the kid had no interest in either of them, writing them off because of their age.
‘I brought some cookies and a few slices of that cherry cake that was in the tin.’
‘Thanks, Mary Rose, that’s great.’
Henry put the sugar and milk in William’s cup, he didn’t want him knocking the sugar all over the carpet, and put a cookie and a slice of cake on a plate for him. He had an enormous appetite and seemed to burn his food. He then turned his attention to Martha.
‘Now tell me about your arthritis and what your surgeon says,’ urged Martha gently.
Henry tried not to get himself upset when he thought of the choices ahead, his mobility becoming worse and worse and his use of painkillers growing. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ he sighed. ‘I just don’t know what to do.’
When they had finished their coffee, Martha asked if he would lie down on the couch so she could lay her hands on him. However, Henry could sense that William, having cleared his plate, was getting anxious. ‘Martha, do you mind if William watches TV or a video?’ he asked. ‘He gets bored real easy.’
‘Oh, of course not. What kind of stuff does he like?’
‘Fighting or tough stuff usually,’ he laughed.
‘Well, hold on then, I think Patrick’s copy of Gladiator is here somewhere. I’ll put it in the machine.’
‘He likes to sit right up near the TV,’ admitted Henry.
He watched as the young woman moved one of the heavy armchairs almost up in front of the screen.
‘That better?’
William nodded, already excited by the first glimpse of the Roman general and his legion.
Henry breathed an inward sigh of relief that his brother was occupied and hopefully would not disturb them.
He lay down on the couch, his shoes on the floor, his cardigan and tweed jacket folded in a neat pile as Martha stood over him.
Her hands felt soft, gentle at first, almost like a child’s lightly running across him, skimming over his frame. Henry tried to stay calm and relaxed as the healer worked.
He closed his eyes, feeling drowsy, aware of pressure, of heat pervading his tissues and bones, warming them. He could feel the intense heat radiating from the weight of those hands, to his hips, his spine, his shoulders and neck. Even his own breathing seemed different as if the air was filling his lungs, every little corner of them, bathing them with oxygen. Images of childhood, times of happiness came into his mind unbidden and he felt removed from his surroundings but unsure of where he was exactly. He was aware of Martha moving around beside him, and gave his total trust to the woman who was using her healing powers to restore him. His worries and cares seemed to slip away.
‘Henry! Henry!’
Martha was standing over him, gently touching his shoulder.
‘It’s time for you to sit up now, Henry. Take it slowly, there’s no rush.’
Henry felt mortified. ‘Was I asleep?’ he asked.
Martha laughed a little.
‘I’m so sorry, it’s just I’m so tired I guess.’
‘Listen, lots of people doze off, it’s totally normal. I just let you have a bit of peace for a while longer.’
Embarrassed, Henry pulled on his chunky cardigan and began to slip his swollen feet into his soft beige leather comfort shoes as he searched for his wallet. ‘Do you think I’m still going to need that surgery?’ he asked.
‘I’ll be honest, Henry: the hip and knees are bad, just as your doctor says, but you are strong and I don’t see any complications. Just give yourself some time. I’ve tried to lift some of the pain away for the moment, and that may help.’
‘How much do I owe you, Martha?’
‘There’s no charge, honest there’s not.’
‘But I’ve taken up so much of your time,’ he insisted.
‘It’s been a pleasure to meet you,’ smiled the healer.
Martha glanced over at William.
‘Would it be all right if I touched William?’ she asked.
His brother was engrossed in the bloody spectacle at the Roman Games, jumping up and down in the chair, and barely looked up when Martha laid her hands on his shoulders. Henry watched as she lightly touched his head and neck, a shadow of concern flitting across her face. William looked up, puzzled by the attention, his eyes connecting with Martha.
Without a word she leant forward and kissed his forehead, as you would a small, brave boy. Henry was touched by the kind gesture.
They gathered up their things, Martha insisting they have a soda before they left and ordering them a cab.
‘We’re staying overnight at the Park Plaza Hotel and getting the train back first thing in the morning. I promised William I’d take him to the Aquarium and maybe take a tour bus ride round the city.’
‘That’d be neat,’ murmured Martha, switching off the video player. William stood up immediately. Henry asked if she’d mind if they could both use the bathroom.
Henry hugged Martha close as they were leaving. He couldn’t believe it but somehow he felt connected with this person who’d been almost a stranger.
‘Now you promise me, Henry,’ said Martha, taking a hold of his hand and squeezing it, ‘that you’re going to take good care of yourself and try not to do too much.’
Henry Madison was surprised by the realization that Martha McGill genuinely cared about him and William and their difficult situation.