A rooster crowed and broke into the dream, but I drifted back to sleep until all of a sudden the sun was shining and Aunt Alice was rattling dishes and firing up the stove. Everything that happened yesterday, the mad dog, the blonde haired girl and those men in white hoods popped into my head like when you wake up and can’t be sure if something really happened or if it was a dream. I got a panicky feeling and remembered I had to take Doctor Steele to the Bontrager place. I sneaked down the path to the outhouse and when I come back, Aunt Alice had pumped a basin of water. She watched while I splashed water on my face, then she went to work with soap and a rag until my neck and ears were rubbed raw. Aunty had her hair done up in a tight bun and was dressed in her long black bombazine skirt, white shirtwaist and an apron. Her plumpish cheeks were red and a little sweaty from the stove. “Put on your Sunday clothes and see if your pa is awake,” said she.
Aunt Alice was really Mother’s aunt. When her husband blew himself up taking out a stump, she came and lived with us while Mother was sick with childbed fever. After Mother and my baby sister died she moved with Pa and me from Ohio. I guess she didn’t have no place else to go, seeing as how she never had any children of her own. Aunty made me go to Sunday school and then come home and walk her to church. I generally didn’t lie to her unless I really had to but this time there wasn’t no chance to fib. I had to tell her about driving the new doctor to a farm way out in the country.
Pa was stretched out on the bed with the covers flung aside. He must have taken an extra dose of laudanum because he wouldn’t come awake when I shook him. By the time I dressed in my Sunday clothes. Aunt Alice had put a bowl of raspberries with sugar and cream and a plate of pancakes on the table. She said grace and read some Scripture about temptation and then I ate up the raspberries and a stack of pancakes slathered with butter and honey. According to the kitchen clock, it was goin’ on eight. I couldn’t put off telling her any longer.
“Aunt Alice, I got somethin’ to tell you.”
She fixed me with her pale, blue eyes and her hand fluttered at her throat. “Are you in a scrape again?”
“It ain’t trouble. It’s about everything that happened yesterday.”
“I heard all about the new doctor and that girl. But what does that have to do with you?”
“I promised to drive him out to the Bontrager place so he can look at the girl’s broken leg.”
“ But what about Sunday school and church?”
“That’s just it, I can’t go. I promised to help the doctor.”
Her old face fell, she pursed her lips and her hands, which were red and knobby from hard work, fluttered at her throat. She shook her head. “Not go to church? Why, I never heard of such a thing.”
“I’ll go to the evening service.”
That seemed to mollify her because she knew that I would do most anything to get out of church on Sunday evening. That was when Pa read stories and told about what it was like when he lived in Maine next to the Atlantic Ocean. It was the only time of the week when he talked or did anything except work in the store and worry about the mortgage money. “I suppose you won’t even be home in time for dinner?”
I hadn’t thought about that. It would take at least an hour to get the buggy and the horse and the doctor, and more than an hour to drive out in the country, and longer to get back home, because the horse would be tired. It would take more time for the doctor to look at the girl’s broken leg.
“No, ma’am, I guess not.”
She rested her chin on her hand and turned her watery blue eyes on me, then ruffled my hair.
“Oh, Tom, you will be the death of me yet, with all your traipsing around. You are getting too big for me to handle, but if you promised the doctor, you have to go. Does it have anything to do with that Bontrager girl? I hear she is getting to be right pretty.”
I looked down at my plate, like there was another scrap of pancake that needed to be eaten and musta turned all red in the face. “Aunt Alice, I better get along to the livery stable.”
She cut a big piece of ham and two slices of bread and wrapped the food in a dish cloth and then poured milk into a pint mason jar. “Take this, at least you won’t go hungry.”
I looked in the hall mirror and tried to slick down my cowlick with some spit but my hair is just naturally unruly. I squinched my eyes and pushed my jaw forward, but my face looked pretty much the same. All the Indian fighters in the books had square jaws, even white teeth and coal black hair. My hair was sort of light brown and my front teeth were uneven. It didn’t seem fair, especially since I was going to see Rachel.
I took off my Sunday shoes, so’s to run faster because the livery stable was next to the depot, nearly a mile from our house. When I got there, Pete Stickle was pitching hay to the horses because old man Armbruster, the regular stableman, always got drunk on Saturday night and hardly ever sobered up until Monday morning. Aunt Alice told me to stay away from Pete because his family was worthless trash. I never paid her no attention because Pete knew everything about horses and could find rabbits and knew the best spots to catch bass. He quit school to support his family because his father hadn’t been right in the head after he come home from the war.
“Hiya Pete! I’m taking the new doctor to the Bontrager place. Could I use the surrey and that high stepping chestnut mare?
Pete put down his pitch fork and spit. “Mr. Duke always uses the surrey and that mare on Sunday morning.”
“It didn’t cost nothing to ask,” I said.
“For a dollar, you can have the buggy and Pepper, the old gray, but you gotta be back before the afternoon train. It’s spoke for then.”
I helped roll out the buggy while Pete got the sway-backed mare.
“Pepper will trot pretty good, but let her rest and be sure she drinks plenty of water,” Pete said.
It felt pretty good, up there on the seat, drivin’ toward the Camp House. I waved to kids going to Sunday school but didn’t say anything, so as not to make jealous.
Dr. Steele came down from the front steps, swung his black bag up behind the seat and got in. I backed the horse, turned the buggy around and drove up Third Street to Western Avenue. He nodded but didn’t even say good morning. Mebbe he forgot who I was. I flicked the reins and got Pepper up to a pretty good trot. We rolled along and kickin’ up a good cloud of dust by the time we left town and went past the cemetery. The sun wasn’t in our eyes and it had cooled down. The doctor took a thick book from his bag, opened it to a mark and it was like he got lost in reading. He paid no attention to the road, the dried out fields or the puny cattle. It took nearly an hour to get to where the road went along Coffee creek. I stopped and let Pepper drink, from the muddy trickle of water. I was bustin’ to tell about the white robed men who were going to run him out of town. He didn’t seem to be in the mood for conversation until he put the book down.
“Sure been dry this year. Ain’t much water in the crick,” I said.
He left the book open on his lap and looked at the dry weeds and cottonwood trees which were already losing their leaves.
“I could use something to drink, but that water looks too muddy,” he said.
“Here’s some milk.” I passed him the Mason jar.
He drank the milk without stopping and wiped his chin.
“That tasted fine, just fine, thank you.”
“Did you have breakfast? I asked. “No”. “You can have the ham and bread.” He ate all of it and wiped his face with the back of his sleeve.
“That tasted good, thank you again. Did your mother make that?
“No sir, mother died with the birth sickness. Aunt Alice made the sandwich.”
“I’m sorry about your mother,” he said.
I’d been craning my neck to see what he was reading on account of I like book reading about as well as anything. Sometimes when reading a book, I felt like I was a long way from Sandy Ford and that maybe on the next page there would be a whole different world. Aunt Alice had a whole lot of books.
“Here, take the book. I’ll drive for a while,” he said.
He took the reins and got the horse back on the road. I couldn’t make head nor tail out of the book. I marked the place with a finger and turned some more pages. It was about doctoring because there were pictures of different operations. I looked at some more pictures and closed the book. “It looks like regular writing, but I can’t read it.”
“It is written in French.”
“How come you are reading a book in French?”
“After I finished Rush Medical College, I went to Paris, learned French and studied at the medical school. This book shows how to treat crossed eyes and babies with harelips better than any book in English.”
“But you studied in Edinburgh, Scotland.”
“I spent a year in Paris then went to Edinburgh to learn about Dr. Lister’s antiseptic method of preventing wound infections.”
“Couldn’t you have learned that stuff at Rush Medical School?”
“The doctors in this country don’t believe in germs and medical teaching is better in Europe.”
“I guess all that European stuff is why you didn’t go for your gun against Murphy,” I said.
“Tom, if you hurt another person in a fight you might feel worse than if he had hurt you. Besides, that man talked big so’s he would feel important. Men like that aren’t worth the bother.”
“That ain’t so. Last night, Billy Malone and me saw men in white hoods that was going to tar and feather you and Isaiah.”
“Are you making up a story?”
“No sir, it was Murphy’s gang. I knew it was him on account of his horse,”
“Sounds like the Klan, but they ain’t come this far north, far as I know. I ‘spect you exaggerated the whole thing. It’s just like Mr. Birt said, you read too many of those dime novels. Most likely they were just a bunch of fellows out drinking and talking.”
He turned the reins over to me. I got the sulks and figured he was a coward. If it wasn’t for the chance to see Rachel again, I shouldn’t have come with him. In a few minutes we come to a rail fence marking the Bontrager property.
The crops and the grass were green because there was a big spring about halfway up the hill. I opened the gate while Dr. Steele guided the horse up the lane past a stand of oak trees to the house in a grove of cottonwood trees. A big red barn, chicken houses and pens for cattle and hogs were out back. The square two story house was built out of clapboards and extra rooms had been tacked on one side. There were three brick chimneys and a windmill with an iron pipe running from a spring into the back of the house. Dr. Steele stopped the buggy under a tree, got down and tipped his hat to Mrs. Bontrager who had come out on the front porch.
“Good morning, I come to see your daughter,” he said.
“That’s kind of you. Mr. Bontrager and the boys are at the meeting house,” she said.
“How is she?” Dr. Steel asked.
“She was sick all night and couldn’t hold nothing in her stomach, but is better now. She is in the parlor.”
“Bring my bag,” said Dr. Steele.
I got down from the buggy, took the black bag and followed him to the house. The curtains were closed and parlor was dark and cool. The room had a pinewood floor with hand made rugs, straight backed chairs and a hard wooden bench. Rachel was on a pallet made up by the window with her hair spread out on a pillow that took on a buttery yellow color when Doc opened the curtains. She wore a right fetching clinging nightgown. I got a strange feeling like being underwater a long time and comin’ up and seeing the bright sun. She pulled a quilt up around her neck, then lay real still like she was about to die. Her face was white and her lips were clenched and her eyes were squeezed shut from pain. Dr. Steele timed her pulse with his watch and felt her forehead with the back of his hand. “Normal,” said he. His face lit up with a big smile, like a cloud had been lifted off his shoulders. “Please boil enough water for two basins,” he said.
He gave Rachel a big spoon of laudanum. While the water was boiling, Mrs. Bontrager gave us coffee and buttermilk.
When the water was ready, Rachel had closed her eyes and the pain left. I added carbolic acid to the boiled water and soaked towels and a pair of scissors.
“Scrub your hands,,” said he.
Dr. Steele cut the bandage on top of her leg. “Not a sign of infection,” he said. I helped wrap on fresh bandages and felt real proud and important.
“It looks fine, but we can’t be sure for another few days.”
Rachel was still asleep when Mr. Bontrager and his returned from the meeting house. Except for Walter, the youngest boy, they were all big with round faces and high foreheads. Dr. Steele explained that Rachel’s leg looked just fine but it would take another week before he could be sure it had healed. The Bontrager men didn’t seem any more interested if we were talking about a sick animal.
I went with Walter, the youngest brother to lead Pepper to the trough behind the barn.. While the horse ate the oats, he kicked the dirt. “ I am sure grateful to you for helping with Rachel,” he said. The dinner bell rang, We went to a long table with platters of beefsteaks, chicken, ham, mashed potatoes, gravy and sweet corn. I had never seen so much food all in one place, even at the Friday night church suppers. Mr. Bontrager said a prayer in German that seemed to go most all afternoon.. Finally, we ate until the platters were clean and I was filled to near busting. Then there was peach pie, cherry cobbler and pudding, all covered with thick sweet cream. The men washed it down with homemade beer. By the time we finished and hitched Pepper to the buggy, the sun was well past noon. I was in a big hurry to get the horse and buggy back to the livery stable in time for the afternoon train.
Just before we left, Dr. Steele stepped back into the parlor to take Rachel’s pulse one more time. I followed and stood just inside the door. Her eyes were wide open. “Thank you,” she said.
I stood there, grinning like an idjut and all flustered. I wanted to hold her hand and tell her how beautiful she was. Instead, I backed away towards the porch and almost tripped over my own feet.
Mr. Bontrager had his leather purse in hand. “How much?”
“The horse and buggy cost a dollar,” I said.
“And a dollar for my assistant, a dollar for the medicine and bandages and a dollar for my time,” Dr. Steele said.
Mr.Bontrager clutched his purse and his face went pale under his sunburn.
“That’s pretty high and I suppose you got to come back again.”
“Yes, I’ll be back at least three more times and like I said yesterday, if your girl walks, you can decide how much it’s worth to you.”
Mr. Bontrager clinked four silver dollars into Dr. Steele’s hand.
“That makes seven dollars. I didn’t figure you was going to charge so much. Money don’t grow on trees,” he said.
Dr. Steele nodded his head and didn’t argue.
I was plumb confused. Dr. Steele didn’t talk back or stand up for his rights but he sure knew doctoring.
Pepper was tired and wouldn’t trot. Pete Stiles would be mad and Aunt Alice would have a fit if I didn’t go to the church with her. Except for seeing Rachel again, it looked like the whole day was a mistake.
“You think her leg will heal?” I asked.
“It’s got a better than even chance. If there is no pus and no fever on the first day, it’s unlikely that gangrene will set in.”
“How do you know?”
“The worst germs cause trouble right away. If pus forms after a few days it isn’t so bad and wounds usually heal. That’s why it’s called laudable pus, but any kind of pus is bad for wounds. Dr. Lister in Edinburgh found that carbolic acid kills germs, so wounds heal without infection but most doctors don’t believe in the germ theory.
“Being a doctor is fine but Pa says we ain’t got the money for college. I figure on going out west to fight Indians and outlaws.”
“Why?”
“We gotta kill the Indians, just like the Rebs,” I said.
“The Indians haven’t hurt you and neither did the Rebs. Wars start the same as when two boys get into a scrap. Neither one wants to fight because they both know that even the winner will most likely get a bloody nose or a black eye. They fight because all the other kids sick them on at each other,” Dr. Steele said.
I knew that was true for a fact.
“Men have been killing each other ever since Bible times but it isn’t right,” he said.
“What about if someone insults you or starts the fight? Were you afraid to draw on Murphy on account of you couldn’t have hit him?”
“Whoa now, stop right here.”
He reached into his black bag and pulled out that big old Navy Colt. “See that crow sittin’ on that tree limb over yonder?”
“Yes sir.”
“You take this pistol and shoot that crow. Let’s see if you are good enough to kill Indians and outlaws.”
“I ain’t never shot a pistol before,” I said.
“Go on, let’s see if you are one of those natural gunfighters.”
I aimed but my hand wobbled. It was hard to line up the sights, but I finally yanked on the trigger. The crow didn’t even move.
“Now give me that pistol.” Quick as anything, he fired. Feathers flew and the crow fell off the limb.
Pepper was hardly moving, but when the gun went off the second time, she went off like greased lightning. After he shot that crow, I decided there was something to what he said. Sometimes Pa said how important it was to relieve human misery.
“How do I go about being a doctor?”
“Study Latin and chemistry, and go to medical school for couple years. After that, if you want to learn the new scientific medicine, travel to Edinburgh or Paris. I can loan you some books.”
I did some serious thinking while we trotted along.
“Hold up, look over there,” Doctor Steele said.
A mother quail, with a half dozen chicks, no bigger than bumblebees, were catching grasshoppers in the dust. “This is right pretty country, reminds me of the farm in Indiana,” he said.
We got back to the livery stable in time, mainly on account of the afternoon train was late. Doc paid Pete Stickle the dollar and we walked along for a spell.
“Tom, thanks for your help. If you change your mind about going out west and decide to study medicine, I’ll be glad to help.”
When I got home, Aunt Alice was getting supper and was dressed for the evening church service.
“I ain’t much hungry,” said I.
“Hurry up and get ready for church,” she said.
“Aunty, I’m awful tired. It’s been a long day. Do I really hafta go?”
“You are too big for me to whip and there ain’t no way I can make you go. Maybe you just better stay with your pa anyway. He’s been awful sick today.”
Aunty got on her hat and left for church. I felt bad about talking back on account of she was such a good person.
Pa was covered with a quilt, because he felt cold, even on hot summer days. The pint jar at his bedside was about a quarter full of the greenish-yellow phlegm that he coughed up, day and night. He looked like he was asleep, but when I came into the room his eyes opened and he sat up in bed.
“Tom, I been asleep and was afraid I missed you.”
His skin was hot, there were black circles under his deep sunk eyes and his pale, blue veined hand was dry and cold and felt like it was made out of bare bones.
“Have you been away all day?” He asked.
“Yes sir, I went with the new doctor to see the girl with the broken leg. He paid me a dollar.”
“How is she?”
“She was alright. That doctor sure has funny ideas. He thinks we should have just talked to the Rebs instead of fightin’ the war.”
“He ain’t the only one who thinks that,” pa said.
“Shouldn’t we Americans stand up and fight for what’s right?”
“There’s better things in life than going away and fighting. Doctoring is a high calling. I wish we had money for your schooling.”
He lay back on the pillow, looking old and tired. I patted his hand and went away more confused than ever. It got worse when I thought about Rachel and her people who didn’t believe in wars or fighting. I had a terrible nightmare about men in white robes coming to get me and woke up in a cold sweat.