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ALICE FIDGETED. IT was November and two weeks had passed since Harry came home and he hadn’t returned to see her. True, they were still under house quarantine, but he hadn’t even telephoned.
She stuck out her tongue and let Doc look down her throat. “I really am feeling much better.” Sitting around doing nothing all day wasn’t what she needed, not anymore. She’d spent weeks resting. She was going stir-crazy. She needed to convince Doc, and Jack, to allow her to return to a more normal life—whatever normal meant during a quarantine.
“How’s your cough?”
“Gone.”
He looked up at her over his glasses. “Alice?”
She squirmed. “Well, almost gone. I hardly cough at all anymore.”
“And your appetite?”
“Strong as ever.”
Jack chimed in. “She still tires easily, though.”
She narrowed her eyes and stared at him. “True, but Jack’s been a great help.” She didn’t need his help, but it was what Doc wanted to hear. “He does all the heavy farm work. He won’t hardly let me lift a finger. Makes me lie down every day after lunch, even when I don’t need to rest.”
“Excellent!” Doc nodded and put away his instruments, latching his black bag. “I think it’s safe to lift your quarantine. But remember, the town’s still under a general quarantine until further notice.” He turned to Jack. “And how are you holding up? All this work hard on the leg? Brace still working all right for you?”
“Never felt better.”
“What about you, Doc?” Alice reached out to touch her dear friend’s arm. “Are you getting much sleep? Is it bad in town? Are many people sick?” She hesitated, afraid to ask the unthinkable as the mantle clock ticked away the seconds. Birds sang cheery songs in the trees outside the open window. Alice wished they would stop. She marched across the room and closed the window on their happy tune.
Jack asked the question she couldn’t bring herself to ask. “How many have died?”
Doc took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before putting them back on. He sighed. “I haven’t seen anything like this since I was a child.”
Jack opened the icebox. “We were about to have some lunch. Join us. You have to eat.” He pulled out a plate of sandwiches.
Alice pushed up from her chair. “I’ll get you some coffee.” She was keenly aware he hadn’t answered Jack’s question. “Or would you prefer something cold?”
“Coffee, thank you.” He accepted the cup with a weary slump of his shoulders.
“How many?” she asked again, setting plates for them and opening the last of her mother’s canned applesauce from the year before. Soon she’d have to find time to make more. They were planning to do that before . . .
“Too many.” He interrupted her thoughts of her mother.
She sat across from him and put a sandwich on her plate. “Anyone we know?”
“Verna Johanson.”
“The organist at Faith Presbyterian? She’s so young. Why, she was only a year ahead of me in school.”
Doc nodded. “This one seems to take the young and healthy first. Last week it was the cobbler, Lars Hanson, followed quickly by all four of their children.”
Alice took a small bite of her sandwich but found it difficult to swallow. “Poor Martha.” Her chest and throat tightened as she tried to choke down the tears.
“She wasn’t even able to attend her own family’s funeral, what there was of one. Only a quick burial, with a short prayer after. That’s all they’re allowing now. I left her standing in the front window as the undertaker’s cart drove away.”
Alice knew what it was like to have her parents one minute then wake and find them gone and buried without a goodbye the next. “I should go see her. Would that be all right?” At least Jack kept the loneliness from her. Then Harry returned from the war.
“No need. I found her dead when I checked on her the next day.”
Alice gasped and dropped her spoon full of applesauce, splattering the front of her blouse. She dabbed at the spots with a napkin. “She got sick and died that quickly?”
“Suicide. She used Lars’ leather cutter on her wrists.”
Alice covered her face with her hands and cried. “An entire family gone.”
“And the Hanson’s aren’t the only ones. Many do recover, as you did, but I can’t help wondering how many more I could save if I only had help, some young doctor just starting out to send on one call while I’m on another. At the very least, a nurse.”
They ate in silence, with only the endless ticking of the clock and the ever-cheerful birds to fill the space around them. Alice wiped her eyes and nibbled at her sandwich, mulling over what Doc said about needing help. Then it struck her. The perfect answer to his problem.
“Me. I can help you. I can go with you right now if you like.”
Jack threw his napkin onto his plate. “No. You’ve been sick. You need to rest.”
Alice squeezed his hand. “Yes, I’ve been sick, but now I’m well. It makes me the perfect person to help. I can’t get the influenza again. Isn’t that right, Doc? And I’m no longer contagious. He said as much when he lifted our quarantine.”
Jack pulled his hand away. “Tell her she needs more rest.”
Doc sighed. He looked from Jack to Alice and back again. “I really could use the help.”
Alice’s heart raced at the thought of doing anything other than sitting or napping. She was already making a mental list of all the tasks she could do to help. Since her parents died, each long day ran into the next. “Where do we start?”
“I’ve organized a temporary hospital ward in the school gymnasium. You can start there. I’ll show you the ropes this afternoon then tomorrow you can watch over those patients while I make the rounds of the farms.”
Jack shook his head. “I know you, Alice. You’ll overdo it.”
“I’ll be fine, I promise.” She always could talk Jack into seeing her side, even when they were children on the school playground. He was the first boy to give in and allow her to play baseball with them during recess.
“We’ll start with mornings only,” Doc assured him. “You can pick her up yourself, Jack. Be certain she goes straight down for a rest after her lunch.”
“Agreed.” Alice nodded. “Let me grab my hat and shawl and I’ll be ready to go.”
* * *
“I THOUGHT WE’D STOP at the cemetery first.” Doc turned his buggy onto the tree-lined lane leading to the town’s final rest.
Alice fought her tears. “I’d like that.” She had asked Jack several times to take her to see her parents’ graves. When you’re stronger, he’d always promised.
The last of the autumn leaves made for both a bright canopy and the start of a warm, colorful quilt waiting to be pieced together under their feet. The number of fresh mounds with only a simple cross and tag to say who lay beneath, broke her heart. She walked slowly between the rows, stopping to read the names of those she’d seen or spoken to not so long before, but whose face was now only a memory.
How long before even the memories fade away?
Next to Lizzie’s father, a fresh grave. Alice’s hand shook as she reached for the marker tag. She took a deep breath before turning it over to read. Alma Hudson. Poor Lizzie.
“Yesterday.” Doc stood behind her.
“Why didn’t someone tell me?” Pine Lake Girls, friends forever.
“Fin’s with her.”
“She should have at least called me. I understand how she’s feeling right now.”
Doc led her away with a hand on her back. “I’m sure she would have, but Iris is sick, too.”
No wonder she hadn’t heard from Harry, and why she hadn’t been able to get a line through to him. Without Iris to connect them, Pine Lake was without telephone service.
Then, there in the center of all her Armstrong and Lund kin, were the two graves she longed to see, yet most dreaded. Doc held her tight as she leaned against his shoulder and cried.
* * *
DOC TRIED TO GIVE HER an idea of what to expect, but nothing he said prepared her for what waited inside. Even before they opened the big double doors to the gymnasium, she was struck by the smell of unwashed bodies. Death hung thick and heavy in the air like an invisible fog. The familiar sounds of coughing fits and moans of agony assaulted her ears. A child cried.
The greatest shock came when he opened the doors and ushered her in. This was not the gymnasium she remembered. The basketball hoops still hung from each end, but where were the laughing young men racing up and down the court trying to get a shot in for their team? Painted court lines were hidden beneath rows of cots, and on each cot a patient tossed and writhed, struggling to breathe. Missing were the young girls in their red athletic dresses and bloomers doing calisthenics during physical education class.
There was none of the joy, only suffering and sadness. No wonder Doc was so tired. It wasn’t possible for one man to minister to all these people then drive out to the many remote homes and farms.
What have I gotten myself into? Alice accepted the apron Doc offered and tied it around her waist.
He handed her a notepad and pencil. “You’ll want to take notes.” He led her to their first patient.
* * *
ALICE CHECKED THE CLOCK over the gymnasium doors. Jack would be coming for her in a half hour, and she’d promised to be waiting out front, but there was something she needed to do first. She knew neither Jack nor Doc, would approve, so she would have to hurry.
Doc was sitting at his make-shift desk, recording patient notes in the journal he always carried. It was filling up fast. Once the quarantine was over and the store reopened, she would order him a nice new leather-bound one as a thank you for everything he’d done. Maybe Erikson’s would have one in stock.
Doc set down his pen and closed the book. “I hope you aren’t overdoing it.”
“Actually, I am a little tired.” It wasn’t a lie. “I thought I’d go and sit on the bench out front and get some fresh air while I wait for Jack. Maybe even close my eyes for a few minutes.”
“Splendid idea. Have yourself some dinner, a good night’s sleep, and you should be ready to go in the morning.”
“Thank you.” Alice untied her apron and folded it neatly over a chair. “I’ll see you then.” She hurried out of the gymnasium and down the front stairs of the school.
The only person Alice saw as she slipped around the side of Lizzie’s house was Betty watching from the kitchen window. She’d clearly been crying. Betty kissed her fingertips and pressed them to the window. For Lizzie, she mouthed. Alice smiled and nodded. Betty touched her heart, paused, and laid it palm open in front of her. For you.
Alice repeated the motion and blew her a kiss. Betty closed the curtains and was gone.
Alice didn’t stop to knock at the back door. Instead, she walked straight in as she’d probably done a thousand times before. Mrs. Hudson had always been like a second mother to her, and she knew she was welcome anytime.
“Lizzie?” She found her in the front parlor, held tight in Fin’s arms. “Oh, Lizzie, I just heard.” She ran to her friend and knelt in front of her, taking Lizzie’s hands in hers. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll go make us some tea.” Fin stood. “Give you two time alone.” He leaned over and touched Lizzie’s cheek.
She sniffled. “That would be nice.”
Alice took his place next to Lizzie. “None for me, thank you. I only have a few minutes. I have to get back before they discover I’m gone.”
“You stay here with Alice, sweetheart, and I’ll return with your tea.”
Lizzie nodded, wiped her eyes on her already soaked handkerchief, and leaned into Alice’s shoulder.
“Here, take mine,” Alice pulled a fresh one from her skirt pocket.
Lizzie ran her finger over the embroidered violets. “I gave this to you on your last birthday. I told you I stitched it, but really my mother did. I tried, truly I did, but my stitches came out all messy and uneven.” She opened the wet mass she’d set aside and showed Alice the crooked purple and green stitches. “See? This one was supposed to be yours.”
Alice laughed despite her best efforts to keep a straight face. “We’ll work on your embroidery. You have a lifetime to improve.”
“What am I going to do without her?” Lizzie held the fresh handkerchief to her cheek. “I’m an orphan now.” She gasped. “We both are. Oh, Alice, I’m so sorry.”
“Hush. We have each other. You have Fin. I have Harry. There’s Jack. And Betty. She sends her love and kisses.”
“You talked to Betty? How is she?”
“I didn’t actually talk to her, but I saw her through the window. She looks well.”
“I’m glad. Pine Lake Girls, friends forever.”
Alice held Lizzie close as a new round of sobbing shook her.
Fin returned, placing a cup of hot tea in Lizzie’s hands. “Careful. You might want to blow on it first.”
Alice stood to leave. “I’ll be back later to check on you.”
Lizzie nodded and sipped her tea. “Thank you.”
“We’ll get through this, Lizzie. Together.”