Friday, April 19, morning
Nell was lying on a sofa in the Cushmans’ parlor. She was shaking even though Mrs. Cushman had covered her with quilts. A cloth covered her forehead and eyes, and a hot cup of tea was on the table next to her.
“Miss Gramercy?” asked Dr. Cushman. “How are you feeling?”
“It’s only one of my headaches,” Nell answered softly. “Your wife has been very kind, but the pain sometimes lasts for hours. Please, could I have some laudanum? That would help.”
“Indeed,” answered the doctor. “May I see your eyes?” Nell took the cloth off her face and opened her eyes. The doctor looked into them carefully. Then, to my surprise, he picked up her hand and looked at her fingernails. “How long has it been since you had a dose of laudanum?” he asked.
“Not since yesterday morning, I think,” she said. “My uncle gives it to me when the headaches come, but they keep getting worse. I take it most days, especially before I have spiritual sessions. It takes the pain away for a while, and makes it easier for me to hear my voices. But then the headaches come back. Don’t you have any?”
“My dear girl, you mustn’t take any more of that drug. Laudanum is powdered opium mixed with alcohol. It can take the pain away for a while, but should only be used by adults, in extreme and limited circumstances.”
Dr. Bascomb looked over at his wife. “I’m seriously concerned about this young woman. I’ve been reading in medical journals from Europe about the dangerously addictive properties of opium. She’s showing all the signs.”
He turned back to Nell. “Miss Gramercy . . .”
“Please, call me Nell. I’m only twelve. I get so tired of being Miss Gramercy.”
“Then, Nell . . . the laudanum is hurting your body in ways that are hard to even guess at, since you’re so young. True, it will take away your pain for a few hours, but it will also destroy your life, if you continue taking it the way you have been.”
“But I can’t work when my headaches hurt so much.”
“Then you must stop working,” Dr. Cushman said. “The amount of laudanum you’re taking is actually causing the headaches. You get them when you’ve gone too long without the drug. The only way to totally stop your pain is to stop taking the laudanum.”
Nell started to cry.
“Nell,” I said, going over and sitting on the floor next to her. “What’s wrong? Is it your uncle?”
She nodded through her tears. “I can’t stop working. He won’t let me stop. My sessions support him and my aunt.”
“What about your parents, dear? Haven’t you got any other family you could live with?” Mrs. Cushman asked.
Nell shook her head. “My father died when I was little. My older brother drowned, and then Mother and my other brothers and sisters died of consumption. All of them. I was the only one left. I was going to live in the poorhouse until my uncle found out that I sometimes heard voices. He said as long as I heard voices, I had a home with him. He won’t let me stop touring. Not ever. I’ve begged him to let me, but he refuses to listen. And I have nowhere else to go.”
“That’s criminal,” said Dr. Cushman softly. “Parents and guardians have the right to raise a child as they see fit, but only within the bounds of reason and humanity. Drugging a child is a form of abuse. I wonder what Sheriff Chadbourne would say to this—a girl addicted to laudanum and forced to work against her will.”
“Would you like to stay in Wiscasset?” I asked suddenly. I hadn’t thought it through, but it made sense. “Pa’s enlisting, and with Ethan gone, it’s just Ma and me. Ma’s always said she wanted a daughter. We have room. You could stay with us.”
Everyone looked at me.
“Are you sure, Joe?” asked Dr. Cushman.
Pa said I was to be the man of the house when he was gone. I’d just made a major decision. “I’m sure.”
“I’m guessing your uncle and aunt don’t know where you are, Nell. Am I right?” said Dr. Cushman.
Nell nodded. “I sneaked out of the Mansion House late yesterday afternoon to help find Owen. My aunt and uncle would never have given me permission to leave.”
“Do you want to stay here, with Joe’s family?” Dr. Cushman looked at her seriously. “Do you want to leave your uncle and aunt and never see them again?”
Nell looked at me. Then she reached her hand out for Dr. Cushman’s. “Oh, yes. If that were possible, that’s what I would choose.”
Dr. Cushman nodded, as though he’d just made a decision, too. “Then I suggest we get you away from here as soon as we can. Dear,” he said, turning to his wife, “would you watch over Owen Bascomb while I go and pay a call on Sheriff Chadbourne and apprise him of this situation? In the meantime, Joe, you take Miss Gramercy to your home. Keep her out of sight until the sheriff or I let you know what’s to happen.”
He smiled at both of us as I helped Nell to her feet. “And I suggest both of you try to get a little sleep. It’s been a long night for all of us.”
The sun was beginning to come up over the Sheepscot as I showed Nell the long way to my house, down High Street and over to Fore Street and around, on the chance her uncle was out looking for her. We figured he’d be looking on Main Street, or Water Street, or some other section of town more centrally located.
Had Mr. Allen alerted the sheriff himself when he realized Nell was missing? Had he been searching the town for her, just as the townspeople had for Owen? Or had he kept her disappearance a secret, knowing that it could mean the end of her good reputation? Or perhaps, thinking she’d been abducted, as sometimes happened with wealthy children, he’d been waiting for a ransom note. Who knew what he’d been thinking?
All Nell and I wanted was to get to my house as quickly as we could. We slipped in through the kitchen door and were greeted by Trusty, whose barks would have wakened any neighbors not yet up. Ma and Pa were sitting at the kitchen table, where I suspected they’d been all night.
I was so relieved to be home I hardly had time to be nervous.
Ma rushed over and gave me a big hug. “Thank goodness you’re home!” she said. After hesitating a moment, she hugged Nell, too. “And you’ve brought Miss Gramercy with you, too. What a surprise! You both look in need of a hot breakfast.”
Nell smiled.
“Nell has a headache,” I started.
“It’s a little better now, thank you,” Nell said softly. “I’d love a cup of tea, please, Mrs. Wood, if it’s no trouble.”
“Of course, of course,” said Ma, bustling about. “And coffee for you, Joe, and your pa.”
“What about Owen?” said Pa. “Has anyone found him?”
“We did,” I answered as I sat down at the table. To my surprise, despite her headache, Nell helped Ma get cups out of the cabinet.
“Nell’s voices knew where to look. We found Owen at Fort Edgecomb. He’d fallen and broken his leg. He’s at Dr. Cushman’s house right now. His leg is set, and the doctor is hoping he’ll be all right. He’ll be going home in an hour or two.”
“Thank goodness,” said Pa. “We were so worried all night. About you, and Owen.” He looked over at Nell. “It never occurred to us to be worried about Miss Gramercy as well.”
“We’re all fine now,” said Nell, joining us at the table and handing Pa a cup of coffee. “And, please, call me Nell.”
“Pa, Ma, we have something to ask you,” I said, looking from one to the other. “Right now Dr. Cushman is seeing Sheriff Chadbourne. You’ve met Nell’s uncle, Mr. Allen. He’s been giving Nell dangerous drugs and forcing her to perform those sessions. Dr. Cushman says it’s bad for her health, and she needs to stop, but her uncle won’t let her. She wants to leave her aunt and uncle, but she has no other family.”
Ma and Pa exchanged a look. Ma was the first to speak. She reached out and touched Nell’s hand. “I hope you told this dear girl she had a home with us, right here in Wiscasset. We have an extra room in our house, and lots of room in our hearts.”
I couldn’t help grinning. That was just what I’d thought Ma would say.
Nell started crying. Not sobbing this time—happy tears.
“Thank you so much,” she said. “I’d be glad to help you with your store, Mrs. Wood. And I know how to do some cooking, but I’d like to learn more.”
“I had two boys, and I’ve loved ’em both, but I’ve always wanted a daughter, too. I know it’s probably too soon, my dear, but I wouldn’t mind if someday, you might stop calling me ‘Mrs. Wood’ and call me ‘Ma,’ as Joe does. Or ‘Ma Wood,’ if you’d like. It’d feel more friendly-like.”
Pa smiled, a little crookedly. “I can see my family’s changing by the day around here. And for the best. Welcome, Nell. You’ll be good company for my wife Catherine and for Joe while I’m away, and having a son and a daughter’s not a bad thing at all.”
“I have one question for you, though, Nell,” I said. “If you’re feeling well enough to answer it.” I just had to ask her.
“What is it, Joe?”
I swallowed hard. “You say you hear voices, and for sure, you know things no regular person should be able to know. But Charlie and I talked to that bearded man who asked the first question at the assembly you held last week. He said your uncle had paid him to say those things about his having a sweetheart.”
Ma and Pa exchanged glances. I hoped they wouldn’t be too upset with me for questioning Nell. They truly believed that everything she’d said came from her spirit voices. But before she became part of our family, I wanted to know for sure.
The kitchen was silent. Then Nell said, quietly, “I used to tell people the truth—that the spirits don’t always talk to me. But my uncle didn’t accept that. He said the spirits must speak to me when people pay for a session. When I first started having large sessions, he planned it out so it would look as though I hadn’t heard the questions asked. He said it would seem more mystical.”
“So it was a trick? But how did you do it?”
“I hated fooling people . . . but it worked. My uncle would find someone, like the bearded man you talked to, who I would meet beforehand. We would prepare his question and answer in advance. At the session, the first thing I did would be to give out that ‘answer.’ Then, as you saw, I would pick up a piece of paper with a question on it. But what was on the paper was not the question I would read out loud; instead, I would say the first person’s prepared question, while reading the written one to myself. After I read it, I’d be able to answer it—sometimes with help from my spirits, sometimes because I could just sense what the writer wanted to hear. So I always saw the question before I gave the answer.” She looked down. “I know it was wrong, but it was part of the show.”
“It worked really well,” I said. So Charlie had been right. Nell had tricked people. “So your voices aren’t real?”
Ma spoke up. “Joe, leave this poor girl alone. She told you; sometimes she hears voices, but just not all the time. I know for certain what she heard for your pa and me came right from your brother. It had to. That was no trick.” She turned to Nell. “Seems to me the problem was your uncle, not letting you answer in your own time. He forced you to pretend when the voices didn’t come to you.”
Nell nodded. “That’s how it was. Thank you for understanding.”
“When you live in this house, no one’s going to ask you questions. You’ll be who you are. If your voices want to tell you something, that’ll be between them and you. You shan’t be asked to perform.”
Nell smiled. “Thank you. You sound a lot like my mother.”
“Well, for right now, that’s who I’ll try to be. And I say that you and Joe had both better get some rest; you’ve been up the full night. Joe, show Nell where Ethan used to sleep. It’ll be her place from now on.”
I beckoned to Nell and we headed up the stairs. It had all gone even easier than I’d thought.
Now if it would just go as smoothly with Mr. Allen.