Resurrecting Harry (12 page)

Martin lowered his gaze. “If he dies in that bed, Bess, don’t come crying to me.” He turned to the dresser and picked up his jacket and gloves. “I want you out of my guest house by tomorrow, Joseph. Your fellowship is over.”

***

Bess straightened the quilt over Erich’s body, running her hands over the fabric, smoothing out the wrinkles, even though she knew that did nothing to help his illness. Joseph had changed his dressings, reapplied the ointment he made from various herbs and plants in her kitchen, and Erich hadn’t stirred a bit. In fact, he remained deathly still, just as he had for the last day. “Wouldn’t you think he’d be waking up by now?”

Joseph stepped up to her side. Crossing his arms, he studied Erich’s face. “Sleep allows the body to put its full focus on healing. It is good. He is getting well.”

“He’s not nearly as warm as he was.”

“Still, the fever has not broken. That is cause for concern.” He paused, studied Erich’s face a little more, before touching his forehead and then stroking his hand and examining his finger nails. “Some licorice root tea is in order.”

“He can’t drink unless he’s awake.”

“His body can absorb the fluid without him being awake. Just as you’ve been rubbing ice cubes to his lips to keep him hydrated, we can soak a cloth with the tea. Rubbing his lips and drizzling a few drops at a time will give his body fluid and the healing properties of the licorice root. We should freeze some too. May I have use of your kitchen?”

“Of course. But I don’t have licorice root. I wouldn’t have known what to do with it before I met you.”

“I will look through my things that Dr. Cooper had delivered. Hopefully, he had the good sense to send my supplies.” Joseph turned from the room and started down the steps.

Bess followed. “Why is it that Dr. Cooper and the others at the hospital don’t want to listen to the decades of experience you and those who taught you have? I’ve seen your treatments work.”

Joseph shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “There was a time the doctor did have faith in my people’s ways. You remember that he sought me out to treat dear Louise.”

Bess watched as Joseph rummaged through the cardboard boxes on her kitchen table. Martin had Joseph’s life at the Cooper estate packed up and delivered to her doorstep that morning. “It was tuberculosis that took Martin’s first wife, wasn’t it?”

Joseph bowed his head and closed his eyes. A moment later, when he continued his search, she could see those same eyes were glossed with tears. “A cruel illness that slowly and painfully drained the life from a once vibrant flower and generous soul.”

“I wish I had known her. To hear you and Martin talk, she was lovely.”

“She would have thought the same of you, Mrs. Houdini. In fact, in some ways, you remind me of her.” He stopped digging in the box, and a smile turned his lips. Pulling up a small jar, he showed it to Bess. “I used to make Louise licorice root tea. It gave her many more good days than she would have had with Dr. Cooper’s treatments.”

Bess reached out and brushed her hand against his shoulder. “Thank you for sharing these treatments with Erich.”

He nodded once to her but then shuffled toward her stove. Taking a sauce pan from where it hung on the rack, he filled it with water. “We are all given a calling, Ma’am, a purpose in this life that will be a catalyst for lessons to the soul. Mine is to heal, when possible.”

Bess watched as he put a few pieces of the dried root in the water and turned the flame on under the pan. “You know so much about all of these treatments. Who taught you? You’re father?”

Joseph chest heaved with a heavy sigh as he picked a wooden spoon from the drawer and gently stirred the water. “My calling was not his. When I was ten-years-old my mother left me with the healer in our tribe. I would stay with him for days and days and days, watching him caring for the weak and the ill in our tribe. I would spend weeks at a time with only him and his patients. Every now and again I would go spend a few days with my own parents, but from that moment in time that my healing gift was revealed to me, I became my mentor’s son, not my father’s.”

Bess laid a hand in the middle of his back, “I’m sorry.”

He tipped his head to her. “Why does that story make you sad? I answered my calling and am living my purpose. Had I not been trained by other healers, Dr. Cooper would not have chosen me to care for Louise. Without those events, I would not be here helping your friend. Each experience led to the other. Every one of them has left its mark on my soul and teachings in my heart.”

“But what about your family? Didn’t you miss them?”

“At times.” Joseph paused, his eyes locked on the brewing tea. He circled the wooden spoon through the water tapping the edges of the pan. “But the bonds of family are not defined by blood. In our communities – the tribe – we are all of one. Each uses the gifts we are given to serve the whole. If more communities were like that, I think there would be less suffering in the world.”

Bess reached up into the cupboard next to the stove, bringing down a glass pitcher. “You are a very wise man.”

Bess knocked on the solid oak door and let her gaze follow the scent of snapdragons and aster floating from the manicured flowerbeds off the porch. She chuckled at the image of Gail caring for the plants. Gardening wasn’t her style.

The Coopers had a gardener to tend to the landscape and a nanny to tend to the kids, emphasized by the lack of toys and bikes Bess would expect on the lawn of a house with three children. Bess surmised the kids were just another of Gail’s possessions and nothing more.

Somehow, the cold and clinical atmosphere reminded Bess of what her life had become since losing Harry. It might have been just the two of them, but they were a family, and their home — no matter what house they resided in — overflowed with a love that they had no problem displaying to the world.

A deep breath steeled Bess’s nerves. She should have called Martin two nights ago after he stormed out of the house, or at the very least phoned the next morning, but her mind wouldn’t sway from Erich and his care. Only today, when his fever broke and the danger passed, did she dare to think of anything but him.

How shameful that an argument between two grown men had escalated to such a level. How infantile that Martin had all of Joseph’s possessions dropped on her doorstep the following morning. That was men for you, though. Bruised egos caused them to act more like kids. Still, there was enough blame to go around. She’d hurt Martin’s feelings by putting her faith in Joseph, and she wasn’t above apologizing to the good doctor for that and making the first move to repair the damage to her friends’ relationship.

“Bess? What are you doing here? How did you—” Martin looked over her shoulder, searching for a car, perhaps.

“I called a cab. I wanted to talk to you, smooth things over. May I come in?”

He stepped aside, giving her access. “By all means. How is that young man doing?”

Bess hadn’t expected concern for Erich or a warm welcome, but she probably should have. Martin had always been a good friend despite his feud with Harry, and she was embarrassed that she let Joseph’s complaints over the past two days of Martin’s over inflated ego sway her perception. A pent-up breath escaped. “Much better.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Come, let’s find Gail, and I’ll have the cook make us a pot of tea.”

She held him off with a wave of her hand. “First, I owe you an apology. I was rude the other night.”

His chuckle lit up his eyes and filled the room. “No, my dear. I don’t blame you for your decision. Given all you’ve been through, I even understand it. Joseph, however, is another matter.”

“He only did as I asked. He wanted to help.”

Moving back a step, Martin shifted his weight and narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t a new fight for the two of us. If he’s going to be a student of mine, proper medical care has to come first.”

Joseph had told her the battle between native healing and modern medicine had been a long struggle between them.  He’d even expressed relief that this chapter of his life had come to an end, and he seemed excited to be returning to the reservation now that Erich’s ordeal was over. “He’s a good man. Very selfless and interested in healing others.”

“I do not argue that point. He’s been in and out my door for ten years now – comes back, asks for training only to leave when we butt heads over a patient. He should have insisted that young man be moved to a hospital. He left me no choice but to end his fellowship. This time, it’s for good.”

“But he did so much for Louise!” Bess hadn’t meant to scold. She knew Martin had fought the hospital board for the right to teach Joseph because of the care he’d given Louise, and he didn’t need Bess recapping the clash or the pain.

“I will be forever grateful for the pain management he provided, but how much do I owe in return?” Martin’s shoulders fell, reminding Bess of the connection between them. They’d both loved and lost.

“I’m sorry, Martin. I know what a difficult time that was for you.”

He forced a smile, but it was an obvious mask. Despair could be seen in his flat eyes. “Through everything, Gail has been a rock. Having our lives together interrupted by those memories is painful for her. She doesn’t deserve to live in Louise’s shadow.”

Was it really that simple to close the door to the past for a new lover? Both Martin and Gail had encouraged Bess to do the same thing: release Harry and begin to live again. Easy to say; impossible to do. “But it isn’t fair to you for Gail to dismiss your past.”

“She doesn’t do that. But, how is it right for me to live for what was? Gail deserves my total devotion. She sees him as Louise’s care giver and my loyalty to him as a commitment to someone who is gone. It’s time to dissolve the arrangement with Joseph.  I only wish that he would have taken advantage of the opportunity to take real medicine back to his people.”

Bess wondered if it was the loss of his first wife, Gail’s hurt feelings, or a disappointment in Joseph that caused the pain that edged Martin’s eyes. She suspected all three played a part.

She realized that Erich’s presence in her life had been a catalyst for Martin to lock the door to his past, and thought about what Joseph had said about how the events in his life were strung together with purpose. Was her connection to Erich more meaningful than the accident on the street that had brought them together? “I didn’t want to cause a problem. I only wanted to help Erich.”

“I know you don’t want to hear this, my dear, but if your hired hand is doing better, it’s by luck alone. Now, please, can we just let it go? Gail’s in the back garden, and I know she’s been nervous you might hold all of this against her.”

“I’d do no such thing.”

***

Erich could hear voices whispering, like the sound of way-off locust singing at dusk, only it was black night. He couldn’t move his body despite the torture. Certain words he made out: infection, abscess, danger, dying.

What a cruel twist of fate if Jaden took his life in this way, in this bed. Why give him a chance to save Bess, only to put her through the exact same pain? Even if she didn’t connect him to Harry, and didn’t adore Erich in the same way, it was obvious the similarities were affecting her. He waited for the beast to show its face and ridicule him for causing the woman he loved more pain.

Jaden didn’t come. Sleep did.

He thought a mere moment passed before his eyes fluttered open, but the sun beating through the west window told him different. Hours had passed. At least a day, maybe more. He reached for his right side only to have his hand pulled away. Joseph stepped into his line of sight. “What are you trying to do?”

Finding his throat dry, he swallowed and then tried to joke. “Just checking to see if I’m still alive.”

“It was touch and go, but you’ve turned a corner.” Dropping Erich’s hand back to the bed, Joseph lifted a china cup from the nightstand, offering it to Erich. “This is a licorice root tea. It will help with the infection.”

He looked around the room, wanting Bess to confirm what the pseudo-doctor said. “Where’s Bess?”

“She went into town to pick up some supplies and run some errands for me. She’ll be back soon. In the meantime, you should drink this.”

Erich scrunched his nose and cowered back from the bitter scent. “I thought you were trying to make me better. There’s no way I can keep that down.”

Even though Joseph couldn’t have stood more than five foot five, he locked his stance and rested a hand on his hip, spreading his shoulders and filling as much space as he could. “If you don’t keep up with the treatments, the infection will return.”

The noxious fumes clenched his stomach. Erich tried, but failed, to suppress a cough. “No way had that helped.”

“Mrs. Houdini has seen me work and has faith in the ways of my people. If she were here, she’d tell you to listen to me.”

That much was true, but it didn’t mean he trusted this stranger. Erich had allowed himself to follow Bess’s lead and consumed the brandy, only to have lost consciousness. “How long have I been asleep?”

“You’ve been in and out for two days. At times I wasn’t sure you’d pull through, but your fever broke last night, and we closed the wound this morning.”

So matter-of-fact, but it was probably easy to talk about dying if it was someone other than yourself doing it. But two days? How had he let another forty-eight hours of sand slip through Jaden’s magic hourglass? Bracing his hands against the mattress, he pushed himself into a sitting position. He swallowed the moans that gurgled from his gut. “I’ve never been the type to rest on my laurels and sleep to excess. There’s too much living to be done and time is short.”

“I suppose that’s true for those who only have one life to live, but when a single soul stacks its many lives upon each other, well that’s a different story. Isn’t it?”

Erich’s heart plummeted. No way that this guy saw through Erich’s gifted body to Harry’s soul. That second sight might be the foundation of one of Harry’s schemes, but it didn’t exist in reality. “Most learned medical types don’t believe in reincarnation or souls.”

Joseph gave a slight nod and pushed the fine china cup at Erich again. “And anyone who has felt Mother Earth’s fingers dance against their spine knows that believing only in what you can see and study under a microscope is foolhardy.”

The tea passed over his lips. Cold. If Bess brewed it before she left, then she’d been gone a while. Erich’s existence might prove Joseph’s prophecies, but the piece of him that was still Harry refused to publicly give credence to any part of spiritualism. Denying Harry, Erich could do, but he was here to get Bess to give up the séance. Agreeing with the medicine man about the notion of an everlasting soul might backfire when it came to that fight. “I don’t believe in such nonsense.”

“I find that interesting from a soul as old as yours.” Erich cocked his head in question, and Joseph continued. “A body: flesh, bones and blood aren’t what’s alive. They only encase the spirit. A body dies and the spirit takes a reprieve, comprehends the lessons learned, and then finds a new body to contain it. Yours has walked this earth for many more years than your youthful flesh would indicate.”

A shiver crawled Erich’s spine, but not from the fever this time. Joseph wasn’t the first person he’d ever encountered who believed in an afterlife or the concept of many lives. Heck, it was the foundation of the spiritualist movement and at the heart of the cons Harry and Bess had run. Harry might want to argue with Joseph but he spoke with a quiet certainty. Erich knew what the medicine man saw in him was true.

“If it can’t be seen or studied how can you know its existence with such confidence?”

“I’ve been blessed with a gift. My eyes see beyond the flesh. Your soul is quite old and very conflicted.”

Had everyone in the whole damn world started claiming they talked to the dead? Maybe Joseph was working with Martin, trying to manipulate Bess, but to what end? Erich decided to dig a little and see if he could unearth what Joseph was up to. “Let’s pretend for a minute you’re right. If spirits never die, then they’d all be really old.”

“Some eventually retire to a higher plane, when they’ve learned all this life has to offer. Others are born new. The root tea will help your body fight the infection, but only if you drink it. The scars you carry deeper, however, I’m not sure how to heal those.”

“I think I’ll be just fine.” Erich tried to sound upbeat and ignore the conflicts in his own heart and the lessons Jaden had subscribed. He forced another sip of tea.
For Bess.
She needed him here, if for no other reason than to protect her against Martin and his merry band of spiritualists. 

“Perhaps. Your body needs more time in bed. Soon, though, you can tend to your soul.”

He heard Bess’s footsteps in the hall and excitement thrummed through him. His conversation with Joseph instantly forgotten, Erich craned his vision over his shoulder, wanting nothing more than to look into her eyes.

She bustled into the room, shifting the overflowing bags in her arms, but stopped suddenly and smiled at him. “Look at you, up and awake.”