Riverbreeze: Part 2 (43 page)

“Maureen!” Phillip spoke sharply to his wife. “Get the syrup of poppy. Quick!”

Maureen pulled herself together and went to the sideboard where a small wooden box was kept locked. She pulled the key out of her pocket, but her hands were still shaking so much it took her several tries before she could fit the key in the lock and unlock the box. Phillip went back to Robert and assessed the situation. He cupped the back of Robin’s head, cooing to the lad, but looked into Robert’s eyes. He called his name.

Robert finally registered the fact that Phillip was really in front of him. “Phillip? What are you doing here?” He asked stupidly.

Phillip grasped Robert’s shoulder and shook him hard. “Robert! Robin’s lips are turning blue. Ease up on him.”

“What?” For some strange reason, his brain didn’t seem to be working and he couldn’t make himself move. He knew he should be doing something to take care of his son, but right now he couldn’t think of what to do.

“I said, Robin’s lips are turning blue. Loosen your hold on him before you crush him.”

“His feet; his legs; he was on fire.” Robert said as if he still couldn’t believe it, but he did obey Phillip’s words. He relaxed his arms a little, easing the tension in his muscles.

Maureen appeared with the little bottle of concentrated poppy syrup. “’Twas all my fault.” She bemoaned. “I should have been watching him more closely.”

Phillip ignored her and grabbed the bottle. He pulled the cork out, put his finger over the top and upended it. Turning it right side up again, he pulled his finger away and with one drop of the thick, concentrated liquid clinging to his fingertip, he stuck it in Robin’s mouth, rubbing it quickly inside his cheek. Robin tried to twist away at the invasion of the finger and the awful taste, but Phillip managed to get two more drops into the boy’s mouth.

Robin began to droop in Robert’s arms.

Mary returned then with the blanket and sheet balled up in her arms. She crept in cautiously, afraid to get too close to Robin.

Phillip went to meet her, smiling encouragingly at her. “Good girl. Thank you.” He said, taking the linens from her. “Now go back to your room and keep your brothers and sister company.”

“Yes, papa.” She said in a small voice and hastened out of the room.

Phillip dropped the linens on the bench by the table, then singled out the blanket and started to stretch it out over the kitchen table. Briskly, Maureen pitched in to help.

When they finished, Phillip went back to Robin and Robert. “Let me take him, Rob.” He said, reaching for the boy. “We need to treat these burns.”

“I was so scared.” Robert whispered, relinquishing his hold on Robin.

“I know you were.” Phillip said, taking Robin and gently laying his limp body down on the table. The boy didn’t even move when Phillip started to tear the soaking wet smock away from his legs. Maureen took the linen sheet and started to dry Robin’s hair and face.

Robert stood up slowly and nearly fell when he put weight on his right foot. He hadn’t realized how much he had bruised his foot kicking in the door. But he caught himself and slowly stood on the foot, testing the severity of the injury. Actually the pain wasn’t too bad once he got used to it. His stretched his back and shoulders, shaking his head at himself, confused at his behavior. He had acted quickly enough when he had seen the flames, but afterwards…He was ashamed of himself; he shouldn’t have frozen like that.

And look at Phillip
! Robert thought.
What a surprise! Staying calm and taking control. It should have been me.

Water dripped from his clothes and from the ends of his hair, and his moccasins squished through the puddle as he approached the table. Now that the immediate emergency was over, feeling came back into his hands and he looked at his burned palms. They hurt, but the burns weren’t that bad. The cold water had taken some of the sting away.

He couldn’t imagine what his son had felt. The pain must have been excruciating. How fortunate that Phillip and Maureen had the syrup of poppy on hand. He didn’t have any at his house and never had; if it wasn’t used carefully it could be deadly, but he decided that from now on he would keep some available for such emergencies as this.

Maureen had finished toweling Robin’s hair and drying his face and upper body. “He’s tolerating the syrup quite well.” She commented.

Phillip nodded, taking the sheet from Maureen and starting to tear it into strips. “He is, but watch his breathing anyway.”

Robert started, alarmed by that statement. Worry creased his brow as he watched his son’s chest rise and fall. With infinite tenderness, he reached out to caress Robin’s head, brushing his hair from his flushed face. Robin’s eyes were droopy and his mouth was slack, but he was not fully asleep. The opiate had only partially sedated him and he looked up at Robert, but Robert didn’t believe Robin was really seeing him.

Finally Robert had to ask the question. He had to know how it happened.

“What happened, Maureen?” He asked in a flat voice as he watched Phillip continue to tear the sheet into numerous strips. There was no accusation in his tone.

“The boys were playing with the rag ball.” She said in a soft voice. She twisted her hands in her apron. “Baby Thomas was throwing the ball and Robin was fetching it and bringing it back to him. I warned Robin not to get too close to the fireplace, and he was being very good, but the last time…” She ended with a sob.

Robert only nodded, knowing these things happened all the time. Now that he thought back to when he had first seen Robin in the fireplace he remembered seeing out of the corner of his eye the rag ball burning.

He looked at Robin’s feet and legs and felt such sadness. Robin would be scarred for life; he would never have perfect, baby soft skin ever again. Now the skin on the top of his feet was red and blistered, but there were also a few small patches of white ashy skin where the hem of the smock had burned and dropped on his feet. Some of the skin was sloughing off the sides of his feet and Robert wondered if he would still be able to walk when he healed. His shins were also bright red and severely blistered, his knees and thighs not so bad, merely red and swollen. Thankfully the fire hadn’t reached his groin or above.

“He’s lucky.” Phillip commented, gently examining one of Robin’s feet. He removed some of the peeling skin. Robin never moved but Maureen took in a hissing breath.

“Lucky!” Robert looked at Phillip as if he were crazy. Robert didn’t think Robin was lucky to have caught on fire.

“It could have been worse…”
Well, yes, it could have been worse
, Robert thought. “I’ve seen worse.” Phillip said quietly, switching feet. He was uncharacteristically gentle as he removed more of the peeling skin, and Robert wondered who Phillip had known who had gotten burned.

Phillip went on in that same soft voice, “When I was six years old, my younger brother fell into the fireplace…” Robert took in a quick breath, but Phillip continued without noticing. “…he was running around, laughing and playing, and then he tripped…” He shook his head. “…over his own two feet and fell face first into the fire. Our mother was out working; the lady who stayed with us was supposed to be watching us but I think she fell asleep. I ran to wake her, but by the time she got up, he was burned badly. He died that night.”

Robert glanced at Maureen, who was standing very still, but she had already heard this story of his brother and she was somber, but calm. “I’m sorry, Phillip. I didn’t know.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “It was a long time ago.” He said in a flat voice. “Get the honey, Maureen.”

“Honey?” Robert questioned, watching Maureen go to the side board and retrieve a yellow glazed pottery jug. “Why do you need honey?”

“I’m going to put it on the burns.” He held out his hand for the jug when Maureen returned with it.

“You’re going to put honey on the burns?” Robert looked at Phillip again as if he were mad. “I’ve never heard of such a treatment.”

Phillip calmly started to drizzle the honey over Robin’s legs. “My master showed me how to do this when I was a servant. I had a mate named Billy Burcher; he was snatched the same time as I was and put on the same ship…”

Billy Burcher
? Robert thought.
I’ve never heard of him before
.

“…We were sold to the same man, Roland Larkey, he’s dead now; but one day after we had been with him for maybe six years, we were clearing more land and burning the brush, sticks and leaves. I was at the edge of the woods, chopping down brush so I wasn’t with Billy when he stupidly added a huge pile of leaves to the fire. Smoke poured out and he got in the way and was overcome. He fell into the coals and burned one whole side of his face and neck and his hands.” He shook his head again while carefully smearing the honey over the burns. “I took him to the house somehow; he was nearly unconscious, and Lackey and his wife were going to put lard on the burns, but they didn’t have any at the time. They thought about what they could do, and Larkey remembered hearing some folktale about putting honey on burns. So they did. It was a mess, but it helped to heal him along with compresses of comfrey root and chamomile. Poor bugger though…” Phillip shook his head again, chuckling a little to himself. “He survived, but he looks like shit.”

Robert was shocked that Phillip could laugh at such an awful accident. He glanced at Maureen, but she was also smiling, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

Robert shrugged his shoulders. “Where is he now? I’ve never heard of him.” Robert said.

“He lives in the woods somewhere, by himself.” Phillip said sadly. “He’s become a recluse. He hates to be seen by anyone. I go and visit him occasionally, but otherwise he keeps to himself.”

Robin’s legs were now covered in the sticky golden liquid. Phillip gathered the strips of linen and started wrapping the boys’ feet and legs. Robin never cried out or reacted at all. He remained perfectly oblivious to what was happening to him.

Robert was amazed at Phillip’s medical skill. But with four children, he guessed that Phillip had quite a lot of practice tending to wounds and such, and they had several books on medicines and physical surgery. “Thank you, Phillip.” Robert said, watching his brother-in-law efficiently tend to his son’s legs. “I’m beholden to you.”

“I’m glad I could help.” Phillip said, securing the final makeshift bandage. “I’m sorry this happened, but I’m glad that I could help.” He repeated. They were all silent for a moment, while Maureen started to wrap the blanket around Robin.

“I’ll do that, Maureen.” Robert said.

Maureen stepped back quickly as if she were insulted. Robert didn’t care; he wanted to tend to his own son.

“Wait, Rob.” Phillip said. “What about you?” He ran his eyes over Robert. “Were you burned at all?”

Robert glanced at his hands, but quickly tried to hide them at his sides. “No.” He said firmly, but he couldn’t fool Phillip.

Phillip grabbed his wrist and tried to look at Robert’s hand, but Robert pulled it away. “’Tis nothing.” Robert said.

Phillip shrugged his shoulders. “As you wish. What about breakfast? Will you stay a while?”

“I would rather not. I do want to get Robin home.” Robert said slowly, reaching for Robin. He finished wrapping the boy in the blanket, then picked him up and leaned against the table, cradling him in his arms.

Maureen had been very quiet, chewing the inside of her lip, but suddenly she spoke up. “Why did you come today, Robert? We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow or the next day. How did you manage to arrive at just the right moment to save Robin?”

He stiffened, taken off guard by her questions. “Uh…” He hesitated, trying to think fast. Finally he said, “Elizabeth had a dream about Robin and she wanted me to bring him back home. She misses him.”

“Really?” Maureen said, sounding surprised. “I know she loves Robin, but I would have thought that she would have wanted as much time alone with you as possible.”

“Well…” Robert shifted his weight a little. “She does, but she had this dream…” He paused, wondering how much more he should say. Surely telling Maureen and Phillip about the dreams wouldn’t put Elizabeth in any danger, would it?

“What was the dream about?” Maureen asked automatically.

But Phillip spoke before Robert could respond, for which he was extremely grateful.

“Why are you so concerned, Maureen?” Phillip said. “It is a coincidence that he came this morning, but I wouldn’t dwell on it. Stay for breakfast, Rob. Allow Robin to recuperate some before you take him out in the cold.”

“I really do want to get Robin home. And Elizabeth will be worried sick. She’s probably pacing a rut in the floor right now.”

“Why would Elizabeth be that worried?” Maureen asked, peering at Robert.

Again Phillip interrupted. “Maureen, stop nagging Robert! He came because Elizabeth misses Robin. It was just a coincidence that he got here when he did. Now, I’m going to clean out this fireplace, get another fire going and you’re going to make us breakfast. Is that clear?” Phillip ended, crossing his arms over his chest and looking sternly at his wife.

“Yes, Phillip.” She murmured, her eyes downcast.

At any other time, Robert would have disapproved of the way Phillip ordered his wife around, but this time, he was glad of it. He didn’t want to explain why he had come here this morning. He didn’t want to say any more about Elizabeth’s dream. He really just wanted to bring Robin home, but Phillip was right. He should wait an hour or two before taking Robin out in the cold. By then it would be warmer and Robin would be able to tolerate the trip better.