Streams of Mercy (27 page)

He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. “The man has no sense whatever. Thomas told me Stetler had made comments about needing to get the train going again.”

“How can he? He doesn’t have people for his acts. Too many of them are sick. He lost his elephant trainer, and his lion tamer is too weak to perform. Even his engineer was sick, although he’s recovering nicely. And if he moves on, he spreads diphtheria
to the next stop. I can’t believe he had the gall—or maybe the stupidity—to break quarantine and get off the train.” She sucked in a breath of her own.

John grimaced. “I’ll make those telephone calls and we’ll talk more. Oh, and I reminded Thorliff to make sure the residents of the apartment house are inoculated too. Some of them don’t read English well enough to understand the danger.”

She nodded. “Some of them do, though. They’ve been wonderful about helping if they had it before. Dr. Deming has quite a crew out there, and others are helping Mrs. Geddick in the kitchen. That’s why Tonio has been helping in here. You emphasized to Thorliff that children came first, then the old people, and finally the others?”

John smiled. “I did, and you know Miriam will handle that well.”

At least Miriam gets to see her family up close
. Sometimes the need for time in her husband’s arms walloped her.

Hours later, after supper and evening rounds, Astrid hid out in her office, wishing she could blot out the sounds of sickness and not just the sight. She forced herself to concentrate on a minimum of paper work, drank more coffee, and rubbed her eyes. Just for a minute, she promised herself as she swung her tired and aching feet up onto the corner of the desk and leaned back in her chair, head propped and burning eyes closed. For just a few minutes.

She jerked awake at a knock on the door. “Yes?”

“Are you all right?” Reverend Solberg.

“I am. Come on in.”

“They have run out of antitoxin, but the most vulnerable are taken care of. The others will get theirs when the next shipment arrives, and then we’ll move out to the nearby farms.”

“Did someone think to tell my mother to get the shot?”

“Yes, Thorliff did, because she is one of the older ones.” John looked just as weary as Astrid felt.

She heaved a sigh of relief that stretched into a yawn. “Pardon me, I—”

“You do not need to apologize for catching some sleep. I have something rather funny to tell you—well, not funny, but amusing.”

“I need a smile.”

“As do we all. Thomas heard Stetler storming on about not getting a meal at the boardinghouse, breaking quarantine, and it made him furious. So he and Mr. Sidorov grabbed Stetler, hustled him into his own quarters, locked him in, and kept the key. Those on the train who were well enough to do so applauded.”

Astrid rolled her lips together to keep from laughing out loud, but the giggle snuck out anyway.

“When he yelled more, Thomas said if he didn’t keep quiet, he’d call the sheriff up in Grafton and have him thrown in jail for breaking quarantine and for endangering his performers by not getting medical help at the first sign of something so contagious.”

Astrid gave up and laughed. “Good for Thomas Devlin. Bless that man.”

John continued, “And something you may wish to tell the circus people—indeed, everyone on the train. It might bring them comfort. We have set aside a block of plots in the cemetery just for the dead from the circus. The survivors may want to stop by Blessing someday to pay their respects to those lost, and the graves will all be in one place. They won’t have to wander about seeking graves among strangers. We’ll carve wooden markers until we can bring in some stone for permanent markers. And Thomas was suggesting putting a red and yellow fence around it. It sounds rather gaudy to me, but he says the maintenance crew wants to give him plenty of red and yellow paint.”

“I think red and yellow is totally appropriate. Gaudy, yes, but visitors will certainly find their cemetery section easily.”

John chuckled; then his face sobered. “Some of the men from the circus, assisted by Thomas, are burying the bodies that came in on the train and those who have died here. And yes, they are being careful not to contaminate anyone. Some of our people will dig more graves.” His voice nearly broke. “They are having a hard time digging the small ones.”

Astrid closed her eyes again, this time to squelch the tears. They shouldn’t have to bury children. Innocents! When would this nightmare end?

Dear God, how can you let this keep on happening?

C
HAPTER 21

H
ow long, O Lord, how long before we see any improvement?”

Miriam stared at her. “But, Dr. Astrid, we
have
been seeing improvement. For the last two days, we’ve had no deaths. And I think we’re seeing a turnaround on at least two of our children here. Their throats aren’t any more swollen and that awful membrane is no worse either. Out in the tent, people are still very ill but no worse. Those who have had lighter cases are eating and sleeping. Your mother’s cough syrup is really bringing relief.”

Astrid sighed. “I’m sorry for complaining.” She cocked her head. Was that a new cough she heard, this one from the staff sleeping area? “Come with me.” As they stood, she asked, “Who is sleeping right now?”

“Dr. Elizabeth, Sandy, I think Mercy . . . and Deborah.” She glanced down the ward as they strode to the other ward. They stopped at the curtain and studied those sleeping. Nothing seemed amiss.

“No one has mentioned a sore throat?”

“Not to me.”

“Someone coughed from here. I was sure of it. I’ll check on them when they wake up. We are on day five, or is it six, since this all started?” She closed her eyes to think more clearly. “I am praying we are beyond the danger point with our people being exposed to the disease. I have to keep reminding myself that not everyone gets it so I don’t go around questioning everyone and asking to see their throats.”

Together they turned to go back to the main area.

The cough came again. Astrid whirled around. Elizabeth was shifting on her bed. From coughing? Had she looked any more pale than usual? If only she had not been the doctor on call that night. Elizabeth should never have gone on the train. Not with her health history. She needed sleep so desperately, would waking her make any difference in the long run? Would the antitoxin have had enough time to fight back if the disease was already started?

“I must go back out to the tent,” Miriam said. “Dr. Commons is out there alone. Do you need me for anything more here?”

“No more than usual. It’s time to shift patients into the steam room. Did you notice the steam condensing on the walls and running down? I’ve had Tonio mop that floor several times. I remember Mor holding babies and children over a steaming kettle when they had croup or congestion of any kind. She’d put a towel over her head so they had a tent. One of her folk remedy practices.” Astrid rolled her eyes. “Here I am detaining you. Sorry.”

“I should be back fairly soon. I have the healthier people out there spooning broth and liquids into other patients. That’s a big help, even though they can’t stay at it very long. I think we should let that baby’s mother come take care of her now. May I tell her that? Or at least let her visit her baby?”

“Ja, that would be good.” Astrid went to check the man with
the tracheostomy in room one. He too was no worse. He was finally able to eat soft foods and respond to commands. Perhaps the swelling in his neck was going down. Stopping beside his bed, she checked his pulse, the motion making his eyes flutter open. A small part of a smile lit his face. She smiled and nodded.

Taking a tongue depressor from her pocket, she said softly so as not to wake the others in the room, “I would like to check your throat. Can you open your mouth, please?”

With a slight nod, he did as she asked. Even in the poor light, she could see the membrane was receding. She felt his neck and the swollen glands along his jawline. “You are doing well. If I help you, would you like to sit up for a while?” Threading her arm behind his shoulders, she lifted him and pushed another pillow in place. “How’s that?”

He nodded again and pointed to the encumbrance in his neck, the air he inhaled whistling in the tube.

“We’ll take it out as soon as the swelling in your throat decreases sufficiently. You need to eat as much as you are able, and perhaps tonight or tomorrow, you can sit up and dangle your feet over the edge. You have been so ill that it will take your body time to rebuild strength.”

He mouthed “Thank you” and pointed to the others in the room—his wife, who had not had as severe a case, and one of his children.

“They are on the mend also. I’ll have someone bring you some soup.”

Sorry I doubted, Lord
, she thought as she left the room. She had awakened with a feeling of despair, but thanks to God, that was gone, at least for now. At the nurses’ station, she left orders to feed the man and continued checking the other patients. One child was still unresponsive, two others barely so. They could still lose any or all of them. She picked up Ada, the unresponsive girl
who appeared to be two or three, and carried her to the steam room, where she put a towel over her head and held the little one so her face was down toward the kettle to inhale the most steam. “Please, Lord God, restore health to this child. Clear the horrible—” The child convulsed once, then again, then lay flaccid in her arms.

“No, Father, do not let her die! Bring her back.” She sat down in a chair and, laying the girl across her lap, compressed the girl’s chest. She shuddered, wretched, and a glob of mucus flew out of her mouth and onto Astrid’s apron. Another followed. Astrid wiped the girl’s mouth with a square of muslin and tented them over the steam kettle again. The child was breathing far more easily.

Abigail and Mercy came in to carry another patient back to bed. “She sounds better.”

Astrid described what happened. “I’ll take her back to bed now.”

“Why not leave her here? I’ll sit with her.” Abigail reached for the child. The young nurse had an affinity for small children, that was for sure.

“Then I’ll help you, Mercy.” Together they carried an older woman back to a fresh bed and settled her.

Mercy smiled. “Thank you. I need to give her some cough syrup and broth. She is taking both better now.”

“How are you holding up?”

Mercy shrugged. “Tired, but I’m scheduled to sleep in about half an hour.”

“Good.”

Miriam returned from the tent and smiled at Astrid. “I set all the people still living on the train to scrubbing the cars inside and out—all the bedding, all the clothing. Manny takes the elephants down to the river now to eat the willow trees. He sure
is in love with those elephants. Especially the baby, Fluff. Can you imagine that? Four hundred pounds of . . . fluff!”

Astrid laughed in spite of herself. Maybe people were getting better and that was buoying her spirits. And Fluff. The baby elephant too. “Little Ada coughed up a huge plug and Abigail is still holding her over the steam. What a difference it made in her breathing. She convulsed, and I thought she died right in my arms. I am so grateful Mor taught me about steam treatments.”

“We are doing unconventional treatments here, you realize that?”

“I know, but they seem to be working. As Mor says, it’s all in God’s hands.”

Miriam nodded. “We need to document this for Chicago. They are keeping records of all we send them, and they are using our experiences in their teaching to both their nursing students and physicians.” She paused. “Although Dr. Commons seems to have a problem with much of it.”

“I know. If he can’t read it in a medical book, he is convinced it has no value.” She didn’t add “
like so many other doctors
,” some of whom still used blood-letting as a treatment, closed windows, heat for burns, and other outrageous practices.

With an overwhelming need to talk to her mother, Astrid glanced around the area to make sure all was being done that could be and went to the oak box on the wall. “Please ring my mother.” One of the immigrant wives who could speak fair English after her classes with Amelia Jeffers was working the switchboard.

“Right away.” A bit of silence and she said, “Go ahead.”

“Oh, Freda, could I please talk to Mor?”

“Ja, I will get her. Are you all right?”

“As well as we can be, but no new emergencies. I just need to hear her voice.” She heard the earpiece bump against the
wall as it dangled. Closing her eyes, she could see the kitchen, knowing there were pots on the stove, baking bread filling the house with fragrance, and . . .

“Astrid, oh how I have wanted to talk with you.”

“And I you. Did your arm get sore after the inoculation?”

“Some, but nothing to be concerned about.”

“Just tell me what is going on there. It seems like I’ve been here for weeks, not just days.”

“Freda has started another batch of cheese today. We will send soft cheese to the hospital in the next couple of days. That should go down easy and build people up. She has gingerbread in the oven. I am making more cough syrup now that I have more honey. The Baards sent me some as soon as they heard we needed it. I ordered glycerin for the lotion, and it should be here soon. Hmm, what else? Oh, we miss Manny so. There is a big hole in our family.”

“How is Clara?”

“She is getting bigger, pushing out her dresses. But also we are getting some meat on her bones. We hope and pray that she came to us early enough that she will have a healthy baby. You can feel kicking feet. She smiles and lays a hand on her big ball, as she calls it, when the baby is active. It’s been so long since I was this close to a pregnant mother, I’d forgotten many of the joys. Well, the hard parts too.”

“Oh, Mor, it is so good to hear your voice. This hospital is just not the same without you sitting here praying and singing. If you can think of anything else we can try to make the poor people more comfortable . . .” She went on to describe some of the patients.

“I wish I could be there. Reverend Solberg even canceled church just to be safe.”