by Penn Gates
“Then open the damn door and come in.”
Lisa is struck by the scene in front of her. Nix is sitting up in the grand antique bed nursing her newborn child. The expression on her face is a study in contradictions. She looks uncertain - and awed - and scared. She glances up at Lisa and the conflicting emotions coalesce into annoyance.
“The house call really isn’t necessary,” she snaps. “Margaret knows what to do.”
Lisa sets her bag on top of the dresser. “Hmm - I heard you’ve been expecting me.” She snaps it open. “Anyway, I want to make sure that the incision hasn’t become infected.”
“You gave me antibiotics,” Nix says, pointedly ignoring Lisa’s first comment.
“But not as large a dose as I would have liked,” Lisa confesses. “We don’t have all that much of a supply left.” She smiles tentatively. “It’s like saving some bullets for an unexpected attack.”
“You’ve been hanging around with soldiers too long, doc,” Nix smirks. “Sit over there while the kid finishes his lunch, and then you can get busy.”
Lisa sits back in the old platform rocker in the corner. The room is a perfect example of early nineteenth century craftsmanship. Set into the stark white plaster at eye level is a narrow plank of cherry wood from which wooden pegs protrude.
“This house is amazing,” Lisa murmurs. “Its original design has never been disturbed.”
“If you mean generations of St Clairs were too cheap to update over the years - then yeah, I agree.” Nix looks down at her son. “Hey fella, you just soaked your mommy’s nightgown. When are you going to learn some self control?”
“I’ll change him.” Lisa holds out her arms for the baby.
“Margaret just changed him before I fed him,” Nix complains. “How many diapers can one 10-pound human go through in a day?”
“Quite a few, I’m afraid.” Lisa carries the newborn infant to a handcrafted wooden cradle and lays him in it.
As she removes his diaper, she begins her examination. His color is good - and his breathing. Even as she palpates his chest, he begins to bellow lustily.
Before she puts on a new diaper - made of cotton cloth held together with old-fashioned safety pins - she examines the drying umbilical cord, which will fall off on its own. She feels a stab of regret. This could tell her so much - especially now that another St Clair’s DNA may become available for comparison.
“Everything all right over there?” Nix asks nervously.
“He’s fit as a fiddle,” Lisa says over her shoulder, snapping the final pin closed. “By the way, have you named him yet?”
“David - his name is David.”
“Look at you,” Lisa whispers softly to the baby. “Named after a boy who stands up to giants.”
Her voice seems to calm him now that he’s not being prodded or re-wrapped, and he closes his eyes.
“Asleep - just like that,” Lisa comments as she returns to Nix’s side. “How I envy that ability to drift off instantly.”
“Trouble sleeping, doc?” Nix peers closely at her.
“It’s the constant moving,” Lisa explains. “Sometimes when I wake, I can’t remember where I am.” She sighs. “Except for this past winter - we spent it in a state park lodge. I got to sleep in a real bed - and it was heaven.”
“Actually - I know what you mean,” Nix says slowly.
“Weren’t you born and raised in this great old house?” Lisa exclaims in disbelief.
Nix looks at her, and suddenly she’s doesn’t seem as friendly. “Was I?” she asks. “How would you know?”
Lisa feels her face flame. “I beg your pardon for making an assumption.”
Nix’s expressions softens a bit. “My grandfather first saw the light of day right here.” She smacks the mattress. “I’m the only one in the last four generations who hasn’t been born in this bed.” She smiles wistfully. “Hell, I wasn’t even born in Ohio.”
Lisa wants to ask more questions, but she doesn’t. She knows she’s way too curious for her own good, and a lot of people find it offensive.
But Nix lies looking at her expectantly.
“D-do you want me to ask?” Lisa stutters.
“D-do you want to know?” Nix mimics.
Lisa just nods.
“I was born an orphan - in Arizona. That’s the only reason my name is Phoenix. Cool, huh?”
“Everyone has a mother,” Lisa blurts and is immediately sorry.
Nix’s mother is the last thing she wants to discuss. But hasn’t Nix just said her mother died in childbirth? Lisa feels like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. Cindi Lou is an imposter - in spite of her passing resemblance to Nix.
Nix glances toward her son’s cradle. “Hey - do you think babies hear every word we say in front of them, and like, it’s recorded somewhere in their memories?”
Lisa considers the question before giving her opinion. “They might - but if they don’t understand words yet, wouldn’t it just be a jumble of sounds to them?”
Nix laughs, and for the first time, Lisa thinks she might actually grow to like this woman.
And maybe Nix feels the same way because she says, “I like the way your mind works, Terrell.”
Lisa makes a quick decision. Nix has a right to know about the gypsy’s wild claims. “Listen, Nix - a very strange woman showed up in Hamlin yesterday trying to pass herself off as your mother. I think she’s just looking for whatever she can get before she moves on.”
Lisa feels a twinge of nerves as she sees Nix’s expression harden. “When I said I was born an orphan, it was a figure of speech.” Her dark eyes burn with anger in a face that Lisa now sees has lost its color. “What did this woman say her name was?”
“Cindi Lou,” Lisa mumbles, her stomach in knots. How had she missed the sarcasm? No one is born an orphan!
Nix sits upright and throws her legs over the side of the bed. She pauses and closes her eyes as if dizzy. Then she reaches a hand toward Lisa. “Help me up - just until I get used to my feet on the floor again. I need to take care of something.”
“Please stop! You can’t strain those muscles yet,” Lisa begs. “Whatever you want, I’ll get it for you.”
Nix runs her fingers frantically through her short, dark hair. “Find Cash. I need to talk to him - right now.”
CHAPTER 19: Plenty Misunderstanding To Go Around
“Where’s Hatfield?” Lisa gasps as she rounds the corner into the kitchen.
Margaret pauses in her task of ladling soup into a bowl. “What is wrong?”
“I need to find Hatfield!”
Lisa becomes aware of the several wide-eyed kids who are eating lunch around the table. Oh God - now she’s scared a bunch of children! She just keeps on making it worse and worse.
It takes an immense effort to sound reassuring as she says,“Nix needs to talk to Cash - no need to worry.”
“He’s in the dining hall eating lunch,” says one of two identical boys.
As soon as he says the words, the voices and laughter from the next room seem to increase - like someone’s turned up the volume knob on the old bakelite radio sitting uselessly on the kitchen counter. Lisa’s stomach lurches at the idea of rushing into that crowded room. Silence will fall - everyone will hear Cash’s angry words - but then she deserves to be humiliated for her stupidity.
Margaret steps in. “Peter - go fetch Cash already,” she says calmly. “And please be telling him the doktor wishes to see him - schnell!”
A little girl in braids begins to sniffle.
“Lizzie,” Margaret says, “There is no need for being afraid. You know the grown-ups will always take care of things for the best.” She snaps her fingers. “You and Mary go pick out a book.” Margaret looks pointedly at Mary. “I am certain your big sister will read a chapter or two if you ask her nicely.”
The little girl smiles a little, and nods mutely. Mary just ducks her head and disappears.
“Lizzie does not like to waste her word
s,” Margaret explains, but there is concern beneath the observation that she can’t quite hide. “And Mary, also. They were not like this before The Sickness took our parents.”
“Geezer has turned the world upside down,” Lisa says. “For children, it must have been even more terrifying - but they are resilient. As long as a child is in a safe place, the fear will eventually subside.”
Hatfield bursts into the kitchen, with Holden on his heels. “What’s goin’ on, doc?”
“Nix and the baby are fine,” she assures him quickly, “But I - may have - upset her - without meaning to.”
His eyes are as hard as sea glass. “The Cindi Lou thing?”
Lisa flushes. “Yes - but there’s no time now - she needs you.”
He jerks his head once and makes for the stairs.
“Didn’t we agree I was gonna be the one to let Hatfield know about Cindi Lou?” Holden asks, his anger threatening to boil over. “I thought you knew how to follow instructions. You went to medical school.”
Margaret glances at the corporal’s belligerent expression and claps her hands together. “Put your dishes in the sink, everyone. Then you may do as you please.”
As soon as the kids are gone, Margaret says, “Frau Doktor, I am hoping I might consult with you about a private matter before you leave.”
“Absolutely,” Lisa says. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“Don’t be long,” Holden tells her. “I gotta get back to town.”
“It will take as long as it takes,” Lisa says and follows Margaret.
“Thank you,” she tells the girl as soon as they’re out of the kitchen.
“I am thinking you need a little peace and quiet for a few minutes, Frau Doktor,” Margaret says shrewdly. “Come with me.” She takes Lisa’s hand and leads her down the long center hall. “You will like this very much.” Margaret opens a door and steps back so Lisa can enter.
“Frau Doktor!” A tall, lanky figure hurries toward them. “Please - I am wanting to know how Janet is doing.”
For as long as Lisa has known George Shirk, he’s been spotless, even if his clothes were faded and mended. Now he looks disheveled and sweaty. He takes a swipe at the smudge of dirt on his smooth cheek when he notices Lisa studying him.
George ducks his head in embarrassment. “I have been in the fields plowing,” he explains.
His grimy condition makes him seem more - human. But Lisa is sure that she still doesn’t like him. He’s not just young and clueless, as Holden seems to believe. George is a judgmental ass.
“She’s quite well,” Lisa says.
“I would like to be visiting with her soon,” George announces.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Lisa snaps. “If she wants to see you, we’ll get in touch.” Without another word she rejoins Margaret and steps through the open door.
Lisa isn’t sure what she expected to see, but it certainly isn’t the mellow wood of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that flank the fireplace. It’s clear the room was much grander in concept when it was built. Now, sadly, only some of the shelves are filled with books, and a battered roll top desk crouches in the center of the library like a squatter who snuck in when nobody was paying attention. However diminished the contents of this room, the books that remain appear to be quite old and valuable. She inhales the smell of leather as she examines the titles stamped in gold leaf.
“These are wonderful - philosophy, natural sciences - even a copy of Milton’s Paradise Lost,” she says. “Every personal library worth the name would have possessed these books, once upon a time.”
Lisa feels like a kid in a candy store. It’s not until Margaret actually says, “You are reminding me of when I was a small child, looking at all the sweets behind the counter,” that she’s jolted out of her deep dive into another time.
“You’re a mind reader, Margaret,” Lisa admits in embarrassment. “I was a million miles away.”
The Mennonite girl gropes in the pocket of her apron for a hankie and mops at her eyes. “I am sorry, Frau Doktor,” she says thickly. “I think I have made peace with the terrible losses of The Sickness, but sometimes I am talking about something in the past and it feels like it is all happening again.” She chokes on whatever else she was about to say. She waves a hand as if trying to chase away her grief. “I am sorry,” she whispers again. “It does no good to dwell on what cannot be changed.”
For the first time Lisa thinks about what a heavy burden the two eldest Shirks have carried since the first days of Geezer. While Margaret soothed her younger siblings’ terror and confusion, George shouldered the responsibility for their safety. It explains a lot about both of them. Margaret has somehow achieved a transcendent spirituality. George, on the other hand, clings to rules and traditions to guide him.
“All of us will mourn our losses for a long time to come,” Lisa says. She tactfully returns to examining the antique volumes until Margaret regains control.
When Margaret speaks again, she seems to have set aside her own pain to worry about another. “Something is troubling George,” she says, “And I have been very worried for Janet also. Can you please tell me what has happened between them - if you know of it.”
Until Margaret teared up, Lisa had considered sharing the details of Janet’s ordeal with her. Now she’s not so sure.
“Tell me,” Margaret says softly. “I am not upset by problems. I was only missing my parents.”
“A terrible thing happened to Janet before she was able to leave Lancaster,” Lisa begins, but beyond that she has no idea how to tell the rest of Janet’s story.
“Did you know my family and I were supposed to return to Lancaster with our bishop’s son after Geezer?” Margaret looks down at her folded hands. “George was telling me how no one survived that journey but Ezra. Somehow, he found his way back to the community.”
“I did meet him - briefly,” Lisa admits. “He was a seriously damaged young man. I believe he was hit by lightning.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” Margaret says. “But I did not ever care for Ezra. There was something about him that I cannot be putting into words. ”
“I felt the same way, ” Lisa answers briefly as she looks for the right words - the Goldilocks words. Not too much. Not too little. Just enough to give Margaret a general idea of what Janet endured. Oh, what the hell! There’s no way to sugar coat it.
“Actually - the first time I saw him,” Lisa says in a rush, “He had Janet tied up and thrown over his horse.”
“Mein Gott!”
“You’re brother didn’t tell you any of this?” Lisa asks in disbelief.
“No - perhaps he did not want to upset me,” Margaret says, but she doesn’t sound so sure. “Or perhaps, it maybe upset him too much. Before Geezer, my brother never had to face that there are those in the world who will use violence to get what they want.”
“It must be hard, keeping up that denial, when there’s overwhelming evidence there are more people like that in the world than ever,” Lisa says. She wants to understand why George is the way he is, but it’s hard.
“You said Janet was injured,” Margaret says, steering the conversation back to her friend. “Is she - all right now?”
Lisa decides she’s said all she can. The rest is not her secret to tell. “Janet is much better now. She just needs time to heal from - her ordeal.”
Margaret nods. “I will pray for her, Frau Doktor - and please tell her I would very much enjoy visiting with her whenever she will allow me.”
Lisa wonders how the judgmental George can share the same genes as Margaret, whose serenity seems to rub off on almost everyone who comes near her - at least temporarily. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear it.”
Margaret smoothes her apron before she rises. “Spend a few minutes with these wonderful books. It is very relaxing.” Lisa is already back in front of the shelves when Margaret says, in a surprising flash of humor, “Now I must be returning to the three rings
of my circus.”
But Lisa barely hears her. She runs her finger across the spine of a book - real leather, stamped in gold leaf. Expensive when it was new. Perhaps priceless now, depending on its subject. She moves slowly, selecting a volume now and then, breathing in the unique scent of old paper.
“So this is where you’re hidin’—” Cash Hatfield says from behind her.
Lisa starts in surprise and slowly turns to face him. “Is Nix all right?” she asks, swallowing hard.
“She’ll settle down. It was a shock is all.” He heads for a narrow bed with an iron frame. It’s an odd piece of furniture for a library, and Lisa can’t believe she hasn’t noticed it before.
He sits down, with a squeak of springs, and slides backwards until his head and shoulders rest against the wall. “Got to ease my back awhile,” he explains, stretching out his legs with a sigh. “Ridin’ that old tractor all day is murder.”
Why is he prolonging this confrontation? she wonders. Now there’s two strikes against me - and this guy won’t wait for a third.
“I didn’t mean to upset Nix, Mr. Hatfield,” Lisa says. “I could swear she said her mother died in childbirth and—”
“She gave you the I-was-born-an-orphan speech, didn’t she?” He doesn’t look threatening at all now. Just concerned. “My wife is the strongest person I’ve ever known. And also the most fragile.”
“I’m not sure I understand.” Lisa flushes. “Sorry - that was a stupid thing to say. Cindi Lou had to be a horror as a mother.”
“She was,” Hatfield says.“Cindi ran away from her daddy’s farm to follow rock bands back in the good ol’ days.”
Lisa pictures the aging gypsy queen holding court in an abandoned elementary school cafeteria. “I think the word you’re looking for is groupie - and she still has the look.”
Cash shrugs. “It’s a good bet Nix’s biological father was a musician - even though Nix can’t carry a tune in a basket.”
Just a few days ago this man was furious with her. Now he’s acting like the two of them are old friends. The most likely explanation is that he’s probing for information. After all, she’s just proved she doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.