THE HOMEPLACE

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Ford can afford to make a mistake. You can’t, Zeno. This get-rich-quick mentality is going to ruin the country.”

  “You’re right about that, Doctor,” Sister Myrtle boomed. “It’s the root of all evil, money is.”

  “Well, I wish I had more of the root.” Zeno shook his head sadly.

  The door opened, and Sheriff Pardue Jessup came in followed by Ed Hathcock, the chief of police. When Sister Myrtle asked for their order, Pardue winked at Ed and said, “I think I’ll have some pig lips.”

  “We ain’t got no pig lips! You know that, Sheriff. Now quit your foolishness.”

  “All right. I’ll have the special.”

  “What’s the special today, Sister Myrtle?” Ed asked.

  “Meat loaf, green beans, and cornbread, same as it is every Tuesday.”

  “Guess I’ll have a cheeseburger with fries,” Ed said.

  Mamie stopped eating long enough to say, “Who’s catching criminals with both of our lawmen eating lunch?”

  Pardue leaned back and winked at Mamie. He liked the beautician a great deal and was not particular about the rumors about her moral character. “I put a sign up: NO CRIME ALLOWED UNTIL AFTER LUNCH.”

  Mamie laughed and said loudly enough for every customer to hear, “How’s your social life, Pardue?”

  “Come to a dead stop. How about me and you goin’ over to the dance at Cedar Grove Saturday night?”

  “Sure thing.” Mamie smiled. “I’ll wear that green dress you like so much.”

  Ed Hathcock stared at Pardue Jessup. “I thought you was sparkin’ Cassandra Pruitt.”

  “No, I’m too rough around the edges. She’s too fine for me.”

  “She’s a woman, ain’t she?” Mamie jeered. “All that book learning don’t change that.”

  “That’s right, Sheriff,” Zeno Bruten said and grinned. “The colonel’s lady and Judy O’Brady are sisters under the skin.”

  “Who in the cat hair are them two?” Ed Hathcock asked.

  “Oh, that’s from a poem by a fellow named Kipling. Pretty much says that all women are the same.”

  “I might read some of that poetry,” Mamie said and grinned.

  The food finally came for Pardue and Ed, and it was Hathcock who brought the subject of the Freeman youngsters up. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen to those poor kids, their daddy in Cummings. Who’s gonna take care of ’em?”

  Sister Myrtle was taking a pot of coffee around refilling cups. “The good Lord’s gonna take care of ’em. That’s who.”

  “I reckon He’ll have to.” Pardue shook his head. “They can’t take care of themselves. How are they gonna pay their bills?”

  The talk went around the cafe while Doc Givens finished his meal. “This place is a regular gossip parlor,” he said. “Everybody knows everybody else’s business.” He walked over to the counter and fished his billfold out and laid a dollar down. Sister Myrtle took it and said, “I want you to come to church Sunday, Doctor.”

  Givens stared at the woman with exasperation. “You’ve been askin’ me that for fifteen years, Myrtle. When are you going to give up on an old sinner?”

  “Never!” Myrtle said.

  The doctor snorted, turned, and walked out. As soon as he left, Pardue said, allowing admiration to shade his voice, “I purely admire a firm woman, Sister Myrtle. One of these days I’m gonna come to your church and hit the glory trail.”

  “Well, I declare you need it, Pardue Jessup, and let me tell you—” The sound of squealing tires and a loud yell cut her off. Myrtle went to the window and looked out. “It’s Doc Givens, he’s been hit by a car!”

  The whole crowd rushed out, and others were gathering. Dr. Givens was lying in the street, and the car that had hit him sped away. Ed Hathcock yelled, “I’ll get him! You know that car, Pardue?”

  “No, it must be a stranger.”

  Pardue knelt down and said, “Doc, are you hurt bad?”

  Givens murmured, “My leg—”

  Gerald Pink, the pharmacist, came across the street from his drugstore. He knelt down and studied the leg without touching it. “That’s a bad compound fracture. We’re gonna have to take you to Fort Smith, Doc. I’ll go get somethin’ to help with the pain.”

  As Pink left, Pardue called out, “Call the hospital in Forth Smith!

  Tell them I’m bringin’ Doc Givens in.”

  “Why, you can’t take him in a car with that leg,” Zeno Bruten said.

  “Nope, I’ll have to borrow your hearse, Zeno.”

  “That’ll be okay, Pardue. There’s no funerals today.”

  Ten minutes later Pardue and two other men carefully loaded Dr. Givens in the back of the black hearse. It was a painful thing, and the doctor moaned. Pardue heard him say, “I never thought I’d be alive when I rode in this blasted thing!”

  “You take it easy, Doc,” Pardue said. “You’re gonna be all right.”

  “I’ll have to call Memphis and get another doctor down here.”

  “You can call when they get you all put together,” Pardue said. “Now, you folks clear the way.” He got up, closed the door on the hearse, and started the engine. As he drove off, Orrin Pierce, who had arrived late, said, “Well, we got no police protection and no medical help.”

  Sister Myrtle stared at him, then said loudly, “Well, we got God, ain’t we?”

  C H A P T E R 14

  A harsh-looking woman with gray hair and dark eyes opened the door and frowned. “What is it?” she demanded. “We ain’t buyin’ nothing.”

  “I’m Dr. Owen Merritt. I’ve come to see Dr. Givens.”

  The woman wore an apron over her sixty-something frame and wiped her hands on it now. “Oh, well, I reckon it’s all right for you to come in! Come on back to the bedroom. I’m Matilda Satterfield, Dr. Givens’ housekeeper.”

  “How’s he doing, Mrs. Satterfield?”

  “He’s about the worst patient I ever saw! He’d kill any patient of his that acts like he does. My lands, you think a man his age would have enough sense to look before crossing the street!”

  Merritt followed the tall woman down the hall into a bedroom. “Dr. Givens, this here is your new assistant.”

  Merritt walked up to the bed and said, “Hello, Dr. Givens.”

  “Well, you took your time gettin’ here.”

  Merritt grinned suddenly. “Couldn’t go any faster than the train, I’m afraid. How’s that leg?”

  “It hurts like the devil!” Doc Givens had a tray on his lap. “I’m havin’ lunch. Matilda, bring the doctor some fried chicken and butter beans.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that, Dr. Givens.”

  Givens waved his protest aside and pointed to a chair by the bed. “Do what I tell you, Matilda. Now set down there and tell me about yourself.”

  Sitting, Owen Merritt began to speak of his background. He had grown up in Memphis, Tennessee, and finished medical school at Baptist Hospital, where he was fulfilling his residency.

  “Not much experience,” Givens grumbled, nibbling at a chicken leg. “About what I figured. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  “How’d you get out of medical school so quick?”

  “I graduated from high school a couple of years early.” Merritt shrugged. He picked up the drumstick from the plate that Matilda had brought and tasted it. “This is good chicken.”

  Givens grunted. “So you’re a city man?”

  “Yes, sir, all in Memphis.”

  “Well, what works in a big city won’t work in a small town.”

  “I expect I’ll have a lot to learn, Doctor.”

  Givens brushed the crumbs from the front of his robe and stared at the younger man. “I’m not one for the new-fangled, fly-by-night medicine, but I’ll give you a try. If it don’t work out, you’ll have to go. You got a car?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, you can use mine—and you be careful of it, you hear?”

  “That’s
kind of you. I’ll have to find a place to stay—”

  “You’ll stay right here,” Givens said. “Plenty of room in this big old house up on the second floor. Have your own bath up there. I can’t get up there with this leg. Matilda’s a good cook—better than anyone else in this town.”

  Owen Merritt instinctively resisted this order. The old man was crusty enough, and to be stuck with him constantly was not to his liking. But Givens had his mind made up.

  “That will be very handy, Dr. Givens.”

  Givens scowled. “I won’t be able to come to the office for quite a while, but I’ll sit by the telephone. You can call me when you run into somethin’ you don’t know how to handle.”

  “That would be very convenient.”

  “You’ll take your meals here at night. After dinner we can go over the cases.”

  It sounded like some form of slavery to Owen Merritt, but he was grateful for the opportunity. The offer had come at a good time, and he knew that Givens was right. Practice in a small town was different from a large hospital in a big city.

  “Matilda, show the doctor his room—and be sure his sheets are changed.”

  Matilda sniffed. “You think I don’t know how to keep a house!” She went out huffing. Merritt followed her, grinning.

  The afternoon was busy enough. Word of Merritt’s arrival spread quickly, and he suspected that many who dropped by the office came just to look the new doctor over.

  Dr. Givens’ nurse, Bertha Pickens, had her own ways. She handled the office as if she were the doctor, and before admitting any patient, she would give Owen a complete medical history, including the patient’s ancestry back to the great-great-grandparents. Nurse Pickens was a short, stocky woman. A Pentecostal, she let him know instantly. “I’m Pentecost at any cost,” is the way she put it.

  By five o’clock Owen Merritt felt that the traffic had slowed down, and Nurse Pickens stepped inside and shut the door behind her. “The oldest Freeman girl’s outside.”

  “Who’s she?”

  “Her name is Lanie Freeman. Her dad just got sent to Cummings Prison Farm for shooting a man.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She won’t say,” Nurse Pickens snipped. “You don’t have to see her.

  I’m sure she doesn’t have any money.”

  “Oh, I think I’d better. Have her come in, Nurse.”

  Owen got to his feet. When the young woman, or girl, came into the office, he saw that she was frightened. “Well, hello there.” He smiled. “My name is Dr. Merritt. And what’s yours?”

  “I’m Lanie Freeman.”

  “Well, would you care to sit down here and tell me your problem, Miss Lanie?” He tried to estimate her age, but found it rather difficult. He put her at fifteen or perhaps a year older. Her best features were her eyes, deep-set, widely spaced and beautifully shaped. “Are you having some kind of sickness?”

  “No, sir, it’s not me. It’s a friend of mine. She’s cut herself, and she won’t come to the doctor. I’m afraid for her.”

  “Why won’t she come to a doctor?”

  “She . . . she won’t have much to do with anybody in town.”

  “Well, if she won’t come to the doctor, the doctor will have to go to her. What’s her name?”

  “Everybody calls her Butcher Knife Annie.”

  “That’s an odd name. Why do they call her that?”

  “I don’t know, Doctor, but she needs you awful bad.”

  “All right. Let me get my bag, and we’ll take a look.”

  As the two passed through the outer office, Owen said, “I’ll see you in the morning, Nurse.”

  “Where are you going, Doctor?”

  “Have a house call to make. Thanks for all of your excellent help.”

  Owen opened the door of Dr. Givens’ big Oldsmobile and saw Lanie look at him with surprise. “Thank you,” she murmured as she got in. Merritt shut the door, walked around, tossed his bag in, then cranked the engine up. “One of these days they’re going to put a starter in a car so you won’t have to crank the fool thing.” He climbed in. “Now, which way?”

  “Right down this street and then turn left.”

  As Owen Merritt drove down the street, he took in the town, which seemed nice enough. But he was mostly interested in Lanie Freeman. He thought it best not to ask about her father, but he did say, “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

  “Two sisters and two brothers.”

  “Older than you?”

  “No, sir, I’m the oldest.”

  Something about the girl’s tone warned Owen Merritt that this was no time to question her. She seemed sensitive enough, if extremely nervous. When she directed him to a ramshackle house on the edge of town, he pulled up and without comment got out.

  “Dr. Merritt, she might not be—”

  “She might not be what?”

  “She might not be too nice. Annie’s not good with people.”

  “Well, I’ll try to make my best impression. You go first, Lanie.”

  The two went into the shack, and Merritt was struck by the awful odor of the place. Cats prowled the house—white cats, yellow cats, gray cats—all sorts of cats, but he hid his shock. The living area was large enough, but was cluttered with all sorts of junk. Old calendar pictures and others cut out of periodicals covered the walls. He did not have time to look long, for a woman came out. She was about the dirtiest woman he had ever seen. Lanie said, “Annie, I brought Dr. Mer-ritt by to look at that cut.”

  “I ain’t needin’ no doctor!”

  “Oh, come on now, Miss Annie. Now that I’m here let me take a look.”

  It took some persuasion, but finally Lanie talked Annie into sitting down at the kitchen table. Her arm was wrapped in a crusty bandage, and when Merritt unwrapped it, he said at once, “You’re going to need some stitches here, Annie. It will hurt a little bit.”

  “You have to do it, Annie,” Lanie said. “The doctor just wants to help you.”

  Merritt dressed the arm quickly and noticed that the old woman did not flinch. She had a stern face and would have been presentable if she were not so dirty. A scarf covered her iron-gray hair, and her dress appeared never to have been washed. “Probably a good thing I came by. That arm could have gotten infected.”

  “How much money do you want?” Annie demanded.

  “Well, this is my first day of doctoring in Fairhope, so I’m giving a bargain price today. It’s on me.”

  “I don’t take no charity.”

  “Not charity. Just a bonus.” Merritt got up and repacked his bag. “I’ll drop by in a couple of days and change that dressing. Try not to bang it if you can help it.”

  Merritt started for the door, but Lanie stayed behind and patted Annie on the shoulder. She whispered something he could not hear, and when they got outside, Merritt said, “It’s getting dark. I’d better take you home.”

  “I can walk, Doctor.”

  “No need of that. That’s what this car’s for.”

  The two got in the car, and she directed him to her house. When they pulled up outside, she turned to him and said, “Doctor, I’d like to pay you for treating Annie.”

  “Why no, Lanie. You heard what I said. My first day. It’s all free work.”

  Lanie smiled at him and he realized she was a pretty young girl.

  “If it’s free, would you come in and look at my baby sister?

  “Sure, I will. What’s wrong with her?”

  “I don’t know. She’s been crying a lot and I’m worried.”

  “What does your mother say?”

  “She . . . died a year ago.”

  Merritt saw that the girl’s face was tense. “I’ll be glad to look at her.”

  “If you won’t let me pay you, I made some fudge this morning. Would you like some of it?”

  “Fudge! I can resist anything except fudge and temptation!”

  “Come in, and I’ll fix you up a sack of it.”

  Mer
ritt got out of the car and followed the girl into the house. They were met on the steps by a huge cinnamon-colored dog who growled at Merritt but then decided he was friendly. He reared up, and Merritt was staggered by the weight of the dog who put his paws on his chest.

  “Just step on his toes, Dr. Merritt. He’s just friendly.”

  Merritt did as instructed, and the dog yelped. Then he plopped down by the wall, staring at the doctor reproachfully.

  “I think I hurt his feelings.”

  “He’s got real tender feelings, Dr. Merritt. Come on in.”

  Merritt stepped inside and saw that the kitchen was occupied. Four youngsters were there, a young girl holding a baby, and two boys.

  “This is my sister Maeva and my new sister Corliss Jeanne, and these are my brothers Cody and Davis.”

  “Well, I’m glad to meet you all. Let me have a look at this young lady.” Walking over, he reached out his arms and took the child. She began crying at once, and Maeva said, “She ain’t done nothin’ but cry. She must be sick.”

  “She doesn’t have any fever.” Merritt examined the child, and finally he stuck his finger in her mouth, and she clamped down on it. “There’s the trouble. Look, she’s cutting a tooth.”

  Lanie smiled with relief. “I’ve been so worried about her, Doctor.”

  “I think she’s just as healthy and pretty as a baby should be.”

  Dr. Merritt handed the baby back and spoke to the two boys. When Lanie gave him the paper sack full of candy, he said, “Thank you, Lanie. I promise to eat every bite of it.”

  “Thank you for taking care of Annie, Dr. Merritt.”

  “No problem. I’ll check on her in a couple of days. Nice to meet all of you,” he said.

  As soon as he was out of the room, Maeva said, “He’s better lookin’ than any doctor I’ve ever seen.”

  “You never seen any but ol’ Doc Givens!” Cody said.

  “I expect all the women will be chasin’ after him.” Maeva grinned.

  “If you was a couple years older, Lanie, you might catch him.”

  “Don’t be foolish! Now, let me get supper started.”

  Lanie was caught up in the poems she was writing about the birth of Jesus. After the others went to bed, she took up her poem about Herod. It had come to her that not everyone had been glad to see Jesus come to earth, and she struggled to write a poem about the cruel king who had the babies slain. She finally put down her pen, flexed her fingers, and read the poem aloud, whispering softly: