Cherry Ames Boxed Set 17-20

by Helen Wells

  “Mrs. Ames, you’re wonderful,” said the young man. “If I can help, let me know—and many, many thanks. I’ll be in touch to ask whether it’ll be tomorrow or Monday.”

  He looked so eager, Cherry could see he hoped it would be tomorrow. He continued down the quiet street, whistling.

  “You are wonderful,” Cherry said to Aunt Cora, and hugged her. “You won’t mind being hostess, will you?”

  “You’ll be the hostess—no, no, I’m not going along. You young people will have more fun by yourselves. Don’t worry about getting acquainted. In ten minutes you’ll all be old friends.”

  “I’m anything but worried!” Cherry said. “I’m just delighted at the prospect of a picnic with new friends.”

  “And with young Dr. Miller?” Her aunt gave her a shrewd look, which turned into a smile. “I saw you and that nice young doctor ambling down the street together at a snail’s pace.”

  “Have I detained you? I’m sorry, Aunt Cora. We were working at the office, honestly.”

  “Oh, a few minutes’ delay doesn’t matter, honey. Except that my friend Phoebe is waiting for us. She’s real interested in meeting my niece. She hasn’t seen you since you were three and fell in the duckpond.”

  “I hope I’ve improved since then,” Cherry said, and followed her aunt into the house.

  CHAPTER II

  Guest at Aunt Cora’s

  CHERRY WAS VERY FOND OF AUNT CORA—REALLY AN older cousin by marriage whom she had seen and known only in snatches all her life. Aunt Cora and her husband, Jim Ames, had always travelled a great deal, and sometimes had stopped off in Cherry’s hometown on their way to Bombay or Paris or Copenhagen. Now that Aunt Cora was a widow and “not as young as she used to be,” she stayed at home, enjoying her comfortable house and garden and her books and her many community activities. She had written to the Ameses that she would enjoy having some young company in the house.

  Cherry’s twin brother, Charlie, was too busy and fascinated with his aviation engineering job in Indianapolis to be able to visit her. But Aunt Cora’s invitation had found Cherry between jobs and thinking about what sort of nursing job she would like to try next. She had read in a professional bulletin last summer that R.N.’s were needed as rural nurses, and on inquiring, had learned there were job openings in Iowa, in Sauk County, in fact.

  From there on, it had been a matter of taking and passing the written examinations given by Iowa’s Merit System, similar to Civil Service, and undergoing field training. It helped that Cherry earlier had trained and worked as a visiting nurse in New York City. It helped further that the Visiting Nurse Service had allowed Cherry time to go to college part time and take the advanced courses required in public health nursing.

  Now she was ready for a highly independent sort of job, and very much at home in Aunt Cora’s roomy, flower-filled house. Aunt Cora’s choicest African violets grew in white pots in the living room, and Mrs. Phoebe Grisbee was fussing over them.

  “I declare, Cora, why don’t you tamp down a little tobacco on the soil? Oh, here’s your niece! My, Cherry, you certainly have changed since you fell in with the ducks!”

  “I should hope so,” Aunt Cora said amiably, and Cherry took Mrs. Grisbee’s outstretched hand.

  Her aunt’s friend was a plump, plainly dressed woman with spectacles and a big smile on her round face. She had never been farther away from home than St. Louis, and still held to many of the ideas and ways of living she had learned as a girl growing up on a farm near here.

  Cherry said, “I’m glad to see you, Mrs. Grisbee,” and thought that Phoebe Grisbee, whether as dowdy as her old car or not, must be an awfully nice person for Aunt Cora to be lifelong friends with her.

  “Mr. Grisbee,” Mrs. Grisbee explained to Cherry, “is at home all by himself, poor soul, though I did invite him. You know how Mr. Grisbee is about hen parties, Cora, and restaurant food.”

  “Yes, I know Henry’s not a ladies’ man,” said Aunt Cora. “We three ladies,” she said, turning to Cherry, “are about to have supper at Sauk’s one and only restaurant.”

  “At least I left a nice supper for him,” said Phoebe Grisbee, worrying about her husband, “and a pot of his favorite herb tea keeping hot on the stove. Cherry, you’re a nurse, you’d know about the healthful value of herbs?”

  “Mmm—well, perhaps certain herbs,” Cherry said. She wondered how much reliance Mrs. Grisbee put in farm lore and how much in tested scientific discoveries. “I don’t mean to sound official, but herbs haven’t much value, except a few as a mild tonic, Mrs. Grisbee. Modern medical science provides much better medications.”

  “Phoebe knows that perfectly well,” Aunt Cora said. “If she sets any store by herbs, it’s because she takes pleasure growing them in her garden.”

  Mrs. Grisbee nodded mildly. “Speaking of medicines, Miss Nurse,” she said, “we may be in the backwoods, but we can buy the best just the same. Our local drugstore and the door-to-door salesmen take good care of us.”

  “What door-to-door salesmen?” Cherry asked.

  “Oh, the Watkins Company man comes through these parts about six times a year,” Mrs. Grisbee said. “He’s due pretty soon again. You watch, out there on the country roads, and you’ll see a man driving a smart-looking delivery truck and going from farm to farm selling his wares. He sells a certain amount in towns, too, but mostly it’s to the farmers.”

  Aunt Cora explained to Cherry that some farm people were isolated and did not have much time to travel into the nearest town to shop; besides, a town like Sauk offered only limited supplies. Therefore, door-to-door salesmen and local pedlars brought the needed merchandise to the farmers.

  “What do they sell?” Cherry asked. She remembered seeing door-to-door salesmen occasionally in and around her hometown, but Hilton was not as rural as here. “You mentioned that they sell medicines—I guess you mean patent medicines?”

  “That’s right, patent medicine,” Phoebe Grisbee said. “Oh, liniment and cough syrup and vitamins and laxative herb tablets, and lots of other home remedies. And livestock remedies, and insect spray, and even toothpaste and vanilla and—Why, I buy all my needles and thread from Mr. Carlson; he has the best. And I count on Old Snell, whenever he turns up, for certain of my herbs and berries—he gathers ’em in the woods.”

  “That’s a real convenience,” said Cherry.

  “Well, you’ll soon be educated in country ways,” said Aunt Cora. “Now, honey, if you’re planning to change out of that uniform—”

  “I’ll be quick,” Cherry promised.

  Cherry freshened up in a hurry, brushed her dark curls until they shone, and put on a crisp red and white gingham dress.

  As they strolled the few blocks to downtown, the three women stopped to chat with friends along the way. Their neighbors were just coming out on their porches in the early evening. “Anybody for a picnic and swimming party, tomorrow or Monday?” Aunt Cora asked several young people. The Drew sisters accepted right away, and asked whether the picnic could be Sunday. They, and the Anderson young people, had made plans to visit relatives on Labor Day. Passing Dr. Clark’s white frame house on Main Street, Cherry decided to ask the housekeeper to tell Dr. Miller: “Picnic tomorrow.”

  On the rest of their walk down Main Street they met a crowd. Farmers with their entire families had driven in for Saturday night in town. The few stores were open and brightly lighted, jammed to the doors with shoppers. Boys and girls crowded into the one movie theatre and stood three deep around the drugstore soda fountain. Cherry overheard someone say there was a dance starting for the young folks one block over, at the school.

  Smith’s Restaurant was the last building in the row of stores and upstairs offices. Beyond, in shadow now, were the bank, the post office, the public library, and the courthouse with lights burning in the sheriff’s office. Cherry looked toward the courthouse for the windows of her office, through the dark trees, until her aunt nudged her. They went into the restaurant.


  Smith’s had a busy lunchroom counter in front, and in back, a dining room with tables and a few booths. “The dining room is nearly always empty,” Mrs. Grisbee said. “It’s a dandy place to gossip.”

  Mostly they talked about plans for tomorrow’s picnic, over platters of steak sandwiches and homegrown tomatoes, and about Mrs. Grisbee’s visit this summer with her sister in Missouri, just south across the Des Moines River and the state line. They discussed Cherry’s new job, and her new little car, waiting for her in Michaels’ Garage. Half of the car was a present from her dad, the other half she’d paid for herself out of savings. The county, which employed her, would pay her mileage allowance for operating the car on her calls to patients. The car was bright blue, small, inexpensive to run, and easy to park. Cherry was immensely pleased with it. On their walk home she peeked in the garage to see it. Mrs. Grisbee said her car could stay parked overnight where it was. Cherry and Aunt Cora left Mrs. Grisbee at her house—Cherry could smell the spicy herbs from her herb garden, somewhere in the dark. Then Cherry and Aunt Cora went home. Aunt Cora systematically telephoned for miles around about the picnic, with Cherry sitting beside her. Not many young persons were at home on a warm, starry Saturday night. Those who were at home accepted with glee.

  “Well,” said Aunt Cora, half an hour later, “I’ll try telephoning again bright and early tomorrow morning. I think plenty will be glad to go.”

  Aunt Cora went to the open door, stepped out on the porch, and looked up at the night sky. Stars were out in profusion, and hanging over the treetops was a big, yellow, harvest moon.

  “You’ll have a fine day tomorrow,” she said to Cherry beside her.

  “I think we’ll have a fine day in more ways than the weather, Aunt Cora.”

  “Deader than a doornail” was how Aunt Cora described her hometown. Considering that Sauk was a very small farming town in the southeast corner of Iowa, close to where the Des Moines River flows down into the Mississippi, Aunt Cora was right. Except on this fine Sunday morning! Right after church, four cars full of young persons stirred up a great deal of laughter and excitement, assembling in front of Cora Ames’s house. They were loaded down with picnic baskets, bathing suits, cameras, a guitar that belonged to plump Joe Mercer—and they raised a cheerful hullabaloo in getting acquainted with Cherry and Dr. Hal. Neighbors on their way home from church stopped, stared, and smiled.

  The four cars sped off and the carefree picnickers burst into song. Cherry was squeezed in the second car—Dr. Hal’s car—with the Van Tine brothers and the Drew girls. In two minutes flat they had left Sauk, and were rolling along on the open highway. Riverside Park was some ten miles away, “kerplunk in the middle of our territory,” Dr. Hal said. The sun beat down, the fields were still green with the crops of late summer. Dick Van Tine said their father was already getting ready to plant a stand of winter wheat.

  The road followed along the broad Des Moines River, as it came flowing down from still farther west and north. Road and river turned together, and their four cars passed an overgrown farm, with a rickety farmhouse standing far back from the highway. Cherry could see the blue river glinting behind the farmhouse. Then they drove past a woods, and turned into the dirt roadway of Riverside Park.

  Once this site had been a forest where Indians camped and fished. It still was half wild, except for a few picnic tables, a log house with lockers for bathers, and an outdoor telephone booth. Cherry went with Dr. Hal while he hunted up a lean youth who was renting rowboats at the river’s edge.

  “Hello, Ezra,” the young doctor said. “Do you know our new county nurse?” He introduced Cherry. “Ezra, Dr. Clark is out of town for the holiday weekend, and anyway I’m always on county call. I’ve instructed his housekeeper, and also the telephone operators, in case there’s an emergency, to phone me here at the park. I’m the only doctor available around here this weekend. You’ll be sure to let me know if a call comes in?”

  “Sure thing, Dr. Miller.”

  The youth turned back to his rowboats. Dr. Hal and Cherry rejoined their new friends.

  Swimming came first on the program. The water felt warm with the sun on it. On the opposite shore, the neighboring state of Missouri was so near at one point, where the river narrowed, that three of the young men swam across and back. “We’ve just been to Missouri,” they announced. “Sorry we didn’t think to send you postcards.”

  After drying off in the sun and getting dressed again, they all had lunch. It tasted especially good outdoors. Then the picnickers split up to do a variety of things. Cherry, Dr. Hal, and roly-poly Joe Mercer wanted to go exploring.

  Starting off by themselves, they walked along the river’s edge. Presently Joe Mercer announced, “Excuse me, but I’m going back to eat that last piece of apple pie before the squirrels get it.” He jogged off, leaving Cherry and Dr. Hal laughing.

  “Well, I don’t mind being a twosome,” Dr. Hal said gallantly to Cherry.

  They strolled along the shore, sometimes ducking under low branches, pausing to admire fern and the first red berries of autumn. They had not gone far when something in deep shadow caught Cherry’s attention.

  “What’s that?” she said. “Let’s go see.”

  She pushed through underbrush several paces inland. Dr. Hal, following her, pointed out a few flat, worn rocks that suggested an old trail. “But I don’t see anything, Cherry.”

  “If you’ll help me pull this low branch aside—”

  They swung the half concealing branch to one side, and before them yawned the low, rocky opening of a cave. Its interior was inky black.

  “I didn’t know there was a cave here, so close to the river,” Dr, Hal said. “And I’ve been to this park a few times.”

  “It certainly is dark in there,” said Cherry. She already had one foot inside the cave. “Come on! I thought you wanted to explore.”

  “Careful,” Dr. Hal said. He struck a match, and they entered the cave together. Dr. Hal had to stoop to get in.

  The cave was low ceilinged, small, and craggy. Cautiously, step by step, they walked deeper into the cave. The air was chill and damp. Dr. Hal struck more matches, and the flame threw grotesque shadows. When Cherry spoke, her voice sent back whispery echoes.

  “We’d better not go too far in. I can’t see any end to this.” Sometimes a cave led into an interior cave, and still another, like a catacomb of rooms. It might be unsafe to go farther.

  “I think I see something,” Dr. Hal muttered. “Just ahead if my matches hold out—”

  Dr. Hal sprinted forward. Cherry followed him. They were brought to a halt by a wooden barrier.

  “It’s nothing but an old barn door,” Dr. Hal said disgustedly. He examined it, shook it, but it held firm. “Someone wedged it in here pretty tight, I guess,” he said. “Or this old barn door has been left in here for so long that it’s half sunk into the cave walls by now.”

  “Why would anyone drag an old barn door in here?” Cherry wanted to know.

  “Oh, kids do things like that when they’re playing. Didn’t you ever play cops and robbers, or hide-and-seek, in places like this? I used to. Well, this is the far end of the cave, I guess.”

  “Or is it?” Cherry asked. “Could that old barn door be the door to something?”

  Dr. Hal knocked on the rotting wood. “It doesn’t sound as if there’s anything on the other side,” he said. “Only the back of the cave, at a guess.”

  His match went out, his last one.

  Someone was calling them. The call came from near the mouth of the cave, a man’s voice shouting:

  “Doc-tor! Doc-tor!”

  Cherry and Dr. Hal groped their way as fast as they could toward the patch of daylight at the cave’s opening. There stood Joe Mercer, puffing and puzzled.

  “Oh, so that’s where you disappeared to!” Joe Mercer said. “I’ve been hollering all around here. Ezra has a telephone message for you, Doctor. Emergency.”

  “Thanks.” Dr. Hal started off
at a run. Cherry hurried after him, hoping that the holiday emergency was not more than one doctor and one nurse could handle.

  In case you missed Cherry Ames, Camp Nurse…

  CHAPTER II

  A Puzzling Request

  BY MONDAY, CAMP BLUE WATER WAS IN FULL SWING. Everyone was busy, enjoying a swim in the lake, paying calls from cabin to cabin, and taking their first lessons in horseback riding. The arts and crafts cabin and the woodcraft area were humming with projects, and the nature counselor was in constant demand to answer questions about newly discovered plants, flowers, and animals.

  Cherry had a bird’s-eye view of the activity from the infirmary, which was a log cabin perched high up near the top of a slope. Looking down, Cherry could see the campers’ cabins scattered among the grove of sweet-smelling spruce, pine, and hemlock trees; the Midgets’ and Juniors’ cabins at a safe distance from the edge of the beautiful blue lake.

  Off to the east, at the camp entrance, stood the directors’ “Main House” and office, and the airy Mess Hall. Then came the barnlike Playhouse where the girls would put on theatrical productions, and invite the boys from Thunder Cliff to square dances. Besides these, workshop cabins, tennis courts, and grassy play areas made up the rest of camp. At the west end of camp was the cabin that Cherry shared with five other staff girls and a mouse.

  Cherry and Jean Wheeler did not mind the mouse. Since Jean Wheeler, called Nature Girl, taught nature lore and was hike leader, she had encountered many animals more frightening than a field mouse. Cherry, being a nurse, felt sympathy for all living creatures.

  “I admit a mouseless cabin would be cleaner,” Cherry said. “But honestly, Leona, there’s no need to rip open our cots each time before climbing in.”

  “I wish I knew a nice, helpful cat around here,” Leona sighed.

  Leona Jackson was the dancing teacher, her sister Doris Jackson was camp pianist. They were high-strung, city-bred young women, not used to country living. But they were willing to laugh at their own greenness. The other two occupants of this roomy cabin were Ruth M. who supervised arts and crafts, and Ruth J. who was the head swimming instructor.