Comfort

by Joyce Moyer Hostetter

  An agreement? My benefactor? It must be Peggy Sue’s daddy he was talking about. I knew that people had donated money through Mrs. Whitener’s collection jar. But Mr. Botts made it sound like Mr. Rhinehart was helping to pay my way. Daddy hadn’t told me about that.

  That explained why he was sticking with his job even when he couldn’t lift a finger at home unless Momma kept after him. He was doing it so I could walk again!

  Suddenly lots of thoughts was spinning around in my head. Thoughts about Mr. Rhinehart talking about my daddy’s problems. How much did he know? And was Daddy acting strange at work?

  “Have I let the cat out of the bag?” asked Mr. Botts. “Mr. Rhinehart didn’t mention that his involvement was confidential.”

  I shook my head. “It’s okay,” I said. “But I didn’t know he told you about my daddy’s problems.”

  Just then someone tapped on the door, and a woman in a white uniform dress stepped inside. “Good afternoon, Mr. Botts,” she said.

  While the two of them swapped greetings I noticed every little thing about her. She was slender and had pretty auburn hair and green eyes. Something about her voice and her smile put me in mind of my momma. Mr. Botts introduced us.

  “Mrs. Trotter, this is Ann Fay Honeycutt from North Carolina. She’ll be staying with you in Kress Hall.”

  “I’m so glad to meet you, Ann Fay.” Mrs. Trotter offered me her hand. Soon I was saying goodbye to Mr. Botts and she was pushing the wheelchair out the door.

  We stopped at a counter with a man in a suit and a bow tie standing behind it.

  “Ed Frogge, I’d like you to meet Ann Fay Honeycutt,” Mrs. Trotter said. She looked at me and added, “Ed is the manager of the front desk. He handles the mail, and as you’ll see, he’s generally in charge of gossip and rumors around here. But don’t you believe a word he tells you!” Mrs. Trotter laughed. It was easy to see that she and Ed enjoyed teasing each other.

  Mr. Frogge just shook his head and gave me a big grin. “It’s nice – to meet you.” He spoke in a breathless way and took short gulps of air between his words. When I heard that, I was pretty sure he’d had polio too—maybe even the same kind my brother had. At the Hickory polio hospital I’d met other patients who’d been in iron lungs. Some of them sounded like Mr. Frogge.

  “Young lady,” he said. “Don’t you – believe that nonsense – about gossip. I just report – the facts.” He winked at me then and said, “But if you see a young – man of interest here – just let me know. Maybe I can help.”

  Mrs. Trotter waved him off. “You watch out, Ann Fay,” she said. “Ed will be telling every eligible boy on campus that a pretty young girl has arrived.”

  We turned to go then, but Mr. Frogge wanted to chat. So while he and Mrs. Trotter talked, I practiced turning myself around in that wheelchair.

  There was Georgia Hall stretching way down to the dining room. It was a grand hallway with black and white diamond shapes in the tile floor—just as beautiful as I remembered. Along the walls were wicker couches and chairs with flowered cushions. And there were lots of lamps and potted plants all around.

  Just looking at all that beauty made me feel downright shabby—even with my Peggy Sue hairdo and the new dress Momma had made me. I was pretty sure this place had never seen a girl in overalls.

  There were people scattered about, reading on the couches or chatting and laughing with each other. Three girls sitting near a fireplace saw me watching and lowered their voices. I turned away.

  Mrs. Trotter was finishing her conversation with Mr. Frogge. “We shall see what we shall see,” she said, wagging her finger at him. Then she turned to me. “Ready, Ann Fay?” She pushed me out a nearby door, and we followed a red brick walkway under a covered roof.

  I couldn’t help noticing the big white columns holding up that roof. It seemed like everywhere I looked there were more of them. “This is the colonnade,” said Mrs. Trotter. “And the grassy area ahead is called the quad. I’m sure you’ll spend lots of time out here during warm weather.”

  The quad was like a park, with lots of trees and grass. There were fancy white iron benches here and there. And black lampposts with four white globes hanging so pretty on each one. The weather was warmer than back in North Carolina. So even in January there were people sitting outside and laughing and talking

  There were buildings all around the quad—like a frame around a landscape picture. “See Kress Hall?” Mrs. Trotter pointed to a white brick building on the left side of the quad. “That’s where you’ll be staying.”

  There were two men in wheelchairs on the porch of Kress Hall. One of them called out to us. “I have something to show you,” he said.

  So Mrs. Trotter took me to meet them. “This is Ann Fay. Meet Lou.” She gestured toward one man and then the other. “And Hubert. These men served our country during the war.”

  Hubert and Lou were both covered over in smiles. And for some reason, that seemed odd to me, like they were up to something. But of course I didn’t know them. So who was I to be suspicious?

  “Good to meet you,” said Hubert. He wheeled his chair a little closer and reached out his hand. I thought he wanted to shake, so I reached too. But his hand was closed. Just before our hands touched, he opened his, and right there, smack-dab in his palm, was the biggest, ugliest brown bug you ever did see! It was at least two inches long. All of a sudden it lifted its wings and flew right past me.

  “Aaaah!” I pulled back fast. It’s a good thing I wasn’t on crutches or I would probably have lost my balance.

  I heard Mrs. Trotter gasp. “Oh, Hubert, you rascal! Is that any way to welcome our new friend?”

  She wagged her finger at the two men. They were both laughing like naughty boys. She patted my arm.

  “Ann Fay,” she said. “It’s just a palmetto bug. They thrive in this warm climate. But they’re harmless. Really, they are.”

  Hubert winked at me. He was still laughing. “Welcome to Warm Springs,” he said. “And don’t worry, I wouldn’t have put it in your hand.”

  I didn’t know what to say. He seemed like a nice enough fellow. But my heart was thumping extra beats on account of him.

  “Consider yourself initiated into the Warm Springs family,” said Lou. “Practical jokes are what makes this place tick.”

  Mrs. Trotter just shook her head and took my chair again. She pushed me around the building and to a lower door at the back. “Hubert was right,” she said. “Someone is always playing tricks on someone else around here. You had better keep on your toes, Ann Fay.”

  She went on to explain that Hubert and Lou were two Navy men who had polio and had come there for treatment. “The sailors are staying on the main floor of Kress Hall,” she said. “So the girls have been moved to the lower level. For now, you have to use this back entrance.”

  I think she was trying to get my mind off that horrible bug because just as we were getting to the back door Mrs. Trotter told me to snap my fingers. So I did, and just like that, the door opened. We laughed, because of course it would have opened without me doing that.

  But I decided I was going to have a good time snapping my fingers at all the doors around that place.

  We went into a hallway with shiny tile floors and pale green walls. “Welcome to your new home,” Mrs. Trotter said. Then, before she could say another word, a tall girl come out of a nearby room and headed toward us.

  “Ann Fay Honeycutt, you’re here!” she squealed. “I’m Olivia.” She ran straight to us, stopped me in my tracks, and gave me a clumsy hug. Olivia had that kind of upturned mouth that looked like she was always smiling. I noticed right off that her arms was real skinny, so I knew they were the part of her that was affected by polio.

  I watched her waltz into the room ahead of my wheelchair.

  There were two beds in the room and one of them had a large piece of paper on it that said:

  Ann Fay, Welcome to Warm Springs

  The letters looked like they’d been c
olored by a child.

  “I know it’s sloppy,” said Olivia. “I tell my hands to color in the lines, but they don’t listen. Mother says they get tired of hearing me talk, so they just ignore me.” She laughed. “Sometimes I think she wishes polio affected my tongue instead of my hands.”

  I wasn’t paying much attention to Olivia either, because, just then, I realized there was a bathroom off our room. “Is that just for the two of us?” I asked.

  “Sure,” said Olivia. She shrugged like she was used to such things. “Do you need to go?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  Thank goodness Mrs. Trotter let me use my crutches and go to the bathroom by myself. At first I just stared at the shiny white commode and sink. And the shower stall that was covered with gray tiles. I couldn’t get over this bathroom being just steps away from my bed. And me sharing it with only one other person.

  I wished my momma could see me right that second. I thought about Daddy promising to make her a bathroom. For some reason, seeing this room made it seem more hopeless than ever. We could dream about being high society but I had a feeling that staying at Warm Springs was as close as I would ever get.

  When I finally came back out, Mrs. Trotter picked up my suitcase and laid it on the bed. “Shall we put your things in the bureau?” she asked. And the next thing I knew we had an assembly line going—with me pulling clothes out of my suitcase and handing them to Olivia, who gave them to Mrs. Trotter, who put them in the drawer.

  A couple of times Olivia dropped things. “I’m so sorry! Oh, I wish my hands would behave themselves.”

  “Really, it’s okay,” I said. I could see how her hands frustrated her.

  The closet was nearly full already with all the clothes that Olivia had in there. I didn’t think even Peggy Sue had that many dresses.

  I only had two everyday ones, four for school, and two for church.

  I decided to leave the everyday dresses in my suitcase. I knew already I wouldn’t be wearing them around this place.

  Mrs. Trotter told me that her son was in the medical building at the other end of the quad. “That’s why I work here,” she said. “We live in Alabama, but dear Leon has had so many surgeries that Warm Springs has become another home to us.”

  There was a table beside my bed, so I told Olivia to put my diary and my blue Bromo-Seltzer bottle there. She shook her head. “What if I drop the bottle?” she asked. From the way she stared at it, I could see that saving an empty medicine bottle seemed strange to her.

  “It reminds me of something Imogene told me,” I explained. “She was my friend at the Hickory polio hospital. According to her, God keeps a separate bottle for each one of us—just for storing our tears inside.”

  “There’s not much to cry about at Warm Springs,” said Olivia. “This is a place for laughing. Right, Mrs. Trotter?”

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Trotter. “And a place for friendships.”

  I had a feeling they were right. They had both been so kind to me already. So I didn’t mention the tears I cried on the train for leaving my family the way I did. As long as the two of them were talking, I could forget about the song Junior put in my head.

  “If we hurry we can still make it to the picture show,” said Olivia. She was already moving to the door.

  “Well,” I said, “I only have a little spending money. I should probably save it to buy keepsakes for my family.”

  “Oh, pooh! It doesn’t cost us a thing. The movie company donates the films to Warm Springs.”

  “Really? I can’t imagine it.”

  Olivia laughed. “Isn’t it swell? Let’s go.”

  16

  New Friends

  January 1946

  Mrs. Trotter said I would have to sit in the wheelchair to go to the picture show. It felt like I had took a step backwards all of a sudden. I’d come there to learn how to walk, and instead it seemed like I was more of a cripple than ever.

  My disappointment must’ve showed on my face. “I’m sorry,” said Mrs. Trotter. “Perhaps after the doctors examine you they will let you return to using crutches. Until then, this is a safety precaution.”

  As we were going out the door, we nearly bumped into a large woman coming in.

  “Hi, Ma,” said Olivia. “Ann Fay is here.”

  The woman gave Olivia a hug. “Wonderful! I hope you’re taking good care of her.”

  Then she turned to me. “I’m Ma Harding, your housemother.” She was wearing a nurse’s uniform and a stiff white nurse’s hat. But she was large and soft and her round face was covered in smiles. “You’re officially one of my girls now,” she said.

  I started to shake her hand, but she reached down and pulled me into a hug.

  “We were going to the Playhouse,” said Olivia. “Please, Ma?”

  Ma Harding checked her wristwatch and let go of me. “By all means! Do have a good time and be sure to introduce Ann Fay to your friends.”

  Olivia led the way through the quad. Mr. Botts was right when he said that she flitted about. She was always ahead of me and Mrs. Trotter, chatting with friends. By the time we caught up with her, she’d be taking off again to go talk with somebody else.

  The Playhouse was an old white building with a wide porch and several ramps for wheelchairs. There was vines growing around the porch posts. They didn’t have any leaves or flowers, but I knew right off that it was wisteria. I’d recognize that vine in my sleep.

  The Playhouse had lots of theater seats going up like stair steps. It also had extra room down front for wheelchairs and stretchers. There were plenty of those. Everyone seemed to be smiling. And all of a sudden I felt exactly like I did when I first visited Warm Springs. Like I hadn’t left home at all.

  We found seats next to the front row. Mrs. Trotter left us then and said she would be going off duty. “A push boy will take you to the dining room,” she said. “And I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”

  Before Mrs. Trotter left she went to a boy on one of the stretchers that was lined up at the front of the theater. The boy had a cast on his whole body. It got me to wondering if that might be the next thing they decided to do with me.

  “That’s Leon,” said Olivia. “Mrs. Trotter’s son.” Olivia waved at Leon, and he grinned and waved back. It looked like Mrs. Trotter was explaining to him who I was.

  I listened to all the jabbering around me. “Where do these people come from?” I asked.

  Olivia laughed. “Wherever polio has struck.” She started pointing to different people. “He’s from Texas. And she’s from Michigan. That man over there is from South America even.”

  Then she pointed to a girl about my age who walked with two canes and wore braces on both legs. “And there’s Suzanne. She doesn’t live at the foundation and she never even had polio,” Olivia said. “But she’s got a free pass to the Playhouse and the swimming pool whenever she wants. And she even walks from her school to get here.” Olivia jumped up and brought Suzanne over to meet me. “This is Ann Fay, my new roommate,” she said.

  “Hi.” Suzanne sounded a little out of breath. She plopped into the seat where Olivia had been sitting. “I can’t believe I actually got here before the show started.” She looked around to see who was listening and then lowered her voice. “Olivia, don’t tell anybody, but I accepted a ride.” Then she looked at me. “You’re going to love Warm Springs,” she said. “I’ve been here for over ten years and I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

  “Over ten years?” I wanted to hear more. “Did you know President Roosevelt?”

  Suzanne grinned and her big brown eyes looked pleased as peaches. “You bet I did. I was just a little thing when I met him. My real name is Suzanne. But Mr. Roosevelt asked, ‘Do you mind if I call you Suzie?’ And guess what we called him? Rosey. Of course that was before he became Mr. President.”

  I almost couldn’t believe it—here was someone who was on a nickname basis with Franklin D. Roosevelt! I wanted to ask her so many questions. But Suzan
ne was already on to another subject. She pointed to the framed pictures of movie stars and famous musicians on the walls. “They’ve all been here to visit,” she said. “And I even met Bette Davis and Jimmy Dorsey.”

  A boy rolled up to us in a wheelchair. “Hi, Suzanne,” he said. He looked at me and then at Olivia. “Is this your new roommate?”

  Olivia laughed. “How did you guess? Ann Fay Honeycutt. From North Carolina.”

  The boy stuck out his hand. “Gavin,” he said. “I’m from Florida.” He had green eyes and blond hair that fell over his forehead. And a big smile that was just the least bit crooked.

  Seemed like everyone at Warm Springs was smiling.

  Then the lights went off and we heard music. Olivia found a seat on the other side of the aisle and Gavin wheeled himself away too. And just like that, the picture was showing. But it wasn’t the feature movie. It was a March of Dimes film asking people to donate money. And what do you know? It was the one with Greer Garson called The Miracle of Hickory.

  “Look!” I said. “That’s my hospital. Oh, there’s Nurse Amanda!” I tried to spot Imogene. As far as I was concerned, she was one of the reasons for that hospital being such a miracle. I didn’t know any other hospitals that put white and black people side by side. But apparently coloreds wasn’t something to brag about in a movie.

  Then the feature come on and I tried to enjoy it. But I was too worked up to pay close attention. I watched the dark shapes of people on stretchers and wheelchairs and the way the light from the screen danced across them. Some of them were odd shaped because of special equipment they wore or the way polio had distorted their bodies.

  At first it was a little shocking to see all that. But to tell you the truth, it was comforting at the same time. It was a relief after being the oddball. I was among my own people now.

  Off and on I’d think about what my family was doing right then. Momma was probably making supper, and more than likely the girls was pestering Mr. Shoes. And Daddy? I just hoped he was helping Momma with whatever needed to be done. And not yelling.