“What about Phillip?” Beth questioned. “He’s my younger, and he shares a room with his brother.” Fear reverberated in every word.
“He should be fine,” the doctor replied, placing a hand on Beth’s arm. “We don’t quarantine for meningitis because there is no conclusive information about the risk of contagion.”
Beth felt only minor relief at the doctor’s words. “I’ll need to get word to Mrs. Hazel Miller on Second Street. She’ll need to come and stay with Phillip. I’m afraid I don’t have a telephone. Could you send word to her when you get back into town?” Beth asked hopefully.
“I’d be happy to. I’ll also get a couple of soldiers to drive you and your son to the airport. Just wait here until they arrive,” the doctor instructed.
“I’ll be ready.”
An hour later, Beth waved a hesitant good-bye to Phillip and Mrs. Miller. The soldiers showed up as promised, and with them came the nurse who’d assisted Beth at the doctor’s office. The woman literally took over and left Beth with nothing to do but look on in helpless frustration.
The drive to the airstrip was a short one, but to Beth, every minute smothered her in apprehension. The soldiers pulled up next to the transport plane and within moments had moved Gerald and the nurse to the stripped-out fuselage of a Lockheed Vega.
Beth’s worried look caught the attention of the pilot. “Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll have your boy to Fairbanks in less than two hours.”
Beth offered the man a fleeting smile. “Thank you. I know you’ll do your best.” She allowed him to help her up into the plane, her mind filled with only one thought.
“Dear God,” Beth breathed against the drone of the airplane’s radial engine, “please help my son. Please heal my baby.”
Chapter 12
August rotated his shoulder gingerly and waited for any indication of pain. When none came, he smiled. Finally, he was able to move with nearly the same mobility he’d had before the accident.
He offered a wave to the pilot who’d just landed him at the Northway airstrip, then went in search of the Public Roads office and his boss.
Several minutes later, August was sitting beside the cluttered desk that Ralph Greening continued to work from whenever in Northway.
“Catching up on paperwork is worse than dealing with the dirt, rain, and mosquitoes,” Ralph griped. “I just got back from our old camp. You certainly gave us a scare,” he added, offering August a cup of coffee. “This stuff’s getting mighty hard to come by up here, so don’t ever say no when somebody offers you a free cup,” he teased.
August took the coffee and lifted the mug slightly. “To your health!”
Ralph laughed and joined him in the salute. “And to yours!”
The coffee tasted stale and was only lukewarm, but August didn’t care. He was finally going to see Beth again, and he was anxious to complete his work with Ralph.
“Doc says I can go back to work, but nothing too strenuous,” August said with a grin. “Whatever that means.”
“It might mean that you’re not to be dumping caterpillars over the edge of muddy embankments again.” At this both men laughed.
“Yeah, I suppose that’s what he meant,” August agreed and continued. “Anyhow, the way I see it, it’s all up to you. You just tell me where to report, and I’ll take care of getting there.”
Ralph nodded, but then the thought of Bethany Hogan’s hasty retreat from Northway came to mind. He’d only learned of her troubles that morning. His frown and knitted brows caused August to put his coffee mug down.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” August asked.
“I went to see Mrs. Hogan today. You know, I wanted to tell her about your accident. I already felt bad that so much time had passed since you were flown to Anchorage, but I had no way of getting back here to tell her,” Ralph said apologetically.
“I understand, Ralph, and I’m sure that Beth did,” August offered.
“No, she wasn’t there,” Ralph said with a shake of his head. “Mrs. Hogan had one of her boys take sick. He was pretty bad, and they had to get him to a hospital. They flew out a couple days ago. I think they took him to Fairbanks.”
August turned ashen. “Which boy?”
Ralph leaned back and closed his eyes. “I think it was the older one, but I can’t be sure. Can’t picture him in my mind. You’d best go on down to the roadhouse and ask Mrs. Miller. She’s been taking care of the place and the other boy.”
August was already on his feet. “I’ll do that. I guess it might be a spell longer before I’ll be ready to work after all,” August said as he made his way out.
“I kind of figured that,” Ralph called after him.
August took off at a full run for the roadhouse. He came up the path panting and out of breath, with an aching in his shoulder that hadn’t been there that morning. He pounded on the front door and waited impatiently for someone to open up.
“Why, Mr. Eriksson,” Mrs. Miller stated in disbelief. “We thought you’d left for good.”
“I was injured in an accident and flown to Anchorage. I just returned not more than a half-hour ago, and Mr. Greening tells me that Gerald is sick.”
Mrs. Miller nodded, and her eyes turned misty. “Poor little boy,” she said in a hushed tone. “The doctor doesn’t expect him to make it.”
“What?” August nearly yelled the word. “What in the world are you talking about? What’s wrong with him?”
“Spinal meningitis,” Mrs. Miller said ominously. “Beth flew with him to the hospital in Fairbanks, but the doctor said he might already be too far gone. With meningitis, there’s just no way of knowing.”
“What about Phillip?” August asked with dread.
“Oh, he’s fine,” Mrs. Miller answered with a smile. “We’ve been baking since before light. He’s asleep right now, but I could wake him if you like.”
August barely heard the words. He felt sick at the thought of Gerald dying and knew that it would be hard to see Phillip just then. He thought of Beth in Fairbanks, bearing alone the burden of her desperately ill child. “No, don’t wake him. I’ve got to get to Beth,” he muttered.
“I know it’d mean the world to her,” Mrs. Miller said with a bit more composure. “She talked so often about you, wondering where you’d gone and if she’d ever see you again.”
August nodded. “I’ve thought a great deal about her, too. Being in a sickbed does that for you—gives you plenty of time to think about the things you wished you’d done differently.”
“I know she’ll be needing you now,” Hazel replied, touching August at the elbow. “She cares a great deal about you.”
“I know,” August said, turning to leave.
Hazel called out after him, “Please let us know how Gerald is.”
“I’ll do that. I only hope I’m not too late,” August called over his shoulder as he bid the older woman a hasty good-bye. “Tell Phillip that Daddy was here and that I’ll see him real soon.”
“I will, Mr. Eriksson. I will,” Mrs. Miller called out and waved. She whispered a silent prayer for the man as he rounded the bend and disappeared from view.
God was with August as he hurried back to the airstrip. He managed to secure passage on a plane going to Fairbanks, and after their scenic flight and bumpy landing, August went in search of the hospital.
The Fairbanks hospital wasn’t a stately affair, but it was efficient. August hastened to find a nurse who could direct him and then made his way to the room where she said he’d find Gerald and Bethany.
At least he’s still alive, August thought as he made his way down the corridor. Through the doorway of Gerald’s room, August saw Beth.
She looked frighteningly small and helpless as she prayed at the bedside of her dying child. He could nearly hear her pleading words as she begged for the life of her son.
Hesitating on the threshold, August wondered how she’d react to his arrival. He glanced at Gerald’s pale, nearly lifeless form and back
again to the boy’s mother. “Dear God,” August breathed, “please hear her prayers.”
August stepped forward. The noise caught Beth’s attention. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of August.
“August,” she breathed the word.
Beth looked gaunt and drawn, but August thought her beautiful. He opened his arms, praying that she’d come to him.
Without hesitation, Beth got to her feet, crossed the room, and wearily fell into August’s arms. “Oh August, I prayed you’d come. I prayed that God would find you and deliver you to me. Does that sound hopelessly selfish?” she questioned in a sob.
“He heard your prayers about that and then some,” August stated. “I’ve come back to you, but only because I came back to God first.”
Beth pulled back with tears streaming down her face. “Really? Oh August, that’s the best possible news. Now if only …”
August cupped Beth’s quivering chin in his hand. “If only Gerald would get well,” he answered for her.
“Yes,” Beth replied. “August, he’s so sick, and Dr. Matthews doesn’t know whether he can get well or not.”
“Is it meningitis as they feared?” August asked softly. He glanced over Beth’s shoulders at Gerald.
“Yes,” Beth answered and reached up to take hold of the hand that held her. “They sent for an experimental drug from the States, but it hasn’t seemed to help.”
“Well, we will have to pray together for him,” August said tenderly.
Beth closed her eyes and nodded. “I’ve prayed alone enough for both of us, but I know there’s strength in numbers. I’m afraid this time we need all the help we can get.”
“Don’t worry, Beth. You never have to be alone again. I’ve done a great deal of thinking and growing up as well. While I had nothing to do but lay in that hospital bed—”
“What?” Beth said pulling away from August. “You were in the hospital? But why? Are you all right?”
“Relax,” August said, pulling Beth back against him. “I was in an accident awhile back. It happened while I was grading the highway. The tractor fell over an embankment that had been weakened by rain. I’m fine now—just a little stiffness in my shoulder and a scar on my head.”
Beth’s eyes searched for the red welt. She reached up a hand and pushed back August’s hair to reveal the scar. “Oh August!” she exclaimed. “Does it hurt you still?”
“Not much. My collarbone was broken, and it still smarts a bit if I overdo, but really I’m fine. I just didn’t want to send a letter to explain all that had happened. I wanted to wait until I could see you in person.”
“I thought you hated me and had left for good,” Beth blurted out honestly. “I felt so bad for sending you away.” She glanced back at Gerald. “The boys were just heartbroken.”
August nodded. “I knew they would be, and I hated myself for walking away. I knew I needed to listen, but I couldn’t make myself turn around. What you said was exactly what I needed to hear. Of course, I couldn’t see that until I was half-dead. Then, it was as if God had seen that simple methods wouldn’t work with me, and He reached down with something I couldn’t ignore.”
“He usually does,” Beth said with the slightest beginnings of a smile.
August acknowledged hers with a smile of his own. “God knew he was dealing with a particularly stubborn case. I’d run as far as I could, and when God couldn’t pin me down any other way, I guess he used a tractor.” August’s words were lighthearted in spite of his ordeal.
“I confessed my sins, knowing that the only thing real in my life was my relationship with God. I remembered when my mother had put me on her knee and explained that each of us needed a Savior. Some people seek one in a lifestyle or a job, she said. Others try to force people into that role, but what we need is Jesus.
“I remember even now how amazed I was that Jesus had come to earth to save my soul. It only took remembering that simple wonderment to make me take a more realistic look at what I’d done to myself. You were a brave woman to stand your ground with me, Beth.”
Moaning from the bed brought Beth and August to Gerald’s side. “I’m not so brave,” Beth murmured, looking fearfully into August’s eyes. August placed his hand against the boy’s fiery brow, while Beth took his hand.
“I’m here, Gerry. Momma’s here,” Beth whispered softly. Gerald calmed, opened his eyes, then closed them again. Beth began to cry softly. Exhausted by her vigil at Gerald’s sickbed, she collapsed across the edge of the bed.
August came and lifted her to her feet. “Beth, come on. You have to rest.”
“No! I must stay with him,” she protested as August led her from the room. “He might wake up, and I don’t want him to be afraid.”
“We’ll just be down the hall. I’ll tell the nurse to watch over him. She’ll let us know if he wakes up,” August said firmly as he pulled Beth along.
Beth’s protests only further weakened her. Finally, she gave up and allowed August to take her to the waiting room. August’s strong arms offered her the strength that she’d prayed for. She breathed a prayer of thanks while August helped her to a chair.
“You wait right here, and I’ll see if I can’t get us a cup of coffee or something,” August said.
Beth nodded and watched as he walked to the nurses’ station. How grateful she was for his direction and strength. She had been so afraid of never seeing him again, and now, just when God knew she needed August the most, he was at her side.
The aching in her heart refused to abate, however. The doctor had told her there was no hope for her son. No hope whatsoever.
Beth knew better than to give up hope. While there was life, God could work. But it was hard to maintain hope in the face of such devastation. How could she explain to a doctor she’d only met that this child had to live, that without him a part of her heart would be forever broken? He was a man of medicine, and his cold, scientific attitude left Bethany empty.
Her eyes misted at the thought of Gerald’s suffering. He was so little and defenseless. He didn’t deserve this sickness. Beth felt weak to the point of being sick. How much more could either of them take?
God had heard her prayers, Beth reminded herself. After all, August was here, and he’d renewed his faith in God. God had surely sent August to help her through Gerald’s illness. Leaning back against the chair, Beth closed her eyes and tried to pray. She was so tired, so weary of fighting alone.
Within moments, sleep washed over her. August returned to find Beth eased back against the chair sound asleep, but she still wore the worried concern he’d noted when he first saw her at Gerald’s bed.
“Give her peace, Father,” August prayed as he sat down beside her. “She’s remained faithful and true, Lord. Please renew her strength.”
Chapter 13
Throughout the long evening, August maintained his watchful guard over Bethany’s sleeping form. He managed to find a blanket to cover her with and continued praying for both Beth and Gerry as she slept.
August watched the seemingly motionless hands on the clock. Nine, then ten o’clock dragged by, and still what sky he could see through the window showed streaks of light. The long summer night made it impossible to judge time.
Eleven, twelve, and finally one o’clock passed without word of Gerald’s condition. August hesitated to ask for fear of waking Beth. She needed sleep more than anything else. He’d nearly decided to risk the disturbance when the nurse appeared with Gerald’s doctor.
“I’m afraid I have bad news,” Dr. Matthews said as he stood before August.
Beth stirred at the sound of voices and sat up. “What is it?” she questioned.
“Your son is failing rapidly. I suggest you and your husband come say your good-byes,” the doctor replied. Neither Beth nor August sought to correct the mistaken reference to their relationship.
Beth began to cry, and August could only hold her close and stroke her head. He turned weary eyes to the doctor before asking, “Are you
certain there is nothing else we can do?”
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Matthews answered. “It is never easy to tell parents that their child won’t make it. Gerald has fought hard to get this far, but he’s too weak and the disease is taking too great a toll. He won’t make it through the night.”
“No, no,” Beth sobbed. “He must live. He mustn’t die!”
“Mrs. Hogan, please don’t do this to yourself. It is of no help to your son. He’s beyond our care now, and nothing can be gained by making yourself sick over his passing.” The doctor’s words seemed callous to Beth.
“You talk as though he were already dead,” Beth replied as she pushed August away and got to her feet.
“For all intents and purposes, Mrs. Hogan,” Dr. Matthews said without emotion, “he is. I can’t do anything more for him. He’s not responding to medicine, and his body is too spent to continue fighting. Let him go. You’re a young, healthy woman, Mrs. Hogan. I’m certain you and your husband will have other children.”
“I want other children, Doctor,” Beth said with an undercurrent of anger to her voice. “But not to replace a dead child. I refuse to give up hope that God can deliver my baby from this illness. I have faith that He can work beyond your abilities.”
The doctor shrugged his shoulders. “I cannot deny your tenacity, Mrs. Hogan. I only hope that your faith is not misplaced.”
“It isn’t,” Beth stated firmly as she pushed past the doctor and his nurse. “If you can’t give me any reason to hope, I know who can.”
August watched as Beth moved down the hall with renewed determination. He turned to the doctor and spoke. “I can understand a portion of your unemotional response to her, Dr. Matthews. You must see dying every day and find it as grotesque and unbearable as I do. However, I will take it as a personal insult should you feel the need to ever resort to crushing her hopes again.”
“I assure you, sir,” the doctor interjected, “that stripping that young mother of hope was never my intention. She has labored long and hard at the bedside of your child. She has demonstrated a strength beyond human capabilities. I admire all that she has done, but I also want her to understand that there comes a time when nothing more can be done. We have reached that point with your son.”
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