Katherine's Prophecy

by Scott Wittenburg

  When she reached him, she quickly looked him over and an expression of horror came to her face. “My Lord, Clem! What in the world happened? You look like a drowned rat!”

  “I feel like one, too,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.

  “You’re bleeding!” she shrieked, noticing the blood on his shirt.

  “Must be from my head. Nasty bump there, I believe.”

  Nancy gently touched the lump on his head.

  “We’ve got to get Doc Pritchart to look at that as soon as possible. What’s wrong with your leg?”

  “Must’ve fallen on it—the right one. Don’t think it’s broken, though. Just bruised-up a bit.”

  Nancy gingerly touched his thigh. “It sure is swollen up! We’ve got to get you home and have Doc come and take a look at you.”

  She took the fishing pole from him and threw it aside. “Put your arm around me, Clem, and keep your weight off of that leg.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders. Although he was practically twice her size, Nancy was incredibly strong for hers.

  “How’s that?” she asked, taking a couple of steps.

  “Fine. But we’ve got a long way to go, dear,” he replied doubtfully.

  “Don’t worry—we’ll make it. You just keep holding on to me.”

  “You let me know if I’m hurting you, okay?” Clem said.

  “I will. We’ll just take it slow and easy.”

  With that, they began the arduous climb up the path. They stopped and rested a half dozen times before they finally reached the top. When they stepped out of the woods and Clem spotted the house, he let out a long grateful sigh.

  “Ah, home at last!”

  “Yes, and you’re going to lie down in bed while I take the buggy into town to fetch Doc Pritchart,” Nancy declared as they began traversing the remaining distance to their house.

  “Do you think that’s necessary, Nancy? I’ll be fit as a fiddle after a little rest.” Clem said unconvincingly.

  “Don’t try to worm your way out of seeing the doctor, Clem Porter! After I get you out of those sopping-wet clothes, I’m going straight into town to get him. No ifs, ands, or buts about it, you hear?”

  Clem sighed. “Okay, whatever you say, dear.”

  When they reached the house, Nancy assisted Clem up the steps and onto the porch then opened the door and helped him inside.

  “There’s my little girl!” he exclaimed upon seeing his tiny daughter lying in her crib near the hearth. “Daddy fell and went ‘boom,’ Katie! But he’s okay because Mommy came and saved him,” he told the wide-eyed infant staring at them as they crossed the room.

  “And Daddy has to take a bath and go to bed like a good boy, doesn’t he?” Nancy chided.

  “Did you hear that, Katie? Mommy’s making me take a bath!” he said, leaning down and gently touching her cheek.

  “Come on, Clem. You can play with Katie after the doctor has had a look at you.”

  Clem frowned, kissed his baby daughter, then said in resignation, “Okay, Mommy, if you say so.”

  Nancy led him over to a chair and eased him down into it. “Wait here while I fix your bath. I have a cook pot full of boiling water on the stove that I was going to use for tonight’s beef stew.”

  She walked over to the stove and removed a steaming pot of water then carried it over to the steel tub sitting in the far corner of the room and poured the contents in. “I’ll go fetch some more water from the well,” she announced, then carried the pot along with her through the door and outside.

  In a few minutes she returned with the cook pot and a bucket, both full of water. Clem watched her as she poured them into the tub then came back over to him.

  “Off with those clothes.”

  “I love you, Nancy,” he said as she helped him off with his shirt.

  “I love too, sweetie,” she said then kissed him on the cheek.

  She pulled off his boots and eventually managed to remove his soaking wet trousers then let out a gasp. “My Lord, Clem, that leg looks horrid! I’ll bet Doc’s going to have to splint it. How bad does it hurt, honey?”

  “It’s there,” he grimaced.

  “Let’s get you over to the tub now,” she said then helped him out of the chair and over to the tub.

  Once he was settled in, she handed him a bar of soap and said, “I have to change before going into town. Just relax and I’ll help you out when you’ve finished bathing.”

  “Alright, Nan.”

  Clem watched her as she went over to where the bed was and began undressing. She removed his old work shirt and flung it onto the bed then sat on the edge to take off the pair of faded dungarees.

  As he bathed, he thought how lucky he was to have such a beautiful woman as his wife. She hadn’t seemed to have aged a day since they’d gotten married over ten years ago. She still had a shapely figure—even after having given birth to Katie. And she was still the kindest, most loving woman he’d ever known.

  When he’d finished, she came over and helped him out of the tub then dried him off with a towel. She then helped him over to the bed and tucked him in.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said, leaning down and kissing him on the lips. “And don’t you dare move from this bed,” she added.

  “Okay, dear. Be careful.”

  “I will. Good-bye.”

  After Nancy went out the door, Clem leaned over to the window beside the bed and looked outside. He watched as she walked briskly over to the barn and untied the horse then climbed up into the buggy. A moment later she had the buggy out of the barn, and with a snap of the reins and a firm “git-up!” Betsy responded, and away they went down the winding mountain road that would eventually take them into Ashland Falls.

  When she was out of sight, Clem laid back on the pillow and yawned wearily. The hot bath had made him feel better, but he realized now that he was completely exhausted. He glanced over toward Katie who was fast asleep in her crib then closed his eyes. In seconds, he too, was fast asleep.

  The sound of horse hooves on the road awakened him. He leaned over and peered out the window to see Nancy returning in the buggy with Doc Pritchart following behind. He watched them as they drove up to the barn and tied up the horses then began walking toward the house.

  “Here’s your patient,” Nancy announced as she came through the door with Doc Pritchart in tow.

  Clem looked over at them. “Hi, Doc. Sorry you had to come all the way up here, but Nancy insisted on it.”

  “Never you mind, Clem. It’s always a pleasure to see you folks. And I haven’t seen this young’un since I delivered her,” the elderly doctor said, approaching Katie’s crib. “My, she’s growing like a weed! Hello, sweetie,” he said, reaching his hand down to tickle her chin.

  “Yes, she sure is getting big. She’s got a big appetite, too,” Nancy declared, then blushed.

  “Well, there’s no harm in that—all that milk will make you grow up strong and healthy, eh little one?”

  Doc Pritchart then turned and walked over to Clem. “So tell me what happened, Clem. Nancy says you took quite a tumble down at the creek,” he said, opening up his grip and taking out a stethoscope.

  “Well, I was fishing when it happened,” Clem began. “I hooked a big old trout that probably went two and a half or three pounds, and the varmint got snagged up in the rocks. My fishing line snapped clean in two, but he was still there; tangled up in the rocks. So I figured I could go out there and pull him out of the water, and like a durn fool I started jumping the rocks. Then I slipped and hit my head, I reckon. Knocked me plum out!”

  “Uh-huh,” the doctor nodded, then began checking Clem’s heart and blood pressure. After he felt his pulse, he said, “Sit up a second and let me take a look at that head of yours.”

  Clem sat up in the bed and the doctor examined the lump on his head.

  “Hmm—quite a nasty bump, indeed. How long would you say you were knocked out, Clem?”

  “About an ho
ur or so,” he replied.

  “I see. That’s pretty darn long,” the doctor declared, his face suddenly taking on a more serious look.

  “How did you feel when you came to? What I mean is, were there any side-effects; like numbness in your fingers or toes—or any other unusual sensations?”

  Clem thought for a moment. “Well, I sort of forgot who I was at first.”

  “Amnesia?”

  Clem nodded.

  Nancy shot him a look of surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me you had amnesia, Clem?”

  Clem cast her a sheepish grin. “Didn’t think it was worth gettin’ you all upset over, I reckon.”

  “Clem Porter! You should be ashamed of yourself!” Nancy exclaimed, leering at him.

  “Sorry, Nan,” he said with a shrug.

  Doc Pritchart asked, “How long did the amnesia last, Clem?”

  “I don’t know . . . Maybe ten minutes or so.”

  The doctor nodded his head slowly. “I see. Do you feel like you’ve gotten all your memory back now? Think hard, Clem, because it’s very important,” he added, his voice stern.

  Clem thought it over for a moment then replied, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten it all back. As far as I can tell, anyway.”

  “Well, let’s just try something—just to be on the safe side. On what day were you born?” he asked.

  Clem chuckled. “November 7th, 1875.”

  Doc Pritchart glanced over at Nancy standing at the foot of the bed. She nodded.

  “And Nancy’s birthday?” he asked.

  “July 8th, 1876,” Clem replied, “Come on and give me a tough question, Doc!” Clem laughed.

  “Just one more, then. When and where was Katie born?”

  Clem looked over at Katie’s crib then back at the doctor. His face beamed with pride as he replied, “Monday, April 29th, 1907 at 6:47 AM; right here in this very house.”

  Doc Pritchart smiled broadly. “Your memory is fine, Clem. Better than mine, I might add!”

  All three laughed.

  “Now let me take a look at that leg,” the doctor said.

  Clem pulled down the covers and revealed his bruised and swollen thigh.

  “Land sakes, you really banged that up good, didn’t you?” he exclaimed then began examining it.

  “Yeah. I must’ve hit a rock when I fell.”

  “Can you put any weight on it?”

  “A little. It hurts like the dickens, though.”

  “Well, I don’t think it’s broken; possibly a hairline fracture, though. Actually, I think you just bruised up the muscle good and proper. I’ll give you something for the pain; and you’d better stay off of it for a few days.” the doctor told Clem.

  Clem’s face wore a worried look. “But I have to go to work, Monday.”

  Doc Pritchart smiled sympathetically. “I’m afraid you’re in no shape to go to work, Clem. Not until that swelling goes down and you’re able to put some weight on it.

  Clem looked over at Nancy. “I hope old man Hoffman doesn’t get in a huff over me taking time off from the mill.”

  “I’m sure he’ll understand, Clem.” Nancy replied.

  “I sure hope so. I hate losing a day’s pay, too,” he groaned.

  Doc Pritchart said, “I’m sorry, Clem, but look on the bright side. You could have broken that leg and then you’d be laid up for a lot longer than a few days.”

  “You’re right, Doc. It could be worse, I reckon,” Clem admitted.

  Doc Pritchart started putting everything back into his grip and said, “Well, I’d better be off. Faye Flannagan’s expecting any day now, and I promised I’d check on her this afternoon.”

  He took out two small bottles from his bag then handed them to Nancy. “Give Clem two of the white pills every four hours for the pain, and one green one three times a day for the swelling.”

  “Okay, Doc. I’ll walk you out,” Nancy said as the doctor stood up.

  “Thanks, Doc,” Clem said.

  “You’re welcome, Clem. Get lots of rest and stay off that leg, okay?”

  “Alright, Doc.”

  “Good day,” he said then followed Nancy to the door.

  When she returned, Clem sighed and said, “I hate being bedridden! I feel so useless.”

  Nancy went over to him and gave him a kiss. “Well, you aren’t useless, and you’re going to do exactly as the doctor told you to do. I’ll fetch you a glass of water so you can take your medicine.”

  Clem groaned as she went over to the cupboard and took out a glass and filled it with water from a pitcher. She brought the water over and handed it to him along with the pills.

  Clem popped the pills into his mouth and washed them down. “Thanks, honey.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Just then, Katie started crying.

  “Sounds like Katie might be getting hungry. I’d better feed her,” Nancy said then went over to the crib. She picked her daughter up and added, “It looks like our little girl needs changed, too.”

  Nancy carried Katie over to Clem and handed her to him. He cradled her in his arms and started rocking her as Nancy went to get a fresh diaper. When she returned, she took Katie from him and laid her down near the foot of the bed then began the task of changing her diaper.

  “You can thank your daddy for those beauty marks on your little bottom,” she said, observing the three tiny moles, arranged in a near-perfect triangle on Katie’s left buttock.

  “What did Doc Pritchart say that the odds were of her having that birthmark—one in a million?” Clem said.

  “Something like that,” Nancy laughed. “He also added that it made Katie an extra-special child. I must agree with him, because her father is certainly an extra-special man!”

  “And my wife is an extra-special woman! I reckon that makes all three of us extra-special, eh?” Clem chuckled.

  “But I don’t have as cute of a butt as you two have.”

  “Ha! That’s where you’re wrong, gal! You’ve got the cutest butt in the whole world, and that’s the God’s honest truth! You don’t need any beauty marks!” Clem declared.

  “Flattery will get you everywhere, Clem,” she smiled coyly as she fastened the last safety pin. “Now it’s feeding time for you, sweetie,” she told her daughter.

  Nancy stood up and removed her dress then picked Katie up and sat down on the bed next to Clem. She unlaced her corset then brought Katie to her breast.

  “Save a little of that for Daddy,” Clem quipped then laughed heartily.

  Nancy turned red. “Shame on you, Clem Porter!” she exclaimed then began laughing along with her husband.

  When Nancy was finished nursing Katie, she carried her over to the crib and covered her with the blanket then took the cook pot outside to fill it with water. When she returned, she set the pot on the stove and fired it up then began cutting up vegetables for stew.

  “Can you help me up, Nan?” Clem called. “I want to sit outside for a bit while you’re cooking supper.”

  “You should stay in bed,” Nancy objected. “You need the rest.”

  “But I’m not tired at all. I napped while you went to fetch the doctor.”

  “Oh, all right,” she sighed. “But only for a little while.”

  She went over and helped him out of bed then walked him over to the door and out onto the porch. Then she led him over to a chair and lowered him down into it.

  “Thanks, dear,” he said.

  “I’ll be back out to get you in fifteen minutes,” she warned then turned and went back inside.

  Clem breathed in the crisp mountain air and gazed out at the landscape before him. He watched as the breeze gently blew the leaves on the tops of the trees on the mountain ridge to the west where the sun was just beginning to set, and breathed a sigh of contentment. It was a typical mid-spring afternoon on the mountain; cool and breezy with the scent of pine and new life lingering in the air. And quiet; so quiet that one could hear the singing of a bluebird from a hundred y
ards away.

  He felt fortunate to have had the opportunity to settle here on the mountain; but was regretful of the circumstances under which he’d obtained the tract of land.

  He had inherited this land from his father after he’d passed away nearly fifteen years ago. His father hadn’t been wealthy by any means, but he’d grown up being a close friend to John Hoffman as a child, and the two had remained close throughout the years. Clem’s father had been a widower at the time and was having a hard time making ends meet; his vocation as a cobbler was far from lucrative, and he had a young son to raise all by himself. So John Hoffman gave him this tract of land as a personal gift, under the condition that he be able to continue hunting and fishing the land as he always had in the past. Clem’s father had graciously accepted the terms.

  His father had built this one-room house himself over a period of two years, scrimping and saving so that he might be able to purchase the building materials as his budget would allow. When the house was finally completed, Clem and his father moved out of the old worn-down shack near the outskirts of Ashland Falls and into their new home. Clem had been ten years old at the time.

  Six years later his father passed away, leaving Clem the land, the house, and totally on his own. Once again, John Hoffman had saved the day—giving him a job as an apprentice at his textile mill. He worked hard at learning the textile trade and in fact discovered that he enjoyed his job, as well as the decent income it afforded him during a time when money was scarce. Two years later, he’d met then married Nancy; overjoyed at the prospect of settling down and starting a family.

  Up until then, his relationship with his benefactor and employer had been amicable. They had occasionally gone fishing and hunting together on the mountain and had enjoyed a close working relationship together at the mill.

  But not long after his marriage to Nancy, Clem began noticing a change in John Hoffman’s attitude toward him. He no longer invited him to go hunting or fishing with him, and his advancement through the ranks at the mill, which up until then had been steadily upward, suddenly stalled altogether. He’d been promised a promotion to foreman in the near future, but in all those years since, it had never happened.

  Clem had no idea why John Hoffman had suddenly forsaken him. He’d been tempted several times to approach him and ask him what was wrong but could never quite bring himself to do it. Something told him not to rock the boat; that he owed John Hoffman more than he could ever repay him, and it wouldn’t be wise to “look a gift horse in the mouth,” as the expression went. So he’d remained silent, hoping and praying as the years went by that he wouldn’t someday suddenly be told that he’d been fired from the mill.