Streams of Mercy

by Lauraine Snelling

  Taking a tongue depressor from her pocket, she said softly so as not to wake the others in the room, “I would like to check your throat. Can you open your mouth, please?”

  With a slight nod, he did as she asked. Even in the poor light, she could see the membrane was receding. She felt his neck and the swollen glands along his jawline. “You are doing well. If I help you, would you like to sit up for a while?” Threading her arm behind his shoulders, she lifted him and pushed another pillow in place. “How’s that?”

  He nodded again and pointed to the encumbrance in his neck, the air he inhaled whistling in the tube.

  “We’ll take it out as soon as the swelling in your throat decreases sufficiently. You need to eat as much as you are able, and perhaps tonight or tomorrow, you can sit up and dangle your feet over the edge. You have been so ill that it will take your body time to rebuild strength.”

  He mouthed “Thank you” and pointed to the others in the room—his wife, who had not had as severe a case, and one of his children.

  “They are on the mend also. I’ll have someone bring you some soup.”

  Sorry I doubted, Lord, she thought as she left the room. She had awakened with a feeling of despair, but thanks to God, that was gone, at least for now. At the nurses’ station, she left orders to feed the man and continued checking the other patients. One child was still unresponsive, two others barely so. They could still lose any or all of them. She picked up Ada, the unresponsive girl who appeared to be two or three, and carried her to the steam room, where she put a towel over her head and held the little one so her face was down toward the kettle to inhale the most steam. “Please, Lord God, restore health to this child. Clear the horrible—” The child convulsed once, then again, then lay flaccid in her arms.

  “No, Father, do not let her die! Bring her back.” She sat down in a chair and, laying the girl across her lap, compressed the girl’s chest. She shuddered, wretched, and a glob of mucus flew out of her mouth and onto Astrid’s apron. Another followed. Astrid wiped the girl’s mouth with a square of muslin and tented them over the steam kettle again. The child was breathing far more easily.

  Abigail and Mercy came in to carry another patient back to bed. “She sounds better.”

  Astrid described what happened. “I’ll take her back to bed now.”

  “Why not leave her here? I’ll sit with her.” Abigail reached for the child. The young nurse had an affinity for small children, that was for sure.

  “Then I’ll help you, Mercy.” Together they carried an older woman back to a fresh bed and settled her.

  Mercy smiled. “Thank you. I need to give her some cough syrup and broth. She is taking both better now.”

  “How are you holding up?”

  Mercy shrugged. “Tired, but I’m scheduled to sleep in about half an hour.”

  “Good.”

  Miriam returned from the tent and smiled at Astrid. “I set all the people still living on the train to scrubbing the cars inside and out—all the bedding, all the clothing. Manny takes the elephants down to the river now to eat the willow trees. He sure is in love with those elephants. Especially the baby, Fluff. Can you imagine that? Four hundred pounds of . . . fluff!”

  Astrid laughed in spite of herself. Maybe people were getting better and that was buoying her spirits. And Fluff. The baby elephant too. “Little Ada coughed up a huge plug and Abigail is still holding her over the steam. What a difference it made in her breathing. She convulsed, and I thought she died right in my arms. I am so grateful Mor taught me about steam treatments.”

  “We are doing unconventional treatments here, you realize that?”

  “I know, but they seem to be working. As Mor says, it’s all in God’s hands.”

  Miriam nodded. “We need to document this for Chicago. They are keeping records of all we send them, and they are using our experiences in their teaching to both their nursing students and physicians.” She paused. “Although Dr. Commons seems to have a problem with much of it.”

  “I know. If he can’t read it in a medical book, he is convinced it has no value.” She didn’t add “like so many other doctors,” some of whom still used blood-letting as a treatment, closed windows, heat for burns, and other outrageous practices.

  With an overwhelming need to talk to her mother, Astrid glanced around the area to make sure all was being done that could be and went to the oak box on the wall. “Please ring my mother.” One of the immigrant wives who could speak fair English after her classes with Amelia Jeffers was working the switchboard.

  “Right away.” A bit of silence and she said, “Go ahead.”

  “Oh, Freda, could I please talk to Mor?”

  “Ja, I will get her. Are you all right?”

  “As well as we can be, but no new emergencies. I just need to hear her voice.” She heard the earpiece bump against the wall as it dangled. Closing her eyes, she could see the kitchen, knowing there were pots on the stove, baking bread filling the house with fragrance, and . . .

  “Astrid, oh how I have wanted to talk with you.”

  “And I you. Did your arm get sore after the inoculation?”

  “Some, but nothing to be concerned about.”

  “Just tell me what is going on there. It seems like I’ve been here for weeks, not just days.”

  “Freda has started another batch of cheese today. We will send soft cheese to the hospital in the next couple of days. That should go down easy and build people up. She has gingerbread in the oven. I am making more cough syrup now that I have more honey. The Baards sent me some as soon as they heard we needed it. I ordered glycerin for the lotion, and it should be here soon. Hmm, what else? Oh, we miss Manny so. There is a big hole in our family.”

  “How is Clara?”

  “She is getting bigger, pushing out her dresses. But also we are getting some meat on her bones. We hope and pray that she came to us early enough that she will have a healthy baby. You can feel kicking feet. She smiles and lays a hand on her big ball, as she calls it, when the baby is active. It’s been so long since I was this close to a pregnant mother, I’d forgotten many of the joys. Well, the hard parts too.”

  “Oh, Mor, it is so good to hear your voice. This hospital is just not the same without you sitting here praying and singing. If you can think of anything else we can try to make the poor people more comfortable . . .” She went on to describe some of the patients.

  “I wish I could be there. Reverend Solberg even canceled church just to be safe.”

  “I know. People are being so careful about doing what we ask. Symptoms can show up any day for our people here in Blessing. Keep praying for protection.” Astrid sighed, weary of body and heart both.

  “And God’s mercy.”

  “They are calling me. Thank you, Mor.”

  “We are praying for all of you, all day and all night, prayers go up.”

  “Make sure you get plenty of rest, all of you. ’Bye.” Astrid hung up the receiver. “Lord, protect them, please.” A verse floated through her mind again. Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you. Watching the suffering going on around her made trusting that verse difficult. One of these days she might have to forget battling tears and just let them drip. She glanced down at her apron. She’d not changed since she’d been in the steam room with little Ada. Before going any further, she untied and tossed her soiled apron into the wash bin, grabbed a clean one off the shelf, and returned to the ward, tying it as she went. She checked on Elizabeth, refusing to awaken her when the schedule said so, and no one argued with her.

  “Have you heard anyone coughing on that ward?”

  Deborah fought back a yawn. “Not that I know of, but then the roof could have fallen and unless it fell on me, I’d have slept right through it. Why?”

  “I heard someone coughing in there. Let me check your throat. Say ah . . . No, you are fine.” But the fear plagued her, so she checked each one as they went first to the kitchen for food and even more so, life-
sustaining coffee.

  When Elizabeth finally awoke, Astrid was sound asleep. However, she had left orders for the charge nurse to check Elizabeth, whether she was agreeable or not. She muttered but let Deborah peer down her throat.

  Deborah frowned. “Have you been coughing?”

  “Not that I know of, and other than weary, a bit stiff and sore from all of this, I am as healthy as any of the rest of you.” She knew her tone was a bit sharp but was too weary to correct it.

  “Sorry, but doctor’s orders are that we all be checked daily since we are now in the danger zone.” Deborah shrugged. “As soon as Astrid wakes up, she wants us to decide who of the train’s ill can be moved out to the tent, just to be prepared for anyone coming down with it in Blessing. Oh, and we received a telephone call from a woman ready to birth her baby. I called Ingeborg and asked if she would go. I think she was delighted. Her comment? ‘Ah, new life. God is so good to remind us that both life and death are part of living in this world.’”

  “Leave it to Ingeborg. How I would rather be seeing a new baby born.” Elizabeth wagged her head.

  “Wouldn’t we all?”

  “How are the people of Blessing doing with all of this?”

  “Thorliff says tempers have settled. Reverend Solberg’s idea to set aside a section of the cemetery for the train people helped with that. Sophie settled down. I think Kaaren had a talk with her.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Knowing Kaaren, that was quite a talk.”

  Miriam entered with a steaming mug, paused for a moment, and joined them.

  Elizabeth looked at the young woman; like everyone else, she looked worn and weary. “Miriam, your family is all right?”

  Miriam nodded. “Being forced to stay away from the little ones is hard, but Este went fishing and caught some fish for the seals. He was so happy. You cannot go fishing in a Chicago tenement. He loves Blessing. The three of them are working on the garden. Our mother was a garden lover, but the girls had never done that. It’s their first time, and Este is teaching them from what he learned at the hospital in Chicago.” Miriam fought back a yawn. “The coffee is not much help right now.”

  “Go to bed. I’ll wake you for the meeting.”

  “I’ll not argue.” Miriam put her coffee aside and flopped down on a bed.

  The rhythm continued through the night. Feed, clean, keep watch, steam, ice, cough syrup, hold the small children, sleep when one’s shift to do so came around, and pray, always pray. And always, at the back of Elizabeth’s mind, We should never ever have let them come.

  Astrid awoke much later than she normally did. As soon as she got up, they called a meeting, including Reverend Solberg, Miriam, Deborah, Elizabeth, Dr. Commons, and Thomas Devlin.

  She looked from helper to helper. “Let’s make this as quick as we can. How many beds do you have out in the tent?”

  “Well, the ones who came down first and lived through it are now recovering, so they can move back onto the train.” Devlin smiled. “Though frankly, other than fighting the mosquitoes, they vow they would rather be in the tent. I cannot blame them. Fresh air and a breeze. It’s quite stuffy in the circus cars. That would free up eight . . .” John looked at Devlin.

  Devlin corrected, “Nine.”

  Nine was a start. Astrid nodded. “The main thing now is to get good food into them, and let them rest and recover. How is it going regarding day-to-day operations?”

  “Miriam has them feeding each other,” John said, glancing at Miriam. “She’s a wonder, that woman. And Devlin’s plan of farming out the cows and goats was genius. It’s working perfectly. Except the camel. No one wants a camel, but someone finally took it in. Fortunately, camels can graze.”

  Devlin chimed in, “Manny has been such a help with the animals, along with two men who said they had had diphtheria. A big concern was cleaning the big cats’ cars. Not a job to be undertaken lightly, but they all learned how to do it safely. Something akin to Daniel in the lions’ den, but we suspect God did not see fit to shut the lions’ mouths. I trust ye’ve heard the roars.”

  “I have.”

  “There will be two more buried today,” Devlin added. “We lost the tightrope-walking woman during the night. Seemed to be doing well and then she was gone.”

  Miriam sighed. “I didn’t expect that either.”

  “So, then, who will we move out there?”

  “I have a list.” Deborah read the list of five. “Possibly three more, if we can keep treating them in the steam room.”

  Astrid bobbed her head. “Then we’ll move them after breakfast and get those beds cleaned, put the mattresses outside in the sun, and pray no one else develops symptoms. I know that would be a miracle, but we need one here. Is there anything else?”

  Dr. Commons said, “Nurse Deborah and I have the supplies order ready. Any further suggestions?”

  “Thank you, Dr. Commons, Deborah. I cannot begin to tell you all what a great job you are doing here. Reinforcements should arrive tomorrow, along with the supplies we already ordered. Including more of the antitoxin so we can start inoculating those outside of town. I’ll ask Thorliff to be in charge of notifying them. Any questions? Comments?” Astrid looked from face to face. “Then please pray, Reverend Solberg.”

  “Lord God, we thank you for all the lives you have protected, for the strength you have given this group of warriors, for keeping Blessing from strife. Thank you for healing those, and we commend the spirits of those gone on to be with you. We pray that you will change the hearts of those who do not believe in you, those who are angry. Fear does terrible things to us, which is probably why you say Fear not so often in your Word. Thank you that you answer our prayers, that your Spirit is right here with us. You have promised over and over that you will never leave us nor forsake us. We thank you and praise your mighty name. Give us continued wisdom, strength, and grace to serve you as we are called to do. Greater love has no man than this, that he love his neighbor as himself. We are trying our best to do just that. Amen.” The others echoed him. And to Astrid’s surprise, so did Dr. Commons.

  She smiled and nodded to him, getting an almost-nod in return. Good, he is willing to learn.

  As they all stood to go about their duties, Elizabeth drew Astrid aside. “You better check me again. I have a sore throat, no coughing yet, but let’s make sure.”

  Please, God, no! Astrid pointed to the examining room. Was the inoculation too late?

  CHAPTER 22

  Astrid could barely get the words out. “Mor, please pray and ask all the others to pray. Elizabeth has it.”

  “Oh, Astrid, she did not get the antitoxin in time? O Lord, help us!”

  “He better, because I am having trouble believing she will make it through this. She’s been near death too many times already.” She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the wall. Forcing the words between clenched teeth was nigh impossible. “I . . . I have to go before I fall into that pit you talk about.”

  “And Thorliff?”

  “I’ve not called him yet. I know he is going to demand to come in here.”

  “You could ask John to call him.”

  Astrid sniffed again, the heaviness almost worse than the darkness that prowled the corners and slithered like a thief along the floors. “How can I go on?”

  “Only God can handle all this, but He is over, under, and all around you, but more . . .” Ingeborg choked back her own tears. “He is within us, closer than breath, part of us, and He promised He will never leave. I’ll talk to John.”

  “He is sleeping right now. I won’t wake him. I will talk to Thorliff as soon as I get myself together again.” If I ever get myself together. Is there no end to this?

  “Ask Kaaren to come to be with you, please?” She waited for her mother to blow her nose again. “Please.”

  “I will. But I will also go to Thorliff.”

  “No! He has been exposed. Please, Mor, no matter how hard that is, please do not leave home. I have to know
you are safe. Please!” Who could she send to make sure Ingeborg remained at home? Take a chance and send Reverend Solberg? Miriam? Who? Mary Martha? Her mind fought to figure out who might be safe and who might have inadvertently been exposed. “Mor, promise me you will stay home!”

  “I . . . I can’t.”

  The click in her ear sounded like an anvil dropping.

  Astrid clicked the prong again. “Gerald, get me Kaaren . . . fast.”

  “I am.”

  The seconds stretched like hours. Lord God, make her answer the telephone.

  Gerald came back on the line. “I broke into a conversation—here she is.”

  “Astrid, what?”

  “Please run to Mor and keep her from coming to Thorliff. Elizabeth has diphtheria and Thorliff has been exposed.”

  “Ja, I will run.”

  The click in her ear said Kaaren was doing as she said. Call Freda? But if Mor answered . . . Pounding the wall would only hurt her hand, a hand clenched so tight the pain of nails in her palm jerked her back to the right now. Raising her arm to set the earpiece back in the hook made her tremble. She missed the hook.

  “Here, let me.” Deborah spoke softly as she took the black weight from Astrid’s hand and set it in place. “Come to your office. I will bring you a glass of water and a cup of coffee. We put Elizabeth in room one. Good thing we had that room ready.”

  “T-takk.” Lord, strength! Help me! I am the doctor here. Doctors are not supposed to disintegrate like this. “I need to go to Elizabeth.”

  “Not right now. She is sleeping.” She guided Astrid to her chair and waited until she sat down, then headed out the door.

  Hospital sounds dimmed as she reminded herself to breathe. O God, O God ran through her head, joined by Help me and please, anything to keep back the evil. She drank the glass of water that Deborah handed her and set the glass on the desk. Focus on one thing at a time.