The Plague Doctor

by E. Joan Sims

  “Speaking of Dr. McHenry, do you know why he might have gone out to the Hayes’ farm?”

  “Brittany Hayes was the young lady who was thrown by the horse.”

  “Is that how she lost her first baby?”

  “Really, I do protest you’re going through my files. Those are confidential and private. You have no business…”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I interrupted. “Look, Wallace, a man’s life and reputation is at stake. I’m sure that’s something you can understand. If you don’t, you’d better start thinking about it. Help us help him, and we’ll help you.”

  I was getting tired. That sounded stupid even to me.

  He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

  “Brittany did lose her stepfather’s baby when she fell from her horse,” he admitted. “I believed at the time, and still do, that she fell on purpose. She risked her life by taking matters into her own hands. I treated her sexually transmitted disease, but she refused to let me tell anyone about her pregnancy.”

  “She was a minor! How could you keep silent? Isn’t there some agency that helps children in trouble like that?”

  Wallace shook his head sadly. “Unfortunately, we don’t have any mechanism in place in Rowan Springs to handle problems like Brittany’s. Her stepfather had sole custody of her. He probably would have sued me if I had suggested he was abusing his daughter. She was too afraid to confront him, and I’m ashamed to admit, so was I.”

  Cassie had another pertinent question.

  “Is Mr. Hayes the father of Brittany’s baby—the one she is carrying now, I mean?”

  “I have no idea. She has become a rather hardened young woman. She refused to tell me who the father was. I guess she knew she couldn’t count on me. I’m afraid I’ve let down a lot more people than my wife.”

  “I guess you were wrong, Mom. We’re back at first base. After all this, we haven’t found out anything to help clear Ethan.”

  “I can tell you something.” Wallace braced his shoulders and attempted to simulate a stiff upper lip. “I cannot accept that Dr. McHenry murdered Hayes. I saw the man’s body when they brought him into the emergency room. There is no doubt in my mind that Hayes fell on his own gun. His death was an accident.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “Are you sure? breathed Cassie.

  “Quite sure! As a matter of fact, he was the inspiration for my own demise. I was coming here tonight to get rid of my little piggy bank, as you called it, and then I would have had an accident like the one he had.”

  “Why did they arrest Ethan if it was an accident?” asked Cassie.

  “The girl implicated him. She said he killed her stepfather. I hesitated to speak up. My, er, problem has made me pretty much a coward. I was sure the truth would come out sooner or later.”

  Cassie was furious. “How dare you! You let an innocent man go to jail. You’re a coward—a selfish, spineless, miserable coward!”

  She fled from the room. I considered running after her but I was so tired. Someone had to stay rational and calm. I elected me.

  “Okay, so you didn’t speak up for Ethan. Did anyone else examine Hayes—someone who might have come to the same conclusion you did?”

  “Maybe. Edgar Baxter rode in the ambulance with the girl and her father. I was at the hospital when they arrived, and Baxter went in the ER with the girl. I pronounced Hayes and sent him to the morgue.”

  He looked at me hopefully. “I haven’t signed the death certificate yet. At least I can make amends by making it an accidental death. Will that make your daughter happy?”

  I decided to take a wild shot at him. “Let’s make my mother happy. When did you start scamming Medicare and the private insurance companies?”

  He jumped to his feet and did a pretty good imitation of a six year-old having a temper tantrum.

  “Never! Never! I’ve done a lot of things, but not that!”

  “What about the sixty dollar food supplement and sex potion for senior citizens?”

  I was sure of my ground here and he knew it. He stopped his little dance and sat down.

  “Poppy, Poppy Hunnicutt. She tells patients that I want them to have BioCal. I have nothing to do with it. She takes the money in cash. I’ve never seen one dime of it.”

  This man’s moral sensibility astounded me, unless…

  “What’s she got on you Winston?”

  “Her, her brother,” he stammered. “The football player. He was in an accident. I passed him on my way home from the country club. I had a few drinks under my belt, but the boy was bleeding profusely, so I administered first aid at the scene. He seemed to be stable when I got in the ambulance. On the way to the hospital he went sour. He was dead before we arrived. His spleen was ruptured. There was massive internal bleeding. There was nothing I could have done, but Poppy smelled the liquor on my breath in the hospital parking lot. She said she would tell if things didn’t go her way from then on. I thought all she wanted was a little extra income from the nutritional supplement. I guess it’s gone farther than that.”

  He started crying again.

  I’d had enough. I went in search of my daughter and found her sitting outside on the steps.

  “We’d better skedaddle. The sun’s about to come up. We’ve still got to sneak back in the house, or at least, I do. You can come driving in later this morning whenever you…”

  Cassie turned towards me. I recognized the look on her face. I had seen it once before when she’d asked me if there really was a Santa Claus. I sat down next to her on the hard concrete and took her arm.

  “Yes, Virginia, there really is…”

  “Oh, Mom, don’t make fun. This is serious.”

  “Can’t ‘serious’ wait until we’ve had some sleep?”

  “You always told me the Mom Shop was open any time.”

  “You’re right,” I grumbled. “Shoot.”

  “That’s exactly what I’d like to do, shoot Dr. Wallace. How could he have made such a mess of things? For everybody! You were right to be disgusted. He is so self-indulgent that I want to smack him. And he uses love as an excuse for everything.”

  She watched intently as the sun began to edge up over the horizon.

  “It’s made me wonder if I really love Ethan as much as I thought I did.”

  “Oh, ho! That’s the problem.”

  “I like him, I really do. He’s funny and smart and dedicated. I admire him tremendously. And I have to admit that I love being adored by him. I feel like a goddess bestowing favors. It gives me a sense of power. According to you, that’s not what love is all about.”

  I was silent for a moment or two. My brain was fuzzy and thinking was almost physically painful.

  “Mother used to tell me that I would know when Mr. Right came along. That sounds like a fairy tale in this day and age. Everyone is so self-indulgent nowadays. Their credo is ‘if it feels good, do it.’ People are cohabiting at the drop of a hat with men, women, and barnyard animals.”

  “Mom!”

  “It’s true, darling, and you know it. But there are still some decent souls coming down the pike. I think your Ethan is one of them. He may be your Mr. Right, but he could also be just a tad early. There’s no shame in not being ready yet, Cassie. If he loves you enough he will wait. If he doesn’t, then you don’t need him in the first place. I’m glad you’re hesitating. I think you’re still too young. When you do tie the knot, you’ll be married a very long time. You can afford to start a little late. Besides, I’m not ready to be a grandma yet. And imagine what it would do to your grandmother to have to add a ‘great.’”

  Cassie chuckled. We both gave a simultaneous “Wow!” as the sun popped up over the tree line and another beautiful day was born.

  Cass turned and gave me a quick hug.

  “Thanks, Mom. You can take your shingle down now.”

  “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  I sent Cassie to retrieve Mother’s flashlight while I went to fe
tch our clothes. Winston was crying again. I slipped down the hallway like a ghost and was out the door before he knew it. If he wanted to say anything more to me it was too late. My name and number were in the phone book. Wallace had a quarter. He could call.

  Cass was already in the driver’s seat. She backed the Lincoln out of the delivery entrance and was waiting with the door open. I chucked our clothes in the back seat and off we went.

  “I’m exhausted, Mom. Do I have to wait until later to come home? Can’t I just come in now? We’re going to have to tell Gran where we’ve been sooner or later.”

  “You’re right. It might as well be sooner. Besides, I don’t think I’m quite up to climbing back in the house. And I need a bath. I must be allergic to the soap they washed these scrubs in.”

  Cass turned and sneaked a peek at me.

  “My goodness, Mom! Your face is all broken out! You look like you have the measles. What’s wrong with you?”

  I turned down the mirror flap on the visor and looked at my face. Sure enough, I had a major rash. My whole face was covered with little red bumps.

  “What in the world?”

  I was starting to itch like mad. The skin on my arms and hands was popping out in the same red rash.

  “This is just great! All I need is some kind of plague now that all the doctors in this town have gone strange.”

  As we pulled in the driveway I happened to glance over at the side of the hill where I had taken a tumble last night. In the early morning light it was easy to identify the soft, leafy undergrowth which had cushioned me from injury. On my bumpy way to the bottom I had rolled over and over in a thick, hearty patch of poison ivy.

  Cassie parked the car down behind the carriage house, and we retrieved our clothes from the heap in the back seat. I shook my head again over the ruin of my favorite outfit.

  “Damn! I really loved this pantsuit. Now look at it.”

  “Look at your birthday suit is more like it. You really need to do something about that rash.”

  “I know, I know.”

  We walked slowly back up to the house in the early morning sun. A hazy blanket of moisture hovered over the tall grass in the fields. Dew twinkled like diamonds in spider webs in the corners of the back porch eaves. It was a perfect day. I was sorry that I would spend most of it asleep in bed, but I was so tired I could hardly pick up my feet.

  “Mom, do you smell that?”

  I stopped and leaned against her shoulder as I took an experimental sniff.

  “Bacon?”

  “Yes! And coffee and…Wow, I’m starving!”

  She took off so quickly I almost fell down. I stumbled after her and made it to the porch door just as it slammed in my face. I had to stand there for a moment until I was able to summon the energy required to push it open.

  Cassie was already seated at the kitchen table with a knife in one hand and a fork in the other. Mother was spooning hot buttered grits onto her plate, which was already loaded with creamy scrambled eggs and crispy bacon. There was another plate on the table. It was at my accustomed place and held only a solitary bran muffin and a banana. I was going to be punished for sneaking out. I sighed and slid into my seat, forcing a smile.

  “Good morning, Mother. Thanks for the breakfast. We are very hungry.”

  “Well, my girl, you have some explaining…”

  She turned and got a good look at me.

  “My God! Paisley, what has happened to you?”

  Mother leaned over and gave me a closer inspection.

  “Poison ivy! Oh, you poor child!” She sat down hard in her chair, forgetting her anger. “Where in the world have you two been? I’ve been worried sick all night.”

  “I’m really sorry, Mother. I honestly thought you wouldn’t know that we were gone.”

  “I didn’t until Agatha started throwing up jelly beans all over the house.”

  “Aggie’s sick?”

  Cassie crammed the last piece of bacon in her mouth and jumped up from the table. She dumped her plate in the sink and ran water over the rest of her grits and eggs before I could stop her. My stomach gave a protesting grumble as I settled for a bite of bran muffin.

  “I’ll trade you the tale of our adventures for a decent breakfast.”

  “You’re a middle-aged woman, Paisley. You should be thinking about your health. The most I can offer you is a poached egg.”

  “Well, in that case, I think I’ll just go on to bed.”

  I pushed my chair back and started to get up.

  “Of course, since you are going to be very ill with that much poison ivy in your system I suppose it wouldn’t hurt—just this once.”

  “Two eggs, scrambled, and some of that lovely bacon. And please pass the butter. This muffin wouldn’t be half bad with some jam. Have you got any more?”

  An hour later I was full to the scuppers and sitting in a soothing oatmeal bath. When I fell asleep and almost slid under the water, Mother finally gave me permission to get out and pat myself dry. The rash was worse on my lower legs and feet than it was on my upper body, but my face was swollen, and my right eye was almost closed.

  “We’re going to have to take you to someone, Paisley. I guess you don’t want me to call Dr. Wallace after all the things you told me. I think there’s an allergy specialist in Morgantown. I’ll call and see if I can get you an appointment for this afternoon.”

  I looked at her pleadingly. I just wanted to sleep. The last thing I needed was another car trip.

  “Sorry, dear, but this is a really bad rash. I wouldn’t be surprised if you started to run a temperature.

  “Okay, whatever you say.”

  She pulled back the covers of the bed I had been yearning to climb in for so many hours.

  “Oh dear!”

  We stood there and stared at the big splotch of doggie vomit staining my lovely pink sheets. Little pieces of red, green, and blue jelly beans were a predominant ingredient in the mess.

  “Oh, Mother, it’s my fault. I gave them to her. I’ll clean this up.”

  “No, dear, you’re exhausted. You go curl up in my bed. I’ll wash your sheets later.”

  Bless her heart. I took her up on her offer and slept until three in the afternoon.

  The allergy specialist in Morgantown was very nice. His waiting room was full of snuffling, sneezing, and coughing patients, but he saw me right away. I was an emergency, he said, an allergic crisis. I did have a fever, and my head was swimming. He gave me a shot of something that brought me back down to earth. That’s when the itching started. I got another shot for the discomfort and some lovely cool lotion as well. I was out of the office in less than twenty minutes and slept all the way home.

  The next morning, Cassie tapped lightly on my door and brought me a poached egg and some tea and toast. The middle-aged woman’s breakfast. She sat with me while I ate.

  “This is the sixth day in jail for Ethan, Mom. And we still haven’t learned anything that will help him.”

  “That’s not really true, Cassie. We know that he is not the father of Brittany Hayes’s baby since she was pregnant before he came to town.”

  “Big wow,” she answered sourly. “That doesn’t prove he didn’t rape her.”

  “You forgot that Wallace told us he didn’t kill Hayes, either. When he signs the death certificate and declares it an accidental death, the murder charge will be dropped.”

  “Will that be the end of it?”

  “I don’t honestly know, Cassie.”

  “I wish I could just talk to him. It’s so unfair.”

  “I agree with you. But Ethan himself has some culpability in this. If he had gotten a lawyer or even accepted one appointed by the court, then maybe he would have been treated differently. This vow of silence is ridiculous. I’m sure his mother is wondering what’s going on. It’s been almost a week since she’s heard from him.”

  “Maybe we should send another e-mail.”

  I poured myself the last of the hot tea from
the little brown pot while I thought about it.

  “No, I am not manufacturing news,” I said decisively. “Ethan wants things his way, and we have no choice but to go along with it. And think about this situation very carefully, Cassie. Ethan is a maverick. Are you going to like being married to a guy who never follows the rules?”

  Wrong question at the wrong time. Her pretty face crumpled up like a used paper towel. She ran out of my room and slammed the door behind her before Aggie could follow. The puppy and I stared at the closed door for a full minute. Then Aggie started whining. I sighed and got out of my cozy little nest to release her.

  Now that I was up, there was no reason not to get dressed. I was pleased to note that the rash had receded on my hands and arms. My legs and feet were much better, too. I showered quickly and applied the last of the lotion to the last of the rash. My face was fairly clear of offending red spots. At least one doctor around here knew his business. I had to take my hat off to the allergist.

  Mother was in the kitchen making lunch. A very pretty pasta salad sat in a big bowl covered with plastic wrap. I started to peel off the wrap and sneak out a black olive but she stopped me.

  “Get your dirty paws off of that!”

  It wasn’t as bad as it sounded. We’ve all been saying that since Velvet was two.

  Instead of blowing out the candles she had stuck her entire face in her birthday cake and eaten it from the inside out. Grandpa Howard had hastened to rescue the cake and little blond blue-eyed Velvet had stopped him with that same pronouncement. He had sat down on the floor laughing. It was a story he never tired of telling. Velvet’s saying had become part of our family lore.

  “Mabel is a little under the weather. I thought I would help them out with some lunch.”

  “How about my lunch?”

  “You just ate breakfast, Paisley.”