The Lincoln Penny

by Barbara Best

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  She likes her from the start. Maybe it’s because she makes Jane think of her friend Sophie in a way. Susan is around Sophie’s age, though she is much smaller in stature. Her hair is an ash blonde. Her eyes are hazel, and sort of almond shaped. Attractive, but definitely not the Hopkins’ trademark eyes. Dim and non-blinking with fear, those eyes are fixed on Jane now. Jane feels sorry for Susan, especially in her condition. Susan has the noticeable fullness in her face and her breasts that press against the snug fitting fabric of her wrapper. The signs of pregnancy are tucked away and well camouflaged under her clothing.

  “Good morning. I’m Jane Peterson,” she offers as cheerfully as appropriate for the circumstances.

  “Yes, I believe I know that,” Susan’s eyes dart past Jane. “Where is mother?”

  “I’m so sorry. I kind of asked your mom to stay home. She sent me in her place,” Jane apologizes. “She is home safe with your sister until I can sort this out. She said your boys have measles?” Jane hopes she is doing an okay job with this, “If it is measles, then we need to think about Clara. It spreads pretty easily and your mom doesn’t even know if she’s had the disease, which means she could catch it too.” Keep going, “Did you know I took care of your brother at Fort Pulaski? I would love to help here in some way, if you’ll give me a chance.”

  Susan visibly relaxes, “No explanation is necessary, truly, Miss Peterson. Thank you for coming.” Her sweet voice is faintly raspy with worry and lack of sleep. “Ezra, will you take Miss Peterson’s shawl. The boys are this way.”

  Susan had been shown her brother’s letter describing Jane as an angel graciously devoted to his care. She held Matt’s judgment in high esteem. Everything happens for a reason. So it is by no mistakes or coincidences this tall woman, who has apparently been given her mother’s blessing and access to her sister’s wardrobe, now stands at her doorstep.

  They climb the stairs to the second floor. Jane can hear coughing before she even reaches the door off a long hall. She stops just outside the boys’ room.

  “What’s wrong?” Susan asks.

  “Susan? Mrs. . . . I’m sorry I don’t know your last name.”

  “Caldwell, but please, call me Susan.” When she last saw her sister, she was full of details about their unexpected houseguest. Clara had already told Susan that Jane preferred being more intimate with first names and that she used a lot of words that were unfamiliar to her. Susan was intrigued.

  “Susan. You’re pregnant, right?”

  “Well uh . . . I,” Susan sputters.

  “You are going to have a baby, right? It’s okay, your mother told me. Anyway, you need to know that it’s not a good thing for you to be around the boys. Measles is highly contagious. It’s a virus that we shouldn’t expose you and your baby to. Even if you already had the measles at some point, I wouldn’t want to risk it. Can you trust me to take care of the boys? And is there anyone in the house that would be willing to help me?”

  “There’s only Maple and Ezra.”

  Jane see’s the two hovering at the top of the stairs; nervously wringing their hands. No one looks like they have had any sleep.

  “Maple, I need you to keep Susan comfortable and away from the boys. It may be best if you both stayed away for now. Maybe you could take a room at the other side of the house. Susan, do you have any symptoms? Have you been coughing at all? Is your throat sore or anything?”

  “Why no I . . .”

  “That’s a good thing. When you get a chance I want you to check for a rash.” That’s all Jane really knows about measles. You break out in red spots all over. “Rashes can appear on your neck behind your ears or under your arms. In warm places, if you know what I mean.” Jane smiles and is certain she has embarrassed the girl. “Maple will help you check. And Maple, I want you to watch her carefully and let me know if anything comes up. Fever, cough, that sort of thing. Ezra, I have a few supplies downstairs on the front porch I’ll need you to bring up.”

  Jane looks at all three individually for greater effect and finally rests her gaze on the lady of the house, “Now, what I am about to tell you is very important and y’all need to take this to heart. I want you to give your hands a thorough soaping in warm water. As warm as you can stand it. And I want you to wash frequently. Be sure to get under your fingernails. Then, keep your hands away from your eyes, nose, and mouth as much as possible. Like your hands, other stuff like doorknobs, dishes, things the boys may have recently used or touched should be cleaned with soap and hot water. Alcohol is a good antiseptic so you may want to use that too where it makes sense. You could mix it with water, like half and half, and wipe things down. Hopefully, it will be potent enough to kill stuff. Before the day is over, I want everyone here to take a good bath.”

  Jane stops for a minute to give them time to process her instructions, “All these things I mentioned, your hands, doorknobs, clothes, all have something called germs on them. Germs are tiny organisms, animals. So tiny, hundreds of them can fit on the point of a needle. Some of these germs are bad for us. Measles is a type of germ, called a virus. It’s a bad germ that can make us sick. Germs are passed around from person-to-person through contact. You can also inhale germs into your lungs like, for instance, when your boys cough. When they cough or sneeze, it throws germs up into the air, and you breath it in. Now germs don’t live forever, but when they are fresh and alive, they are very potent and contagious. You can catch them. Do you get what I’m saying?”

  Susan, Maple and Ezra look at Jane uncomprehending and aghast. She wonders what they are thinking. God don’t let them think I’m a witch, a conjurer or something. They don’t burn people at the stake any more do they? It’s the same reaction she got when she was tending to Matthew at the fort. Maple and Ezra have moved closer together. Ezra’s mouth is moving like he’s silently chanting something.

  “I am sure this stuff is strange to you and I really don’t mean to scare you. These are just some things we know about where I come from. We try and protect ourselves from germs as much as possible. And a lot of the time it works. Would you be willing to try this for me?” Jane gives them an encouraging and slightly sympathetic smile.

  As alien as what they are hearing may seem to Susan, Maple and Ezra, all three quickly bob their heads up and down. They have no clue what Jane is talking about. In the 1800s people are still stuck in the dark ages when it comes to medicine. The entire breakthrough in science and advancements in medicine would come later. For now though, they are totally ignorant of simple hygiene and precautions, which are common knowledge in Jane’s time, even for kids. Make no mistake. These people have the same reasoning power as people in any other era to come. They are not obtuse by any means. In fact, Jane is amazed how easily they absorb the information and are convinced to go along.

  “Then, we’re together on this.” There’s more bobbing in agreement. This time more confident, making Jane warm with appreciation, “Good deal! Now, let’s all get to work.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Jane has Ezra help crack the windows to let some fresh air in and pull the heavy drapes to block the morning light. He takes Jane’s direction seriously and is very willing to help. The boys must be burning up. As sick as they look, she can’t believe someone would cover them from head to toe in blankets in a hot room. First thing, she has Ezra work on getting some of the logs in the fireplace to burn down. Jane makes sure the windows in other rooms nearby are opened to clear the air and cool the house.

  One of the boys is asleep. The other is staring at her curiously, his eyes glassed over. Jane crosses to stand by his bed, “Hi. I’m Jane. I’m here to try and make you better.” Jane hopes the boy believes that more than she does right this moment. “Your mother told me it would be okay. She wants me to help take care of you. What’s your name?”

  “David Caldwell, ma’am,” he says hoarsely.

  “Do you mind if I have a seat on the bed next to you David Caldwell?” Jane
smiles, and hopes to be as reassuring as possible.

  The boy looks over at Ezra and after getting a signal it’s okay, he nods.

  “Well then, lets have a look at you.” Jane searches David’s neck, his arms and legs under his nightshirt, explaining she is looking for a rash. Nothing. “Is your throat sore?”

  David nods his head, yes.

  “Let me see. Can you open up? Say ahhh . . .” She looks inside David’s mouth and is surprised to see a bunch of small white spots on an angry red background. Hmmm . . . might be measles. “Wow! Bet that hurts.”

  The little boy nods again and coughs pitifully, wiping his runny nose on his sleeve. More coughing comes from the other bed.

  “I’m so sorry you and your brother are sick like this. It was your grandmother who sent me. I am a guest at her house. You may know about me already. My name is Miss Peterson, but you can call me Jane if you want.” Jane smiles as David’s eyes confirm recognition. “Ezra and I are going to do everything we can to help you. Oh! And Clara said to tell you hello. She wants you to get better soon so she can come to visit.”

  The boy brightens at the mention of his young aunt.

  “Ezra, would you please help me get some of these blankets off the bed. We don’t want the boys to get chilled. But they shouldn’t be overheated either. Is there honey and lemon here or in the supplies I brought? It will help with the cough. And do you have a tub for bathing in the house? We’ll need it brought up. That, and maybe we can keep a large pot of water boiling on the hot embers in the fireplace. The steam from it will help keep the air in the room moist and David and Edward more comfortable.” Jane’s mom had always used a vaporizer when she was really sick.

  Jane takes a clean soft cotton rag and wets it to wipe the crust out of David’s eyes. “Feel better? You’ll need to drink plenty of water, now. Even if you aren’t thirsty all the time.” Being so hot, she worries he is dehydrated.

  Now on to the next kid.

  Jane gently pulls the blankets off the other boy who is sleeping fitfully. His breathing is shallow and rapid. Edward seems even hotter to the touch than David. Scary. There’s no thermometer to tell how dangerously high his fever really is. Could be 103, even 105! Jane puts her hand on the boy’s chest. His little heart is beating a mile a minute. Edward finally cracks open one watery bloodshot eye at her touch, but drifts off again. Jane smiles. He’s such a cutie and so sick right now. She brushes his damp brown hair away from his face and spots a blotchy red rash around his hairline. Well, that’s it then.

  “Ezra. Do you or Maple know anything about measles?”

  “No-um, I don’t. But I can ask Maple.”

  “Please. I am open to any suggestions. Where I come from, measles is almost unheard of. Maybe there are some home remedies you know about. One thing’s for sure both of these boys need fluids. And we need ideas, so please feel free.”

  Shoulders hunched, Ezra takes a wary glance around him as if he believes Jane must be talking to someone else.

  “Look, it’s open communication here,” Jane softly encourages. “Anything you can do, Ezra, anything we can do together, will be extremely helpful. I don’t claim to know everything. Not even close,” she grins and shrugs her shoulders. “What do you have in the house for them to drink? Let’s start with that. We want clear liquids, no dairy. Their throats are major sore and it will help keep them hydrated.”

  The boys will need something nourishing too, even if they don’t have an appetite. “How about broth or juice? Squeezed or pressed anything, maybe even vegetable juice. That would work.”

  Miss Jane is very strange, yet Ezra thinks smart as a whip. He likes the way this young woman talks to him, almost like they are equal. He is ready to do anything she tells him to do, but he is having trouble understanding some of what she is saying. “What’s dat word, hy-da-yate, Miss Jane?” he cautiously ventures.

  “Hydrate and dehydrate. I’m sorry Ezra. Let me explain. When a body runs a fever and the body temperature is higher than normal, it starts to dry up important fluids. This is called dehydration and something we should be worried about. You see bodies are mostly made up of water. And when the water is lost, we need to replace it. We need to hydrate the body. With a fever, it’s kind of like heating a pot of water to boiling and watching the water slowly disappear into steam. With heat, the water evaporates. You need to keep adding more water or it will simply burn away. The pot will eventually become empty. And that’s not a good thing for a body. So, the boys need to drink plenty of water. Plus other things made into liquid so they have the strength to get better.”

  Buckets of water have been brought in and a tub has been filled. “Ezra, will you help me get Edward into that tub?” Jane wonders how she is going to tell Edward and David apart; they’re so identical? Well, as long as she keeps them separated and in their beds, she should be okay. David on the left and Edward on the right. “Please, put him in real easy. The water’s cool.”

  Ezra lifts the limp boy, carefully, whispering something into his ear. He loves the child.

  Jane is touched by Ezra’s gentleness. “Put him in the tub, nightshirt and all.” Jane dampens a soft rag and wipes the boy’s face and she gets Ezra to slowly wash him down, wetting his hair and wringing the towel over Edward’s shoulders.

  The boy tries to lift his head. “Edward, you are going to be all right, sweetie. We are just trying to cool you down some. You are hot with fever and this will make you feel better. I promise.” Jane can remember her mom doing this when she was little and had a high fever. She doesn’t remember if it worked, but she knows she felt better afterwards. The boy moans and coughs pathetically, but after a few minutes seems a little more alert. That’s a good sign.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  There is a small adjoining room, right next to the room where the boys are now resting more comfortably. A bed has been prepared for Jane to get some shut-eye when she can. It is freshly made with nice smelling linens that have dried all day in the warm Georgia sun. There is a fragrant magnolia blossom, freshly cut and placed in a pretty hand-painted vase on the small walnut table next to the bed. The pleasant scent hangs in the air and has a calming effect. Familiar.

  Pastoral scene of the gallant south,

  The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,

  Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,

  Then the smell of burning flesh.

  It’s a perverted blend of extremes, peaceful and grim, all woven into one intense rhyming couplet. Funny the things you remember. Jane had stumbled onto this poem when she was doing a research paper in college about the history of racism in the South and some of the words stuck.

  A small oil lamp flickers beside a book placed on a delicately crocheted doily. The Coquette. A novel she pulled from the Hopkins’ library to read. Hanging from a hook on the back of the door is a dress Jane recognizes from her borrowed wardrobe. Neatly folded on a chair beside the door is one of her nightgowns and a pressed white apron with tucks at the bottom and a sash to tie at her waist. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to bring these things here for her. A bowl and pitcher with fresh water are set out for Jane with a small bar of soap. They are too nice!

  Jane sits on the edge of the bed, where one corner of the blanket is invitingly turned down into a neat triangle. Hearing the loud chorus of crickets, she peers out the window onto what would be a neatly trimmed lawn and iron gate that borders the street below. Everything is draped in monochromatic shades of charcoal gray under massive oaks that cradle the house. She catches the tiny glow from fireflies in her peripheral vision and hears the flutter of moths that dance on the windowsill. They are drawn to the light from her lamp. Eek! No screen. It still gives her the willies.

  It’s dark outside, about as dark as Jane’s thoughts. There’s no TV to veg-out in front of or earbuds to pop in to listen to her favorite iTunes. All the things that keep you occupied and away from your thoughts.

  Quiet, uneventful days and long, drawn out nights tha
t last an eternity. Jane knows she is overtired and overwhelmed. She has never had this much responsibility in her whole life, which makes her more susceptible to her demons. The annoying voices that squawk in protest, demanding to know why she is in this predicament and completely out of her element. She misses home, her family and friends. There are people all around her, but she’s so alone.

  Jane pulls the penny out of the miniature silver mesh purse that she added to one of the hooks on her chatelaine. Mrs. Hopkins, who has been way generous, insisted on giving it to her. She turns the coin over and over between her fingers, scouring the details and the date. 2012. 2012. 2012. Jane has made it a habit of privately performing this mini-ritual whenever she has that hopeless longing for the comforts of home. Every now and then she gets greedy, thinking why in the heck didn’t she stuff her droid into her dress pocket. She carries it everywhere. It was decided on the advice of other reenactors that Jane would leave it in her car. They said things like that diminished the ambiance of the experience. Well, how long would a phone have lasted anyway, with no bars and no electricity to charge it? Better leave well enough alone. At least she has something, no matter how small or insignificant, to remind her she’s not crazy.

  Come on now Jane, she chides. Stop feeling sorry. Jane reminds herself for the umpteenth time, she has complete strangers who have amazingly taken her in without expectations. They don’t know a thing about her. She has no money, yet everything, food, clothing, all the comforts, have been provided on a silver platter.

  Jane listens for any sounds from the boys in the other room. Ezra has begun a slow melody. His dulcet voice embraces the air around them in a gentle lullaby . . . De river run wide, de river run deep, O, bye-o, sweet li’l baby . . . Dad boat rock slow, she’ll rock you to sleep, O, bye-o, sweet li’l baby . . . David and Ezra’s coughing has subsided. They have had a good day. That deserves a pat on the back, Jane. I’ve done some good here.