Father Caleb’s death reduced our income significantly, forcing us to rely on only those four dollars I received each week from cleaning the Misses Delaneys’ home. Though Father Caleb had saved well and had stashed away some money for emergencies, I avoided using it. We might have a bigger emergency. Once again I turned to laundering others’ clothing. Grace and Mother Elizabeth were a huge help with this piece, but they could only do so much between Mother Elizabeth’s grief and Grace’s inexperience. At night, when everyone was fast asleep, I picked up the pieces they’d left behind. Some days I existed on only two hours of sleep. I seldom got more than four. I reminded myself that there must be better days ahead, so I held onto that hope with everything I had.
The harder I worked, the angrier and more short-tempered I became. Eventually, even the children avoided me when they could. It was just was well. I was in no mood for conversation. I was living minute by minute, and day by day.
The months following Black Sunday were filled with more of the same poverty and dirt we had come to know. I longed for the days when the grass grew green and lush. I fervently wished for the miles of those gorgeous stalks of golden wheat dancing in the wind. So many people were losing hope, but I held on with everything I had.
September 20, 1935 arrived, and I celebrated my thirtieth birthday. I use the word “celebrated” very loosely. There was no celebration, and no money for a celebration if we’d desired one. The day passed like any other. It had been months since I’d enjoyed more than a few hours of sleep at night, and I was feeling old and haggard.
The next day I spent the entire day cooking and cleaning for the Delaney sisters. It was early evening when I returned home, and I was looking forward to a hot bath before I began the household chores requiring my attention.
“Hey,” I said to Mother Elizabeth as I walked into kitchen.
Her back to me, Mother Elizabeth placed the dish she’d been rinsing in the dry rack and turned to me, her hands going for her ever-present apron tied around her waist to dry them. Facing me now, her smile of welcome turned to a frown of worry. “You look tired.”
“Yeah. Long day,” I said, setting a sad head of cabbage on the kitchen table, a gift from the Misses Delaneys’ garden. “Where are the kids?”
Mother Elizabeth picked up the cabbage and examined it, then set it back down before sitting down herself. “Sit down, Victoria, before ya drop.”
I did as instructed, grateful to be off my feet.
“Grace is down at Joanna’s house,” Mother Elizabeth said. “Jack’s workin’ at Mrs. Nelson’s, doin’ some odd jobs for her—I expect him home pretty soon, I’d imagine. And Ethan’s not feelin’ well, so I put him in bed early.”
I massaged the bridge of my nose. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothin’, probably. He was playin’ at the Hudsons’ house with their boys and got bit by their nanny goat. I looked at the bite, and it looks fine. Broke the skin a little, and I suspect he’ll have a bruise, but I cleaned it up and he should be fine.”
“Then why is he sick?”
“Ah, it’s nothin’. He wouldn’t stop complainin’ about the bite and how much it hurt, so I sent him to bed. He’ll be better in the mornin’.”
I nodded. “And David?”
“Down for the night.”
“Already? It’s still early.”
“He’s been cranky all day, and has a bit of a cough. I put him to bed early, hopin’ he’d sleep off whatever he’s comin’ down with.”
“Thank you.” I sat at the table trying to find the energy to move.
“Ya hungry?” she asked.
“Yeah. What is there?”
“I made a pot of beans from that bag we bought the other day. No meat, but it’s not too bad. Should I get ya a bowl?”
“Thank you, yes.” I laid my head in my folded arms on the table. I was so tired, but still had so much to do.
“What time did ya say Gracie’d be home? I could use her help with the laundry.”
“Soon.” She set a bowl in front of me and glanced at the clock on the wall behind me. “In the next half hour, I’d imagine.”
I took a bite of beans. Chewing slowly, it took everything in me to swallow and not spit them out. I hated beans. I hated the look of them, the smell of them, the texture of them in my mouth—everything. And, with no meat, there was nothing to distract from the flavor of straight beans. But I ate them because I was hungry. They were cheap and, as bad as we had it, I knew it could be worse. It had been worse. So I ate every bite of those beans without complaint.
Finishing the last bite, I stood to take my bowl to the sink. “Let me get this bowl washed, and then I’ll look in on Ethan before I get started on the ironing. Did you and Gracie finish the wash?
“All but one load.” Mother Elizabeth took the bowl from my hands. “I’ll get this. You go check on Ethan, and just worry about the ironin’. Gracie and I’ll finish the laundry in the mornin’. The last load should be just about dry.”
“Thank you.”
Leaving the bowl with Mother Elizabeth, I headed toward the children’s bedroom. There I found Ethan, lying under the covers with only the top of his head peeking out from underneath. I watched him for a moment, admiring the little tufts of his golden blond hair. The rhythm of his breathing told me he was still awake.
“How’re ya feelin’?” I asked, ruffling his hair.
“Not good.” He frowned, his bottom lip pushed out in a pout.
“I heard ya got bit by the Hudsons’ nanny goat? What happened?”
“I was just sittin’ on Donny Hudson’s bike, and it came up behind me and bit me on the shoulder. I didn’t do nothin’, I swear! It just bit me outta nowhere!”
“Gramma says it still hurts?”
Ethan nodded. “Every time I move.”
Taking a seat on the edge of his bed, I pulled the blanket back. “Lemme take a look.”
“Owie!” Ethan cried as I carefully rolled him toward his stomach.
“I’m sorry, baby. I need you to lie on your stomach so I can see better.” I lifted the back of his shirt and studied the bite, but it looked unremarkable. A black bruise was forming around the perimeter, but Mother Elizabeth had cleaned it well and it didn’t look too serious. He would heal.
“That’s quite a bite,” I said. “But you’re a tough boy. You’ll heal.”
“But it hurts really bad,” Ethan said, his throat clogged with tears.
“I imagine it does. That’ll teach ya to stay away from that nanny goat.”
“I hate that nanny goat,” he pouted. “I didn’t do nothin’ to her! And now I hurt every time I move.”
“Then don’t move.” I smiled.
Ethan gave me a small smile, acknowledging my joke.
“You just rest,” I said, tucking blankets around him. “Get some sleep, and I bet you’ll feel better in the mornin’.”
“I’ll try.”
“G’night, baby. See ya in the mornin’.”
“Love you, Mama.”
“Me too,” I replied, closing the bedroom door behind me as I left the room.
THE NEXT MORNING came far too early, and I was still exhausted from the day before. I’d been up until nearly 4:00 a.m. finishing the ironing from the previous day. It was now Sunday, and I’d planned to take the children to church with Mother Elizabeth, but Ethan’s shoulder still hurt where he’d been bitten. I checked it periodically throughout the night, but it seemed fine. The bite was healing normally, though the area surrounding it was now fully bruised. Mother Elizabeth took the children to church without me, and I stayed behind with Ethan and started the day’s laundry.
By mid-afternoon, Ethan was no better. He whined constantly about the pain, but he had no other symptoms, aside from pain at the location of the bite. I was losing my patience with his chronic whining.
Dinnertime came, but Ethan didn’t feel like coming to the table, so I brought his dinner to him on a tray.
“Knock-
knock,” I said, entering the bedroom. “I brought you some cabbage soup.”
Ethan attempted a smile. “I’m not hungry.”
“Not hungry?” I lifted a surprised eyebrow. “How can you not be hungry? You’re always hungry.”
He shrugged then winced at the movement.
Setting the tray on a nearby table, I took a seat next to him on the bed and smoothed my palm over his forehead. “You’re a little warm. Why don’t ya sit up and try some soup. It’ll make ya feel better.”
Ethan shook his head. “I don’t wanna. I’m not hungry, and it hurts too much to move.”
Where the bite hadn’t concerned me, Ethan’s lack of appetite did. I’d hoped sleep was the answer, but he wasn’t improving. If anything, he seemed worse. I sighed, knowing I’d have to take him to Dr. Heusman. I didn’t have money to spare, but I’d find it somewhere.
Tomorrow morning, I thought. If he’s still not better tomorrow morning, I’ll take him to Dr. Heusman.
“Okay, then,” I told Ethan. “You’re missin’ out. I’ll just leave the tray right here, and you let me know if you change your mind, okay?”
“Okay, Mama,” Ethan said, but his eyes were already closed and his voice was flat.
I left the room on quiet feet, hoping the extra sleep would do him good, and that whatever bug he’d caught would pass soon.
I WAS WASHING the dinner dishes, while Mother Elizabeth prepared the children for bed, when we received a visitor. Opening the front door, I found our neighbor, Jasper Hudson, standing on the front step.
“Jasper,” I said. “Come in. What can I do for ya?”
“Victoria.” Jasper entered and removed his hat. “I can’t stay but a minute. I have some news, and ya need to know it soon.”
“What’s wrong?” I waved toward the sofa. “Have a seat.”
Jasper took his time, his head low and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Tessa tells me your boy got bit by that nanny goat we have?”
“Yeah,” I said, sitting on the chair across from him. “Ethan. He came home yesterday with a nasty bite on his shoulder. Said she just bit him—swears he didn’t do anything to provoke her.”
“Victoria, you need to get him over to Doc Heusman.” Jasper’s eyes met mine. “That goat died this evenin’. Vet thinks she was rabid.”
My heart dropped. I sat there a moment, not understanding. I couldn’t even find the words to ask what I didn’t understand. My brain just stopped functioning.
“Victoria?” Jasper said. “Did ya hear what I said? Ya need to take your boy to see Doc Heusman. That goat probably had rabies. Hydrophobia.”
I stood, and the world swam in a wave of dizziness. Lending his arm for support, Jasper seated me back in the chair I’d just vacated. “Ya need to sit down. Ya look like you’re gonna pass out.”
I complied and tried to collect my thoughts. “Rabies?” I looked at Jasper for confirmation. “How is that even possible? It’s a goat, for Pete’s sake!”
Jasper shook his head, his hands distorting the shape of his hat in his distress. “I don’t know, but the vet’s pretty damned sure it was rabies. He’s got her right now, and is havin’ her tested. We won’t know for a few days but, when he heard your boy’d been bit, he sent me over here to let ya know. If it’s rabies, that boy’s gonna need a doctor right away.”
“Okay,” I said, still too stunned to stand. “Okay—thanks. Thank you.”
“Are ya okay?”
“Fine.” I nodded. “Yes.”
“Is your mama here?” Jasper’s eyes scanned the room. “I hate to leave ya like this.”
“She’s gettin’ the children ready for bed. I’ll be okay. Thanks for comin’.”
“We’re real sorry, Victoria. I don’t know what to say, except how sorry we are.”
“Thank you.” I nodded, but couldn’t meet his eyes. I was trying too hard to slow down the thoughts racing through my brain.
People die from rabies.
The thought ran through my head like a chant.
My Ethan is going to die.
Jasper saw himself out, and I remained on the sofa. Rabies! I couldn’t understand how that could happen. Still not thinking clearly, I stood and walked toward the front door. I needed Dr. Heusman. Money or not, I had no choice.
I DON’T REMEMBER leaving the house, or the short walk to Dr. Heusman’s. But, standing on his front porch, knocking like I had so many years before, left me with a sense of déjà vu. But, unlike that day so many years before, this time the front door opened and I found myself facing Mrs. Heusman.
“Victoria.” She smiled. “This is a surprise.”
“Mrs. Heusman.” I nodded. “I need to see Dr. Heusman. Is he in?”
If my abrupt greeting insulted her, she didn’t react. Instead she held the door open wide and motioned me to enter. “Of course. Come in. Have a seat, and I’ll go get him. He won’t be but a moment.”
“Thank you.” I sat in the closest chair.
Moments later, Dr. Heusman greeted me. “Victoria? Is everything okay?”
“No.” I stood and met him in the middle of the room. “Ethan—my boy. He got bit by a nanny goat yesterday over at the Hudsons’. Jasper came by to tell me the goat died. The vet thinks she was rabid.”
Dr. Heusman’s eyes widened. “I see. And Ethan? How is he?”
“I thought he was fine, but I’m not sure anymore. The bite was clean, and it looks like it’s healing normally. It broke the skin and left a nasty bruise, and there’s nothin’ ominous about it. But Ethan’s not been feelin’ well ever since. He’s says it hurts to move, so he’s been stayin’ in bed and hasn’t eaten much. I thought maybe he was milkin’ it for attention, but now I’m not so sure.”
“Did you clean the wound well?” he asked.
I nodded. “I think so. Mother Elizabeth took care of it.”
“This happened yesterday?”
“Yes. Early afternoon, I think.”
Dr. Heusman tapped his first finger on his top lip. “I’m sorry, Victoria. If it’s rabies—and I suspect it might be—there’s nothin’ I can do for him here. You’d have to take him to Oklahoma City, and it would be an expensive trip. And we’re not talkin’ about a quick trip, either. He’d need daily shots for about three weeks, all of which would have to be done at a hospital. They may even decide to hospitalize him. Frankly, I don’t think you can afford it and, even if you could—and if they could provide an antidote—his chances of survival aren’t great. By the time ya got the money together to get him there, it’d probably be too late.”
Rage rushed through me. Standing, I pulled myself to my full five feet eleven inches. Lifting my chin, I stared Dr. Heusman in the eye. “You can either help me or you can’t, Dr. Heusman. You decide. I won’t let my boy die. I don’t care how much it costs—I’ll find the money somewhere. But ya either help me or get the hell out of my way, and I’ll find someone who can. There is no alternative. We will get him treatment. If ya know where and how to get that treatment for him, ya better tell me now because I don’t have time to stand here while you mess around and waste time tellin’ me how much it costs, and how much time has already been lost.”
Dr. Heusman’s chest puffed out. “Be reasonable, Victoria. Like I said, you’d have to go to Oklahoma City and I’m not even sure they even have an antidote there.”
“Don’t tell me what can’t be done,” I shouted. “Tell me what I need to do to make it happen!”
“Fine.” He sighed. “I’ll make some calls. Like I said, you’ll have to go up to the city. It’s not likely they’ll have an antidote on hand, but you can pray they can get one and that it gets there on time. There’s a hospital up there that takes cases from the poor families. They’d probably take you. I’ll at least refer ya. But you’ll have to get up there and find a place to stay. You’ll be gone a few weeks. Maybe a month or more.”
“Oh God.” I sat on the sofa, trying to work through the money and logistics in my mind.
&nbs
p; “Maybe I can help.” Dr. Heusman’s voice softened. “My wife has a sister up there, and she might take ya in for a spell. I can’t make any promises, but her husband died a few years back. She’s livin’ alone and has extra room. The rest’d be up to you. You’d have to get there and come up with money for food and whatever expenses ya have. My wife’s sister—Verlie’s her name—she wouldn’t have the money to feed ya though. And ya can’t take all those kids of yours; there’s just no room. Just you and Ethan.”
I nodded. “Thank you. If you’ll talk to your sister-in-law and the hospital, I’ll talk to Mother Elizabeth about keepin’ the kids. And I’ll find the money to see us through while we’re there—somewhere. How long? A month, maybe?”
“At least that, I’d think. Surely not more than six weeks.”
“Okay, then.” I stood and walked toward the front door. “You take care of your end, and I’ll take care of mine. How much time do we have?”
“I don’t know—a couple of days, maybe, at most. The sooner we get this ball rollin’, the better for Ethan. Let’s plan for Tuesday. I hate to wait any longer than that.”
LIKE THE WALK to Dr. Heusman’s house, I don’t remember a single minute of the walk back home. My mind was too full of things I needed to get done. I calculated ways to come up with the money. I had no idea how much I’d need, or even where I’d find it, but I refused to allow that to deter me. I made a mental list.
1. Bus tickets to the city. I’d worry about return fare later.
2. Money for food, times one month.
3. How much, if anything, would the hospital charge us?
4. How much, if anything, would we need to pay Mrs. Heusman’s sister?
“Victoria? Where’d ya go?”
“Oh!” Startled out of my thoughts, I found myself standing in the kitchen of our home. I didn’t even remember opening the front door. “Mother Elizabeth! You startled me!”
“I can see that. You were lost in thought. What’s wrong?”
The Edge of Nowhere Page 22