The Edge of Nowhere

by C. H. Armstrong

  I took a seat at the table and waved for Mother Elizabeth to sit. “I went to see Dr. Heusman. I have a problem, and I don’t know how to deal with it yet.”

  Mother Elizabeth’s eyes clouded with worry. “What’s happened?”

  “That nanny goat that bit Ethan yesterday? Jasper Hudson said it died. They think it was rabid.”

  Mother Elizabeth gasped. “Oh no! Victoria—what are we goin’ to do? Rabies is …”

  I nodded. “Dr. Heusman says he can’t do anything here. I’ll have to take Ethan to Oklahoma City. He’s gonna recommend us to a hospital that treats poor people. We’ll have to stay up there, maybe a month or longer. Dr. Heusman thinks his wife’s sister might give us a room, but I gotta come up with money to get there, then food and anything else we need while we’re there. And I’d need you to stay with the other children. I can only take Ethan.”

  Mother Elizabeth didn’t respond immediately. She just sat across from me, her eyes wide with shock. “Of course, ya gotta take him,” she said slowly. “The other children can stay here with me. I still have some money left over that Caleb was saving. You can use that.”

  “How much is there?”

  “I’d have to look, but I’d guess enough to eat on for a few weeks or a month, if ya eat carefully.”

  “What would you and the children do for food, what with me not workin’ durin’ that time?”

  “I’ll take over the housekeepin’ at the Delaneys’. Then Gracie and I will keep takin’ in the extra laundry. We’ll get Jack to help us. There’s no reason that boy can’t learn to iron properly.”

  “That’d work.” I nodded. “I still need to come up with bus tickets and a little extra money in case I need to pay for anything else.” I had no idea where I’d get it.

  Mother Elizabeth reached for my hands. “You’re not gonna like this, but hear me out.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “What?”

  “Have ya thought about askin’ the Delaneys for a loan? They’re probably the only people in town who could loan it without it hurtin’ ’em.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t.”

  “Think about it. They adore your children. If they knew about Ethan, they might be willing to help. In fact, I think they’d be horrified if they knew you needed it and refused to ask.”

  “But that’s charity. I don’t take charity.”

  “You’re willin’ to use a charity hospital, and allow a stranger to put ya up. This is your boy’s life we’re talkin’ about. I understand your pride, but ya have to put it aside right now for Ethan.”

  Mother Elizabeth was right. In a battle between my pride and the lives of my children, I’d always choose my children. I hated the idea of asking for charity—loan or not—but I didn’t have a choice. The Delaneys not only had the money, but they had big hearts.

  I blew out a breath, my shoulders falling in defeat. “Fine. I’ll ask.”

  “Good girl,” Mother Elizabeth said.

  I crawled into bed that night, my head swimming with plans for how to proceed. I would not let my boy die like his daddy. Not this one—the only one who looked like Will.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  THE NEXT TWO DAYS WERE HECTIC. AFTER cleaning for the Delaney sisters that following day, I swallowed my pride and asked for a loan. Their generosity was humbling. Neither paused a heartbeat, and offered me what I needed and more. I nearly cried with relief, and promised I’d repay every dime and then some.

  Dr. Heusman made arrangements with the hospital for Ethan, and his sister-in-law opened her home, at no cost, but with the understanding we’d cause her no financial hardship. She had the extra room, but she could afford nothing more. We’d leave for the city on Tuesday, September 23rd, and Ethan’s first appointment was that next day.

  The wait left me anxious. We didn’t know how long Ethan had before his condition was irreversible, so each moment we waited left me jittery.

  I purchased bus tickets, packed our meager belongings, and we were on our way to Oklahoma City. As agreed, Mother Elizabeth stayed behind with the other children. It had been three days since Ethan was bitten, and very little had changed. Though the wound was healing nicely, Ethan’s pain continued and, in fact, seemed worse. By the time we left, he cried constantly that he could “feel” the noise throughout his entire body. Just the day before, Jack had been bouncing a ball up against the house, and Ethan had cried for a full hour after I finally made Jack stop. He swore he felt each sound, like an electric shock through his body, every time the ball ricocheted off the house. We needed to get him treatment, and we needed to get it done soon.

  We arrived in the city in late afternoon, and walked the five blocks from the station to the home of Mrs. Verlie Watkins. By this time, Ethan was in no shape to walk on his own, so I carried him the entire way. By the time we arrived, the muscles in my arms and back burned.

  Mrs. Watkins was a small woman in her fifties with long, white hair pulled back into a low chignon. When we arrived on her doorstep, she welcomed us like old friends.

  “Come in!” Immediately, her eyes landed on Ethan and compassion washed over her. “Oh that poor baby! Let’s take him straight back to the bedroom so he can rest.”

  Leading us to the spare bedroom, Mrs. Watkins talked non-stop, and it was difficult to keep up with her. “It’s just so lovely to meet you, Mrs. Harrison. My sister has told me so much about you and that poor baby. You just make yourself at home, and don’t you worry about a thing! They’re gonna take good care of him here, I just know it.”

  Thank you.” I set Ethan on the bed she’d prepared for us. “I can’t thank you enough for allowin’ us to stay with ya. I’m just so embarrassed to intrude on your hospitality.”

  Mrs. Watkins waved a hand in dismissal. “Not at all! I feel like I know ya already. Your mama was my dear friend when I was newly married.”

  “You knew my mama?” My eyes widened. “In that case, ya must call me Victoria.”

  “Victoria, then.” She smiled. “And, yes. I remember when your mama first moved to town after marryin’ your daddy. She was a beautiful woman, and she was head over heels in love. We didn’t know each other long, but we were fast friends.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “Well, I imagine you wouldn’t. This was several years before you were born, and my husband and I moved here not long after we married. But yes, I knew your mama long before you were born, and I remember the many hopes and dreams she had for her children.”

  “Thank you for telling me that,” I replied.

  With Ethan now settled in bed, I snugged the blankets around him and followed Mrs. Watkins back out into the front room. There we talked long into the night as she regaled me with stories of my mother and father. Sitting there with her, I felt my parents close to me. Her stories brought to life the young people they had been, reminding me of the love they’d shared. That night, I went to bed nervous about what the days would bring, yet content for the first time in ages.

  WEDNESDAY MORNING, I woke early and well-rested. Glancing at the clock, I realized it was the longest stretch of sleep I’d had in months. I must’ve slept a full six or seven hours.

  Rising from bed, careful not to disturb Ethan who’d slept beside me all night, I dressed quietly and eased the bedroom door open. As I stepped into the hall, I was assaulted by the distinct fragrance of bacon frying. My shoulders slumped. In all the excitement of the day before, I’d forgotten to buy groceries for breakfast! I wondered if I’d have time to run out for a few items before Ethan awakened.

  “Good mornin’,” I greeted Mrs. Watkins as I entered the kitchen.

  “Mornin’, Victoria.” She smiled brightly. “Breakfast is almost ready, if you’d like some.”

  I shook my head. “Oh, I couldn’t. But thank you. I promised I wouldn’t be a financial burden. I was hopin’ I might have time to run out and get a few things while Ethan’s still sleepin’.”

  “Nonsense!” She waved a hand in dismissal. “I don
’t have much, but I can share. Y’all two eat this morning, then stop by the grocer later this afternoon and I’ll let you make my breakfast tomorrow.”

  I nodded. “Thank you. If you’re sure, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

  “I am sure,” she declared. “Now sit. Breakfast is ready.”

  We ate in comfortable silence, then I awoke Ethan to feed him and prepare him for his appointment. He ate very little, and cried out at every sound or the slightest movement. His discomfort left me feeling helpless; but, until the doctor saw him later that morning, there was nothing for it.

  A short while later, I carried Ethan the seven blocks to the doctor’s office. It wasn’t a long walk, but the distance felt like miles with Ethan in my arms. I could only be thankful it wasn’t Jack or Grace, as there was no way I could’ve carried either of the older children the distance necessary. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but we had to make do. I didn’t have a car, and—so long as I was able—I was determined not to use the extra money I’d brought along for emergencies.

  Once arriving at the hospital, we waited nearly an hour for the doctor to see Ethan. As time passed, my patience became shorter and shorter, and Ethan’s constant whining wasn’t helping. Just when I was ready to insist upon seeing any doctor, we were taken back to meet our designated physician.

  Dr. Dale Greene was a huge man and nothing I’d expected. Taller than Will had been, he must’ve measured a full six feet six inches. He had wavy brown hair, brown eyes, straight teeth, and a deep cleft in the center of his chin. He was barrel-chested and strong, his image completely incongruent with what I had expected of a doctor.

  “Mrs. Harrison?” he asked in greeting.

  I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m Dr. Greene. This must be Ethan?”

  Ethan nodded, his eyes huge as he took in the doctor’s large stature.

  Dr. Green turned his full attention to Ethan. “I hear you got bit by a nanny goat?”

  Ethan nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, let’s take a look at this bite.” Helping Ethan remove his shirt, he studied the marks on his shoulder. “Hmm. Doesn’t look like she ate much. You must not taste very good.”

  Ethan giggled, the first semblance of laughter I’d heard from him in days.

  Dr. Greene gently replaced Ethan’s shirt, pulling his arms carefully through the armholes one at a time. “Okay, then. Can you tell me what happened, exactly?”

  Ethan’s eyes widened and he stared at me. Understanding his silent plea, I explained the events of that weekend and Ethan’s behavior since the bite.

  Dr. Greene listened attentively, making notes on his clipboard as I spoke, and asking questions when he needed clarification. When I finished, he took a seat in his chair and scratched the back of his neck as though trying to think through what he wanted to say. After a moment, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

  “So here’s what I think,” Dr. Greene said. “I spoke to Dr. Heusman this morning, and the results on the nanny goat were positive. She was infected, and may have passed that infection on to Ethan.”

  I knew this was coming, but I covered my mouth with my hand to keep from crying out. My eyes filled with tears, but I held them in. Tears wouldn’t help right now; Ethan needed my strength. Taking a deep breath, I moved my hands to my lap and clasped them together. “Okay, so what d’we need to do?”

  “For starters, we need to get Ethan started on the rabies vaccine. Based upon my cursory exam, and the information provided by you and Dr. Heusman, he’s already showing signs of infection so time is running out. I anticipated this might be the outcome, so we’ve already ordered the vaccine, but it’s coming from Kansas City and won’t be here until Friday.”

  “Friday?” I gasped. “That’s too long, isn’t it?”

  “I’m not sure. I hope not.”

  “You hope not?” I accused. “Why do you have to get it from Kansas City? Why don’t ya have it here already?”

  “We don’t see enough cases of rabies to keep the vaccine in stock, and it’s expensive. But I think we’ve caught it in time. The vaccine should be here by Friday morning. In the meantime, you need to take him home and make sure he gets plenty of rest. We’ll set up an appointment for Friday afternoon and begin the shots. He’ll need one daily for the next three weeks, so you’ll have a standing appointment every day at the same time until we’ve finished the protocol of injections.”

  “Every day?” How in the world was I going to carry Ethan the seven blocks every day? “But—can’t I just take it with me and give it to him at home?”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Harrison. The injections are … tricky.” His eyes moved to Ethan, gauging how closely he was listening. He lowered his voice. “I must warn you, it’s a very painful process. Excruciating, I’m told.”

  I swallowed hard. “How so?”

  Dr. Greene lowered his voice to a whisper. “The needle goes straight into the stomach. We’ll need to strap him down so he’s unable to move during the procedure. Do you have someone you can bring with you to help? It’s not an easy procedure to watch.”

  “No.” I shook my head “It’s just me.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t have him go through the process if I wasn’t certain rabies was a real threat. We could wait and see if more symptoms develop; but, the longer we wait, the more likely we’ll need to admit him, and the less likely we are to have success with the treatment. I don’t mean to scare you but, statistically speaking, the odds of recuperating are against him. I’m hoping we’ll be lucky and discover we’ve caught it in time, but we won’t know for sure until we’ve begun the injections.”

  “Where do ya do it?” I asked.

  “Right back here. We have a room for procedures requiring restraint. I think it would be the best place for him. He looks okay right now, but we’ll need to keep an eye on him. If his condition deteriorates, we’ll have no choice but to admit him. For now, let’s plan on you bringing him in each day.”

  “Thank you,” I said with relief.

  Dr. Greene and I talked for several moments longer, and then we were released to go home with an appointment for Friday afternoon at 3:00. Ethan’s treatments would begin then, and we hoped for a swift recovery. I wouldn’t allow myself to consider what would happen if he didn’t. I’d lost Sara and the baby with no name; I would not lose Ethan.

  FRIDAY TOOK FOREVER to arrive, but we were soon on our way to the hospital for the first of Ethan’s appointments. Like before, we were seated in a small waiting area until Dr. Greene was free to see us. Finally at 3:35, he greeted us and we were escorted to a small room with a chair inside resembling one used by today’s dentists. I placed Ethan in the chair, and a nurse arrived to strap down his arms, legs and hips. When she was done, his eyes were wide with fear; but there were no gaps open for him to wiggle loose.

  Seeing my six-year-old boy strapped to that chair was almost more than I could endure. Though we had talked at length on Wednesday about this procedure and all it entailed, nothing prepared me for what I was about to see.

  Using a needle about six inches long, Dr. Greene inserted it directly into Ethan’s stomach, then slowly depressed the plunger. Ethan’s screams pierced the small room. Though he struggled against his binds, he could find no escape. His face turned a deep purple until the veins in his forehead were visible. For a moment, I was a coward and looked away before forcing myself to bring my attention back to the moment and my son’s distress.

  The injection seemed to last for hours, but it couldn’t have been longer than a minute. Ethan’s sobs ripped my heart down the center. I felt as though I’d violated a sacred trust with my son. I’d allowed strangers to strap him into a chair and torture him while I stood by and watched. Yet I had no choice. The alternative was certain death. The idea of doing this every day for the next three weeks overwhelmed me, and I swayed toward the chair beside me before falling into it.

  Squeezing my eyes shut t
ight, I breathed in a shallow breath. I tried for a deeper breath, but my throat seemed to close up and my oxygen was limited. My body shook, but I knew I had to pull myself together for Ethan.

  It took me a moment to realize the room was now quiet. My eyes shot to Ethan who lay statue-still with his eyes closed. I gasped, and tripped on my feet as I ran to his side. “Ethan!”

  “Shh,” the nurse squeezed my elbow gently. “He just wore himself out and lost consciousness trying to fight the restraints. He’ll come to in a few minutes.”

  Swallowing, I nodded and took a step away while the nurse unstrapped my son from the chair.

  Dr. Greene took my elbow and helped me find the seat I’d vacated. “I’m sorry that was so painful to watch, Mrs. Harrison. If you’ll tell me where you’ve parked, I can have someone help you out to the car with him.”

  “I haven’t,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. I cleared my throat. “That is to say, I didn’t bring a car. I don’t have one. We walked.”

  “You walked?” Dr. Greene lifted an eyebrow. “How far?”

  “Seven blocks.”

  “Well, he can’t walk seven blocks home, Mrs. Harrison.”

  “I know that,” I snapped back. “I carried him.”

  “The entire seven blocks?”

  “Yes, Dr. Greene.” I gritted my teeth to keep from yelling. “The entire seven blocks. I didn’t know it was going to be this bad, and I didn’t have any other choice.”

  Dr. Greene thought on my words for a long moment then replied. “I’ll take you home. Are you able to get transportation to and from the appointments after today?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I don’t have the money, and I don’t have anyone I can borrow a car from. I can take a bus for the short term, but even that money will run out if we’re ridin’ here and back twice a day. Will Ethan be able to make the walk in a week or two once the injections start workin’?”

  “No. Even once he’s finished the injections, he’ll still be too weak for that kind of walk for a while. What if you only had to ride the bus one way? Could you afford the bus ride just one direction?”