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Jean Craig, Graduate Nurse

<h2 id="xii">12. An All Night Vigil</h2> Kit’s homecoming was almost obscured by a great tragedy which had struck the village of Elmhurst. Although May was not yet over, five cases of polio had been discovered in town, and people were becoming panicky. The four new cases had been sent to the county isolation ward in a nearby town, but young Timmy Lester stayed at the hospital. His case was much lighter than anyone suspected at first, and he didn’t need therapy which the staff couldn’t supply. When Kit arrived in Elmhurst, she discovered that all public places had been closed down. No movies were being shown. People were urged to stay away from restaurants and swimming pools. They were even discouraged from having large private parties or picnics. “It’s really too bad,” Doris confessed to Kit. “And a fine summer vacation you’re going to have in Elmhurst,” she added. “It’s a terrible break for you.” Kit smiled at her younger sister. “Never mind about me, Doris,” she said. “What about the rest of you?[123] You’ve been in school, too. It’s a shame to ruin your vacation.” Doris grinned and said, “I suppose you’ll think this is an awful funny thing to say, but I’m not altogether sorry we can’t gather in big groups.” “Whatever do you mean?” Kit cried. “Well,” Doris said, “I don’t know if Mother told you, but I’m supposed to try out for a scholarship to Timothy College. It’s a small music school in North Carolina. Well, anyhow, I was petrified about playing in front of a large group. But now because of the polio scare, there will be just two judges who’ll come right here to hear me play. And on our own piano, too. That makes a difference, you know.” Kit looked at Doris. “Mother did tell me,” she said. “I think it’s absolutely wonderful. But she said you weren’t so keen about going away.” Doris looked at her sister shyly. “I wouldn’t tell this to Mother,” she said, “but I want to win that scholarship more than anything else in the world. At first I was frightened at the thought of going away from home. But the idea of being among people who love music, and having music all around me all the time is the most beautiful idea in the whole world!” Kit hugged her sister. “You’ll win,” she cried confidently. “You’ve got to. No one in town even begins to play as well as you!” Doris smiled with embarrassment. “You’re nice to say that, Kit,” she said. “Jean said it, too. Of course[124] you’re all prejudiced, but it’s nice to hear, anyway.” The telephone rang, and Doris ran to answer it. Kit sat down on the window seat and looked out over the wooded patch which stood between the house and the river. Everything was soft and green. The spring rains had made the leaves and grass shine with healthy color. There was not even any dust from the dirt road which cut in front of the Craig farm. She shook her head sadly, as she thought about the families of Elmhurst, huddled together in fear of the dread disease, and she thought how wise they all were to cooperate so well in the attempt to fight it. Doris came back into the living room and sighed as she sat down. “That was Jean. She’s supposed to be off today, but she has to work. There is another case somewhere out in the country, and they’re short-handed at the hospital.” Suddenly Kit jumped up and went to the phone. She asked for Jean. “Look, Jean,” she cried, “isn’t there anything over there that a layman can do? At the switchboard or scrubbing floors or anything?” Jean hesitated. “I don’t know, Kit,” she answered. “I can ask Dr. Barsch.” “You haven’t been home in over a week,” Kit reminded her. “I’ll bet no one has. At least I could sit with a patient and holler for help if they needed a nurse so that someone could go to bed.” “That’s an idea,” Jean said. “Why don’t you come over?” [125] When Kit reached the clinic, Jean and Dr. Barsch were waiting for her on the second floor. “You wouldn’t think five cases of polio would make the difference,” Kit said to Jean. “I mean, keep you all so busy.” Dr. Barsch frowned. “If polio were all we were concerned with, it wouldn’t be quite so bad. It seems we’re having another epidemic, too.” “Virus pneumonia,” Jean added. “Three new ones today.” Kit stared at her. “But I thought you got pneumonia in the winter ... or spring, at the latest.” Dr. Barsch shook his head. “Not this brand. It can come any time.” Kit looked at the doctor. “Well, put me to work. Anything I’m capable of doing, just let me know.” The doctor smiled and patted her hand. “It takes misfortune to discover how fine people can be,” he said absently. Kit glanced down the hall. “Didn’t I just see Ethel go into that room? She was in uniform!” Jean sighed. “Ethel has been back all week. She and Ted just returned from their honeymoon when ... this happened. She hasn’t laid a rug or planted a flower at their new house. In fact, she hasn’t even been out there, herself, in a week.” She shook her head grimly. Then she grinned at Kit. “Well, I’d better get back to work. Give Kit something to do, Dr. Barsch. She has a strong back and a weak mind.” Dr. Barsch studied the face of his weary, red-eyed[126] nurse. “Why don’t you go to bed for a few hours? You’re just doing a routine check with me. I can get Miss Peckham to take your place. I sent her to bed for a few hours this afternoon, so she should be in better shape than you.” Jean nodded, gratefully. “I’m too tired to argue with you,” she said. “I know you’ll call me if you need me.” “And Miss Craig can go right to work down at the switchboard if she wants to. We usually have the office help go home at five, but because we couldn’t spare a nurse at night, they’ve been working night and day, too. You know how to work one?” Kit nodded. “If it isn’t too complicated,” she said. “Someone down there can show me.” Jean started off, but Kit caught her arm. “I have something for you which should pep you up,” Kit said, reaching in her pocket. “This came just as I was leaving the house.” She handed Jean a letter. Jean smiled gratefully and took it. “Thanks, Kit,” she whispered. She stopped to open the envelope and then leaned against the corridor wall to read Ralph’s note: <blockquote> My dearest Jeannie: I feel like a small boy who has finally come to his senses. After I made my report here in Ottawa about my European trip, I hunted up the forestry offices and signed a government contract to supply them with wood pulp. I was amused at their reaction. For they treated me as if finally I[127] had come to the realization of one of their greatest problems ... they were almost paternal. So I guess once again I am a Canadian in good standing because I’m prepared to help them in every way I can. I have to make a flying trip back to the ranch to round up help for the project. You know, I’ve never hired forestry help before, and it may take a little time to find the right men for the job. Then, believe me! I’m coming straight back to Elmhurst! Jeannie, my darling, I worry so about you! The epidemic in Elmhurst makes me almost panicky when I think of you in the midst of it. Please try to get all the rest you can. Keep your chin up. The summer may be bad for you now, but I’ll try to make it wonderful for you when I get back. Give my love to the family. I love you! All my love, Ralph </blockquote> Jean slipped the letter into the pocket of her apron and smiled. She felt stronger, less tired than before. Then impatience spread through her. Would the summer never end, she thought. She walked briskly down the hall. Sally Hancock met her near Timmy Lester’s small room. She smiled at Jean as if it were an effort to move the muscles in her face. “Why in the world doesn’t Dr. Barsch send you to bed, too?” Jean asked. “He did. A couple of hours ago. I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d pass out if my head hit a pillow, but I[128] was too worried,” Sally said. She nodded towards Timmy’s room. “Listen,” she said. “Someone else couldn’t sleep, either.” Jean heard low voices coming from Timmy’s room. “Is Ted in there with Timmy?” she asked. Sally shook her head. “Ted’s got too much sense. He’s dead to the world ... down in Dr. Barsch’s office on the sofa. No, that’s bright boy.” “Dr. Benson?” Jean asked. Sally nodded. “No one else can get near the boy. Or haven’t you heard?” “I’ve been tied up in the contagious ward all week,” Jean admitted. “Well, any time Timmy wants something, Dr. Benson does it for him. It’s queer. At least I don’t get it. And every free minute Benson has, he spends with the boy. Well, anyhow, it makes them both more agreeable. That little waif! He’s the worst juvenile delinquent I’ve ever seen!” Sally exclaimed. Jean smiled. “I think I understand,” she said softly. “And I’m sure Timmy isn’t a delinquent.” Sally shrugged and went off down the hall. Jean tiptoed over to Timmy’s door. She hesitated and then knocked. Dr. Benson opened the door and smiled at her. Lines of fatigue had drawn his mouth down at the corners, and his forehead was wrinkled into a frown. But his eyes twinkled. “Hello, there, beautiful,” he said cheerfully. “Come on in.” [129] Jean smiled at him gratefully. She remembered how many times she had resented his flip manner. But this was one night when she welcomed it. “I was just passing by,” she said. “I wondered if there was anything you two would like.” “Nothing except a two-inch steak and a quart of milk and maybe a good western movie,” Dr. Benson said. Jean laughed. “I can get you some milk,” she said. “If you would settle for—” “Nothing doing!” Dr. Benson cried. “The whole works, or nothing at all!” Timmy propped himself up on his elbow. “Yeah, ’n’ I’m gettin’ outta here, too,” he said, almost belligerently. “Ain’t I, Doc?” “That’s just wonderful, Timmy!” Jean cried. “It’s up to Dr. Loring, old man,” Dr. Benson said. “Not me.” “Well, he said so,” Timmy said, petulantly. “Maybe even this week.” Jean smiled at him. “Well, if there’s nothing else you fellows want, I’ll leave you alone.” Dr. Benson jumped up. “Just a minute, Miss Craig,” he said. “I’ll walk down the hall with you.” Timmy watched sadly as they left the room. Once outside the room, Jean turned to the young intern. “Something’s on your mind,” she said. “Yeah,” Dr. Benson admitted. “I’m really worried about that kid. Where does he go from here? To some nice refined orphanage?” He scowled. “I hate[130] to think of that boy being shoved into an institution. It could ruin a kid like him.” Jean shrugged her shoulders. “I just don’t know,” she admitted. “But I think your viewpoint about orphanages is a very biased one. You know, there are some very wonderful ones. For instance, I visit one right outside of town on my visiting nurse days. It’s called Mercyville. The children there seem well adjusted and happy. A great many things, including orphanages, have changed since your day!” Dr. Benson bit his lip. “Maybe,” he said. “But I’m not sold on the idea. I’d take him, myself. But how can a bachelor raise a kid? And on the salary I get here? He’s a good boy, Jean! But he’s never had a break in his life. Gee, by comparison, I was raised royally. And now to get shoved into an orphanage would be too much!” Jean looked closely at the young doctor. For the first time since she had known him, he was seriously concerned about the future of someone beside himself. Just then the telephone rang, and Jean raced down the corridor to answer it. “Miss Craig calling Miss Craig,” Kit’s voice said at the other end. “How’re you doing up there?” “What is it, Kit?” Jean said, fearing that another patient was coming in. “I have a delegation to see you ... or someone.” Jean put down the phone and walked down to the lobby. Tommy and Billy Ellis and Buzzy Hancock[131] were standing by the desk. They all held large baskets. “Whatever do you want?” Jean demanded of her brother. “We brought these over,” Tommy said. “Mother and Becky and Mrs. Hancock sent a lot of food over for you guys.” Jean smiled. “That was nice, Tommy. Thanks for bringing them over.” “There’s something else,” Tommy said. “We’ve formed a squad.” “Yeah, a riot squad,” Billy added. “That’s a riot, son,” Buzzy squelched him. “What do you mean, a squad?” Jean asked. “Oh, do errands, if there are any. You know, shipping, or errands at the drugstore or books from the library for your patients. Just anything anyone wants us to do,” Tommy said. “You just have Kit or whoever’s on the switchboard call home when you want something. We’ll get it done.” Jean felt tears sting her tired eyes. “We can cart clothes to the laundry,” Billy reminded Tommy. “We got our bikes rigged up to carry big bundles. We could pick up your things in the morning, and then the guys who would drive your trucks could be free to do other things.” “Oh, golly, boys,” Jean cried. “I’ll tell Dr. Barsch.” Tommy saw how close Jean was to crying. “Come on, gang,” he said. And the three boys ran down the hospital steps. [132] Jean fought back the lump in her throat and said to Kit, “Make out a note to Dr. Barsch. He’ll keep them busy.” “Aye, aye, sir,” Kit said, jotting the message down on a scratch pad. “Somehow I don’t feel so tired any more,” Jean confided. “I think I’ll peek into the contagious ward before I go to bed.” Kit grinned. “Maybe I should join you. I haven’t had any calls but Tommy’s since I’ve been here. I’ll fall asleep myself, if I don’t get more business.” Jean made a wry face. “Don’t say that!” she cried. “You’ll put a whammy on us! Just for that, we’ll probably have a half dozen calls before morning!” But as the night hours passed, Kit had all she could do to keep awake. No outside calls passed through the switchboard. She sat silently for a while staring at the mural which Jean had painted for the clinic, and which now hung above the fireplace in the center of the lobby. She studied the figures of the farmer and his wife and son holding hands and the motto, “Co-operation, Ingenuity, Labor.” She smiled as she remembered Jean painting the sturdy picture with Ted Loring’s words in mind. Resolutely, she shook her head to clear it of the cobwebs of drowsiness. It was a good motto, Kit decided. She felt pleased with herself and with her community. <hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> [133] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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