HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Advance-Times, 1940-12-19, Page 15Dusty sat down and lighted a cig
arette with shaking fingers. “Yes, yes,
of course,” he said. “There was a girl
in our office who had it and she came
out in no time after the serum. Amaz
ing, aren’t they, doctors and serums,?”
An attendant called Dot out to sign
the entry papers and make some ar
rangements, and Joel held an evening
newspaper Before "him so that Dusty
wouldn’t have to talk and could pull
himself together, Joel had always
thought of his brother as strong and
invincible, but this white-faced, strick
en man was a stranger to him.
It seemed years before Dot came
back into the room and said a little
hysterically to Dusty, “What she has
is not one of the ordinary types at all
— it’s a rare type that they don’t
know much about — a — dangerous
type.”
“But the serum, Dot. What about
the serum?”
“That’s just it, Dusty. There isn’t
any of this particular serum in the
city of New York. It seems fantastic
ally preposterous, but’it’s true. There
isn’t a vial of it anywhere.”
CHAPTER XI
When Dot appeared in the office,
circles under her eyes, her face white
and drawn, Stephen said, “Don’t wor
ry so, Dot. Everything possible is be-’
ing done. Sue is young and healthy,
and she’ll certainly pull out of it.”
“I — I — don’t think she will,” Dot
said. “Even Dr. Towne has more or
less given up hope, and he Was the
one who thought she’d make it. She’s
been getting weaker all day. It does
n’t seem possible that three days ago
she was as well and happy as we are
now. It’s my fault. How could I have
let it go! I ought to have called the
doctor the night before. If — if she
dies, it will be all my fault.”
Stephen led her gently to a chair.
“But the serum is effective, isn’t it?”
“You see — you know of course
that they were delayed ten hours with
that . When they’ finally located it,
it had to be sent by plane. If they
had had it sooner it might have made
the difference between recovery and
—she hasn’t known anyone for hours.”
“I’ve never known you to lack cour
age before,” Stephen said. “Of course
all this time you’ve scarcely eaten or
slept. I hope you don’t worry about
the office.”
“I do, though,” Dot said, “even in
the presence of — death. But I
thought I’d go stark, raving mad if
I had to sit in that white room any
longer and listen to Sue struggle for
breath. You just sit and wait — and
there is nothing in the world but wait
ing — and the uncertainty of the out
come.”
Stephen’s dark eyes were soft and
sympathetic. “Waiting is — just -that,
Dot.”
Dot could hardly go on to explain
that she' had fled from the hospital
after Dusty broke down completely.
It was a moment when the suspense
had suddenly, become unbearable for
all of them. Dot wanted to cry out-
against the blanket of silence which
stifled her. But a single sound might
disturb Sue. Dusty had come up to
her, and his eyes, intense and tragic,
had sought hers.“Dot,” he said huskily, “we have
gone through ten years of our lives
chattering,, and rarely — once in six
months perhaps — have we ever been
fully aware of each other. This
sounds confused — but — ”
An ache in her throat, Dot nodded.
“I know.”“And it just came to me as we wait
in this meeting place of life and death,
that death might suddenly take off ei
ther you or me and we might never
really know each other. People are
fools to grope around like this — in a
human fog. You have been a marvel
ous friend and have meant a lot to
me ■— only — only Sue,” his voice
became a whisper and he could barely
finish, “means to me so much more
than my life. If anything should hap
pen to her, I don’t think I could go
on."Dot stroked Dusty’s brown head in
her lap While his hot tears flowed
freely. Sweet, thoroughly trusting,
and needing comfort, Dusty,turned to
her. Yet more swiftly' and cleanly
than this he couldn’t have severed her
Past life from her. Was if retribution
because one evening, alone, when Sue
and Dusty had been particularly^ gay
and happy together she had wished
for a brief moment that there wasn’t
any Sue Garland? That black thought
had doged her steps guiltily ever since
Sue had become ill. She had said ov
er and over, “Please God, don’t let
her die. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t
want her sick. I just meant — I wish
that she and Dusty hadn’t fallen in
WINGHAM ADVANCE-'flMES
love.”
Dot dreW a long breath, “I must
get some air. 'I’m simply ’pickled in
ether and chloroform.” Because there
Wasn’t any other place she could think
of and because she knew Stephen was
there, she went automatically to the
office.
When Dot returned to the hospital
she found Joel pacing the corridor.
His cheeks were hollow, his eyes hag
gard. His lips were moving in silent
speech when Dot came up to him. He
blinked uncomprehendingly when Dot
asked if there had been any change.”
“Change? Who’s likely to change?”
he muttered.
Dot laid her hand on his arm. “Sue
— is there any change?”
Joel shook his head slowly. “No —
no change. No change at all.”
He continued to shake his head
while Dot led him back into the little
waiting room where Dusty stood
looking out the window. And the vigil
began all over again. An hour later
she was sitting with Dusty and Joel,
each like a radio tuned to catch every
sound which came from that still
white room across the hall.
Suddenly Dot became conscious of
“I’d hate to get you all nicely started
out and get
something moving in the hall. Dimly
outlined against ‘ the shaded lights it
looked like a small figure with long-
skirts sweeping the floor. At first she
.thought it must be an hallucination.
Then she heard the swishing of ribbed
silk, the familiar sound of flat-soled
shoes, the determined tapping of a
cane, and she realized that it was
Gran. Her wrinkled little face was full
of anxiety, but her voice was loud and
peremptory in the stilled room where
they had been talking in hushed tones.
“This is a pretty howdy-do! Where
is she — where is Sue?”
‘‘She’s in her room,” Dot whispered.
Gran tapped impatiently with her
cane. “Well, where is her room? And
where’s her doctor? I w.anta see ’em
both.” •
“In there —” Dot stammered as the
nurse came tiptoeing out. “Here’s the
nurse.”
Gran followed the nurse into the
sick room, her cane nervously lapping
the floor.
“Now I’ll have her to worry about,”
said; Dot, shaking her head. “.She
shouldn’t have come. She’s eighty-
one years old, and her own condition
is precarious.”
Dusty smiled reassuringly. “You
needn’t worry about Gran; she’ll out
live all of us. Have you forgotten
how she had her appendix out at sev
enty-three and was up and about in
two weeks? Still has all her own
teeth, and hardly a gray hair on her
head. A little think like a trip to New
York — only — if —”
“Yes,” Dot said, if —”
But they did feel better with Gran
there. There was something steady
ing and vital about her presence. Ev
en the doctors felt it. Gran had look
ed them all over, questioned them
sharply, and then had singled .out a
red-headed young nobody named
Scott who was only an interne. Now
Slid Sat over by the window in Sue’s
room while the interne in a white coat
lounged wearily in a chair, and watch
ed two ivory needles flash about in
red wool under Gran's fingers,
"A body can think better, leastways
I can — if my fingers are busy,” she
explained. “Besides, there’s no sense
in wastin’ time. These are mittens,
Now I guess you and I have the
same idea about Sue, Disregardin’ all
this talk about germs and injections
and oxygen tents and whatnots, you
and I kinda think she ain’t puttin’ up
a good enough fight. Is that it?”
Dr. Scott nodded. “Up to last night
she seemed to have everything in her
favor — youth, health, 'vitality — but
this is a particularly bad germ. I
haven’t had the experience of these
older doctors. They seem to think
that as a rule people just don’t recov
er from it.”
Gran pressed her point. “Ain’t it
likely now that she’s got something on
her mind that keeps, her from wantin’
to get well? I bin listenin’ to her de
lirium and it ain’t a happy kind. It
makes me think mebbe she’s had a
setback of some sort. Now certainly
it ain’t her work. I wonder — I won
der if it could be. Well, anyway, while
there’s life there’s hope.”
Dr, Scott smiled and stood up. “I’ll
certainly say that, Grandma, and we’ll
pull her through if it can be done.”
on a career only to have you step
married.”
He took her cold hand in his warm
one. “We’ll do our best, and if we can
keep her alive through the next twelve
hours she’ll have a chance. — but it
will be a slim one.”
Gran briskly wound up the ball of
red yarn, put it in her bag, and walk
ed slowly across the hall into the
room where the other three sat. She
looked at them calmly.
“Joey and Dot, you two go out and
get your dinner right away. .We’re
not a-goin’ to leave Sue alone for a
minute. Dr. Scott is a’sendin’ me a
bite on a tray. And’ Dusty, you’re'Jto
take your turn while I’m eatin’.”
It was towards morning when Gran
and Joel were watching that Gran had
loaned over suddenly and asked him,
“What’s the trouble between Dot and
Dusty?”
Joel shook his head. “No trouble
that I know of.”,
• Gran looked skeptical. “Don’t try
to tejl me that. I saw there was some
thing amiss the minute I laid eyes on
Dot. Now what is it?”
Joel squirmed. “It’s Dusty.” He
felt a lump forming in his throat. “He
is in love with Sue.” He had to swal
low hard before he was able to say.
“They’re engaged—”
Gran nodded and drew down the
corners of her mouth. “So that’s it!”
As the crisis approached, the doc
tors gathered outside the door where
they stood in their white smocks and
consulted in whispers. The nurse,
watch in hand and a finger on Sue’s
pulse, crouche^ by the bedside. Sud
denly she turned and called in a start
led voice, “Doctor!”
All the doctors moved quickly, but
Gran was already bending over the
bed. “Sue, dearie,” she said coaxingly
but distinctly, “it’s time to get up
now!”
Sue stirred — struggled — and op
ened her eyes.
“Now!” said Gran. She shoved Joel
forward. “Say it now!”
Joel bent over the bed. “Sue. dar
ling, I did mean what I said. I meant
every word. I do love you. Come
back, darling!”
PAGE SEVEN
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CHAPTER XII
Joel Paine had intended to spend
three days in New York. Instead, he
had been there a week. Now that Sue
was well on the way to recovery,
there was no reason for him to re
main any longer, barring his appoint
ment to take Dot to lunch.
He had planned to go to one of
the more fashionable restaurants, but
Dot could spare only a short time and
preferred a place near the office. It
was a pretentious and expensive place
but Dot was well known there. The
head waiter called her “Miss Graves"
and bowed deferentially. He came up
during the progress of the meal and
asked if everything was all right, to
see if her chop was cooked to the
right turn and, finally, to say that they
had some of those particular preserv
ed peaches which Miss Graves so fav
ored.
Dot had no wish to impress Joel,
that he knew. It was all too apparent
tdiat she was used to this sort of thine.
But to Joel, from Mrs. Van’Anden's
boarding- house in White Creek, it was
extraordinary. He was not accustom
ed to have"a girl give the orders. Joel
was not. at all sure he liked it. He
wondered, if it was right for women
to have jobs which gave them such
power and money. Didn’t it do some
thing to their inner selves? Still there
were scarcely any women more es
sentially dainty and feminine than
Dot. He had a feeling that Dot was
unhappy. Why, he couldn’t say. She
seemed so perfectly a part of her sur
roundings, but there was a lack of
ease, a jumpy tension even in the
most casual conversation. Joel felt
that even now she was turning things
over in her mind, making out lists of
things for other people to do.
v, coiddn’t understand why Joel
liked White Creek. “You don’t want
to. get your roots in too deep.” she
said.
Joel felt her implication that it was
a backwash, than nothing ever hap
pened there. One grew up and then
lapsed.into some kind of slow dry rot.
He grinned. “You don’t seem to un
derstand I honestly prefer White
Creek. I feel about New York the way '
you do about White Creek. T don’t
see, for instance, when you ever have
time to think.”
“New York,” said Dot, “suits me
FttaulaHng ”f‘nd “ bOtl’ amUSi"E and
New York, though., is the disagreeable
such ln ^hic,h one has to waste
such a lot of perfectly good time. The
elevators the subways, the waiting
rooms.. Now, wasting time in White
Creek is often productive and always
pleasant. No matter where you are
there is usually something satisfying
to look at — a tree, or clouds, or the
sunset or snow. It’s those vivid flash
es Jhat make up a lifetime.”
, <<Yes’’’ Dot agreed with a little
JoeP’1 tkcn* “You’re a queer boy
I guess you and Dusty feel the
same Dusty simply won’t understand
why I refuse to come down here and
make what he considers a decent liv
ing in the advertising business. I
think a way of life is more important
than money. Of course there should
be( enough of that."
“I can see your point,” Dot said,
- 1?okl".S at her watch. Joel saw that
slic didn t and probably never would.
Dot didn’t like the idea of White
Creek because there she couldn’t be
the person she was now. The oppor
tunity didn’t exist. Here in New York
she was an important executive who
wore expensive clothes, ate expensive
meals, and met interesting people.
Afterwards he realized that the rea
son they had discussed the matter so
extensively was because they were
both carefully skirting the topic of
Dusty and Sue. Agreeing that .Sue’s
recovery had been more or less of a
nnracle and that Gran had arrived just
in the nick of time, they dropped the
subject.
She had recollection of the time she
was so very ill. It was just as if those
day had vanished completely from her
memory. She didn’t even recall going
to the hospital, although something ’
persisted with the vagueness of a
dream. Even that was fading and now
she indulged in the pleasure of getting
well.
Dusty insisted that she looked a
great deal better than when she first
went to the hospital. She was pale and
a, little thinner, which gave her a de
cidedly spirituelle appearance, highly
becoming. Dusty was worried about
her voice which continued husky and
occasionally died to a whisper. ’How
ever, the doctors insisted that would
dear up as she gained strength, The