As the Sparks Fly Upward (20 page)

After supper, Colin went into his room and changed clothes while Twyla cleaned up the dishes. Colin returned and sat down to read beside the candle.

Twyla was quiet for a time, then asked, “What's that you're reading, Mister?”

“It's a medical book—and a bad one at that. Here, look at this, Twyla.”

Twyla instantly got up, walked over, and sat down beside him.

“Look how bad the illustrations are.”

She gasped and said, “Who drew
these
?”

“I have no clue. Nobody with talent,” he said with a chuckle, for he was amused by her reaction. “They don't look anything like bones really do. The fellow who drew these had obviously never seen an autopsy.”

“You mean he never done what you and Dr. Teague do to dead people? Cut 'em up?”

“That's right. And it's obvious that he never really saw bones.” He leaned back for a while, silent, then he turned to her and smiled. “You know what I'm going to do, Twyla? I'm going to produce something brand new. I'm going to write a book of anatomy.”

Twyla looked confused. “What's that?”

“It will have in it every bone, every muscle, and every nerve laid out on a page so that young doctors won't have to go rob a grave or the gallows to get a body.” He spoke with excitement, and Twyla listened intently. He continued to go through the book and point out the poorly drawn illustrations.

“There was a man once named Andreas Vesalius. He has always been a hero of mine. He loved to dissect things just the way I do. But back in his day, doctors didn't do dissecting. They depended on a man name Galen. But Vesalius was unhappy with some of the things the great Galen said, and one day he was dissecting a corpse and found out that it was not at all the way Galen had described it. He found out that Galen had never dissected a human being! He had only dissected monkeys and other animals. Now, is that a way for a physician to do research? No! Vesalius did something about it, and I intend to do the same.”

At that moment the door opened and Phineas came in.

Twyla rose, saying, “Sit down, Doctor, I'll fix you something to eat.”

“Thank you, Twyla, that will be nice. I'm famished.”

Twyla left for a moment to get some milk from the next room. She overheard Phineas say, “That child is hungry to learn. She's done well. I was wrong about her in that way.”

“Yes, you were. And yes, she has done very well.”

Phineas said firmly, “You'd better be careful about her, though. I might have been wrong about her never cleaning herself up or never learning anything, but I'm sure she can still be trouble in some other ways.”

“What are you talking about, Phineas?”

“I mean you must not do a wrong thing.”

Colin's frustration was clear in his voice. “Why, she is just a child!”

“She's on the brink of becoming a woman. Mind what I say! Men are weak at best, and better men than you have been snared by a young woman.”

Colin's face burned, for he had not freed himself from the guilt of his sin with Heather. It seemed that no prayer or effort could get that time out of his mind, and he could not answer his colleague.

Twyla came back in the room, and the two men grew quiet, not realizing she had heard the whole conversation. Phineas began to eat. He had a peculiar method—he shoved food into his mouth as if he were stuffing it into a cabinet to store for future use.

Finally, Colin said, “I've heard that the Seahawks have returned from a raid, and Adam was with them. Do you know when they got back?”

“Just this week. Came back with a load of plunder to give to the queen. They're having a big ball, and you should go. Adam will certainly be there.”

“I believe I will. I'm very proud of Adam; as a matter of fact the whole family is.”

Phineas looked at Colin. “It's you they should be proud of.”

Colin shook his head. “I'm not the one bringing a treasure to the queen.”

“And what if Elizabeth gets sick? Will she send for Adam, or for you? Let's have no more nonsense! Now, you should look like a prince. Where are your best clothes?”

As Colin entered the large room that was often used for dances and entertainments, many greeted him. His reputation had spread. He smiled and spoke to some, but to others he gave only cool greetings. These were the members of the Royal College of Physicians; they only feigned respect for him. The queen came in, and Elizabeth had never looked better. Her fine dress, studded with pearls and diamonds, glittered as she walked. As she entered, she turned and met Colin's eyes and gave him a warm smile, and Colin bowed deeply.

As soon as Elizabeth was seated, she lifted her hand, and the double doors opened. The Seahawks began to march in. At the head was Sir Francis Drake, the scourge of the Spanish Main. Immediately behind him, Colin saw his brother, Adam, dressed like royalty and smiling broadly. Behind them were men bearing chests of the treasures Drake brought back from his voyage. They put them down before the queen, and Drake said with a wide smile, “Here is your treasure, Your Majesty, straight from the pockets of the King of Spain!”

“I'm very grateful to you and the Seahawks, Sir Francis.”

“We must hit them hard, Your Majesty! The easier we are on them, the harder they will make it on us.”

Elizabeth did not respond, for she still wanted no wars. She had made it plain that if Drake were successful, that was one thing, but if he only made Spain angry enough to war, he would suffer for it.

After the presentations were made, Colin was watching as the queen spoke to Drake and to Adam. Someone called his name, and he turned and found Lady Heather Benton standing
before him. She was dressed in a rich burgundy gown, her hair swept up and glittering with jewels. Shock ran through him, and all the wild emotions she had once stirred in him came rushing back. He could not speak for a moment, but she smiled quickly and said, “You're looking so well, Colin. And I hear such marvelous things about you.”

“Thank you,” Colin managed to say. “You—you look wonderful.” Indeed, Heather was more beautiful than ever. Like the queen, she was dazzling. She spoke easily, praising his accomplishments. He finally said, “It's good to see you, Heather. I've missed you.”

“Have you? I've missed you too.”

This was encouragement enough to Colin, and his hope began to come back. “I would like to see you again sometime. Do you mind if I call on you?”

“Why, I think that would be fine.” She turned to look at Adam, who stood with the other Seahawks. “The Seahawks have done well. They presented such bounty to the queen.”

“We're all very proud of them, and my brother, Adam.”

As they talked, Colin's hope continued to grow. Finally, Adam walked over to them. He looked tall and bronzed and extremely handsome. He spoke to Colin, but his eyes were on Lady Heather Benton. “Well, here you are, Brother. You're always working your wiles on the most beautiful women in the room!” he teased. “I beg, lady, do not put your trust in him, for he is a devil when women are concerned.” He nudged Colin sharply, saying, “Introduce us, Colin.”

Colin said with restraint, “This is Lady Heather Benton. Lady, this is my brother, Adam, as you well know.”

Heather looked up at Adam, her eyes sparkling. “I've been such an admirer of the Seahawks! All England is so proud of your accomplishments.”

Adam preened, saying, “If you can tear yourself away from my brother, I'll introduce you to Sir Francis Drake.”

“Why, that would be wonderful!” Heather exclaimed. She slipped her arm through Adam's and they made their way through the crowd. Colin stood forgotten, and the happiness that had rushed through him left as quickly as it came. He could not bear to watch, for Heather was obviously taken with Adam. He left the room, not saying a word to anyone on his way out.

Twyla heard the door close and was surprised when she saw Colin come in. “It's so early! I thought you'd be home late.”

“No, I've had all I can handle of balls.”

He started for his room, but Twyla rushed to his side and tugged at his sleeve. “Mister, you promised to tell me all about the ball, about all the pretty dresses and the dancing. Please tell me.”

“I don't feel like talking.”

“But you promised!”

He heaved a sigh and said, “All right, fix me some of that good spiced ale you make and I'll tell you what I remember.”

Soon he was sipping the hot liquid she had brewed for him. He told her of what the queen looked like with her pearls and diamonds on her dress and about the treasure Drake had presented. Twyla hung on his every word. “It must have been wonderful!” She had a dreamy look in her eyes as she asked, “Who else was there?”

“Well, there was Lady Heather Benton—” He broke off. “I didn't mean to talk about her.”

Twyla knew something was wrong. “Why not? Do you know her?” Colin tried to change the subject, but she kept urging him to say more, made curious by the look in his eyes. He didn't say much, but Twyla soon learned that he felt deeply for the woman. When he finally in desperation let it slip that she had rejected him, Twyla said angrily, “She wouldn't 'ave you?”

“No! She used me, and then she threw me out!” Colin said bitterly. “When I saw her tonight I—I thought that we could
find each other again. But she doesn't care a pin for me! She went off with Adam and forgot I was even there.”

“Why, Colin, you're jealous of your own brother!” Twyla just realized she had used his name for the first time.

“No, I'm not!”

“Yes, you are. You still love that woman, or you wouldn't get so angry when you talk about 'er!”

“I don't care for her and I don't want to hear anything about it ever again!” Colin shouted. He got up and left the room, his face flushed.

Twyla stared at him as he left and muttered angrily, “Well, she's a bloody fool if she don't love you, Mister Colin Winslow!”

14

January 3, 1585

A
beam of yellow light slanted through the windows. Tiny motes drifted through the amber rays that brought warmth into the coldness of the room. Colin was sitting at the table, carefully drawing on a piece of paper. His hand moved slowly and he bit his lower lip nervously. Suddenly, he straightened up and exclaimed, “Blasted paper! Blasted pen! Blasted everything!” Angrily, he crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it into the fire, muttering, “I just can't do it!”

Finally he stood and went to the window, watching as snow fell from a slate-colored sky. The flakes were as large as shillings and made a beautiful sight, softening the looks of fences and houses. Usually the sight pleased him greatly, but not now. When Twyla came in and asked, “What would you like for supper?” he snapped angrily, “What do I care? Fix anything you want.” He had been trying for days now to make some anatomical sketches, but he had no talent for it.

Twyla snapped back, “You don't 'ave to shout at me! I'm not the one who's acting like a looney! You can fix your own bloody dinner!”

Colin turned and saw Twyla's red face, and he realized he
had hurt her. At once he moved over to her and put his hand on her shoulder, saying, “I didn't mean to shout, child.”

“I'm not no child!” Twyla spat out at him. She was angry to the bone. Ordinarily it would have softened her to have Colin's hand on her shoulder, but now she had nothing but rage. “I'm not no child, Mister Colin Winslow! The way of a woman come on me nearly a year ago.”

Colin stared at her in dismay. “I—I didn't know.” A guilty feeling shot through Colin and he patted her shoulder. “I'm so sorry, Twyla. I know I'm full of faults, but please don't be angry with me.”

Twyla slapped his hand away and shouted, “Keep yer bloody 'ands off me!” She burst out crying and ran blindly from the room.

Colin stared after her and ran his hands through his hair. With a sigh, he returned to his fruitless struggles to make the drawings for the book. He worked for an hour, but at the end he gave up in disgust. He got up from the desk and began pacing the floor. He had exhausted himself working on his book in addition to the busy practice he shared with Teague. The autopsies had been simple enough for him, for he was very clever in that way; his hands were strong and sensitive. Yet at the same time, it was impossible to make the bones, the muscles, and the nerves look realistic in drawings. He sighed, lowered his head, and whispered, “Lord, why can't I
do
this?” He got no answer and realized it was the first time in months that he had prayed. Actually, he prayed very little. His religion was a habitual thing, for his parents had brought him up in church. He knew he did not have the close relationship with God that they did. This troubled him, especially at times like these.

I need to get away from all this. I'll go home and visit the family.
It was a sudden decision, but he knew it was right. Moving to the door, he called out, “Twyla?” and then waited until she appeared in the doorway. Her cheeks were wet with tears. “I'm so
sorry I yelled at you. I'm sorry for everything.” He saw that her face didn't change and said, “I'm going home to go visit my family. I was wondering if you would like to come with me.” Her face brightened and the anger disappeared. Colin knew this was the way with Twyla. She could be filled with rage, but seconds later she would be happy and cheery as ever.