Lovers in Enemy Territory (6 page)

This premonition hadn’t come purely because of Michael’s attachment to her. It was something else. Her demeanor, the way she spoke with such authority and poise, her native intelligence, the way she carried herself. There was depth of character here. He knew this despite the fact he’d only been in her company since morning. Jeffrey sensed these things as well. Philip could tell.

Another hour and the car pulled up in front of the Sacred Heart Hospital in Norwood. It was made over from a municipal building that had been erected before the turn of the century and looked more like a government building than a medical center. Jeffrey turned off the engine and and jumped out of the car, quickly opening the back door for Catheine who’d awakened. Philip preceded them into the hospital.

Jeffrey turned to her. “Michael has a room on the second floor, Sister. Before we go up, I want to find Hugh and let him know we’re here. Phil, wait with Sister Catherine for a moment, will you?” Philip nodded as his brother ran down to the end of the hall and disappeared.

Catherine gazed around at the high ceilings and well worn linoleum floors. Sisters from the Dominican Order served the hospital. She was thankful that other sisters were on the premises. She’d never done hospital work, In truth she had little taste for it, much preferring the life of the children and the school room.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Jeffrey came back. He’d put an arm around the shoulders of a small, balding man while they conversed. The other man looked at Catherine with fresh interest.

“Sister? This is Hugh Endicott, Michael’s doctor.”

“Doctor.” Catherine smiled.

“How do you do, Sister,” he responded with warmth. “Frankly, when Elinore told me the boys had gone to fetch you, I shook my head, but I hoped. Now you’re here there’s not a moment to lose.” He grew serious. “Come with me. Michael’s in a very weak condition.

“I don’t have to tell you what it will mean to the boy to see you. He’s been asking for you continually. I respect the field of medicine, but there comes a time when a case is in the hands of God. Michael requires a miracle, Sister. I presume that’s why you’re here.”

Her fear increased. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

The four of them went up the stairs and down the hall to the end door. Jeffrey turned the handle. “I want to go in first and tell him you’re here.”

She nodded and folded her arms tightly with her hands tucked in her sleeves. Her anxiety grew by the second. He finally reappeared, his face wearing the haggard expression once more. His skin was the color of paste, causing Catherine to groan inwardly. He raised pained eyes to her. With a weak hand he motioned for her to come into the room. Catherine stepped inside, shuddering at the thought of Michael under these conditions. The day he’d left the convent, he’d been a strong, healthy child with sparkling blue eyes that shed sunshine. To think it had come to this! She tiptoed past the curtain that had been pulled aside, but she hesitated to go any closer to the bed.

There was a little body lying there, propped so his head was higher than his feet. But a

croup tent had been erected about his chest and head so she couldn’t see him. The blinds were shut, darkening the room. Several chairs and a bedside table were the only furnishings in the sterile green room.

That couldn’t be Michael lying there, she cried to herself. Not the energetic child who kept all the sisters alert with his vitality.

His father went to the side of the bed and lifted the flap of the tent so she could see him. Catherine finally found the courage to cross over to him. One pale hand lay palm down on the sheet, seemingly lifeless. She slipped her hand into his. No response.

Her heart pounded painfully. She leaned over to look beneath the tent cover and beheld the white, pinched face of the dear child. His red-rimmed eyes were half open and the golden locks that hugged his scalp in straggly wet tendrils were dark. They’d lost their luster.

He was much thinner. Hollows appeared where there’d once been firm, rosy flesh. A distinct rattle came from deep inside his chest each time he took a breath. He was fighting for every bit of air he could get. Her pain grew. She shook her head unconsciously.

“Michael,” she whispered. “My little love,” she cried out softly and bent over to kiss the sunken cheek which bore the telltale red spots of high fever.

His head didn’t move, but the eyes opened a little wider at the sound of her voice. Their color was more gray than blue. Dull and lifeless. “Not his eyes...not his eyes,” she murmured, fighting for control. “Michael,” she called to him again. He stared and finally recognized her. She smiled, but a sob got trapped in her throat. “Yes, darling. It’s Sister Catherine. I’ve come to take care of you.”

He closed his eyes. His lids looked like dried parchment. Then he opened them again, turning his head a trifle this time to get a better look. His hot little hand pressed her fingers. “Sister-- I knew you’d come. It took so long.” He sobbed and the thin chest heaved, forcing a deep rasping cough that she felt through her being.

Her heart lurched and her arms went around his shrunken form. He tried to sit up and put arms around her neck, but his strength failed and she held him against her breast. She put her face against his burning cheeks, letting him feel her coolness for a moment. The boy wept, soaking the scapular of her habit.

“My precious one,” she wept along with him. “I love you, my darling. I’m here now,” she assured him over and over again. “Go ahead and cry. It’s all right. I won’t leave you.”

Jeffrey stood spellbound while he watched the love flowing between them. He raised his head, blinking back tears. Such deep affection emanated from her face as she held the boy close, he knew he’d done the right thing. If only he’d realized it sooner, he’d have gone for her two weeks ago, before the illness had reached this stage. He noticed how Michael clung to her. There was a desperation about the way he whispered her name repeatedly. They were like mother and son.

Michael finally fell into a light sleep. She reluctantly lay his head back against the pillow. His hand still clung tightly to hers. She raised a tear stained face to Jeffrey after he’d replaced the flap. Unspoken words passed between them. Both their hearts were on the verge of breaking. Finally she bowed her head in prayer, never letting go of the limp hand.

Jeffrey moved over to the window to pray for his son’s recovery. He’d done everything he could do now. Sister Catherine was here. The rest was up to God.

In a minute Catherine sat down in one of the hard chairs near the bed. Jeffrey came back over to join her. “How long has he had this difficulty breathing?” she asked.

“Since yesterday.”

“He’s burning with fever. Would you ask the sister for a basin of cold water and a cloth? I could at least keep his lips moist. He’s dehydrated.”

Jeffrey nodded and went down the hall, bringing the items she’d requested. Together they took turns wetting his lips and face. By late afternoon he stirred and Catherine removed the cover. “Hello.” She smiled at him.

“Did you go away while I was asleep” His voice was a mere whisper.

“No. I sat right here.”

“Where’s daddy?”

“I’m here, son.” Jeffrey leaned over the other side. “How do you feel?”

“It hurts.” He put a hand on his chest, then reached for his father.

“I know.” Jeffrey’s voice broke as he let the boy cry. “It’ll go away soon. He kissed him tenderly.

Michael kept his eyes on his father. “You said Sister couldn’t come, but she did.”

“Yes,” Catherine interjected. “It’s all been arranged. You see how important you are?”

“And you won’t go away?” He coughed painfully.

“No, darling. I plan to stay right here with you.”

“At night, too?”

“If you want me to.”

Jeffrey eyed her. “You can use the cot they’ve kept here for me.”

“Aunt Ellie came last night,” he said in a flat voice.

“I know. I asked her to stay with you while I went for Sister Catherine.”

“Daddy, will you and Sister stay with me all the time now?” His breathing was labored, causing both of them more pain.

“Yes, son. For as long as you like.”

“That’s good,” Michael whispered and closed his eyes. He doubled up to reduce a coughing spasm that had started once again. Catherine wished she could spare the boy. When the couching subsided, he spoke once more. “Sister?” His eyes were still closed. “I’ve missed you.”

More tears trickled down her cheeks. “I’ve missed you, too,” she assured him. Jeffrey handed her a handkerchief. “I’ve brought you a present.”

His eyelids fluttered. “What is it?”

“Something you left behind.” She reached in her pocket. Jeffrey watched with curiosity.

“Here.” She put it in his hand.

“My whistle.” He sounded surprised.

“The one Peter whittled for you. Holy Mother said she’s missed hearing you play it in the afternoons.”

Michael tried to hold it up to his lips, but the effort was too much. He coughed and it slipped out of his hand onto the sheet. “I’ll put it here in the drawer by the bed. It’ll be here when you want it. Now go to sleep.” She placed her hand on his forehead, stroking it gently.

Jeffrey listened as she began singing a charming French tune that apparently was familiar to his son because his mouth curled at the corners. “Ecoutez tous, ecoutez, tous, l’echo, l’echo. Il dit, il dit, soyons toujours amis”

She had a rich mellow voice, soothing to the ear. Michael felt for her hand and fell sound asleep. At that point fatigue had caught up to her. She sat back in the chair and closed her eyes.

Jeffrey slipped out of the room. Dr. Endicott was filling out reports at the nurse’s station. “Hugh? I was just coming to find you.”

He took one look at Jeffrey and put a hand on his arm. “You’ve got to get some rest. There’s a bed down in the doctor’s lounge. I want you to lie down for a while and no buts,” he admonished.

“I will. Sister Catherine has gotten him back to sleep.”

“Good. Just what the boy needs.”

“Wake me if there’s the slightest change?”

The doctor moistened his lower lip. “Jeff. I suspect he’s going to reach the crisis sometime tonight. We should know before morning. You get sleep now. Later Michael will need you.”

Jeffrey felt ill. “Thanks, Hugh.”

“No thanks are necessary. By the way, Elinore phoned. I told her you’d brought the nun back with you. I presumed you’d both be staying the night and told her so. She wanted to come back to the hospital, but I told her that since the Sister had come, it wasn’t necessary.”

“Good. She should be with Philip. I told him to take the car home and get some sleep.”

“You do the same. Now!”

*****

Catherine stirred when she heard the rattle of trays outside the door. An aide brought in her dinner. She’d been dozing on and off and hadn’t realized the lateness of the hour. Michael was still asleep, but his breathing was more labored. A new wave of fear seized her and she couldn’t touch the food. She preferred to sponge him down as the fever raged through him.

Several more hours passed and he began babbling incoherently. His sleep was fitful. She was beside herself and ran out in the hall in search of his father. Dr. Endicott had just left a patient’s room and saw her frantic expression. He hurried into the room and pulled the tent away to examine Michael. First he listened to his chest, then his back. Even Catherine, untrained in medical matters, could tell his breathing was too shallow.

The doctor glanced at her for a second and the worried look on his face left nothing to the imagination. He gave him another injection and propped him on his side once more, raising the bed till the boy was almost in a sitting position. Then he relaced the tent. “Sister— all we can do now is wait and pray. I’ll go for Jeffrey.”

She nodded, immobilized with despair. “It’s not fair,” she cried out to the Lord in her first rebellion against the Divine order. “Don’t let this child die,” she begged and slowly sank to her knees, pouring out her heart to Him.

Jeffrey rushed into the room, but stopped immediately when he saw her kneeling. She hadn’t heard him enter the room. Tears filled his eyes as he heard the last few words of her prayer.

“Take my life if Thou wilt, but don’t take this boy from his father. This man has already lost his wife, and he’s saved so many other lives. Father, if it’s Thy will, spare his son. He needs him. But if it’s not Thy will, then let this man find peace. Ease his grief. Be with him in this hour of travail.”

It touched Jeffrey that she’d prayed for him as well as for Michael. There was great sweetness in her. It was no wonder his little boy worshipped her. He had to get well!

He hurried over to the opposite side of the bed and knelt down. With a prayer in his heart, he reached out and took the boy’s other hand. For a long time afterward he remained in that position.

*****

Elinore had insisted that she and Phili go right over to the hospital. Hugh had tried to discourage her from coming, but she had to be near Jeffrey. Philip agreed to go as soon as he’d eaten and slept. They arrived at the hospital shortly before eleven p.m.