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Authors: Stanford Vaterlaus

BOOK: Spirit Pouch
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"Yes, I will."  I walk away and sit down by Annie.  She is telling Joseph how she is going to bump his marble right out of the circle.

"You missed last time," Joseph reminds her in self defense.

"I know," Annie scowls, coughing a couple of times.  "But if I get your duck out this time, then I win."

"Not if your taw goes out, too," Joseph says with a cough, also.

"You both sound like you've picked up a bad cold." I state, trying to sound concerned.

"Yeah," Annie says, aiming her marble.  "I've had a cold before.  It won't last long."  She shoots her taw, but it hits a bump in the dirt and veers to the side, stopping only an inch from the edge of the circle.  "Oh, no!" she says.

"You missed again," Joseph yells, but his exuberant cheer is cut short by a spree of coughing.

"You haven't won yet," Annie says.  I can see a competitive fire in her eyes.

Joseph aims carefully and sends his taw rolling.  It collides squarely with Annie's duck and bumps it decisively out of the circle.

"I won!  I won!" Joseph yells.  He coughs, then yells again.

"Okay," Elizabeth says.  "It's time for all children who have been bitten by a snake recently to get some rest."

"You mean me, Mother?" Joseph whines.

"Yes, my Joseph.  I do mean you," she says, pointing to a pile of blankets.  "Anyone who was as sick as you needs extra rest.  Pull a blanket around you and I will bring you some venison stew as soon as I get it done.  Meanwhile, I want you to lie down and close your eyes."

"Ah, Mother!"

Elizabeth points to the blankets, and Joseph reluctantly crawls into bed, wincing a little as he pulls the blanket over his sore leg.

"Annie."

"I know.  You want me to help you."  She gets up slowly and drags herself to the cooking area.

Joseph gets venison stew a short while later, and we have stew and biscuits for dinner.

During the night I hear Joseph and Annie cough.  I feel sorry for them.  Coughing until your muscles ache and your throat burns is painfully unpleasant.  I know the illness will torment them, and us who must listen to them suffer, but then their bodies will triumph and return to health once again, so shortly I drift into a solid slumber until the dawn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

 

 

 

Willow Springs

 

 

 

Thomas
arrives in camp early enough to see me crawl out of my warm blankets.  He brings more eggs, which I am glad to see.  Before long Elizabeth calls everyone to breakfast and to my surprise Joseph limps over to a wooden box near the kitchen and sits down next to Annie.  He pulls a blanket up around him and smiles.

"You can stay for the prayer," Elizabeth says sternly.  "Then you go climb back into bed."

"Aah, Mother," Joseph whines, but his voice is gravelly and he coughs with a dry wheezing sound.

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow and gives him that 'I-am-the-mother' look.

"I'm feeling much better, Mother," he says, stopping to cough again.  "My chest hurts a lot from coughing, but my leg is mending really fast."

"Nevertheless," Elizabeth says, "You need the rest.  I will bring some breakfast to you."

Henry calls on George to offer the morning prayer.

I really don't hear what George says in the prayer because what I do hear is Joseph cough, then Annie coughs.

"… we are thankful for this food …"

Joseph coughs again.  This time he coughs down deep in his chest and then wheezes to suck air back in.  Then Annie coughs again.

"… Amen."

I see heads and eyes turn toward Joseph.  Mine do, too.  He looks all right, but he sounds like he has a major chest cold.

"Joseph," Elizabeth says, breaking the 'look-at-Joseph' trance.  "Off to bed with you.  Annie, you get a blanket wrapped around you.  It sounds like you are catching a cold, too."

Elizabeth just stands there, strong and determined, holding her spoon, and commanding her battalion of sick children.  Joseph silently retreats to bed, sliding under two layers of blankets.  Annie finds the blanket that she had slept on and pulls it around her shoulders like a shawl.

"The freight wagons are leaving today," Thomas announces between a bite of eggs and a biscuit.

"I have been expecting a departure," Henry says, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"When do you go?" Elizabeth asks.

"I got up early and did all my chores.  That's why I had time to come over here.  I wanted to say goodbye. So, we will be leaving soon.  I just have to hitch the wagon to the oxen as soon as I get back."

"We will miss you," Elizabeth says, giving Thomas a big embrace as he stands to leave.

"I'll see you again, soon, I think," Thomas says hugging his mother.  "We will go to some small towns and then to Laramie.
[90]
  After Laramie, we will cross the river at the Big Laramie River Stage Station."

"So we will see you there," Henry says.  "We will cross there, too."

Thomas hugs his father long and hard, then gives a quick hug for everyone else, including Joseph.  "Get over that cold soon, little brother," he says squeezing his shoulder.

William says, "Father, could we walk with Thomas to Willow Springs?  Thomas tells us that there is a small store there that might purchase our deer skins."

Henry steals a glance at Elizabeth, "Yes," he says.  "Be back before mid-afternoon so we don't worry about you."

"Mother?" William says.

"You read my mind, William.  Bring back a chicken if they have one."

"We will, Mother," William promises.  We go to the wagon and collect our deer skins.  William hands them to George, Ty and me to carry, and for some planned reason Thomas and William end up not carrying anything.

Willow Springs is more of a stagecoach station than a town.  We find the small general store and go in.  William and Thomas talk with the store clerk and I browse the shelves.  There are mostly food supplies, but also basic kitchen ware, and hanging by the front door there is a small assortment of pants, shirts and a full dress on a wooden mannequin.

William calls for us to hand over the deer skins and the clerk inspects them closely.  After a few minutes I see him exchange money for the skins.

"So, I guess the clerk wanted the skins," I say as William and Thomas join us.

"Yes.  In fact, he rates them to be of fairly high quality.  No penetrations, and he stated that we did an exemplary work tanning the hides."

"How much is a deer skin worth here in Willow Springs?"

"We made a great deal of a bargain," William smiles.  "The clerk gave us seventy five cents per skin, and strawberry ice cream for us five.  And he sold us one chicken."

"He wasn't set on paying so grand, at first," Thomas admits.  "Until I mentioned that the freight wagons would trade for more."

"That sounds great," I say.  Mostly I am thinking that the ice cream sounds great.  I have almost forgotten about William's addictive tendencies toward ice cream.

We move to the back of the store where there is a small parlor and take a seat.  After a few minutes the clerk brings us strawberry ice cream.  We laugh and talk while we eat cold, sweet and smooth dessert.  I feel a little guilty that we are enjoying ice cream in Willow Springs while Joseph is sick in bed.  At least his leg with the snake bite was doing better this morning before we left, so I let my guilt diffuse into the moment, and savor the rich, cold, creamy flavor.

Thomas tells us stories of driving the freight wagons and emphasizes how hard the work is.  Then he wants to know about our trip.  William tells him about fishing and hunting and the snake in the trail that upset the horse.

"But the fun thing we do while we walk is learn geometry," William says.  "Ty teaches us."

"I've been meaning to ask you, Ty," Thomas says.  "How did you join up with our family?"

"We had to hide somewhere after William and I …" Ty looks around and lowers his voice, "… help Jared escape from jail."

"You what?" Thomas exclaims. He looks at William.  "Does Pa know this?"

"Yes," William smiles."  Jared and Ty stowed away on our wagon, and even I did not know about it, but Pa caught them.  We told Pa the whole story about the fire and everything."

"Fire?" Thomas hisses quietly.

"Not a real fire," Ty inserts quickly.  "Just a lot of smoke."

William and Ty re-tell the whole story for Thomas and everyone laughs.  Thomas sort of shakes his head.

"Do I have to quit my job so I can keep you boys in line?" he laughs again.

"No," William says.  "Pa is doing that just fine."

We finish our ice cream and head back out onto the street.  The store clerk hands William a chicken that has its feet tied together.  William hands it to me.  "You get to carry this," William says.  "Don't make friends with it because it is going to be our dinner soon."

I frown and take the chicken.  Willow Springs is pretty quiet and the freight wagon is leaving soon, so Thomas says goodbye, again, and heads off to hitch up his wagon.  We decide to head back to our camp.  I'm happy about that because I'm carrying the chicken, and after a while it gets quite heavy.

"Hey, boys," Henry calls when he sees us from a block or two away.  "How is Willow Springs?"

"Not much activity in town," William replies.  "Most people must live out on a ranch.  The town is small and quiet."

"Did you find a store?"

"Oh, yes," William says.  "Nice little store near the stage station.  The clerk liked our deer skins and gave us seventy five cents each, plus some ice cream.  Here is the sale."  William puts some coins into Henry's hand.  "We bought the chicken for Mother from this money."

"Well, you boys did real fine," Henry says.

"How's Joseph?" William asks.

I've already spotted him curled up under a couple of blankets.

"His leg is recovering very well for such a close call with death.  He has developed a cold and a heavy cough that does not sound good.  His chest hurts and he has trouble breathing.  I'm worried about that cough.  I've seen chest colds like that turn bad quite fast."

"It's good that his leg is mending, "William smiles.  I can see a mask of concern sweep across his face.

I am still holding the chicken, so I walk over to Elizabeth and hold it out for her to take.

"Thank you, Jared," she says without taking it.  "It will do very nicely.  It looks to be a good size, too.  Bring it back when it is ready for cooking."

"Ready for cooking?" I ask.  "You mean … ?"

"Yes.  I mean plucked and everything.  That's a man's job.  And do a good job.  I want it ready to drop right into the pot, so be thorough."

"Okay," I say.  I walk over by William and set the chicken down on the ground.  Its feet are still tied so I know it won't go far on its own.

William looks at the chicken and then at me.  "Is Mother ready for it yet?" he asks.

"I actually don't know.  She didn't say.  She said to bring it back when it is ready for cooking."

"Come help me get it ready, then," William says.

"I think I will pass on this one," I say.  "I don't think I can do a butcher-the-chicken lesson today.  Just thinking about it makes me feel sick."

"You do look a little pale.  Maybe I'll ask Ty to help."

"Good idea," I say.  "Maybe I will go check on the horse and oxen."

William gives me that you-are-nutso look and shrugs his shoulders as I walk away. 
Maybe I'll go measure a tree or something.  I just don't want to be here for any chicken lessons.

As I walk past Joseph I see him curled up under two blankets.  "Are you okay, Joseph?" I ask.

"Yes," he answers.  "But I'm cold.  Can you get me another blanket?"

"Sure," I say.  I put the back of my hand on his forehead.  His head feels warm like a section of wood on the wagon where the sun has been shining.  "Your head feels a little too warm," I say, feeling my own forehead for comparison.

"The rest of me feels cold," Joseph coughs hard into his hand as Henry walks up.  We both see red on Joseph's hand as he wipes it onto his shirt.

"Blood," Henry states, his face set with concern.

"And he may have a fever," I say quietly.  "At least he has the chills and his head feels warm."

Henry already has his hand on Joseph's forehead.  He nods agreement.  Henry leaves and in a couple of minutes returns with several wet towels.

"Joseph," Henry says, calmly pulling the blanket down off of Joseph's head.  "I know you are cold, but it is because you have a fever.  We need to cool your fever down.  Too high of a fever is not good for you."

"I'm really cold, Father," Joseph whines and coughs, wheezing for air.

"I know you are," Henry agrees.  "But I'm going to put a wet towel on your forehead to cool your fever."

Joseph's entire body shudders and his teeth chatter as Henry places the first air-cooled towel across his forehead.

"It's … s … co … cold," Joseph coughs and shakes so hard that I want to cry.  He clutches his chest and coughs again.

"I'm making chicken soup," Elizabeth announces to Joseph as she walks up to his bed and kneels down next to him.

"That … s … s … sounds great," Joseph chatters.

Elizabeth runs her fingers through his hair.  "We've got to get your fever down a little bit, so be brave, my Joseph."

I scoot out of the way to make more room for Elizabeth and Henry and I go talk with Ty.

"How was the butcher-the-chicken lesson?" I ask, not really wanting to know.

"How's Joseph?" Ty asks, ignoring my question completely.  That's okay, though, since I sort of pushed that chicken job off to him.

"Sick," I answer.  "He's got the chills and a fever, he has a serious cough in his chest, and he's coughing up blood.  He's sick."

"Are his lips blue?" Ty asks quietly.

"Yes, of course they are.  He's freezing cold."

"He's not freezing.  He has a fever.  He has cyanosis because his blood is not oxygenated enough.  That's cyanosis … blue lips."

"Oh … because …"

"Because he can't breath," Ty says, keeping his voice down.  "Look, I'm no doctor, but my guess is pneumonia.  In our world he would be in a hospital, taking antibiotics.  Maybe on a respirator.  But that's not going to happen because penicillin hasn't even been discovered yet!"
[91]

I turned away and blinked back a couple of tears that were squeezing out of my eyes like drips from a leaky faucet.  Turning back I say, "So, what do we do?"

"Jared, I told you, I'm not a doctor.  I happen to know stuff because I read a lot.  All I know is that without antibiotics, pneumonia is, and always has been, a killer."

I walk away angry. 
How could you say that?  How could you say that about Joseph? … About Joseph who we love? 
I am angry that Joseph got sick.  I am angry at the snake that bit Joseph.  I am angry, and so I leave camp and I run.  I run to the top of a small, nearby hill and, totally out of breath, I sit on a rock to rest. As oxygen fills my lungs and my heavy breathing subsides, so does my anger.

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