My Children Are More Precious Than Gold (4 page)

“
Hey, youngun! What can I
do fer you?” Doc greeted, wiping his mouth on a napkin.

“
My baby sister, Lydia,
has been sick fer a spell. Mama sent me to fetch y'all to come look
at her,” Sid explained.

Doc stood up. “All right. You warm up
while I hitch the horse up to the buggy and bring it around front.
I been thinken it is about time to pay a call out yer way to see
how yer paw's leg is comen anyway.”

“
How about a bite to eat
while you’re waiting? There's plenty left.” Mrs. Jensen smiled
warmly at Sid as she pointed at the half full, china bowls on the
table.

“
Oh no, thanks. I don't
want to be any trouble,” Sid answered politely, even though his
stomach did flip flops at the sight of fried potatoes, green beans,
and slices of beef roast swimming in broth sitting beside a platter
of golden corn bread.

“
Nonsense! Sit down and
eat,” Mrs. Jensen ordered jovially, seeing a look of hunger on the
young man’s face. She pulled a chair away from the table, put her
hands on Sid’s shoulders and pushed him into it. Then she slid a
plate and fork in front of him.

Mrs. Jensen eased her wide hips into a
chair on the opposite side of the table. While she passed Sid
bowls, she questioned him about his family and other people living
on the neighboring ridges.

Sid answered her questions between
bites and had just finished eating when the doctor stuck his head
in the front door. “Son, you ready?”

“
Yep. Much oblige for the
vitals, Misses. Sid said, tipping his hat to her when he got up
from the table.

“
You're quite welcome.
Tell your family hey for me,” Mrs. Jensen called after
him.

Slipping Major’s reins from the hitch
rack, Sid tied him behind the buggy and gladly climbed in beside
the doctor. The long ride back would pass faster with the doctor to
make conversation with. Besides, riding in the protected buggy had
to be a sight warmer and more comfortable than plodding along on
that old hard stepping, work horse.

When they rode passed the
town square, Sid observed a crowd gathered on a corner. He heard a
street preacher's raised voice yelling his sermon in the middle of
the swarm of people. All that was visible of the preacher was his
black bowler hat atop his head, bobbing above the crowd and one
hand stretched high in the air, waving a bible. People answered
with shouts of amen. The sound of their loud voices traveled after
the doctor's buggy down the street. Then the same loud voices
raised in song, singing the hymn
Steal
Away To Jesus.

The sun was sinking in the west behind
the ridge when Doctor Jensen stopped his buggy at the Bishop
hitching post. He stretched his long, skinny legs out of the buggy
until his feet touched the ground. He heard as well as felt the
loud pop of a knee joint. “Long, cold rides seem to stiffen me up
more than they use to. Reckon I'm getten old,” he mumbled as he
rubbed his knee.

“
I'll tie up yer horse,
Doc. Before I come in I'll give him a drink and a feed bag of
grain,” Sid offered, feeling sorry for this kindly man who helped
so many people.

“
Thank y'all kindly, son,”
Doc answered over his shoulder. “Afternoon, Nannie,” he greeted,
ducking to enter through the doorway. “Where's that sick youngun
Sid's been telling me about?”

“
Over by the fireplace,
Doc,” Nannie said, leading him to the child's pallet.

The other children gathered around to
watch. The doctor, from a side view, always reminded Bess of the
pictures of Abe Lincoln that hung on the wall of the school house.
The doctor didn't have the most comely face in those parts, but one
covered with goodness.

“
Younguns, give Doc some
breathen room,” Nannie scolded. “Cass, and Bess, start supper so
Doc can eat afore he leaves and put on a fresh pot of coffee. Alma,
ya can hep the girls. The rest of ya younguns --
skedaddle!”

“
Well, well, Lydia, not
feelen too good, huh?” Doc’s voice sounded soothing while he helped
the little girl sit up. Trying not to breath deeply, he wrinkled
his nose at the stench he stirred up from the asphidity bag filled
with dried polk, garlic, spearmint, onions and skunk grease tied
around the girl's neck.

“
No,” Lydia uttered,
coughing weakly.

Doc reached in his medical bag for his
stethoscope. He moved it over Lydia's chest. He held his hand on
her frail chest to keep her upright when she wobbled so he could
lay his ear against her back. He listened intently. Finally, he
gently lowered the girl back down on her pallet and felt her clammy
forehead.

“
Y'all just rest now,
little one. I'll leave some medicine for ya with yer mama. If you
take it like a good girl, y'all be better in no time. How about
that?”

“
Fine, I reckon,” Lydia
whispered, exhausted from the effort of sitting up.

“
Nannie, I'll leave a
bottle of bitters to give her.” Doc reached into his black bag for
a small, round, brown bottle and a square one, “And some cough
medicine. Keep tryen to get liquids and food down her to build up
her strength. She's weak from the fever and from not eaten. Now,
Jacob, how is that leg of yours comen along?”

“
Fine, Doc, but it sure
itches a plenty,” Jacob complained.

“
That's a good sign,
Jacob. That means yer leg is healen. Nannie did a good job of
setten that bone so just be patient a while longer. I'll check it
for you when I come back out to see Lydia again.”

“
Doc,” Nannie began
softly, trying to keep the children from hearing, “What's our
little girl got? This ain't jest the grip elsen the other younguns
would have come down with it by now.”

“
No, Nannie, it's not the
grip. At one time, she may of had a light case of that all right,
but I'm afraid she has St. Vitus's Dance.”

“
What's that?” Asked
Jacob.

“
Have you noticed that her
face twitches when she's awake, and that she seemed to tire out
easier than afore she was sick?” Doc asked.

“
Yep,” Nannie nodded, “But
I figured it was cause she was jest comen down with somethin, and
she did jest that.”

“
Well, she may always have
that nervousness that causes her face or hands to twitch especially
when she gets excited. There's no medicine for the
twitch.”

“
What causes this here St.
-- St. -- Dance?” Stuttered Jacob.

“
I'm getten to that,
Jacob,” Doc paused. When Nannie and Jacob saw the sad expression
cross the doctor's face as he hesitated, they look at each other
with concern. “That little girl's real problem is her heart. Her
heart has a leakage that causes her to be weak. When she gets sick,
it affects her heart worse.”

“
Her heart? What can we do
fer her, Doc?” Nannie looked in the direction of her sick little
girl, trying to absorb what she had heard and then back at the
doctor.

“
Just keep nursen her,
Nannie. With the medicine I'm giving ya and her being as young as
she is, Lord willing, she'll get over feelen so weak. Though I warn
y'all it will take time. Ya should watch her from now on so she
doesn't get too tired. She will need plenty of rest each
day.”

“
Doc, will her heart get
better?” Jacob shot a concerned glance at his resting
child.

“
No, Jacob. Her heart
can't mend. The older she gets, the more strain there will be on
it,” Doc said.

“
Doc, are ya tellen us
Lydia is goen to die?” Nannie looked away to hide the tears she
felt welling up in her eyes.

“
Now, Nannie, we cain't
tell about when that's goen to happen.” Doc placed his hand on her
shoulder. “Just try to keep her well and happy for as long as she's
got. That's all ya can do, and call me any time y'all need
me.”

“
I see. Thank ye, Doc.”
Suddenly, Nannie felt the need to be busy. “We'll have the meal on
the table soon so y'all can eat afore ya all leave. Girls, how's
that supper comen?”

“
Doc, we appreciate yer
hep. Will a chicken and some tators or turnips do fer pay? Not much
else left til spring,” Jacob said, his head bowed.

“
That's fine, Jacob. Been
a spell since the Misses and me had fresh fried chicken. Sounds
good!” Doc exclaimed. He turned his attention to the children
gathering around him. “Well, younguns, how did the winter treat
you?” To their delight, the doctor gave each of them a pat on the
head and a personal examination before he looked at Jacob’s
leg.

Chapter 3

Blue Ridge Spring

Alerted by the creaks and groans of an
approaching buggy, Jacob hurried over to open the kitchen door.
Impatiently, he watched Doc Jensen descend and stretch before he
tied his horse to the hitch rack.

“
Mornen, Doc. Come on it.
I fer one sure am glad to see y'all,” Jacob greeted heartily as he
hobbled out of the doorway to let the doctor duck
inside.

“
Did I see you putten
weight on that leg, Jacob?” Doc admonished, shaking a finger in
Jacob’s direction.

“
Reckon, Doc, just a
little. Just testen it,” defended Jacob.

Hearing a rustling sound, Doc turned
to see Nannie standing in the bedroom door. “Hey, Nannie, nice day,
ain't it?”

“
Sure is, Doc, now that
yer here,” interrupted Jacob.

“
Mornen, Doc,” Nannie
greeted and smiled. She realized how eager Jacob was to get the
splint off his leg. She was more concerned for her child at the
moment than her husband so she turned to Lydia lying by the
fireplace. “Lydia, look who's here to see y'all. Doc, she's been
right lonesome since the other younguns went back to
school.”

Lydia sat up on her pallet, and
propped herself against a chair leg before she answered. “Hey.” She
smiled weakly at him.

“
Hey, yerself, youngun,”
said Doc, grinning at the little girl as a feeling of sadness ached
in him at the sight of her.

He could see the little girl was even
thinner than she had been on his last visit. Lydia dark brown eyes
appeared larger then they really were, set in their sunken sockets
above the skin tight framework of her sallow cheeks. Her short
cropped, dark brown hair, shaped in a bowl cut, had thinned until
the white of her scalp showed through in places.

“
Well, let’s check ya
over, youngun.” Doc Jensen knelled down beside her and pulled her
away from the chair, placing his large hand on her chest to steady
her while he listened with his stethoscope to her back. “Breathe
deep, Lydia. That's a girl.” Gently, he leaned her back against the
chair, stood up, and turned to find Jacob and Nannie standing right
behind him. “Folks, Lydia's lungs sound much better. She’s just
weak. Keep feeden her all she'll eat and get her up each day to
walk around some. She will feel better when she can get some fresh
air and sunshine after the weather warms up enough that she can
stand being outside. Now, Jacob, you’re making me nervous hoveren
over me. Let me check that leg. Go sit down by the
table.”

Jacob plopped down in a chair. He
stretched his splinted leg out in front of him. The doctor placed
his bag on the table and opened it. He reached in for a knife and
cut away the bandages. The kindling sticks clattered to the floor
among the dingy strips of once white cloth, exposing the pale,
white flesh of Jacob's right leg.

As the doctor pushed on the mended
spot, ne asked, “Does that hurt, Jacob?”

Jacob winced. “Still feels tender,
Doc.”

“
The break looks to be
mended. Just keep putten a little more weight on that leg each day.
When it hurts, rest a spell. You're not hiken down to the river any
time soon, but that time will come. Do you have any of Genon Mitt's
bamhegillie salve? The skin on yer leg is flaky and dry. Y'all need
to rub some salve on that leg for the itching.”

“
Why, Doc, thought ya
would be again usen Genon's home remedy medicines,” teased
Jacob.

“
That ole witch of a
midwife's all right in her place,” the doctor said brusquely, “I
wouldn't exactly call what she gives folks medicine. Usen
bamhegillie salve for a liniment works as good on horses as it does
people, Jacob, and y'all know that.”

Nannie handed the men coffee. “Doc,
tell us what ya think about Lydia.”

“
Nannie, she's got to mend
at her own speed just like Jacob’s leg. When the weather warms up
in the afternoons, get her out on the porch in the sunlight, but
don't let her over do. There isn’t any reason for me to make
another call unless ya send for me. I’d tell the other younguns if
I were you about Lydia's heart so they can help ya watch out for
her. If they know they will not tire her out.”

“
We'll do that, Doc,”
Nannie agreed. “Now drink that coffee afore it gets
cold.”

At school that morning, Bess tired in
a hurry of concentrating on arithmetic problems. She laid down the
slate and chalk on her desk. While she gazed out the sun drenched
window beside her, she felt the warmth of the golden rays, dancing
on her and the other children seated along the school room's wall
of windows. Impatiently patting her bare foot on the floor, she
wished to be outside, enjoying the day.