Spring Will Come (38 page)

             
“Why the heavy look?” Janie asked. 

             
“I’m just realizing human nature is a very difficult thing to escape.  We can be self-righteous - or realize much of what we hate in others is what we have inside ourselves.”

             
“Kind of dissolves your anger, doesn’t it?” Pastor Anthony said.

             
“Yes, it does,” Carrie agreed, a little stunned by her own thoughts.  She looked at the pastor.  “I guess it’s easier to give when we’re not so busy condemning the other fellow.”

             
“Sure does free up a lot of energy,” he agreed with a smile. 

             
Carrie laughed suddenly, feeling a burden lift from her heart.  She may have to learn this lesson over and over, but she felt as if she had been given a bird’s eye view on the human race.  She found people much easier to love from this angle. 

             
“Here’s my hospital,” Pastor Anthony announced suddenly.

             
Carrie looked up quickly.  She had been so absorbed in her own thoughts, she hadn’t been aware of her surroundings.  Now she looked around.  She remembered the street well.  It looked much the same, with men loitering around shabby buildings. Across the river she could catch glimpses of tents spreading out like a wave on Belle Island.  Her heart ached for the men living there as prisoners. 

             
Pastor Anthony led her and Janie into the ramshackle building.  Carrie stared around her.  The structure itself was not bad.  There were plenty of windows, and the ceilings were high enough to allow adequate circulation.   The rest of the conditions were appalling.  There was not a single bed in the place.  Rows of patients lay on coarse mattresses resting on the dirt floor.  Carrie hardly noticed the swarms of black flies - they had infiltrated the entire city. 

             
“Hello, Pastor Anthony,” a woman called, raising her hand in greeting.

             
Carrie suddenly noticed a number of women moving between the beds.

             
Pastor Anthony saw where she was looking.  “The women come to help whenever they can.  I’m afraid we have no regular nurses.”

             
Carrie shrugged.  “There are scores of hospitals and sick houses in the area that don’t have nurses.  It is impossible to meet the demand.”  She watched the women closely.  Their caring and tenderness were evident as they held water glasses and cooled hot faces with wet rags. 

             
“What illnesses do most of the patients have?”  Janie asked. 

             
“Mostly typhoid.  Some of the men have been hurt building fortifications.  A few have been injured working in the munitions plants.”

             
“No one offered them care?”  Carrie asked indignantly.

             
Pastor Anthony shook his head.  “If a slave is injured, the owner takes responsibility.  The patients here in the hospital are free blacks.”

             
Carrie looked again at the patients then turned to Pastor Anthony.  “What can we do to help?”

             
A great sigh of relief exploded from Pastor Anthony’s lips.  “Whatever you can,” he said helplessly, spreading his hands.  “You’re the doctor.”

             
Carrie opened her lips to contradict him then shut them again.  To a people with absolutely no medical care, she could be whatever they needed her to be.  There would be no one studying her credentials here.  The only thing they would be interested in was whether or not she could help them.  She turned to Janie with a question in her eyes.

             
Janie nodded.  “I can’t think of anything better to do with my spare time,” she said with a slight smile.  “I’m in this with you.”

             
Carrie smiled back and turned to the pastor.  “We’ll take a look at the patients now.  We’ll do what we can.  Chimborazo is still crowded, but the critical cases have stabilized.  We will have more free time - at least until the next battle.”

             
Carrie and Janie moved from patient to patient, examining them and talking with them quietly.  They met back at the front of the building.  “There’s not much wrong here that can’t be treated with the right medicines.  The people here seem to be suffering mostly from bad water and malnutrition,” Carrie observed.  Janie nodded her agreement.

             
Carrie called Pastor Anthony over.  “Do all of the people in your church have gardens?” she asked crisply.  When he shook his head, she continued.  “Well, they need to.  There is still time for some crops to be grown before summer is over.  Every single person in your church who has any land at all around their house should put a garden in. Greens will grow well into the fall.  Many of your patients are suffering from malnutrition.  They have no defenses to fight disease.  They need good food.”  She saw him open his mouth to interrupt but stopped him.  “I know good food is hard to come by because of the prices, but you simply must find a way.  These people are going to have to take care of themselves since there is no one else to do it.” 

             
Pastor Anthony nodded slowly, deep in thought.  “There is some land behind these buildings.  It is horribly overgrown, however.”

             
“Get people to clear it,” Carrie said firmly.  “Plant food everywhere you can find a place.”  She paused.  “I’m going to need about fifteen people for a day next week,” she continued. 

             
Pastor Anthony blinked but nodded again. 

             
“Have them bring bags.  I wish I could say there is medicine for these people, but the truth of the matter is there is a shortage in all the hospitals.  Even if I could get my hands on some, there is no money to pay for it.  We’ll make our own.”

             
“Make our own?”  Pastor Anthony echoed.

             
“Yes,” Carrie continued, blessing Old Sarah once again for all she had taught her.  “I’ll need to take the women out into the woods.  It’s not too late to gather herbs that will help with much of what ails these people.  In the meantime, I want you to make sure they all get plenty of fresh water.  There are wells that still have pure water.  They are not to drink anything that doesn’t come from those wells.”  She paused.  “One more thing.  I want every single piece of bedding in here washed in hot water.”  From the looks of things, it had been a long time since they had seen
any
water.

             
Pastor Anthony nodded yet again then turned to Janie.  “Should I salute?” he whispered. 

             
Carrie joined in the laughter but knew her orders would be followed.  “We’ll be back as soon as we can,” she promised.

             
Carrie and Janie stared at each other in excitement as they rode back toward the center of town.  

             
Janie was the first to speak.  “Can you believe it?” she finally said. 

             
Carrie shook her head.  There would be no medical school until after the war was over, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t help people now.  There would be no one staring over her shoulder as she tried to help the black people lying in that building.  Grim determination took hold of her.  It was up to her and Janie.  They would have to learn all they could - absorbing knowledge as they worked in Chimborazo and scouring all their medical journals.  The people in that hospital were counting on them.

Dinner was already on the table when Thomas strode in the door with a grim expression on his face.  He nodded to everyone
then settled himself in his chair.  “I’m sorry I’m late,” he said apologetically. 

             
“Bad news?” Carrie asked quietly.

             
“There will be another battle soon,” he said shortly.  “Forces are once more gathering at Manassas.  From what I hear, General Pope is much more forceful than McClellan.”

             
Carrie whitened but remained silent.  She would never get used to the idea of Robert in battle - she would never lose her fear of losing him - but expressing her fears served no purpose.  Fear was being shared by hundreds of thousands of women all over the country.  She had much to be thankful for.  At least they were only fears – not a reality.

             
Thomas shook his head.  “General Lee is an excellent commander.  Only time will tell,” he said with a heavy sigh.  “General Pope has an excellent record in the West.”

             
Carrie waited quietly, sure that her father had more to say. 

             
He finally looked up with a heavy sigh.  “General Cobb sent a message to Secretary of War Randolph.  As you know, he’s one of our nation’s most eminent political leaders.  The note was quite to the point.”  Thomas paused, remembering.  “It said,
‘This war must be closed in a few months, perhaps weeks, or else will be fought with increased energy and malignity on the part of our enemies.  I look for the latter result.’
”  He focused on Carrie again.  “I’m afraid I agree with him.”   His eyes darkened with anger.  “General Pope certainly has that attitude,” he said angrily. 

             
“What do you mean?” Carrie asked. 

             
“Evidently Pope has decided it is his job to teach the inhabitants of occupied Virginia that secession is a rocky road to travel.  I have seen a copy of his orders.  Citizens of occupied territory will be held responsible for all damage done by guerillas.  Any guerillas who are caught will be executed, along with those who aid them.  If shots are fired at Union soldiers from any house, that house will be destroyed and the people arrested.  Anyone they deem as disloyal will be driven outside the Union lines and will be treated as spies if they return.  If they choose to stay, they must take an oath of allegiance to the United States.  If they take it and then violate it, they will be shot!”  Thomas’ voice had been rising steadily.  It ended in a shout as he slammed his fist on the table.  “The man is a monster!” 

             
A long silence filled the room.  Carrie ached for her father but knew there was nothing she could do.  Except perhaps take his mind off it for a little while.   It was he who had told her that in order to win the war all other considerations must be put aside and the total energy of the country concentrated on victory.  Was that not what the North was doing?  She was quite sure he would not appreciate an objective viewpoint.

             
She had decided not to tell him about her confrontation with Louisa today.  She was also not going to tell him about her new work in the black hospital - not yet, at least.  He would only worry about her safety and it would also bring up uncomfortable questions about how she knew Pastor Anthony.  She searched for something to talk about. 

             
Janie saved her by reaching for a letter beside her plate.  “I received a long letter from home today,” she said.  She opened it up and read through some of it then looked up with a smile.  “This is the part I was looking for.”

             
“Heard from your sister in Alabama today.  You know there is a strong Union presence in her area.   She wrote and told me there has been great resistance by the people there.  Guerillas have been firing into Union trains as they go along the tracks through the forests.  The commander there finally got tired of it and ordered the arrest of ministers and other leading churchmen.  He puts one a day on the train to try to stop the guerillas.  Your sister says our men are wonderful shots, so they continue to shoot the Yankees while the pastors sit there unharmed.  I’m sure the Union commander is frustrated that his wonderful plan isn’t working.” 

             
Carrie smiled half-heartedly, unable to find any real humor in anyone else’s being shot.  “How long has it been since you’ve seen your family, Janie?” she asked even though she knew the answer.  She had watched Janie’s loneliness for her family grow in the last few months.

             
“Almost two years,” she admitted with a slight catch in her voice.