The Great Trouble (18 page)

“She’s strong, Mr. Baker,” I told him. “She’ll make it.”

Florrie’s face was as white as paper, but her skin didn’t have that awful blue tinge I’d seen on Mr. Griggs and Bernie. That gave me real hope.

“Hullo, Eel. Sorry I missed you yesterday,” she said weakly, holding out her hand to me. “I missed a lot this week, once Mum took sick.…”

Her voice trailed off and she began to cry.

“I’m so sorry, Florrie.” I squeezed her hand gently.

After a while Florrie said, “It’s Thursday, ain’t it? You know, all the time I was sick, I kept thinking that even if I died, you’d be helping Dr. Snow.”

Her eyes looked enormous in her thin face. “And did you, Eel? Did you and Dr. Snow solve the mystery?”

“We did. But it’s a long story. It starts even before I knew you,” I said.

“Tell me everything!”

I told Florrie about meeting Gus on her doorstep, and how he’d given me the clue to the unexpected case. I told her about going to Hampstead with Dilly to track down the story of the Widow Eley. I explained about Islington too, and how Mrs. Eley’s niece had been the only case of cholera in her neighborhood.

Then I let on about Henry, and how I’d been keeping him secret all these months. And that led to telling Florrie how Fisheye Bill Tyler had snatched me, and how everything seemed lost until Thumbless Jake rescued me. Finally I got to the part where we’d met Betsy and her aunt near Lant Street, and how Mr. Griggs had been right all along about Dilly. She did have a good sense of direction.

“What happened then?” Florrie wanted to know. “What about tonight? Tell me!”

And so I did.

We had all piled into the cab together—me and Betsy and Dilly, Thumbless Jake, and even Betsy’s aunt, whose name turned out to be Mrs. Edith Flanders.

The cab rocked so hard that Dilly got scared and began whining and trying to sit on my lap. Her nails scraped my
legs. Betsy giggled, which set off Thumbless Jake, who made a great huffing sound. I’d never heard him laugh before.

Mr. Flanders, the cabbie, was known as Figgie—leastwise that’s what Betsy’s aunt called him. He drove his horse wildly across Waterloo Bridge. Betsy’s aunt kept hollering out the cab window, “Faster, Figgie! You can do it!”

This last part made Florrie’s eyes sparkle.

“Somehow we arrived without tipping over,” I said. “Dr. Snow was standing in front of a table with several men sitting there. That was the board of governors. I didn’t know any of ’em from the neighborhood. But they sure seemed old and dignified, with white hair and whiskers and solemn expressions.

“First thing I heard when I come in was Dr. Snow talking in that strange, husky voice he has. He had our map out, and I expect he was goin’ on about ‘the mode of communication of cholera’ and suchlike.”

I explained how we’d added a little mark on the map for each person who died, and how it was clear that those marks were all clustered round the Broad Street pump, and how this showed that the water—not the air—was the cause of the disease.

“Did they believe him, Eel?” Florrie whispered.

I shook my head. “No, they did not. I could tell from their questions they weren’t convinced. Leastwise not convinced enough to cause disruption to the neighborhood by taking away one of folks’ favorite sources of water.”

“So what did you do?”

“I was in the doorway, on account of I’d leaped from the cab and come in first. And I was just listening quietly when suddenly everyone else burst in behind me: Betsy, and her uncle and aunt, and Dilly, and Thumbless Jake from the river.” I laughed at the memory of it and held my nose. “You can imagine that Jake sure got everyone’s attention. Every head turned to look at us.

“ ‘What’s the meaning of this?’ demanded the gentleman in charge.

“I could tell that Dr. Snow was too shocked to say a word. And so was Reverend Whitehead, who was there too. So it was up to me,” I told Florrie.

“Dilly and I strode right up to stand beside Dr. Snow. ‘I’m Dr. Snow’s assistant,’ I announced. ‘I’m called Eel. And Piccadilly, that’s my dog here, she and I have tracked down an unexpected case that will prove Dr. Snow’s theory. And if you will bear with me, sirs, I believe we can convince you to take the handle off the Broad Street pump so no more people get sick.’ ”

“My goodness, you must’ve sounded like a gentleman’s son!” Florrie clapped her hands in delight. “What did they say then?”

“You could’ve heard a pin drop, it was that quiet. One of the men on the committee turned to Dr. Snow and said, very gruff and annoyed, ‘Dr. Snow, is what this urchin says true? Are you making a mockery of our proceedings?’

“ ‘No, sir, not at all. I suggest we listen to this boy’s report,’
Dr. Snow replied, all calm. ‘I, for one, am eager to hear it.’

“So I told them how I’d learned yesterday morning that a widow from Hampstead named Susannah Eley had been getting water from the Broad Street pump every day.

“ ‘A boy named Gus from the Eley Brothers factory would take it to her in a little cart several times a week,’ I testified. ‘I myself witnessed him drawing that water on the morning of Monday, August 28, from the Broad Street pump.’ ”

“That’s right,” exclaimed Florrie. “We were there, weren’t we? It was the day you found Queenie.”

“Yes, and so when I saw Gus on your doorstep yesterday, I remembered that. And then he told me the woman had died last Saturday from the cholera,” I explained.

“Go on, then. What happened next?”

I laughed. “Well, at that point Thumbless Jake starts making a ruckus in the back of the room, jabbing Betsy’s uncle in the ribs.

“ ‘Will you listen to that boy?’ he boomed. ‘Used to be a mudlark, he did. But I helped give him a new start in life. And now he sounds as grand as a doctor himself.’ ”

Florrie was laughing so hard tears streamed down her cheeks. “Go on.”

“By this time the committee chair was red in the face. He jumps up, yelling, ‘Order! Order in this meeting, please!’

“But then Dr. Snow starts talking too, all excited
because he’s so eager to hear about the unexpected case I found. ‘Please, gentlemen! Let the boy speak.’ And he motions for me to keep talking.”

I paused to take a breath. “Here, Florrie, I’ll pretend I’m giving the speech all over again.”

I stood up and gave a little bow. “This is what I said:

“ ‘I am sorry for the interruption, sir. But when I heard about the Widow Eley, I decided to investigate for myself. I walked to Hampstead with Dilly here, and I found out that Susannah Eley had indeed died from cholera after drinking the water Gus brought her from the Broad Street pump.

“ ‘Not only that, she was the only death from cholera in the neighborhood, which I think Dr. Snow will be able to confirm with the General Register Office.’ ”

I stopped to take a breath. Florrie nodded for me to keep talking.

“ ‘And that’s not all. I found out from a servant in Mrs. Eley’s house that her niece had been visiting and had also drunk the water. So after leaving Hampstead, I walked to the neighborhood of Islington. I found the niece’s house and confirmed that, once again, this death from cholera was the only one in the neighborhood.

“ ‘I believe, sirs, that this evidence supports Dr. Snow’s theory that cholera is spread by water—in this case, water from the Broad Street pump. And I hope you will agree to his request to remove the handle to protect the people of Golden Square, so that no more of my friends and neighbors will die.’ ”

I stopped, out of breath, just as I had been at the meeting. “I never made such a long speech in my life, Florrie. I tell you that by the time I was done, my legs were shaking. It was a good thing Dr. Snow came over and put his arm around my shoulders, or else I might have collapsed right there.”

“And did they believe you?” Florrie asked. “Are they going to take the handle off?”

“It will happen tomorrow morning at ten,” I told her. “If you are better, Danny and I will carry you down the street to see it happen. And before you know it, we’ll be sittin’ in the sun, eating hard-boiled eggs.

“Mrs. Gaskell has a new novel, called
North and South
, which will come out a bit at a time in the
Household Words
magazine. I hear it’s got a girl heroine in it—someone brave like you. We can read it together.”

“I’m not brave at all. I’m still awful scared,” Florrie admitted.

“You’re gonna make it,” I promised her. “Tell me you believe it.”

“I do. I believe we’ll soon be sittin’ in the sunshine, reading and eating hard-boiled eggs.”

Florrie’s father came to the doorway and cleared his throat. “It’s time, son. Let her rest.”

“I’ll come back in the morning.”

“I’ll be here waiting.”

And then I leaned over and touched her forehead with a kiss.

Friday, September 8

“Remember this day, lad,” said Dr. Snow as we pushed our way through the crowds on Regent Street the next morning. I could hear the excitement in his voice.

“Today we are using science—not superstition—to stop the spread of disease. You and I may not live to see the day, and my name may be forgotten when it comes, but the time will arrive when great outbreaks of cholera will be things of the past,” he declared. “And it is the knowledge of the way in which the disease is propagated which will cause them to disappear.”

I didn’t say anything for a while. I was too busy repeating his words to myself so I could remember them always.

When we got near Broad Street, I asked, “Dr. Snow, do I have time to stop by Florrie’s house to look in on her?”

Dr. Snow waved a hand. “Don’t be late.”

Danny came to the door. For a minute I stood frozen, afraid.

“Don’t look like that,” I cried.

“She took a turn for the worse around midnight.” He rubbed his eyes. Had he been crying? “I don’t mind telling you we were all scared.”

“And now?” I said urgently. “Is Florrie all right now?”

“Yes, she’s much better. Drank a lot of water, which seemed to help. Not from the Broad Street pump, of course. Said she was starting to feel like herself again.”

“Then why are you rubbing your eyes?” I demanded, wanting to shake him. “Why do you look so awful?”

“Sleeping,” he muttered. “All of us were sleeping for the first time in days when you come along and started banging on the door. You woke me up. Go away, Eel. Come back later.”

He was just about to close the door when he stopped. “Oh, wait a minute. Florrie made something for you.”

He disappeared for a moment, then returned, holding out a sheet of paper.

“She did it after you left last night, when she wasn’t sure if she’d make it or not. Made me promise to give it to you.
She said today is special or something and that you’d know what she means.”

“I do know,” I said, taking the paper.

It was a simple pencil sketch. Florrie had drawn the Broad Street pump. She had drawn it without the handle. And on the bottom she had scribbled the date:
September 8, 1854
.

Danny yawned and disappeared inside.

I stood on the doorstep with the sketch in my hand and laughed out loud.

“Did you hear that, Dilly? Florrie’s getting better!”

I looked around the small crowd. Dr. Snow had worked so hard for this moment. I had too. Florrie believed in what we were doing. Hundreds of people had died already because of the water from this pump. But the folks standing around us that day weren’t convinced.

“This ’ere water is a far sight cleaner than the disgusting liquid in the cistern by my house,” said one man behind me.

Another called out, “Who come up with this crazy idea? There ain’t nothin’ wrong with the Broad Street pump. It’s the bad air makin’ us sick. Can’t the committee do something about that?”

I searched for familiar faces—and to my surprise, I saw Mr. Edward Huggins and Abel Cooper standing together in the back of the crowd. I gulped. Mr. Edward caught my eye and beckoned me over to him.

“My brother told me he dismissed you for stealing last week, young man,” he said sternly. “I must say I am very disappointed.”

“I didn’t steal anything, Mr. Huggins,” I said, raising my chin to look him in the eyes. “But … I couldn’t get Mr. Griggs to vouch for me, on account of he got sick.”

“You didn’t bother coming back to defend yourself, though, did you?” Abel Cooper put in. “You just up and took off, and left me with that cat.”

I took a deep breath. I’d made up my mind to tell them the truth, but now that the time had come, it was harder than I expected.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Cooper. And I apologize to you, Mr. Huggins,” I said. “I was scared. And … I thought it wouldn’t do any good, especially once I knew Mr. Griggs wouldn’t be able to speak up for me. I figured it would just be Hugz—uh, Herbert’s word against mine.”

“So you assumed I too would think you guilty?” Mr. Edward asked.

“But—but don’t you, sir?” I stammered.

“That depends, lad, on what account you have to give of yourself.” Mr. Edward nodded toward Dr. Snow. “You may not have seen me, but I’ve watched you this week from my office.”

I gulped and stared down at my feet, afraid of what he might say next.

“Look at me, lad.”

My head shot up.

“I saw you helping families and the coffin man. I saw you walking the streets with Dr. Snow. I was even there in the back at the committee meeting,” said Mr. Edward. He chuckled and shook his head. “Now that’s something I’ll not soon forget—smell and all.”

I noticed that the corner of his mouth was twitching. Mr. Edward, I realized, was trying not to laugh.

“So, Eel, when this is over, come see me. I don’t know that I can get you your situation back,” he said. “My older brother is a stubborn man, and I’m not sure I want to subject a good-hearted lad like you to the companionship of my nephew again. But perhaps I can help you in some way.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said. “Thank you very much, Mr. Huggins.”

Abel Cooper clapped me on the back, a wide grin on his face. “But don’t get any ideas of taking your cat back, son. Queenie is my girl now.”