Arrival of the Prophecy (37 page)

“What in tarnation’s
goin
’ on in…?” That was
all he managed to say. The second he saw me, he put his hand to my head.

“Myrtle, send Sam Jr. into town and fetch Doc Taylor,” he instructed
her, then turned back to me. “What happened to you, child? You feel like you
caught
somethin
’?”

“I don’t know, Pa,” I said shakily. “I just feel a little weak. I’ll be
okay after breakfast.”

Ma left momentarily and came back with a cloth and basin of water. She
wet the cloth, and then tenderly started wiping down my face.

“She's burning up, Sam,” my mother said. “I think she's got the flu. Run
and get some more blankets out the closet, would
ya
?”

They were acting like I was on my deathbed. I didn’t feel
all that
bad, I just felt like I didn’t have much strength.

The doctor got there no more than an hour later and checked me from head
to toe. When he was done, he turned to my folks.

“We need to get her cooled down. Best get some ice from the icehouse,
Sam. And I need you to bring in all the clean sheets you have, and some more
water, if you would Mrs. Crocker.” As my mother was heading out the door, the
doctor called to her. “I think it might be best to send
the
youngens
over to the Miller’s farm for a few days,
just in case this is scarlet fever.” That’s when my mother really started to
cry. Not many made it with scarlet fever, and they all knew it.

*****

Later that afternoon, the doctor stopped back by to bring my mother some
salve to rub on me in case I started getting the infamous red spots that are
well known with scarlet fever. He gave me the once-over again and rubbed his
head.

“Mrs. Crocker, I just don’t understand. It
ain’t
like nothing I’ve seen before.”

“Doc, please just tell us,” she pleaded. “She's my oldest, and I
ain’t
looking to lose her.” She desperately covered her
mouth with her hands, and practically screamed into them, asking, “Is it
scarlet fever or not?”

“I don’t see
no
signs of scarlet in her skin,
and other than her being weak she seems fine,” the doctor replied slowly
shaking his head.
 

My mother fell to her knees and cried, until my father went over, took
her up under the arm, and sat her in the rocker. The doctor asked my folks if I
had been asking for lots of water, and both said no.

“So what is it, Doc? She can’t look that way, and not be able to get up,
if
somethin
’
ain’t
wrong,”
my father exclaimed, standing up staring the doctor square in the eye, angrily.
“You best not be wrong about this, when you could be
treatin
’
her the way you should.”

Doc Taylor almost fell over the table, then tripped on his case, and
ended up on his backside on the floor. He, just like everybody in the area,
knew not to piss off Sam Crocker. He pulled himself up using the side of the
table, while my father stood watching, growing angrier by the second.

”Mr. Crocker…I truly
ain’t
never seen
nothin
’ like it.” Seeing that it wasn’t enough to satisfy
my father, he continued. “Tell you what I'm
gonna
do.
I'll call Doc
Macaphee
over in Brown County, see if
he won’t come up and take a look.”

“I think that's the best I heard out of
ya
yet,” my mother said, and with that she got up and came to my side.

He and my father spoke for a while longer,
then
the doctor was gone. It was getting late, so everybody that was still at the
house—my parents and Sam Jr.—started getting ready for bed. No one asked for
supper that night. I know they were all worried about me. Mother came in to see
if there was anything she could get me before she went on to bed, but all I
wanted was to just fall asleep. I was so tired, my eyes shut as she was
talking, and I don’t even remember answering her. Sleep had already taken me,
and the dream world was slipping in.

I don’t know what woke me, but when I opened my eyes, Martin was
standing there with his hand extended in front of him, as if waiting for me to
reach for it. I started to say something, but like a flash, he had his hand on
my mouth with his finger to his lips letting me know to be quiet. He helped me
sit up. Then, he very gently put my blanket over my shoulders and picked me up
in his arms. I laid my head on his shoulder, and he carried me out of the
house. I couldn’t even hear his footsteps, because he walked like he was as
light as a feather, even with me in his arms. My mind swam with questions that
I couldn’t answer. I kept asking myself,
where
are we going? Why is it that I can’t say no to this man?
All I wanted at
that moment was for him to never let me go, to hold me so close that we would
melt into one. It wasn’t long until he sat down on a log out by the field, with
me in his lap. I looked into his eyes and felt a heat rise from inside me that
I had never felt, so intense that my mouth suddenly became dry.

“I have longed for the hour that I could return to you, Renee. There are
things I must know,” Martin said, looking at me passionately.

I rose in his arms, and kissed his forehead. How was it that in two
nights, I could want him so badly, maybe even
love
him?

“What is it that you need to know?” I asked.

"Would you leave your family for me?” he asked, pausing
momentarily. “Never to return?”

“Of course not,” I sat there stunned for a moment. “They need me, and I
love them more than my own life.”

“That displeases me so,” he whispered, frowning down at me. “Renee, you
will be mine even if it be against your will. I will be able to explain more of
my meaning in the next few nights. You will understand more of this…I promise.”

I put my hand on his chest, leaning back to look him directly in the
eyes and just as I started to protest, my body went limp and darkness was with
me once more.

*****

The next morning, I awoke to my mother standing over me, crying. Next to
her was a man I had never met.

“Doc
Macaphee
, what do you think is wrong with
her?” my father asked the unfamiliar man.

“To tell you the truth, Mr. Crocker, I just don’t know. I can tell you
for sure it’s
not
scarlet fever,” he
answered.

My father walked over and tried to comfort my mother, while the doctor
began removing items from his bag. “Myrtle, why don’t you go down and make the
doc and me a pot of coffee?” he asked. Her eyes quickly darted back to me, and
it was obvious that she didn’t want to leave. However, she was not the kind of
woman to question her husband’s wishes, so she simply nodded and slowly left my
room. My father then turned and watched Doc
Macaphee
examine me. As he pulled down my lower eyelid and peered into it, he asked my
father, “When was the last time she ate?”

“Well, we got some tea down her yesterday, but that was all she’d take.”

“In all my time, I
ain’t
never seen nothing
that would turn a healthy young lady
into a full blown anemic in two days’ time. Especially not one that was up and
around just days ago,” the doc said, as he continued his exam.

“So, how can we fix her, Doc?” he pleaded more with his eyes than his
words. “My girl can’t even talk. She’s worse now than she was yesterday.”

“I would say to take her on into the Brownwood hospital,” Doc
Macaphee
sighed heavily. “But I really don’t think she’d make
it.”

“And if we just sit here and do nothing? You want us to not even try?”
my father said just a little too loud, and my mother came rushing back into the
room, wanting to know what was going on.

“If she makes it through the rest of the day and starts looking better,
then we’ll take her on in, first thing in the morning,” the doc said. My father
nodded hesitantly, although he still wasn’t pleased. It was about that time
that I began to stir. My mother came and sat next to me on my bed.

“What’s the matter baby? You
hurtin
’?” she
asked. I shook my head, but touched my lips with my hand.

“You thirsty?” the doctor asked. “
Wanna
try
some tea?”

I nodded the best I could. What was going on? I was so weak that I could
hardly move. I wanted to ask these questions badly, but I couldn’t speak, no
matter how hard I tried. As my mother was walking toward me with a cup in her
hand, the doctor stopped her.

“Little bit of Laudanum will help her rest,” he said, mixing the
substance into the cup of tea.

With her help, I managed to get down more than half the cup, and quickly
began feeling the effects of the drug. The last thing I remember was the doctor
gathering his supplies, and my father stepping out to smoke his pipe.

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