Part 3

Sally drew the curtain across the boy’s abdomen so that he couldn’t see below his chest. Then she took her station by Gene’s head. Smiling down at him, she tousled his hair. “Feel kind of sleepy, don’t you?” she asked.

“It still tickles,” Gene murmured.

On the other side of the curtain, Dr. Barsch had made the incision. He smiled and silently gave thanks for the anesthetic which made a deep abdominal wound feel like a tickle. But his smile disappeared when he reached the appendix.

“Oh, brother!” Ted said, shaking his head. Jean glanced at the open wound and began to sketch rapidly.

“Here’s one we caught just in time,” Dr. Barsch sighed. He spoke so low that Gene couldn’t hear him. “Look at that appendix. I’ll be lucky if I can get it out without breaking it. When, in heaven’s name, did you first see this boy?” he asked Ted.

Ted bit his lip. “Ten minutes before we came over. I didn’t even stop to do a blood count on him. Let’s not talk about it. I get cold shivers up and down my back when I think of how close his mother came to giving him something for his stomach ache instead of calling a doctor.”

Jean shuddered at the thought.

“It still tickles, doctor,” Gene said in a piping voice. “I’ll tell you when it stops.”

Jean grinned as she bent over her sketch.

“Something just stopped her,” Ted continued. “She called me instead. A hunch, she said.”

“God loves His small creatures,” Dr. Barsch replied. “All right, here we go.” He lifted the swollen appendix from the wound with great care. With a sigh of relief, he placed it carefully in a receptacle on the table. The distended organ broke as he laid it down.

“Ye Gods!” Ted said, turning white. “That’s the closest one I’ve ever seen!”

Dr. Barsch grinned as he started to sew up the incision. “It’s all over now, doctor. Gene, does it still tickle?”

“A little bit,” the boy answered. “Not much.”

“Good boy!” Dr. Barsch said. He finished his sewing and nodded. “What about now?”

“I don’t feel anything now,” Gene admitted. “You going to cut into my stomach now?” his face became tense with fear. Sally rubbed his forehead and grinned.

“Too bad, Gene,” she said. “You missed the show.”

Gene stared up at her. “What?” he asked.

Dr. Barsch dressed the wound and pulled the curtain aside. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“I’m ... I’m a little scared,” Gene admitted.

Dr. Barsch laughed. “We just played a dirty trick on you, son. Your operation’s all over.”

Sally gave the patient an injection, and he relaxed again.

“You’re going to sleep for a while now. And when you wake up, you’ll be back in your room with a sore tummy.”

Gene relaxed and slipped off to sleep as Sally and Helen wheeled him down the corridor.

Dr. Barsch slipped off his gloves and glanced at the broken appendix. He shook his head. “Get that to the lab right away,” he said. “Miss Hancock can take it down when she gets back. Miss Craig, you come on down to my office with me. I want to take a look at that sketch.”

When they reached Dr. Barsch’s office, Jean laid her sketch pad on the desk for Dr. Barsch to see. He picked it up and nodded.

“Sit down, Miss Craig. Dr. Loring will be down in a minute. I want him to have a look at this, too. Then we’ll get some coffee. I could use some.”

Jean smiled. “I’ll go down to the kitchen and get some while we’re waiting,” she offered. “You must be tired.”

Dr. Barsch waved his hand. “Sit down. The coffee can wait.” He tapped the sketch with his forefinger and looked at it thoughtfully for a moment. Then he searched among the papers on his desk for a letter. Finding it, he nodded his head as he read it over.

“I think maybe we’ve found a way to put your talents to practical use, Miss Craig,” he said slowly.

Jean jumped up. “Really?” she cried. “But how? I mean, I’m so far from ready to do anything useful with my art. Surgical art is such a specialized and highly skilled profession!”

The doctor nodded gravely. “Yes, it most certainly is,” he said thoughtfully. “And of course the sketch you did for us just now is still rather amateurish. But I was right about you, I think. It shows a great deal of promise.”

Jean grinned with pleasure. “Thank you, Doctor,” she said.

Dr. Barsch picked up the letter again. “I’ve been in touch with a medical publisher about you. You see, whenever they hear of a promising young artist who knows something about medicine, they leap at the chance to sign him--or her--up. It doesn’t happen often. Not often enough, that an artist is also interested in medicine.”

Jean clasped her hands together. “You mean, some publisher wants me to do drawings for him?”

Dr. Barsch laughed. “Not so fast, young lady. No, their offer isn’t quite that spectacular.” He rubbed his hands together. “But in a sense, I suppose maybe the offer is in its way more spectacular. You see, they want you to take more art courses.”

“But ...” Jean began.

The doctor held up his hand. “Wait till I finish,” he said. “I think it can all be figured out quite simply. You will finish your nurse’s training this summer. And then, as I understand it, you are thinking about being married.”

Jean hesitated. “Of course no definite date has been set yet.”

Dr. Barsch stroked his chin. “Well, let’s assume that the wedding will take place soon after your graduation. When you reach Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, you can begin a correspondence course in art, can’t you?”

Jean grinned. “I had sort of planned to continue studying art after Ralph and I were married.” She looked down. “You see, I don’t want to forget my skills just because I’m being married.”

The doctor grinned. “Fine! Fine!” he said. “Then my little plan _can_ be worked. This publishing company is prepared to award you a sort of scholarship so that you can take the course. In return, you will have to make arrangements with a hospital near your home in Saskatchewan to attend their operations and do sketching for the company when you have completed the course.”

Jean thought a moment. “There is a small hospital near Ralph’s ranch,” she said. “Ralph has told me about it. Certainly I could make arrangements with them to sketch at their operations.”

Dr. Barsch nodded. “Of course I’ll help you arrange things. I think maybe if they realize you’re a student of mine, there won’t be much trouble with the details.”

“Someone open the door,” Ted called from outside. “I’ve got coffee for everyone.”

Jean went over to the door. Ted brought in the tray and set it on the desk.

“You should have let me get it,” Jean cried.

Ted smiled. “Division of labor, my child. Dr. Barsch operates, you sketch and I just stand around. So I’m elected coffee boy.”

“Take a look at Miss Craig’s sketch, Loring,” Dr. Barsch said, handing him the pad. “I think it’s pretty fair.”

“That’s high praise, coming from you,” Ted laughed. He looked at it carefully. “Uh huh,” he said, nodding. “It looks swell. Jeannie, you could make a career out of doing this.”

Jean laughed. “Dr. Barsch and I have just been discussing that.”

“But of course you’re off to the altar, and there’s the end of a beautiful career,” Ted said dolefully.

“Oh, no!” Jean cried.

Dr. Barsch smiled slyly. “Sounds to me as if _you_ are against marriage, Dr. Loring. I suppose Miss Simpson realizes this?”

Ted blushed. “Oh, marriage is all right,” he protested.

Dr. Barsch lit his pipe. “Marriage is all right. Hm,” he said playfully. “I’ve a notion to tell Miss Simpson how enthusiastic you are about the institution of wedlock. You and your city ways! Moon and pussyfoot around and steal the best doggoned Supervisor of Nurses I ever had! All right, indeed!”

Ted shifted painfully. “Oh, I’m very much in favor of marriage, doctor....”

“That’s good to hear,” Dr. Barsch said.

“It’s just that Jean draws so well....”

“And Miss Simpson makes such a good Supervisor,” Dr. Barsch added.

Ted squirmed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You can’t have her back!” He looked at Jean’s and Dr. Barsch’s faces. They were grinning.

“Dr. Barsch, you shouldn’t tease him so,” Jean said lightly. “Isn’t it all right to tell him about the plan?”

Dr. Barsch puffed at his pipe. “Of course, my dear.”

Breathlessly, Jean repeated Dr. Barsch’s plans for her to Ted. The young doctor nodded and clapped his hands together in agreement.

“Marvelous idea, Jeannie,” he said. “I think Ralph will like the idea, too.”

5. April Wedding

Ethel’s and Ted’s wedding was scheduled for April eighteenth. The first two weeks of the month were dreary and rainy. The skies above Elmhurst were constantly gray, and the countryside looked bleak and unpromising after the long winter. Tempers were short at the clinic. The season of spring colds was on, and Jean felt a great depression as she tended her duties as an upperclass nurse. Because of the shortage of graduate nurses at the hospital, Jean and her classmates were used almost as regular nurses. Jean had to attend courses in chemistry, biology and dietetics along with her regular duties, and as the spring term got under way, she was now in charge of the pediatric ward.

A whole procession of youngsters flooded both the doctors’ offices and the hospital wards. And Jean’s days were full of bathing youngsters, trying to put dosages of penicillin and sulpha into unwilling small mouths, taking temperatures and pulses of the squirming children. She tried to study at night after writing her daily letter to Ralph, but often she would steal back into the ward to hold the hand of a tiny, miserable patient lonely for his mother. Jean found solace in the quiet ward at night. The children were calmer, there were no adults about, and she couldn’t see the dreadful, gloomy sky.

Ordinarily, Jean would have welcomed the chance to work so closely with Ted, whose capacity as pediatrician kept him closely in touch with the ward. But Ted was cross and nervous. For hours at a time, he swabbed throats and sprayed sniffly noses and tried to reason with mothers weary of the winter and of housefuls of pent-up children.

The radio forecasts were always the same: showers.

“April showers,” Jean remarked one day bitterly as she gazed up at the sky which was sending down its interminable drizzly rain. “If these are showers, let me know when one stops and the next one starts, someone!”

Only Ethel and Jack seemed to retain their high spirits. Ethel was too excited about her wedding even to notice the weather. And Jack, bedridden already a month, had drawn from some inner source a courage and even temper which amazed everyone around him. Although Jack knew that he would be in bed for many months, he never seemed to be depressed. He made a full life for himself within his tiny room. Although he wasn’t allowed many visitors, he soon fell into a routine which occupied his mind, but which didn’t excite him too much.

But just when everyone decided that it would never stop raining, the sun came out. The sky was blue with fluffy white clouds, and spring had come to Elmhurst. Trees which had been barren two weeks before were now covered with soft green buds. The whole countryside softened with new-growing greenery. The river ran with vigorous energy to carry its extra burden to the ocean, and the air smelled clean, as if the heavens had spent two energetic weeks in spring housecleaning.

The day of Ethel’s wedding was cool and clear. The ceremony was to be held in the Craigs’ parlor, and the whole family was busy making final preparations.

Doris was singing “Brightly Dawns Our Wedding Day” from the _Mikado_ as she dusted the living room furniture for the third time. Jean arranged the wedding presents on the dining room table for everyone to see. She sighed gently as she laid out the sterling silver which Mrs. Loring had given her son and daughter-to-be. And she smiled in satisfied anticipation as she arranged the kitchen equipment which had been the contribution of the nurses at the shower. She handled the linens and china with loving care.

Mrs. Craig ran downstairs and popped her head into the dining room.

“Time to get dressed, dear. I want you to be ready so you can help me with the bride. Oh, dear,” she sighed, “where _is_ that girl?”

“Ethel?” Jean asked. “I suppose she’s still at the hospital. If I know Ethel, she’s probably making a long list of instructions to leave behind her.” She sighed. “Oh, Mother,” she cried, “all these lovely things! And you should see that terrible little apartment they’re going to have to put them in! Darn it, anyhow! Why couldn’t Ted have been a veteran? Then he could have one of the houses Dad designed for the veterans’ project. Now, where on earth will they put all these things in that stuffy little place?”

Mrs. Craig smiled knowingly. “Never mind, dear. Ethel can store things here if she wants to, till she has a better place. Now hurry, Jean. With everyone dressing here, we have to hustle.”

Jean obediently went upstairs. Mrs. Craig went in to send Doris up to dress, muttering, “Ethel should have come to breakfast as I told her to. She probably didn’t eat a thing.”

As she spoke, Ethel came in the front door. Mrs. Craig stretched out both hands to her, and Ethel grabbed them. She attempted to smile.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it for breakfast, Mrs. Craig,” she said. “But there were just a few things I wanted to take care of at the hospital before I left.”

Jean bent over the upstairs railing and called down, “What did I tell you, Mother?”

Mrs. Craig smiled in despair. “Oh, child, this is your wedding day! Now, let’s get you upstairs and into your finery.”

Suddenly Ethel burst into tears. Mrs. Craig put her arms around her and drew her over to a chair.

“I ... I don’t _want_ to get married,” Ethel cried. “I ... well, I just don’t want to get married!”

Mrs. Craig smiled knowingly and patted the girl on the shoulder. “I know, my dear. I know just how you feel....”

“They’re so short-handed over at the hospital. They can’t spare any nurses,” Ethel sobbed. “I just can’t get married now! There are too many things to do!”

Suddenly her eyes brightened. “Do you think Ted would understand if we called the wedding off? I mean, just till I finish everything that has to be done at the hospital?”

Mr. Craig came into the front hall together with Aunt Becky. He stopped at the sight of Ethel’s tearful face and stared at her in alarm.

“Great heavens!” he exclaimed. “Tears on your wedding day?”

Becky elbowed him out of the way and came over to Ethel. “Oh, run along with you, man,” she snapped at the bewildered Mr. Craig. “There isn’t a girl alive who doesn’t get plumb nervous at the thought of her wedding day!” She turned to Ethel. “Now, now, child,” she said, “you just have a good cry, and....”

Mr. Craig interrupted Becky with a loud laugh. He threw back his head and roared. “If you think you’re nervous, my girl,” he said, “you should see Ted, now. When I stopped in to see him, his poor mother was trying to help him dress. Ted was hopping around on one foot like a scared chicken....”

Mrs. Craig touched her husband’s arm. “All right, dear,” she said, “now run along and get _yourself_ dressed.”

As Mr. Craig went upstairs, whistling, Ethel composed herself and smiled at the two women.

“Poor Ted,” she grinned. “He’s _so_ helpless. And of course he’s scared! He needs someone to look after him.” She glanced at her watch. “Good heavens!” she cried, “I’d better hurry and dress! Mrs. Craig, where is my gown?”

Mrs. Craig smiled. “Your clothes are up in Jean’s room, dear. Doris and Jean are waiting to help you. I’ll be up, myself, in a few minutes.”

Ethel threw her arms around Mrs. Craig’s neck and hugged her. “How can Ted and I ever thank you for what you are doing for us?”

“Humph!” Becky snorted. “Now, scat, girl. And Marge, you come out with me to the kitchen. I want to unload my basket.” She shook the overflowing basket of last-minute additions to the party food which she was carrying.

Ethel nearly collided with Tommy on the stairway.

“Hi, beautiful,” Tommy said, grinning. “I hereby swear my eternal devotion to you on your wedding day.”

Ethel laughed. “You idiot! Whatever do you mean?”

Tommy shook his head. “Only for you. For you only, I say, would I struggle into this!” And he waved a stiff collar under her nose. “That is, outside of the immediate family.”

As Tommy reached the bottom of the stairs, still muttering about his collar, the front door flew open, and Ted, followed by a distraught Mrs. Loring, came dashing into the hall. Ted confronted Tommy, his face twisted in wrath.

“Tommy, where’s your father?” he demanded.

Tommy stared at the bridegroom.

“Now, now, dear,” Ted’s mother clutched at his arm, “don’t upset everyone, now. Calm yourself!”

Ted turned to face his mother. “But you _know_ this means the wedding’s off! How can a man get married when...?”

“Huh?” said Tommy.

“The apartment! The furniture! Gone! Everything’s gone! I’ve been robbed! The apartment wasn’t much, but it was a place to live, and Ethel and I picked out all our furniture and had it sent to that place. Now it’s gone!”

Mrs. Loring took Ted’s hand. “Now listen, son,” she said, “there must be an explanation. People don’t run off with a houseful of furniture.”

Mr. Craig came downstairs.

“Well, hello, Mrs. Loring,” he said, shaking her hand. “And Ted. I’m afraid I have to do the honors. The women are all upstairs dressing.”

Mrs. Loring smiled wryly. “Mr. Craig, forgive this ridiculous son of mine. We would have come over at the proper time when everything was ready. But Ted has some fool notion that he’s been robbed.”

Mr. Craig chuckled. “If Ted didn’t come crashing into a party, I would know there was something wrong. Did he ever tell you about the first time we met?”

Mrs. Loring smiled as if she knew her son’s habits. “I can imagine the entrance he made was spectacular,” she said.

Mr. Craig laughed at the memory. “It certainly was. We gave a large barn dance to celebrate the building of the clinic. Dr. Gallup was in the midst of introducing Dr. Barsch to the community when, bang! The lights all went out. Seems as if Ted had come in and tripped over the light cords.”

Mrs. Loring laughed despairingly. “Oh, Ted,” she sighed. “I’m afraid you had a typical introduction to my son,” she said to Mr. Craig.

“Mother!” Ted cried, “how can you stand around swapping tales with Mr. Craig when I’ve been robbed?”

Mr. Craig looked at Ted gravely. “Suppose you start from the beginning and tell me the whole story.”

“Well, sir, I went over to see the apartment this morning to check on last minute details, you know. The landlady told me that she didn’t _have_ an apartment for me! I told her that was ridiculous and that I’d already paid my first month’s rent and that I had a whole apartment full of furniture moved in not two days ago. She showed me the apartment and there wasn’t a stick of it ... there wasn’t anything in it! Then she handed me back my money!” Ted’s face became redder.

Mr. Craig began to chuckle. “How much rent did she want for those three rooms?”

Ted glowered. “Sixty-five a month.”

“Sixty-five a month is a little high for children just setting up housekeeping. I tell you what, Ted. There’s no point in upsetting your wedding by keeping it from you any longer. You see, for forty-five a month, you can have a regular house.”

Ted stared at Mr. Craig. “I don’t understand, sir,” he said.

Mr. Craig smiled. “Mrs. Craig and I went over to see your apartment a week or so ago. Frankly, Mrs. Craig didn’t think much of it. So we decided to move you out. It just happens I have a house for rent. In the housing project that I designed. It’s been open for four days, only, and they’re pretty nice little houses. The builders gave me one as a sort of bonus, and I want to rent it, of course. Perhaps it was presumptuous of me....”

Ted gasped. “This ... this is a miracle. But it’s too much! We couldn’t possibly accept it!”

Mr. Craig shook his head. “Mrs. Craig and I are very anxious to see you two settled nicely. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for Ethel.” He handed Ted a set of keys. “Here you are, son. You’ll find your furniture at this address.”

Mrs. Loring sat down. “I don’t know what to say, Mr. Craig,” she murmured.

Ted sat down and stared at the keys in his hand. Mr. Craig patted him on the shoulder and turned to his son. “Hey, Tommy,” he called. “Come here, and I’ll fix your collar.”

Only the members of the Craig family even suspected that Ethel had shed tears less than an hour before the ceremony. When she came down the stairs on Dr. Barsch’s arm, she was the perfect picture of a radiant bride. The wedding was held in the front parlor with the family and hospital staff in attendance. It was a regular old-fashioned wedding, and the fragrance of roses and lilacs filled the parlor as the minister read the time-revered words. And from the silent congregation came the sound of muffled sobs--not from the happy Mrs. Craig, who beamed on the beautiful bride, nor from Mrs. Loring, who smiled at her new daughter with contented pride, but from Jean, who suddenly felt the tragic loneliness of a girl whose beloved is many, many miles away.

6. Dr. Benson Confesses

Ethel and Ted had gone on a short tour of New England for their honeymoon. The routine of the hospital resumed, and Eileen Gordon became official Supervisor of Nurses. Jean was amused at the comparison of the two girls. For Eileen had taken over Ethel’s classes, and Jean and the other girls soon realized that Eileen was every bit as devoted to her profession as Ethel had been. Eileen was a bit different from Ethel in that she was new at handling girls. But there was no question about the fact that she knew her business. And she was friendly and helpful, so the students became used to her brusque manner in class and on the floor.

Jean, Sally, Hedda, Lucy Peckham and Ingeborg were all in dietetics class when Eileen took over the class for the first time. The new Supervisor was plainly nervous, and the students smiled encouragingly at her as she opened the notebook which Ethel had left for her.

Eileen toyed with a pencil as she scanned Ethel’s notes. “You all know, or should know, by this time,” she said, “the importance of a balanced diet.” She smiled at the class. “I’m rather hoping that one of you will plan to specialize in dietetics, because we will be needing a good one for our own kitchen. But we all have to know about diet ... in fact, every human being should know about it.” She stopped, realizing that she was being too repetitious and long-winded.

“Let’s start with the three major groups of foods. Miss Peckham, will you please name them?”

Lucy smiled and said, “The three major classifications of foods are fats, carbohydrates and proteins.”

Eileen nodded. “And who can tell me what a calory is?”

The class groaned in mock despair. Counting calories was an unpleasant job which some of them occasionally had to do.

“Something we could do without,” Sally said flippantly.

Eileen laughed with the rest of the class. “As a woman, I agree with you, Miss Hancock,” she said. “But as a nurse, I have to send you to the foot of the class.” She looked about the classroom. “Miss Craig, will you tell Miss Hancock what a calory is and why she couldn’t possibly get along without it?”

Jean laughed. “A calory is a unit of heat ... or, in the case of food which provides fuel, weight. And Sally would have to have calories or give up eating altogether.”

Eileen nodded as the rest of the class tittered. “Can anyone name foods which do not have calories?”

The class thought. Lucy raised her hand. “Coffee doesn’t have any calories,” she said.

Eileen frowned a little and nodded. “Strictly speaking, I think you can’t exactly call coffee a food. It’s actually a drug ... or, at least, its main function is that of a drug.”

“How about salt?” Hedda asked.