AFTER STARTING ANEW
Chapter Nineteen
August, 1932
The intermittent buzzing of cicadas was the only
sound that broke the silence on this hot summer afternoon. Even the light
breeze that blew down from the mountains made Rose’s face feel like she was
facing a blast furnace. This summer had been filled with ninety-degree days and
eighty-degree nights, giving little reprieve to the citizens of Denver.
Everyone moved slowly, thought slowly and tried whenever to find a way to cool
off.
Ruth and Arthur had taken off for Elkhorn
Lodge in Estes Park and from what she wrote to Rose in a letter, it was hot even
there. The nights were cooler, but the days were warm. At least in the
mountains, there were streams to wade in and the shade of the thick evergreens
where some respite could be found.
Rose lifted a glass of lemonade to her lips
and continued reading her mother’s letter. "The fire danger here is quite
high, so they are not allowed to light the evening campfire. At least the
mosquitoes are few. That is one good thing. Yesterday, Arthur and I went
horseback riding. You know how terrified I have been of horses and things, but
Arthur was marvelous in helping me enjoy the afternoon. To tell the truth, I
think the horse was more scared of me, than I of the horse. A long time ago, I
would never have dreamt that a person of my advanced age would be enjoying these
things, but as you know, I have to make up for many wasted years."
Setting the letter down on the wicker table
next to her, Rose shook her head and sipped some more of the cooling liquid.
Her mother was just an amazing person. For someone who had worked so hard to
fit into the mold demanded by society, it was unbelievable to see the effort
she made now in breaking traditions. She certainly deserved a great deal of
credit.
"Mommy, Mommy." Rose looked up to
find her youngest, Patrick, standing next to her with a baseball mitt in his
hand.
"Tommy and his big brother and I are
going to the big field to play catch. Is it okay?"
She studied the face of the baby of the
family. Patrick with his freckled nose, blue eyes and sandy hair drove her to
distraction at times. He had the personality of Jack, the mischeviousness of
Frank and the stubbornness of herself. All rolled up tightly into one sturdy
little boy. So far this summer he had done well keeping himself busy with his
little friends. But when he got bored, chaos would erupt. He was six now, the
tail end of her family of five children. She always laughed when she said that
if Patrick had been the first, he would have been the last. There was such a
spread between Patrick and his brother Frank, but maybe when they got older
they would find more in common. For right now she was glad that Patrick had his
interest in baseball and the other children in the neighborhood.
Rose reached over and patted him on the head.
"Yes, you may go with Tommy. Just be careful when you cross the street.
When you hear the church bell chime six times, you come right home. All
right?"
With solemn eyes that did little to hide his
mischievous spirit, the boy nodded and tore down the front stairs. Rose leaned
back in her chair, dreaming of the day when she’d had that much energy. It was
hard for her to believe that she and Jack had been married for twenty years and
that she had borne five healthy children. There had been some tough times and
things were lean right now with the depression, but somehow they still managed
to have fun. Since her mother had remarried Arthur in 1915, the children had
enjoyed the presence of two very loving grandparents. Even though Arthur and
Ruth were well to do and had always offered their assistance, she and Jack had
chosen not to accept any monetary aid for themselves. What they gave to the
children was one thing, but for themselves, they still managed to make ends
meet. No matter what, not even these hard times had dimmed their love for one
another.
Life was filled with hope and happiness for
her right now. They had made it through Titanic and the long sad days of WWI.
Now the future stretched ahead of them and Rose could only see that things
would improve. With the election coming in the fall, people felt that the
economy would turn around. At least that was what the candidates were
promising. Every summer, the greatest fear was the dreaded word of polio, but
to Rose, that seemed a far distant and unlikely worry. There had been a few
cases reported in the south part of Denver, but nothing near them or with
anyone they knew. She thought about the chicken salad that was chilling in the
refrigerator and the wash that hung on the back clothesline. Today she had
gotten up early, determined to get everything done early in the morning when it
was cool. There was not much to do these days. Jack was teaching summer school
at the high school and gone all day. Patrick, of course, was often underfoot,
and Frank, now eighteen, was working for some attorney friends of Arthur’s to see
if that was truly the career he wanted for himself. The twins had celebrated
their nineteenth birthdays last winter and they too were gone. The tall willowy
red heads, so close as children, were each following the dreams of their
choice. Molly was in nurses’ training at a large hospital in Chicago. She was
just finishing her first year and in a week would start her well-earned
vacation. Edy was working as a waitress in Madison, Wisconsin, earning money to
help with her tuition at the university there. She was studying to be a
teacher. Cora had gone from being a little girl to a teenager almost overnight.
At fourteen, she was still happy to be on the cusp of childhood and had eagerly
gone off to the Y camp, over in Evergreen for two weeks. Clancy, their lumbering
yellow lab, yawned and stretched, his actions making Rose smile. Since they
were first married, they had always had a dog in the family. There had been
Byron, and then Otto, the Springer Spaniel. For five years now, Clancy had been
the real head of the Dawson house. The way Jack spoiled the dog was positively
outrageous. She couldn’t complain though. He was a good watchdog and a
wonderful playmate for the children. Rose watched as Clancy stood up and
stretched again. He walked over to her, his claws clicking of the wooden porch
floor.
"I suppose you want some water."
Her simple statement was met with a vigorous tail wagging. "All right.
Let’s go in the kitchen. I have to cut up some fruit for dessert." She had
heard the living room clock chime four, so it was indeed time to start thinking
about dinner. Jack, who was staying late at school today to clean out his room
after today’s last session of summer school, said he would be home at six.
Frank had told her that he was meeting some friends after work. Only three for
dinner tonight. Rose gathered her magazines and letters and her glass of
lemonade and headed for the kitchen with Clancy leading the way.
As she got up, Rose saw a pile of old toys in
the corner of the porch. A few metal trucks, some worn books, Frank’s old
baseball bat, all piled into a wicker doll carriage. She shook her head in
wonder. Where had the days gone since five noisy children had inhabited this
house? While making dinner for seven had seemed a chore at the time, she truly
missed those wild, disruptive meals. Everyone had been talking at once, all of
them vying for the attention of Jack or herself. Those had been special times.
In a way the tranquillity was nice, but it saddened her to think that with
three of her children already grown, their lives would never be the same again.
She glanced into the cool and quiet living
room, feeling a sense of peace and serenity as she observed her surroundings.
Every object in the room had been carefully chosen and thoughtfully purchased
with money saved from hard days of work. She was so proud of Jack and his work
and of herself too, for her thrifty housekeeping habits. A quick look into the
dining room reminded her of the vacation they planned to take next week. She
and Jack and Patrick were planning a seven-day trip to the Black Hills of South
Dakota. Lined up on the floor were sleeping bags, a tent, lantern and picnic
basket. Camping was not her favorite activity, but for Jack’s sake, she agreed
to come along for a few days, every couple of years. She knew he appreciated
her efforts. And she had to admit that those starry nights with Jack out in the
middle of nowhere were still romantic. "I better start thinking about some
clothes to take too." She mentally made a note to check that their warm
jackets were clean and mended. From out of nowhere came the jarring sound of a
phone ringing. Rose was surprised to hear the phone. Usually the girls called
at night and Jack and Frank rarely. Only to let her know that their plans had
changed. "I wonder who this is." She had not expected to hear from
her mother either. They were not due home for three more days.
"Hello," she said cheerfully.
"Mrs. Dawson, please," came a
professional sounding voice on the other end.
Rose frowned. Usually her callers all knew
her by her first name. "Yes, this is Mrs. Dawson. Who is this?" She
listened as the voice introduced herself as Caroline Fredricks, the nurse at
Camp Greenview, where Cora was spending several weeks.
"Mrs. Dawson, I usually don’t bother
parents if the children come down with something simple. But I would feel
better if Cora were to go home and was seen by your family doctor. Mrs. Clark,
Emily’s mother, is here visiting and she offered to bring Cora home now."
"What seems to be wrong with her?"
Rose could not imagine anything serious. Cora had been a strong and healthy
child since she was born. Of all her children Cora had been the one to have the
mildest cases of measles, chicken pox and mumps. "Do you think it is
serious?" asked Rose, still rather unconcerned.
"Frankly, Mrs. Dawson, I don’t know. I
think you should have your doctor there ready to see Cora when she gets home. I
know she has a fever and chills. She has reluctantly complained of a headache
and some stiffness in her joints. It could be influenza. She has been trying to
hide this from us, until this morning when she just could not get out of bed.
One of the other campers notified me."
Rose bit her lip, trying to remember if their
doctor was even home. He too was supposed to be going away. "All right.
I’ll call," agreed Rose. "When should I expect them to get
here?" Poor Cora, having to end her camping experience like this. She must
be feeling really bad. "Do you think it could be tonsillitis? Our oldest
boy had that once and was quite ill."
Rose did not like the hesitancy in the
nurse’s voice as she answered. "Maybe. I really am not supposed to make a
diagnosis. I just think she should go home. We don’t want anyone else here to
get sick. She may have infected some other girls already. If she and Mrs. Clark
leave now, I think they will be there in an hour. Have some cool water for her
to drink and warm the bed with a hot water bottle. I don’t wish to alarm you.
We are just looking out for our campers." Not understanding why a sick
feeling was starting to gnaw at her stomach, Rose slowly put the phone down
after saying good bye to Miss Fredricks. How had Cora gotten sick in the first
place? Quickly she opened her black leather address book that always sat by the
phone and thumbed to the page that had Dr. Webster’s phone number. Luckily the
doctor answered himself.
"I’m supposed to go on vacation next
week, Rose. I don’t mind coming over to check on Cora. You know how they are at
these camps. They just don’t want everyone getting sick. I wouldn’t be overly
alarmed. I’ll see you in an hour."
"Th, thank you, doctor. I guess I feel a
little better now." She hung up from this second call slightly more
reassured after speaking with Dr. Webster. Maybe with the right medicine and
some good care, they would not have to change their trip dates. Hopefully they
could still leave next Wednesday, possibly Cora might even want to join them.
She gave the patient Clancy his water and headed upstairs to open Cora’s bed
and air out the room. Her thoughts went back and forth between the ominous tone
of the nurse and the casual conversation with the doctor. In the oppressive
heat of the afternoon, her good mood started to fade and without knowing
exactly why, she felt as if she had just collided with a brick wall.
Jack rushed up the front stairs, eager to be
home after a long hot day in his classroom. For some reason that he could not
understand, the art and music departments in most high schools were located on
the highest floors of the building, making them stifling in summer and cold in
winter. "I suppose I could always imagine I’m in some garret along the
Seine." His mind went back for a moment to those days before Rose, before
Titanic, when he had wandered aimlessly across Europe. Then painting in some
place like that had seemed romantic. Now he knew there was only one place for
him, here with Rose and their family.
The screen door slammed behind him and he
walked in sniffing the air. Usually the house smelled of some food behind
prepared and the candles in the dining room to his left were always lit. That
was one thing Rose had insisted upon. No matter what they were eating, be it
sandwiches or a roast, there had to be a genteel atmosphere at dinner. While
she had not wanted her children to grow up in the stilted ways of her youth,
she felt that learning to eat and converse properly were essential to success
in life. And she had always whispered to Jack that at the end of the day, she
looked better in candlelight. He had to agree, but she looked beautiful all the
time to him.
He put his briefcase down next to the hall
table and laid his keys in the big wooden bowl intended for such things. It was
odd he thought that Rose or Clancy were nowhere in sight. And there were no delicious
smells to whet his appetite. As he moved through the room, he noticed in the
dim light, a figure sitting at the bottom of the stairs. The size of the person
indicated that it must be Patrick.
"Patrick, is that you? What are you
doing all by yourself here? Where is you mother?" Jack crouched down and
lifted the little boy’s head. He wondered what had happened to make him look so
dejected.
Patrick shrugged his shoulders. "Mommy
is upstairs. Cora is sick." Jack squinted his eyes in confusion. Cora? She
was not due to come home from camp for another two weeks. "Cora? She’s at
camp."
Patrick shook his head in disagreement.
"A lady brought her. In a car. The doctor is here. The lady and Mommy
carried her upstairs. Dad, I’m hungry."
Jack sighed with concern and called out for
Rose. He heard her answer in a quiet voice that she was upstairs. With a pat on
the head and a promise that dinner would be in a few minutes, Jack raced up the
stairs to find out what was going on. Cora, carried upstairs, home early from
camp? What had happened? Rose was standing in the hall outside of Cora’s closed
door. Her face white with tension. Clancy was stretched out against the wall
across the way.
"Rose, what is going on?" As he
came closer he saw fear in her eyes. Her hands twisted in front of her and she
was biting her lips.
"Oh Jack. I don’t know. This is all so
sudden. They called from the camp and sent her right home. They told me to have
the doctor waiting to see her." She reached out for Jack and clutched him
tightly. He looked so strong and hopeful. When he dressed for work in his
suits, shirts and tie, he looked so dashing, almost older than he was. His hair
looked a bit disheveled today as if he had been continually brushing it out of
his face. At forty, Jack still had his slim build and devastatingly blue eyes.
His blond hair was generously sprinkled with gray, but few men in Denver could
compete with his charming personality or handsome good looks.
"Ah, you are both here." Rose
turned still in Jack’s arms, as they heard a door open and the voice behind
them. Jack recognized the man as Dr. Webster, their family doctor. They had not
needed him much, since their children seemed to have been blessed with good
health. His presence here today signified something ominous. Jack acknowledged
him with a quick nod. For some reason, words of greeting seemed to be stuck in
his throat. The doctor was about fifty and had steel gray hair and a portly
build. He laughed loudly when happy and had a look of anger about him when
things were out of his control. It was this look that was on his face now.
"Jack, Rose. I am afraid I have some very bad news for you."
She glanced back up at Jack and saw in his
eyes something she had seen only once before when he thought she was not
looking. A look of pure terror, as the Titanic had taken them on that wild ride
into the freezing sea. A look she knew was now mirrored in her own eyes. Rose
reached her hand out to the table, looking for even more support than Jack’s
arms could provide. Her heart began to race and she knew that she was about to
receive a terrible blow. She could see it in the doctor’s eyes. He had given
them a moment to prepare themselves.
"I am afraid that Cora has paralytic
poliomyelitis," he said gravely.
Jack felt his heart drop and in front of him
a dead weight collapsed in his arms. He looked down at Rose. The woman who had
survived the icy waters of the Atlantic, had delivered five children with
little discomfort or complaint. Rose who had set him straight during the war
when he was about to give up. His inner light and his love. Rose, his soulmate,
who had endured so much, had fainted in his arms. The news of her gravely ill
child was more than even she could bear.