MOTHER & CHILD

Aiken, South Carolina, 1951

Blue mist blanketed the lawns of the suburban neighborhood. The low rumble of a freight train’s wheels subsided in the distance. Just beyond the tracks, a lone mongrel yapped and yodeled.

Asa sat sipping coffee in his pick-up truck. He swirled the last drops in his battered tin cup, flung the dregs out the window, and cranked the ignition.

Soon clapboard houses gave way to faded brick, the awnings and steel of downtown. At the far end of the plaza, an old street-sweeper emerged from an alley and dusted the curb with his broom.

Asa reached across the seat and fished a slip of paper out of his black bag. Though the handwriting was unsteady, the address he’d scribbled earlier was plainly legible.

As Asa cleared the final stoplight, the street-sweeper, leaning on his broom handle, observed the doctor’s passage with sharply mocking eyes.

* * *

The first thing Asa saw when he parked in front of the house was a man driving stakes into the lawn. Kneeling on the grass, he hefted a mallet in one giant paw, raised it above his head, and pounded it down.

Asa climbed out of the truck, set his bag down on the curb, then stood and ran his hands over his ill-fitting black suit.

“Good morning,” he called. “I’m Asa Wheelwright.”

The man shaded his eyes with his hand. “Morning,” he said at last. “Richard Stokes. Well, come on if you’re coming.”

Asa stepped cautiously onto the grass. “Looks like you’re working on something serious.”

Richard frowned.

Asa turned to face the house, a modest yellow bungalow with a bright red door. From sills on either side hung aluminum window boxes where tender shoots sprouted from soil, ripe and ready to unfold. The curtains inside were drawn.

“You been expecting me?” Asa said.

“I know why you’re here. I can see your black bag.”

“Well, I reckon I should be about my business. Don’t want to disturb you any more than necessary. I believe it was your wife that called me. Will I find her inside?”

Richard turned and dropped to one knee. He took up another stake, twisted the point into the ground. He lifted his hammer. “Just knock on the door.”

Richard drove the stake home with a single thunderous blow.

* * *

A stately young woman in a blue checkered dress answered the door. When she saw Asa standing, hat in hand, on her stoop, she nodded and waved him inside.

“Thank you for coming,” she said.

Asa stepped through the door. “Not at all. You sure called awful early this morning.”

The woman blushed. “Forgive me,” she said. “Sometimes my nerves get ahead of my manners. I’m Claire Stokes.”

Claire guided the doctor through the living room and settled him into an easy chair. Asa sat with his hat in his lap, the black satchel planted between his feet.

“I hope my husband didn’t startle you,” Claire said. “He’s got it into his head that he needs to build something underneath the house. Of course, he won’t tell us what it is. But when he gets this way, I’m afraid there’s just no stopping him.”

Claire turned and seated herself on the sofa. She smoothed her dress down over her knees, pressed her palms together, then leaned forward primly to speak. “Our daughter, Evelyn, is very sick,” she said. “We’re not sure what the trouble is exactly. We’ve already tried several doctors.”

“How long has she been sick?”

“A long time now. Six months maybe. She’s missed an awful lot of school.”

“And when she’s home, she stays in her room?”

“Yes. Mostly. That’s where she is now.”

* * *

Claire opened the bedroom door, followed Asa inside, then closed it again behind them. Sunlight sifted in through the curtains, filling the room with a deep red glow. The girl’s bed stood against the back wall. The air was musty and heavy with sickness.

“Evelyn?” Claire said. “There’s a man here to see you. Someone different this time.”

A faint whimper reached them from the bed.

“Go ahead,” Claire whispered.

Asa inched forward through the dim red light until he stood at Evelyn’s bedside. He pulled a straight chair over from its place in the corner and seated himself. He could see the girl’s face now, puffy and moist, gazing up at him from her pillow. A mound of patched quilts covered her body.

“Hello there,” Asa said. “I understand you’re feeling a little under the weather.”

“Oof,” Evelyn moaned. “My head hurts real bad.”

Asa opened his bag. He reached inside and pulled out his stethoscope, a tongue depressor, and a penlight. He laid his hand gently across her forehead. “My goodness,” he said. “You are hot, aren’t you?”

Evelyn nodded.

“All right, Evelyn. I’m going to shine a light in your eyes now. Be a good girl and look straight ahead.” Asa flashed the beam in one eye, then the other. Each stared back at him, pink and wet and swollen. “Very good. Now open your mouth for me. I’m going to look down your throat.” Evelyn obeyed and Asa examined her quickly. “Excellent. Now I need to listen to your heart. I’m going to pull these quilts back and put this stethoscope on your chest. It might feel a little cold, but I promise it won’t hurt you.”

Asa rolled the quilts down, uncovering Evelyn’s body. It was wrapped entirely in grimy canvas.

“Gee whiz, Evelyn,” Asa said. “You’re in something of a fix. I’ve been a doctor for a mighty long time, and I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

He rose and turned to face Claire, who had retreated back against the bureau. She held one fist against her lips. Asa moved past the bed to the window, parted the curtains, and fastened them to hooks on either side of the frame. A wide shaft of light poured into the room.

Outside, Richard ran a string along the tops of the stakes, forming an enormous rectangle.

Asa clasped his hands behind his back and gazed out over the trees.

* * *

On the far side of the railroad tracks, in a tarpaper shack no bigger than a woodshed, lived a pretty little girl named Sonja Lou. Sonja Lou was black as midnight, tall and strong, and wore her hair in long shiny braids that whipped around her head when she laughed.

One day Sonja Lou came skipping down the road on her way home from school when a pair of no-good boys jumped out from behind a bush and started hooting at her.

“Hoowee, Cutter,” said the first one. “What we got here?”

“Don’t know, Willie,” said the other. “I believe it’s something sweet. You hold her tight and I’ll find out.”

But she was too quick for them. She leapt away, and their two skulls cracked together. They tumbled against each other and collapsed at her feet. Then she tied their shoelaces in a knot, emptied their pockets, and left them lying in the road.

When she got home, Sonja Lou kissed her mother on the cheek, grabbed her jump rope from its hook on the wall, dashed back outside, kicked off her shoes, swung that rope over her head, and danced effortlessly across the yard.

When the sun went down, Sonja Lou’s father came home from the fields. Tonight he was sullen as usual. He stumbled inside and sank into a chair and rolled his head from side to side.

Sonja Lou and her mother glanced at each other. Then Sonja Lou stepped up behind her father and placed a hand on his shoulder. She told him all about Cutter and Willie, how they’d teased her and grabbed her and made her run away.

Her father leapt up from his chair and stormed out into the night. “I’ll kill ’em!” he shouted. “Where they at? I’ll kill ’em! I’ll kill ’em!”

“You didn’t let me finish!” cried Sonja Lou. She reached into her pocket and pulled something out. She held her open hand outstretched.

In her palm lay two shiny dimes.

* * *

Asa turned away from the window, made his way back to the straight chair, and sat. He crossed one leg over the other. “Well now, Evelyn,” he said. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“No, sir.”

Asa glanced back at Claire. She nodded and moved forward until she stood at his right shoulder.

“All right,” Asa began. “Do you remember when you started to feel sick?”

“Oh, yes,” Evelyn said. “I woke up from a terrible dream.”

“A nightmare?”

“Yes. I was drowning in the ocean when a monster came along and pulled me out of the water. He dropped me on the beach and tried to eat me but I ran away into the forest. And the monster chased me and chased me until I fell into a cave and hid under a gigantic rock. I was so glad the monster couldn’t find me. But then I realized I was lost—trapped in the deepest cave ever.”

Asa nodded. “Sounds scary. And that’s when you say your fever started?”

“Yes. Everybody at school thought I was a loony.”

“Why did they think that?”

“Because I was just so dizzy. I couldn't walk right or talk right. Doctor, I was in rough shape.”

“So then you just stayed home?”

“Yes. Pretty soon I couldn’t even get out of bed.”

Asa uncrossed his legs, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his knees. He gazed out the window for a long time, watched Richard pass in and out of view. Then he gathered his instruments together and replaced them in his bag.

“Evelyn, I’m going to go out and speak to your mother for a while. If everything goes well, I won’t see you again. But I want you to know how much I’ve enjoyed meeting you.”

“Thank you for coming to visit,” said Evelyn. “You’re a very nice doctor.”

* * *

Back in the living room, Claire and Asa sat facing each other.

“She’s a complicated case,” Asa said. He reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of pills. “This aspirin should take care of the fever.”

Claire nodded.

“She’s an imaginative child. With a girl like Evelyn, even at her age, her mind is like a river. If something happens to block the flow, it just naturally backs up and can sometimes go off in strange directions.”

“I understand,” said Claire. “But what about school? Will she be able to do her studies?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. She’ll leave most of her classmates in the dust.”

Claire sighed and stood up from her chair.

Asa walked with her to the front door. “You have my number if anything else turns up,” he said.

Claire’s hand rested for a moment on the door knob. “Dr. Wheelwright, I want you to know how much I appreciate your coming over this morning. You have no idea how I’ve worried. When I called you earlier—”

“No need to apologize,” Asa said. “Anyone else in your shoes would have done the same thing.”

Claire turned the knob and the door swung open.

Out in the yard, Richard stood in his rectangle prying up chunks of earth with a shovel.

* * *

Asa circled the mysterious plot. Richard stopped digging and straightened.

“Awful nice day,” Asa said.

Richard leaned forward and spat. “Can’t complain.”

“You want to be careful what you do out here in the sun.”

Richard grinned, showing a row of small gray teeth. “I can take care of myself,” he said.

Asa cast a glance over at his truck, parked by the curb some ten paces away.

“I believe young Evelyn is going to pull through,” he said. “She’ll need fresh air and plenty of exercise.”

“Whatever you say, Doc.”

“And also support and guidance.”

Richard’s gaze drifted off into the sky.

“What did you say it was you’re building out here?”

Richard turned back. “Didn’t say. Just something to keep the family safe, is all.”

“You reckon it’ll work?”

Richard tapped at a clod of dirt with his toe. “I don’t know,” he said.