Chasing Secrets (19 page)

“M
r. Sweeting! Mr. Sweeting!” Aunt Hortense shouts, half-running after Uncle Karl's motorcar.

Uncle Karl stamps on the brakes. The motorcar sputters and dies. “What's the matter?”

“Lizzie thinks Maggy has the plague.” Aunt Hortense's hands are holding each other so tightly, her fingertips are red.

“Not possible. Where is your father, Peanut?”

“San Rafael,” Aunt Hortense answers for me.

“Billy has gone for him,” I say.

“Can you get Dr. Roumalade?” Aunt Hortense asks.

“Calm yourself, Mrs. Sweeting!” Karl tells her as he climbs out of the horseless carriage.

“Will you get him?” she shouts.

“Of course I will. But it's not the plague. You're getting yourself worked up for nothing.”

“Elizabeth thinks it is.”

“With all due respect, Mrs. Sweeting, our Peanut is a thirteen-year-old girl. This is Roumalade's province. Not ours,” Uncle Karl barks.

Aunt Hortense nods, but when his back is turned, she whispers into my ear, “See if you can find any more Yersin's, Lizzie. Go now!”

I run to the cold storage room again. It has to be here. I must have missed it before. I tear the place apart looking for a bottle marked with
IP
for “Institut Pasteur.”

When I return, Dr. Roumalade is making his way out of the Sweetings' motorcar.

Dr. Roumalade straightens his coat. He reaches into the back for his doctor's bag. Aunt Hortense pounces on him. “It's our Maggy Doyle….There's talk of the plague.”

“The plague? And how has this been determined?” Dr. Roumalade takes off his hat and smoothes his bald head.

“My niece examined her. Jules Kennedy's daughter.” Aunt Hortense nods toward me.

Dr. Roumalade snorts. “A girl has diagnosed the plague? Forgive me, Mrs. Sweeting, but—”

“I told you it was nonsense,” Uncle Karl tells Aunt Hortense.

Believe in yourself.
Papa's voice in my head reassures me. “I know what I saw.”

“You're going to take a child's word for it, when every doctor worth his salt knows these plague rumors are
untrue?” Uncle Karl says. “The president of Cooper Medical College has assured us there is no plague, woman!”

Dr. Roumalade turns to me. “Does your father believe the plague is here?”

I shake my head miserably.

“Her own father doesn't agree with her. Why are we taking a child's silly ideas so seriously,” Dr. Roumalade asks Aunt Hortense.

I take a step back, ready for Aunt Hortense to tell me I'm wrong.

“Lizzie.” Aunt Hortense's voice is low and strong. “What are the signs of the plague?”

“Hard red lumps in her groin and armpits, fever, black-and-blue marks, headache, dizziness, nausea.”

“She read up on it. Does that make her an expert?” Dr. Roumalade asks.

“Maggy has all of them?” my aunt asks. Her attention is on me.

“Yes, ma'am.”

Karl looks to Dr. Roumalade. “Surely there are half a dozen illnesses that present this way.”

“Not with lumps in the armpits and black-and-blue marks.” My voice comes out boldly. I know what I saw.

Roumalade clears his throat. “I'll need to examine her.”

“Of course,” Aunt Hortense says. “But, Doctor, why would you immunize us if you knew the plague wasn't here?”

Dr. Roumalade's lips shift. “No harm in being cautious.”

Uncle Karl takes a bite of his cigar. He watches Dr. Roumalade make his way to our house. “I can't live it down if Hearst is right. You know that, don't you?” he tells Aunt Hortense.

“For the love of God, Mr. Sweeting, I don't care if Hearst is right.”

All I can do is pray that when Dr. Roumalade examines Maggy, he'll know how to help her. He's the doctor for the railroad and Comstock millionaires. They wouldn't hire a second-rate physician, would they?

—

I pace back and forth outside Maggy's room. We need Papa. Has Billy found him? Should we send everyone away, or keep them inside? And what about the yellow plague flag?…Should we hang it?

When Roumalade finally finishes, he walks right by me without a word. I chase after him down our two flights of stairs and across the way to the Sweeting house. “Dr. Roumalade? Dr. Roumalade?”

He ignores me.

In the Sweetings' kitchen, he confers with Uncle Karl.

The kitchen is silent except for their hushed whispers. Aunt Hortense and I stand in front of the stove, waiting to hear.

“Where are all the servants?” I ask.

“Gone,” Aunt Hortense says.

“Gone?”

“Last night, they heard ‘the plague,' and they took off.”

I think about the mob in Chinatown. Everybody is afraid.

“I tried to explain about immunization, but I couldn't make myself understood. The more I said, the more upset they got,” Aunt Hortense says.

“It's the same way with the smallpox vaccine. People have a hard time believing it will help.”

“It's not just that. There was some kind of crazy article in Hearst's paper. A reporter got immunized with Haffkine's, and then he wrote about the side effects. Scared them all half to death,” Aunt Hortense says.

Dr. Roumalade and Uncle Karl have finished. Uncle Karl beckons for Aunt Hortense.

I can hardly wait to hear what happened. “What did Dr. Roumalade say?” I ask when Aunt Hortense finally comes back to me.

“Not much,” Aunt Hortense says.

I can't stand this. I head back to our kitchen. On the way, I see Jing come in. He didn't disappear the way the Sweeting servants did. Noah must still be here, too.

“Jing,” I whisper, “I'll take care of Noah. I'll make sure he gets immunized. I promise.”

Jing's face turns a baker's white. He wobbles as if I've kicked him in the shins.

“Dr. Roumalade has the antiserum. We have to get him to immunize everyone. Noah, too.”

Jing's face sours. “The antiserum makes people sick.”

“That's not true. I've had it, and I'm fine. So has Papa.”

“No.” The word comes out hard and angry.

“Papa wouldn't have immunized me if it weren't safe.”

“People die from the immunization. I've seen it with my own eyes,” Jing insists.

“I'm as fit as a fiddle, Jing. You have to put your faith in science. You know that,” I say.

Jing scowls. What is the matter with him?

A
unt Hortense and I look after Maggy. She sleeps fitfully, moaning in her sleep. She throws up, then curls up into a tight ball, kicking off her bedclothes. Dr. Roumalade and Uncle Karl are hunkered down in the Sweetings' kitchen.

“It's not the plague, Peanut. It's a stomach virus,” Uncle Karl tells me. “Dr. Roumalade has done a thorough examination.”

“She was touching the rats,” I tell him.

“Doesn't mean she has the plague,” Uncle Karl says.

Aunt Hortense looks at Roumalade. “Like I said, Doctor, let's err on the side of caution and make sure our Maggy is immunized. Jing, too.”

“It's not necessary. But I will do as you wish, Mrs. Sweeting.” He walks out of the house and across the cobblestone drive to the stepping-stones that lead to our back door.

In the big Sweeting kitchen, I help Aunt Hortense stoke the furnace and boil water for tea. I've seen Jing do this enough times to know how it's done.

“I feel terrible about the servants, Lizzie. How was I to know there were two kinds of serum? The other night, Roumalade was set to give something called Haffkine's antiserum to them. Apparently Haffkine's can kill you if you've already been exposed, and the side effects are terrible. Roumalade wasn't going to use his precious Yersin's on the help. And this from a man who swears there is no plague.”

In a flash, it all makes sense. Why Mei jumped out the window. Why Jing wouldn't let Noah be immunized. It wasn't the same serum. It wasn't Yersin's. The servants were going to be given the risky immunization. And then I can barely breathe. “Maggy!”

I fly out the door and across the breezeway, up the stepping stones, and up two flights of stairs, three steps at a time, grateful for my long legs.

When I get to Maggy's door, I barge right in. “What are you doing?” I demand.

Roumalade's small eyes glare at me. “Taking care of your maid. Since you have single-handedly caused a frenzy of plague fear, your aunt has insisted that everyone be immunized. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, Lizzie.”

“Haffkine's or Yersin's?”

Roumalade's eyes register his surprise. “Who taught you to be so impudent?”

“What kind of immunization are you giving Maggy?” I demand.

“It's Yersin's. She's a maid. She shouldn't have it. But your aunt insisted—”

“Aunt Hortense paid for Yersin's,” I say.

“I know that. Didn't you hear me? That's what I'm delivering.” I see the bottle in his hand. He sticks the needle into the bottle, pulls the stopper back, and suctions the serum into the chamber.

When he pulls the needle out, I stare at the bottle. It's round, and the
IP
mark is missing. “You're not.” My voice shakes.

“Of course I am.”

I jump between him and Maggy. “Yersin's comes in a different bottle.”

His nostrils expand. “You have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I know exactly what I'm talking about. That's not Yersin's. Shall I get Aunt Hortense?”

He glares at me, the filled hypodermic needle in his hand.

“Get away from her!” I yell.

He takes a reluctant breath, then digs into his bag for the bottle with
IP
on the side and prepares another shot. I watch his every move.

He turns the label toward me.
YERSIN
'
S
.

“I'm only doing this out of professional courtesy,” he says as he immunizes Maggy.

“You're only doing this because I'm forcing you and Aunt Hortense is paying.” I stand at the door. “And now you need to immunize Jing and Noah.
With Yersin's.
” I
knock on Jing's door. I know they're inside, but nobody answers.

“Jing,” I call through the door. “You were right. The Haffkine immunization is a bad one. It can make you very sick, even kill you. Dr. Roumalade is here. He's going to immunize you and Noah with Yersin's. The immunization I had. The stuff that works. Aunt Hortense is paying for it. You have to believe me, Jing!”

I hold my breath. Jing doesn't respond. “There's not much time. Please, trust me.”

Inside I hear muffled Chinese.

The door flies opens.

Jing's face is a mask. Noah's eyes ask me a hundred questions. I nod to him, trying to convey all I know without letting Roumalade see. Jing and Noah roll up their sleeves, and Roumalade fixes the immunizations, with me monitoring his every move. Yersin's for both. First he immunizes Jing.

“Wait a minute,” Roumalade growls, holding Noah's arm. “Your aunt said
two
servants.”

“No, she didn't,” I lie with all my heart.

“I distinctly heard her. She said two. Maggy and one other.”

Panic flickers across Jing's face.

“Shall we go ask her?” I stick my face in Roumalade's. “Then I can tell her how you were set to give Maggy Haffkine's even though she paid for Yersin's.”

Roumalade glares at me, the Yersin's in the hypodermic needle. He gives the last immunization to Noah.