Streams of Mercy (24 page)

“Good. Now let’s think some more. The farmers around here don’t have much hay left from winter, and the first cutting is not for a week or two yet. But there are those willow thickets down on the river. Do ye think elephants might abide willow?”

Manny brightened. “I could go cut some willow limbs and bring ’em up here, try ’em and see if the elephants like ’em.”

“Excellent plan!” Devlin stood up. “Ye go do that, and meself shall make some phone calls. Is your knife sharp enough to cut willow withes?”

“Yes, sir! Grandpa Haakan, he showed me how to keep it sharp.” Manny hopped down out of the car and ran off.

Devlin paused to smile.
Grandpa Haakan.
Ingeborg had told him about the lad’s initial hostility and how much he was growing. Growing indeed! He even had a worthy grandpa to emulate now. He climbed down, walked over to the mill, and entered the office.

“Mr. Devlin!” Mr. Wiste stood up. “How is it going out there?”

“Top of the morning to ye, sir. Might I use yer phone?”

“You may.” The man stepped aside.

Devlin rang for the operator. “Top of the morning, Gerald. Might I speak with Ingeborg Bjorklund? Thank ye.” He waited. When Ingeborg answered she sounded tense, worried. No wonder. “Ingeborg, yer Manny is here with the circus and will not go home. So far he seems well and lively. How be yerself?”

She sighed. “I thought that was where he’d be. He is fascinated by the elephants. Ja, he should definitely stay there.” She added, “Oh, and Freda and I are fine so far too. Thank you.”

“Excellent. Now, we’ve a situation here that ye may be able to help with. There not be enough circus folk to properly care for
the animals. I have the thought that we could turn the grazing stock out in nearby pastures. Let others tend them. ’Twould relieve the circus of some of its burden. What think ye?”

Silence for a while. Then, “Ja, I’m certain we can take care of that. With the sheep and calves, I don’t have pasturage here on my farm for all of them. But the other farmers around, I’m sure, can help. The goats, are they milking some of them?”

“Sure. But not regularly, I fear. And there be two cows, a Jersey and an Alderney. They provide the fresh milk for everyone in the circus, as I understand it.”

“Alderney.” She chuckled. “We call them Guernseys around here. Can you find someone to milk the cows there? Regularly, I mean.”

“We can try.”

“No, I have another idea. If we milk the cows and goats, we can give the people there as much milk as they need, then buy up the rest and give them the money. I can use the extra milk in the cheese house, and I’m sure they can use the money. They must be canceling so many shows.”

“Ah, Ingeborg,” Devlin purred, “’twould be the perfect solution. Let me talk to Mr. Stetler.”
But believe me, Ingeborg, I do not want to, that liar. ’Twill be a hard thing.
He did not say that out loud.

“And you’re sure Manny is all right?”

“So far, aye. He be muckle fine, that young man. He is tending the big cats and chimp as well.”

“I’m sure he would love that.”

Devlin continued, “Now I’m thinking about the seals. The circus has two seals. I believe they’re referred to as sea lions, technically, though I’ve no notion of the difference. No matter; they all eat fish. We need a source of fish.”

“Oh my! The boys would love to go fishing every day and
supply the seals with fish, and the girls too. Emmy is a very good fisherman. Fishergirl.” She paused. “Thomas, the circus is a disaster in the middle of Blessing and could bring death. But the bright spot is the children will love helping the animals. We have to keep the bright spots in mind.” Despite the upbeat note, her voice sounded so weary.

Weariness? Dread. That was what he was hearing. Dread. And he shared it. So many ill, so many dying, and it was far from over. “Aye, we must do that.”

Her voice firmed up. “I will arrange to take the grazing stock and see about regular milking.” She chuckled again. “And send the children out fishing. And you are going to confirm all this with Mr. Stetler, is that right?”

“That is right. Thank ye from the depths of me heart, Ingeborg.” They exchanged good-byes and he hung up.

By his shoulder, Mr. Wiste said, “I could hear what she was saying. A fine plan, Mr. Devlin, but what if Mr. Stetler won’t cooperate? What if he says no?”

Devlin thought about what the sheriff, Charlie Becker, had said. “
Bjorklund, I’m sworn to protect the citizens, and the citizens’ lives were at stake. I didn’t
need any legal basis. I did it
.” There were times to use tact, and there were times to take the bull by the horns. “He’ll have no choice.” He headed for the door.

He would check the menagerie first. The lion roared when he passed that car. As he approached the elephants’ car, Manny came leaping out, and he was jubilant. “Mr. Devlin, they love the willow! Gobbled it right up. I’m going out to cut some more.”

“Splendid! And when ye’ve finished, might ye look in on the cats? How often do the tiger and lion eat, do ye know?”

Manny studied the ground. “I’m trying to remember. I don’t
know. The cat keeper—he takes care of the chimp and seals too—hasn’t been by today that I see. Is he sick too?”

“I’ll make sure, but if he’s not been by, probably he is. Can yerself tend to them?”

“I’ll have to talk to him and see what they need. And how much. Mr. Devlin, I could get sick too, right? Being around here so close to everyone.”

“That is right.”

“And I could die.”

“Quite possible, aye.”

Manny studied him. One could almost see the wheels turning. “But the animals are helpless. They need stuff—food and cleaning up after. And if there ain’t nobody to do it, and I can do it, I’m bound to stay here and do it, I think. Right?”

Devlin swelled with pride. This young man was not his, would never be, but look at him! Devlin laid a hand on his shoulder. “Manasseh, lad, ye’re wise and brave beyond yer years. Aye, go cut the willow.” The lad—no, not a lad anymore—ran off with his crazy limping gait.

“Father Devlin?” Miriam said as she approached him. “We’ve three people who are asking for blessings and prayers, as they fear they are dying.”

“Thank ye, lass.” Devlin walked to the tent. Miriam led him to a cot with a fairly young man.

The fellow turned to look at him. “You’re a real priest?”

“As real as they get.” He would not tell the fellow that he was Anglican instead of Catholic, as if that were important at the moment. He would simply use the Latin, surely familiar to the man. “What be yer role with the circus?”

“I’m a clown in the first part and after intermission I’m the lion tamer. And I take care of the cats and seals.”

“Excellent. We have a young man taking over yer duties with
the cats and all—not with the clowning. After we perform this service, Miriam, perhaps ye will take notes as he tells ye what needs doing in regard to the animals in his care.”

“You’ll take care of them?” the fellow asked brightening. “Really?”

“But not as well as ye do, for we not be experienced. So yer first duty is to get well, that ye might take over again.” Devlin pulled out the little vial of holy oil that hung on a cord around his neck. “And now I remind ye, as we begin, these prayers be no death sentence. I’ve performed it many a time on people who then got well. ’Tis a precaution and no more. Ye understand?”

“Yes, Father.”

Devlin had been doing this so much of late that he could recite it in his sleep. He had to fight to keep interest, to keep inflections, to keep it from sounding like a recitation by a bored man.

This clown and cat keeper relaxed, half smiled.

Devlin finished the prayer. “Remember, sir, ye’re to get well so that the animals prosper. Now tell Miriam here what ye need of the young man filling yer place.” He went on to the two who had died. Two today so far, three yesterday. Were they over the hump?

And what about this young man who was the elephant keeper’s son? His eyes were closed but not sunken. His muscles were not stiffening. As dead as he seemed, he apparently was still alive, barely. On impulse, Devlin prayed the prayers over him. Then laying both hands on the boy, begged for healing, not only for him, but all those ill.
Lord, help us. Please show us your mercy.

And now he had the most difficult task of all—speaking with that Mr. Stetler.

But first, to avoid the inevitable just a wee bit longer, he stopped again by the menagerie. The goats and horses had been turned out to pasture. He heard seals barking in one of the cars. The lion roared in another.

“Patience, King of the Jungle, patience. Soon as we learn what to do, ye will be fed and cossetted like the royalty ye are.”

Manny was trundling a wheelbarrow of elephant excrement down the ramp of the elephant car. He was sweating. And grinning. He lowered the barrow and stood up straight. “Mr. Devlin, I wouldn’ta guessed this part would be fun. You know, that Violet stepped aside and got out of the way so I could shovel out her place. Elephants are smart. Way smart!”

“And so be elephant keepers. Ye’re doing fine. Go see Nurse Miriam. She is interviewing the cat keeper.”

“Then I better go listen!” Manny ran off before Devlin could tell him not to. But then, so what? The lad had already been exposed a dozen times over. Either he would get sick or not. Going into the infirmary tent wouldn’t change anything.

Here was the manager-owner’s private car.
Owen Stetler
was lettered on the door. Devlin rapped briefly, paused, and went in.

Mr. Stetler turned and looked at him from a big oak rolltop desk. “Can I help you?”

“My name be Thomas Devlin.”

Mr. Stetler stood up. “Devlin. Devlin. My cat keeper said he needed the services of a Father Devlin. Would that be you?”

“The very same. I just came from there, and the matter be all taken care of. I wish to discuss with ye the welfare of yer animals.”

The man stiffened, frowned. “I’m not particularly a man of faith, so I have no idea what he needed from you, but I doubt it had to do with animal welfare. I mean, a priest . . .”

“This has naught to do with that.”

“Uh, be seated.” Mr. Stetler motioned toward a chair, so Devlin took it. Stetler sat back in his desk chair. “Now. What’s going on?”

“Ye’ll not be leaving anytime soon, we believe, so the local
farmers are ready to take in yer grazing animals temporarily. They’ll keep them milked, fed, watered. Ye’ll get all the milk ye need, and the farmers will buy the rest. We’ve a cheese house in town, quite a good one.”

“You mean disperse my stock? Those are extremely expensive animals, even the goats. Carefully trained to do tricks, you know. And the horses are worth thousands. No, I think not. They stay here.”

“The pasture where ye turn them out is eaten down already. ’Twill not support them much longer. And the elephants require hay, which ye do not have.”

“No. We’ll make do, but . . . no. Absolutely not.”

“Mr. Stetler, I give ye this, which ye already know. Ye need us desperately. But we do not need
you
. At all. Indeed, there be a strong move afoot to pile yer sick back into the train and drive ye out of here.”

“No.” The man smirked and shook his head. “No, the good people of Blessing would not do that. No one with an ounce of Christian charity would do that.”

“I am assured the folks of Grafton have no less Christian charity than anyone else, but they sent ye away.”

Stetler lost that smirk. His face went flat. “You don’t know that.”

“Aye, we know that, and we know yer perfidy. Grafton not be the only town that refused ye. And ye endangered the whole of Blessing by stopping here. That we know well.”

“Only for a little while, until our sick get better. And we’ll take care of our animals, not you strangers.”

“And whom will ye put to that task?”

“That will be my concern and mine alone. I’m in charge. No. Your people are not going to run off with my stock! That’s final. Why, you could take all our milk for yourselves—in fact, all the animals. Butcher them. Sell them. What a lovely opportunity to
enrich yourselves at the circus’s expense! You can rob us blind and no recourse for us. The animals will not leave my control. Do you understand? And the townspeople will not interfere with their care. No. That’s the end of it. Now, I believe we’re done here.” He stood up.

Time to play the priest card, Devlin.
He stood up too. “I beg to differ. Who will care for yer sick and bury the dead? Ye toss ‘Christian charity’ about so free. ’Tis our charity ye need.”

“I said—”

Devlin pressed forward. “And ’tis not just the priestly duties ye need. Yer stock are starving. I’ve seen for meself that yer hayricks are empty, yer people ill abed. And where will ye find the forage, the fish for yer seals, the people to clean up the dung? If the town withdraws, we will indeed send ye on yer way. Then when yer stock starves to death, or God forbid, yer people die, ye’ll have nothing. By not trusting us, ye will lose it all, Mr. Stetler. Ye cannot afford to distrust us, not now.”

Stetler wagged his head.

Devlin softened his voice as he moved toward the door. “Aye, it might well be that we are crooks and shysters who will strip ye of everything ye own. We ask that ye trust us, but if we intended to prey upon ye, ’tis exactly what we’d say. But it could also be that we be willing to risk our lives to serve our God. Ye see, Mr. Stetler, we don’t do this Christian charity to serve yerself. We serve God, and He said that in serving the least of these—which be yerself, I aver—we serve Him. Nay, ye cannot trust us. But ’tis time to give us the benefit of the doubt.”

Stetler looked stricken. “I don’t want to lose this.”

“And we don’t want suffering and death if it be within us to prevent it. We will look well after yer livestock. And after yer people. Good day, sir, and God’s best to ye.”

He left.

C
HAPTER 19

T
he symptoms show up anywhere from two to seven days after exposure.” Astrid looked right at each of the gathered group in the hospital. “If you get a sore throat or start to cough, you have to tell me. Promise?” Coughing would be obvious but not the other symptoms. They all nodded. “We are counting on you to not try to play the hero.”