The Waltons 3 - The Easter Story (6 page)

“You know very well you can pass those exams, John-Boy. You just start thinkin’ about what courses you’re goin’ to take.”

It was almost like a game, as if they were pretending she wasn’t sick at all, and there was plenty of money. Still, in spite of his doubts, the conversation lifted John-Boy’s spirits.

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Mama. It’s only about twenty-five miles over to the campus. Suppose I drive over and get a catalogue. Then you and I can plot it all out.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.” She smiled and gave him a questioning look. “Do you think I’m bein’ foolish?”

“No, I don’t.”

Whether his mother’s encouragement was foolish or not, it had a dramatic effect on everyone in the family. Jason began practicing his guitar every spare minute he could find. There was going to be an amateur talent contest in Charlottesville, and Olivia convinced him he had a good chance of winning it. Ben sent off a letter to a magazine distributing company asking to be their salesman in the area—something he’d been talking about for almost a year. And Mary Ellen, who had turned down half a dozen invitations to school dances—mostly from G. W. Haines—because she didn’t have any party dresses, was suddenly studying dress patterns and following Grandma all over the house with questions about sewing.

The biggest change came in Erin. Instead of shrinking from Olivia’s illness and its possible consequences, she plunged headlong into the task of being the chief nurse of the household. Without being asked she took over the responsibilities of bed changing, giving Olivia baths, and propping her up in bed for visitors.

But for all Olivia’s efforts, it was still impossible for her to disguise the pain she was suffering. In midsentence she might catch her breath and clamp her mouth shut for an instant. As quickly as the pain passed she would smile and brush it off. “No, no, it’s nothing. I’m all right,” she would respond to alarmed inquiries.

John was more aware of it than the others. Almost every night he was awakened by her gasping and painful efforts to turn herself over in the bed. And in the mornings it took her half an hour to gather enough strength to present a cheerful face to the children.

John protested only mildly when she began making efforts to sit up by herself. Dr. Vance had warned against it. But Olivia claimed she felt far worse, and experienced more pain when she lay flat on her back all day.

The first of what she called her exercises consisted only of getting an elbow and then a hand behind her to give her enough leverage to lift her head and shoulders. Then, with this accomplished, she began the task of swinging her head and rocking her upper body enough to get herself into an upright position. As often as not it would result in her falling to the side, or suddenly collapsing back to the pillow in pain.

When Dr. Vance arrived with the splints for her legs, Olivia lay in glum silence while he adjusted and secured them in place.

“You must realize, Mrs. Walton, that these are not supports for walking or moving around. They’re simply protective devices. You still must not make any effort to move your legs or exert yourself in any way. Now, how do they feel? They don’t hurt, do they?”

“No,” she said, “I can’t even feel them.”

“That’s fine.”

Olivia twisted her head to look at them. “I just hope they don’t interfere with my exercises.”

The doctor smiled. “Well, it’ll be a long time before you start doing any exercises. In the future we’ll think about fitting you for braces. Then maybe we can work out some exercises to strengthen your arms.”

“I’ve already been doin’ it. I can almost sit up by myself.”

Dr. Vance glanced sharply at John, but turned quickly back as Olivia suddenly rocked to the side and got an elbow beneath her. She tried to get the other arm behind and swing up in one movement, but her hand slipped and she fell back. She laughed. “Well, I can almost get halfway up.”

Dr. Vance was shocked. “Mrs. Walton, you really shouldn’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Well, you may not be aware of it, but even in trying to sit up like that you tend to use your leg muscles. That’s exactly what I’m cautioning you against doing.”

“But I can’t just lie here all day doin’ nothin’.”

Dr. Vance sighed with frustration and looked over at John. But John could only shake his head. Olivia had decided to exercise, and once she had made the decision, nothing short of tying her down to the bed was going to stop her.

“Mrs. Walton, if you hope to prevent your leg muscles from being distorted, that’s exactly what you must do—lie there all day doing nothing.”

“But Dr. Vance, you say that I won’t ever walk again anyway. So what difference does it make if my leg muscles are distorted? In the meantime, I can’t see any reason not to strengthen the muscles I can use.”

Her logic was too much for him. He stared silently at her for a minute and finally nodded. “Well—you may have a point. But I’ll warn you, it’s not going to be as easy as you think.”

Olivia smiled. “Now, the next question is, after I can sit up, how do I go about gettin’ the feelin’ back in my legs?”

“Mrs. Walton, you should understand that with polio the nerves are destroyed. Now, skin or muscle, and even to some extent, bone tissue can regenerate itself. This is not the case with nerve tissue.”

“What if they haven’t been destroyed?”

“Well, that—yes, it’s true that in some cases the nerves are only partially affected. However, that is rare.”

“But let’s assume I’m one of the rare cases. Then what should I do?”

Again Dr. Vance looked at John as if for help.

“Is there some kind of medicine?” John asked, “Somethin’ that would help?”

Dr. Vance shook his head. “Not that I know of.” He sighed and got his bag. “I don’t think either of you should get your hopes up too much. The recovery rate from polio is extremely low.” He looked at Olivia and smiled grimly. “But I do admire your determination, Mrs. Walton. If those splints give you any discomfort let me know and I’ll make some adjustments.”

John walked him out to his car. “At least try to stop her from overdoing it, Mr. Walton. I’ve never heard of a patient behaving this way. Usually they’re so exhausted from the ordeal it takes weeks before they can even lift their heads.”

“Well, Olivia’s kind of an unusual person.”

Dr. Vance tossed his bag in the car. “I just hope she doesn’t regret it later.” He got in the car and John closed the door for him.

“Doc, I reckon we’re runnin’ up quite a bill for your services. But I guess I’m in about the same spot as everybody else in Walton’s Mountain. If I can pay a little bit each month, I’d sure appreciate it.”

The doctor gave him a thin smile. “That’ll be fine, Mr. Walton. However, considering your wife’s behavior, I wonder if I’m not just wasting my time coming out here.”

“Oh, she appreciates it, Doc. It’s just that Olivia’s not used to lying in bed much.”

The doctor gave him a weary nod. “Well, I’ll be back in a day or two.”

John watched him drive off and then looked up at the bedroom window. According to what Dr. Vance said, even if he had a million dollars there was nothing more he could do for Olivia. That was the frustrating part of the whole thing. And as it was, he didn’t even have enough to pay Dr. Vance to come out and check Olivia’s pulse.

John shoved his hands in his back pockets and wandered over to the truck. For several minutes he gazed ruefully at the two front tires. It was hard to believe they were still holding air. Two layers of fabric were visible on the left one, and there was a distinct bulge at one spot. The tire on the right side didn’t look much better.

The truck was loaded with firewood. In the past two days John had made a complete circuit of the valley, offering the two cords of wood at the price he usually charged for one. But no one had been even remotely interested. Most people had no cash at all, and were too deeply in debt to think about buying anything more on credit. Others had taken to cutting wood themselves to save what little money they had.

John looked over at his saw, and the big log he had dragged into place to cut into a timber for Halverson, the contractor. He wondered. If anyone in Jefferson County had any money, it was likely to be George Halverson. At least he had a going construction business. It was a chance. John took one last look at the tires, then started up the truck and headed for Ike Godsey’s.

At least the weather had taken a turn for the better. The temperature at night still dropped below freezing, and patches of old snow remained in the chilly shadows of the trees. But the sun was pleasantly warm in the clear blue sky. With the truck so heavily loaded, John drove cautiously, avoiding the worst of the deep ruts and potholes.

The iron wood stove was going in Ike’s store, giving the place a cozy warmth to go along with the smell of leather and sawdust and ground coffee.

“Hey, John! How you gettin’ along?’

“Pretty good, Ike. How you doin’?”

Ike was in the back, playing pool with Sheriff Ep Bridges.

“John, I’m real sorry to hear about Livvy,” Ep said. “How’s she feelin’?”

“A lot better’n the doctor thinks she should, I reckon. He put some splints on her legs today.”

Ike shook his head. “It’s a real shame. Now there’s Olivia, about as healthy as anybody you ever saw, and just struck down like that. Don’t make no sense at all. How are the kids takin’ it?”

“Real good, Ike. They’re all pitchin’ in, makin’ the best of it.”

“Well, you let us know if there’s anythin’ we can do to help,” Ep offered. “They don’t make ’em any better’n Livvy.”

“Thanks, Ep.”

John watched while Ike carefully lined up an easy corner shot. He missed the ball entirely.

Ep Bridges laughed and moved around the table. “Ike, if you can’t do no better’n that I’m goin’ to start shootin’ left-handed to make this a contest.”

Ike massaged his elbow. “Got a little touch of the rheumatism this mornin’.”

John smiled. “Ike, you mind if I use your phone?”

“No, go right ahead.”

John cranked the instrument and answered all of Fanny Tatum’s questions about Olivia before he asked her to connect him with the Halverson Construction Company in Charlottesville.

“Olivia’s got a big surprise comin’ pretty soon,” Fanny said while she placed the call.

“Oh, what’s that?”

“Well, I really shouldn’t tell you, but the ladies at the church are makin’ her a big signature quilt. And John, it’s just the most beautiful thing you ever saw.”

“She’ll sure like that.”

“Don’t you go tellin’ her now. I reckon it’ll be ready tomorrow or the next day.”

“I won’t, Fanny.”

A girl answered the phone and put John through to George Halverson.

“John, I wish you had a telephone up there so I could call you. I just can’t tell you how bad I feel about Livvy. How’s she gettin’ along?”

John was surprised the news had traveled so fast. But polio probably frightened people enough that word spread quickly.

“Doctor says she’s doin’ better than expected, George. I’ll tell her you asked.”

“You be sure and do that. And how are you and the family gettin’ on?”

John smiled. “Well, that’s kind of why I called you, George. I’ve been workin’ on those timbers for that bridge job you’ve got comin’ up. I was wonderin’ if you might be able to take some a little early.”

Halverson hesitated. “How early you mean, John? If you’ve got a problem storin’ ’em, I could probably put some in my equipment shed.” He paused. “But I don’t reckon that’s what you’re gettin’ at, is it.”

“No. I was hopin’ you might be able to pay for ’em early, too.”

John heard the squeak of Halverson’s chair tilting back, and he suddenly wished he hadn’t asked. He hated the idea of accepting any kind of charity, or begging money from anyone. He forced a smile into his voice.

“Listen, it’s not real urgent, George. Those things are just startin’ to pile up in my barn, and I thought if you wanted to take delivery early I just happen to have the time right now.”

“John, I wish I could accommodate you. The fact is, I been over at the bank all mornin’ tryin’ to negotiate a loan, and they turned me down. I’m not sure I can meet my payroll this week. I sure wish that bridge job was startin’ tomorrow.”

John dropped the subject. They talked about deer hunting for a few minutes and ended the conversation with John promising to come down and see him when he got the chance. He stood at the phone for a minute and looked back at the pool players.

“Hey, Ike. You or Ep got any need for some good oak firewood? Half price today.”

“Not me,” Ep said. “I got tired of haulin’ wood into the house and haulin’ ashes out. Got me one of them new oil stoves.”

“Sorry, John,” Ike added, “I think I got enough to last the rest of the winter. Oh, by the way, that refrigerator part you ordered for the Claybournes came in this mornin’. It’s right there by the cash register.”

John took the part and got back into his truck. He might as well take the thing out and install it. And today was as good a time as any to have a little talk with Stuart Lee about the facts of life.

Driving out to the Claybournes, John thought about young Stuart Lee and wondered what the boy might have been thinking when he put the one dollar bill into that envelope. He’d probably never earned a penny in his life by working. And he probably had no idea what it cost to buy food and clothing for a family of eleven people—nor any idea what it would have cost him to have someone come up from Charlottesville to repair that refrigerator. Stuart Lee’s father had bought him that new Packard roadster and sent him off to the University of Virginia, and no doubt kept his pockets full of spending money for four years. It wasn’t too surprising if the boy had no understanding about money.

John cautioned himself against getting too angry about the whole thing. Very likely when the matter was brought to his attention, Stuart Lee would be embarrassed and pull out his wallet with all kinds of apologies.

For an instant, John thought somebody was deer hunting in the area. The loud bang seemed to come from his left, startlingly close. But then there was the sharp screech of air escaping from a tire and he was suddenly fighting the steering wheel, struggling to keep the heavy load from tilting too far to the side.