Wickett's Remedy (26 page)

“I didn’t want to do it,” James countered. “It was only on account of you being so awfully sick that I knew I had to. I prayed so hard for you to get better, Tom. I never prayed harder for anything in my life!”

As if by previous agreement, they all waited for Thomas to lift his fork to his mouth before beginning to eat. Though their father grinned with every bite Thomas took, his smile did not reach his eyes. Their mother watched Thomas warily, either unable or unwilling to admit that he might no longer require her vigilance. Whenever Thomas coughed, James froze while John shook his head, as if vehement disagreement with the sound might convince it to leave his brother alone. Lydia waited for the right moment to speak, in the meantime striving to appear as if she had nothing on her mind. Each benign moment gained by her silence felt like a small gift. Then dinner was over. Soon Thomas would return to bed.

“I have something to tell you all,” she said softly, regretting the tentative beginning. Her desire to go to Gallups had not diminished, but here its imperative was dampened by her knowledge of the grief it would cause. “I’m not the same as I was two days ago.” She shook her head. That had to be wrong. It could not possibly have been only two days.

Her mother reached for her daughter’s hand. “That’s all right, Liddie,” she soothed. “We’re all different than we were.”

Lydia shook her head. “That’s not what I mean.” She paused. “Perhaps it started with Henry. And then, when we received the news about Michael—” She had not meant to begin this way. “When Brian was at Carney, all I could do—all I did do—was
leave
him there. So when Thomas fell sick and I couldn’t do anything for him either—” She looked to the faces of her parents and her brothers. “That was why I had to do it.”

“Do what?” her father asked.

“Volunteer,” she exhaled, loosing the word from her lungs. None of it was coming out the way she had hoped. “They had set up tents outside the hospital, and everyone wanted fresh blankets and water and there weren’t nearly enough nurses. I might not have saved any lives, but no one should have to lie inside a tent, alone, away from their family—” Her breath failed.

There was a moment of bewildered silence.

“You helped at the hospital,” her mother began.

Lydia nodded.

“You tended to the sick,” her mother continued. “You brought them water and blankets and they were very ill, as ill as Brian and poor Alice. Not just one or two, but many, many people.”

Lydia nodded again.

“And then you came back here without a word, to sleep in the same room with your brothers.” Her mother was talking in a low voice that did not sound like her at all. “Do you mean to kill us all?”

“I took precautions—” Lydia began.

“Precautions?” her mother cried. “What sort of precautions? They don’t know what it is or how to cure it or why it’s killing so many.” She looked around the
table, as if taking stock of the family remaining to her. “Perhaps it is not very Christian of me,” she resumed, “but I won’t have you going back there.”

Lydia looked toward her father and brothers, but their faces were unreadable.

“I won’t go back there,” she conceded.

“No,” her mother quipped. “You won’t.”

John stood to clear the table, and that was how Lydia knew that he was frightened, because he never voluntarily cleaned anything.

“I have found work somewhere else,” she breathed.

To give herself strength she conjured Mr. Cory’s personnel cabinets and the expression on his face when she had said yes, his smile so broad his mask had not impeded it. “There is to be a government study on Gallups Island in the harbor, and they want nurses—”

“But Liddie,” her father protested. “You’re not a nurse.”

“I told him that,” she assured him. “Mr. Cory, that is, but it is so hard to find nurses right now, and the work they are to be doing is so important that he said it didn’t matter. He said that if it wasn’t for me the project would be terribly shorthanded. They want to discover how people catch it, you see, so that they can—”

“Do you truly know what you’re saying?” her father pleaded.

“There is risk,” she affirmed, “but there’s risk in what the soldiers are doing too, and this is an enemy that lives right here, not across an ocean, but right here, and it’s killing people.”

Her mother pushed herself back from the table. She rose to stand behind Michael’s empty chair. “You can’t
bring him back,” she said. “You can leave me like he did, and you can get sick like he did, and you can even die like he did, but none of that will change the fact that he is dead.”

No one spoke.

“I know I can’t bring him back,” Lydia whispered. “I can’t bring him back, or Henry, or Brian. But by going to Gallups I’ll be helping to stop this from happening again. To you or Da, or Thomas or James or John.”

Her mother shook her head. “No,” she said. “You left me once, Liddie, and I forgave you. But now you’re leaving me again, and you want me to believe that you’re doing it for my sake? No. If you love us half as much as you loved him, you would not be throwing yourself into his grave.”

The silence that followed was the same quiet that accompanies the witnessing of a red handprint surfacing on a slapped cheek.

“I leave Sunday,” Lydia said.

Queerly Robed Party at Bedside of Stricken Soldier

CAMP UPTON
,
N.Y.
—Sixty patients in the base hospital this afternoon bore witness of the fact that Love, which had hitherto laughed at locksmiths, was not to be baffled by Spanish influenza. There Private Walter J. McKenna wed Miss Lillian E. F. Anne, who traveled to the base yesterday from Westport, Conn.

McKenna, lying ill from the malady complicated by pneumonia, is not expected to live. He had placed the facts before his family and that of the young woman. The arrangements were made for a wedding in the hospital, where masks were provided to prevent the possibility of contagion. When it was over the bride in the gas mask, whose wedding gown had been a hospital robe, left the hospital with the father of the man she had just married.

Congratulations! Not everyone has what it takes to be a QD Tour Guide (QDTG), but those who do will find it a memorable and rewarding experience. QDTGs are very important members of our extended QD Soda family. Visitors to QD Headquarters come from all over the country as well as several foreign lands so it is important to think of yourself as QD Soda’s ambassador to Boston as well as the world! The following guidelines will tell you everything you need to know to be the best QDTG you can be.

Please take the time to study this important list of QD Dos and Don’ts:

Do

• Wear the Tour Guide Uniform (TGU)
  

• Follow the approved tour script and guide route
  

• Create your own special puppet voice (SPV)
  

• Smile
  

• Stand up straight
  

• Speak clearly
  

• Behave respectfully toward QD guests (QDGs)
  

• Have fun!!
  

Don’t

• Wear sneakers, streetclothes, and/or conspicuous jewelry
  

• Improvise your tour
  

• Show disrespect for the puppet
  

• Allow others to operate the puppet
  

• Either directly or through the puppet express personal opinions about QD Soda or its operations
  

• Either directly or through the puppet solicit or accept tips
  

• Either directly or through the puppet flirt with QD guests (QDGs)
  

• Forget to have fun!!
  

The following script and accompanying instructions should be
memorized.
You are neither authorized nor qualified to change them in anyway.

Please arrive at the tour departure point (TDP) ten minutes before your QD Tour (QDT) is scheduled to begin. Remember: you are responsible for your TGU. Your smock should be clean and wrinkle-free. Make sure you retrieve the QD Puppet (QDP) from its cubby and stow it in your TGU BEFORE arriving at the TDP. Don’t be shy; promote your QDT! At three- to five-minute intervals leading up to the time of your QDT, say:

It’s tour time, ladies and gentlemen! Don’t delay, get your tickets right away! Learn about the exciting history of America’s Most Beloved Soft Drink, QD Soda!

Direct anyone interested in the QDT to purchase a ticket from the gift shop. Every QDG MUST have a ticket,
including
QDTG friends and family members.

When the time of the QDT arrives, say:

Hello! Thank you for visiting QD Soda Headquarters! My name is [your name], and I’ll be your tour guide today!

Did you know that soft drinks are more popular than coffee, tea, and juice combined? Last year over 60 billion soft drinks were sold in this country! That means more than 53 gallons of soda for each and every American man, woman, and child, which averages out to more than one gallon per American per week!

You know, you’re very lucky to have come today, because I’ve heard a rumor that we’re going to be visited by someone very special. I have a feeling that you’re going to get a chance to meet him really soon! In fact … [Pause and appear to be listening to something.] Ladies and gentlemen, do you hear something? [Look toward the door to Room 1.] I think I hear someone in there. I wonder if it could be our visitor. Oh, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I think you’re in for a very special treat! Follow me!

As you lead your QDGs into Room 1, put one hand inside the QDP and remove it from the pocket of your TGU, while hiding it from view of your QDGs. For the rest of the tour, even when the QDP isn’t “talking,” remember to keep the QDP upright and alert. Lines in italics should be spoken in your SPV. Don’t forget to make the QDP’s mouth move when he “speaks”! Once you have entered Room 1 and the QDP is securely on your hand, turn to face your QDGs. Say:

Why, ladies and gentlemen, it’s Quentin Driscoll himself! Hello, Mr. Driscoll!

Hello there
, [your name]!
Hello there everyone!

You’ve arrived just in time, Mr. Driscoll. I was just about to tell everyone about how you invented QD Soda, but now that you’re here, why don’t you tell them yourself!

I’d love to! It all started when I was a young man of 22, just like this young lady here
[point to an older woman in the group].
In those days soft drinks were made at soda counters right before your very eyes! I was working at a soda counter
when, one night, I had a dream. An Indian chief appeared before me holding four plants in his hand. The very next morning I went straight to the library. In a book about native plants and herbs, I found the exact pictures of the plants the Indian chief had shown me, and that was when I knew they were the ingredients I’d need to make a very special soda. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was how QD Soda was born!

Open curtain using
non-QDP
hand. Say:

And this, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, is the result of Quentin Driscoll’s efforts! This window looks directly into the QD Soda bottling facility, which was built in 1920 and which, to this day, produces delicious bottles of refreshing QD Soda. Mmm, just thinking of all those bottles makes me thirsty! It makes me wish I had my own glass of QD Soda right now! Well, lucky for us we’ll get a chance to drink some very soon! Everyone, follow me!

Lead your QDGs into Room 2. Walk behind the counter. Say:

Well, Mr. Driscoll, does this place look familiar?

It sure does
, [your name]!
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to Quenty’s, a genuine facsimile of the very soda counter where I was working when I dreamed up the recipe to QD Soda. Step right up for your complimentary soda sample!

Using your
non
-QDP hand, give a cup of QD Soda to each QDG. Do not distribute more than one cup per QDG and do not give seconds.