lazy, easy manner. They walked slowly so that the very thin Ellen wouldn’t be totally exhausted. They had morning tea, but she gave Ellen milk.
A clue was that Ellen drank some of the milk slowly and didn’t appear to even know what she did was guided by her upbringing of courtesy. Someone had given her a tea, she’d had milk handed to her and she did not reject it but had courteously sipped it so as not to embarrass the hostess.
Ellen was given a square cookie that was loaded with good foods and laced with raisins and nuts. She actually ate one. It took a while.
How strange it was to Mina that she watched and waited for a guest to actually eat something, when all her years she’d been overwhelmed with hungry people who talked as they ate.
This guest was mostly silent.
Ellen looked at the things Mina mentioned and indicated, but she had no comment.
It was obvious that Ellen’s mother had raised her to be courteous. She endured. How long could Mina keep Ellen by her side? When would Ellen ask to go to her room?
Ellen’s first indication was when she mentioned, “I need to lie down.”
But before that happened, she fainted!
Anyone who lives out as far from civilization as the Keepers, is schooled in basics. And it was a miracle that the Keepers had good M.D.’s not even three city blocks’ distance away.
Mina called. The female doctor came immediately. Dr. Jane Wilkins gave the guest a quick check.
The house helpers were muscular males who lifted Ellen. It was they who quite easily carried the girl to her room.
When Ellen woke, she was in a nightgown, in bed. An intravenous bottle was putting fluid into her system.
Dr. Jane smiled and said, “You’re okay.”
“I’m sorry I...” Ellen’s voice dribbled off.
Softly Dr. Jane said, “No problem.”
“I—don’t know why I did that.”
“Your body has apparently been through a tough time, and you’re not yet ready to do much. This is the perfect place to be—to recover. When you’re up and around, you could come to the clinic. It’s not far, a couple of blocks, and we’ll see what kind of vitamins you might need—or if you need any at all.”
“I’ll probably go home.”
Dr. Wilkins said, “Not right away.” And she smiled. “Mina Keeper said if your momma heard of that, she might be upset.”
The mouth on the white face on the bed smiled just a tad.
“You are all right as far as I can see now. Are there any reasons you might be fragile?”
“I...lost a baby.”
“That takes some getting over. Relax. Sleep. Contact us at the clinic if you need anything at all. Believe me when I tell you, you could not be in a better place, right now. Come to see us in two days, or I can come back then. We’ll be in touch.”
A big tear leaked out of the side of Ellen’s eye.
Dr. Jane blotted Ellen’s temple gently. “You’re okay. Call anytime. We’re here for you, too. Of course, we also take care of the horses and cattle and what the dickens else is around and ailing. Once it was a buzzard. I’ve never cottoned to buzzards. Fortunately, one of the male doctors was fascinated. Males are odd. But we do the dogs and cats. We’re stretched. We won’t actually put a human in one of the animal restraints.”
Ellen’s eyes were filled with unshed tears but she did smile.
Softly, Dr. Wilkins said, “You are okay.”
“Thank you.”
“Sleep for two hours. That’s the limit. Then you’ll sleep tonight—like a log—and tomorrow will be easier. We’ll keep the bottle here until it’s empty. The Keepers can handle intravenous tubes. No problem.” Dr. Wilkins smiled. “I’ll check you later. Rest.”
Ellen almost smiled. Another tear slid out of the side of her eye.
The doctor said, “Hah! The intravenous must be filling you up. You’re overflowing!”
She made Ellen smile but Ellen leaked another tear.
“No more tears,” the doctor ordered. “Tears upset us.”
That made Ellen grin widely, but another tear slid out.
Blotting that casually, the doctor said, “I’ll be back to release you from that gadget. Behave. No dancing. No arguing with these stubborn people around here. Be logical and quiet. I’ll be back.”
Now...how many times had the doctor said she’d be back? What a pushover she was. She washed her hands, snapped her case together and grinned at her patient as she left.
One of the male hands sat with Ellen. Drowsily, she wondered what she’d do if she needed to go to the bathroom. She watched the slow drip of the water down the tube and she slowly slid into sleep.
Ellen woke again some two hours later. A woman was standing above her bed. She had on plastic gloves and was removing the almost empty jar that had held the dripping fluid.
Somewhat wobbly, Ellen asked, “Are you a doctor, too?”
“Naw. But don’t get scared. We all get training in helping each other out here. The doctors over at the clinic give us lessons so we can help one another if we’re out and about and they can’t get to us right away.”
“Oh.”
The woman laughed softly but with a great deal of humor. She asked, “Having a clown treat you’s a shock, huh?”
That did make Ellen smile. “Yes.”
“Don’t fret a-tall. We know what we’re doing. We have directions. We are all very careful—because somebody just might have to do the same thing to us, and we want them to be careful! What goes around, comes around. So you might need to help me some time, and I wanna be damned sure I’ve done you just right!” She laughed.
Even that made Ellen smile.
How long had it been since she’d smiled? And in this strange day now, she’d smiled several times. Would she come to the time when she could be—normal again? And just thinking that she might, another big tear of emotion slid from the side of her eye.
“Now, honey, what the hell’s the matter? Did I do something wrong? I’ve—”
“No, no. I haven’t—laughed—in some time. You see—Well—Things have been—” And she stopped.
“Never you mind. Everybody has troubles. All we gotta do is look on beyond our own selves. It ain’t easy, but if you can, you can see who all needs help.
