The Asylum (Part 2)
By: Sherri P.
10/2002
“Say
Pa, I’m thinking that we should have headed straight up for
Taking a look down at his youngest son
asleep in his arms, Ben had to agree with Hoss’s
assessment of Joe. Earlier that
afternoon, when they had left the asylum, Joe had been very insistent that he
was okay. Sure his leg ached from the
gunshot wound, but after Adam had cleaned out the wound with medicine he had
pilfered from the asylum, it had helped lessen the swelling. Looking down at the bandage, Ben didn’t see
any blood seeping out, but he was beginning to second-guess his decision when
he looked down into the flushed face of his son. But now it was too late to do anything about
it. Scratching his arm, he looked down
and saw a flea jump from Joe’s shirt to his pants. Taking a closer look, he realized there so
many fleas hopping around on Joe’s clothing they were hopping over to Ben. Scratching at his arm again, he noticed the
flea bites on Joe’s arms. Concerned
about the bug ridden clothing, Ben looked over his shoulder, and saw Adam just
behind him. Calling out to him, he
asked, “Adam, do you have an extra change of clothing in your saddlebags? These that Joe has on now are thick with
fleas.”
Thinking
for a moment, Adam nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Yes sir,” he answered, as he pulled his
horse to a stop and jumped down from his mount.
Digging around in his saddlebags, he watched as Hoss
and Ben pulled alongside him. Finally he
located a shirt, pant, and a pair of socks, “This is what I have left, haven’t
worn them yet so they are still clean.”
Guiding
his horse over to some brush, Hoss hopped down and
tied up his horse, before he went over to Ben, reaching up to get Joe. “Watch
out for his leg Hoss.” Carefully Joe was pulled down from the horse,
and was soon settled in Hoss’s arms whose strong arms
carried him over to a stand of trees providing shade from the hot sun. Getting down on one knee, Hoss
bent over and gently laid Joe down on the ground then turned around to see how
Ben was fairing. Stiff-legged from
riding in one position with Joe, Ben slowly made his way over to where Hoss had lain Joe and saw that he
was still asleep.
Kneeling
down on the ground, Ben was soon joined by Adam who moved over to help remove
Joe’s tattered clothing. Leaning Joe
into an upright position, Adam held one hand on his brother’s back as they
slipped Joe’s shirt off. As they removed
the shirt, Hoss who was standing behind Joe let out a
gasp, “Pa! He’s been whipped!”
Tossing
the shredded shirt aside, Adam held onto Joe’s back as Ben quickly took a look
at Joe’s back, and became quite angry to see the slash mark that cut across his
shoulder. Reaching up with his hand,
Adam touched and probed at the cut, before giving his assessment of the injury.
“It looks like it is a couple days old, but it appears to be healing
well.” Letting out a sigh of relief, Ben
turned his attention back to undressing his son and continued to slide off the
torn and ripped pants. Taking a moment
to look at the gunshot wound, Adam reached into his pocket and pulled out a
bottle of medicine and started touching up on the wound. Feeling the stinging pain pulsate through his
leg, the pain slowly brought Joe out of his stupor, moaning while he struggled
to push the offending medication away. “Ow!” he cried out, as he quickly opened his eyes, sending a
piercing glare towards the person whose hand was poking at his sore leg. Watching as Joe tried to push Adam’s hand
away, Ben reached down and put Joe’s hand in his own, noticing the high
temperature that seemed to be radiating from it.
“How
are you doing son?” Ben asked, as he tried to wipe some of the sweat off of
Joe’s chest. Dropping the pants that had
been removed from Joe to the ground, he watched absentmindedly as Hoss picked them up and took them where he had dug a hole
to the outskirts of where they sat.
“I’m
fine,” Joe answered, despite the tale-tell sign of fever blossoming on his
cheeks. Grunting as he moved, he had to
admit, “Although my head and back does ache a bit.”
Taking
over for Adam, Ben leaned Joe forward while he began to lightly press on his
back trying to help ease the ache that was building up. Watching as chills went racing up Joe’s back,
Ben motioned for Adam to hand him the pants.
As Ben tugged the pants up Joe’s lean frame, Adam helped in making sure
that they were being extra careful with the freshly bandaged wound on Joe’s
leg. Buttoning his pants up, Ben reached
over and helped Joe into his shirt, as he caught a glimpse of Hoss tossing the shredded articles of clothing that Joe
wore earlier into the ground. As Ben let
Joe lean up against him, he watched Hoss come over to
where they sat with the canteen of water, offering it to Joe.
“No
thanks,” Joe answered, as he waved the canteen away. Feeling his strength from earlier seep away,
he could feel a tinge of nausea settling on his stomach.
Concerned,
Adam tried to urge Joe, “Come on, you need to drink something or else you are
going to get dehydrated. You should know
that.”
Resting
his head on Ben’s firm chest, Joe had to admit that his throat was a little
dry. Maybe some water would help ease
the sick feeling in his stomach.
Nodding, he reached up, grasping hold of the canteen and slowly drank a
small quantity of water before handing it back to Adam. “Thanks.”
Looking
up at the late afternoon sun, Ben realized they needed to get back on the trail
and get as close to home as possible.
Gathering the supplies littered around the area, Adam tucked the medical
supplies back into his saddlebags then untied his, Ben’s and Hoss’s horses and led them over to where they sat. Standing up, Hoss
leaned over to help Joe up from the ground to carry him over to Ben’s
horse. Sensing what Hoss
intended on doing, Joe fought for the chance to walk on his own. “No, let me walk.”
“Are
you sure son?”
“Yes, pa.
At least let me try.” Putting his
hands down on the ground, Joe groaned when he felt the pressure from his leg
increase as he began to put weight on it.
Weakened already from the loss of blood and the chills that were
increasing, Joe briefly stood before sliding back to the ground with an
“OOOF!”
“JOE!”
cried out Hoss, as he tried to get his arms around
Joe’s upper body. With Hoss helping him stand up, Joe was able to stagger over to
the horses where Ben stood, watching the proceedings while fighting the urge to
go over and tell Hoss to carry him. Stepping into the horse’s stirrups, Ben threw
his other leg over. “Okay Hoss,” Ben said, as he shifted around in his saddle. “I’m ready for him.” Carefully, Hoss
helped Joe up to the horse nearly pushing Joe up onto the horse, before he slid
in the saddle in front of Ben. Feeling
Ben wrap his arms around him, Joe nestled in the seat feeling his energy
quickly sap away. Leaning against Ben
he watched listlessly as Hoss climbed onto his horse,
and led the way from camp.
As
the miles passed by, sitting in front of Ben, Joe could feel the secure hold
his pa had in holding him firmly on the saddle.
Without it, he was afraid he would have slid right off the horse, and into a puddle on the ground. The nausea he felt earlier in the afternoon
suddenly seemed to attack him more ferociously, sending him into a hot and cold
sweat. One moment he was burning up, and
then the next freezing. He could tell
that his pa was noticing his behavior, especially when he reached around and
placed his freezing cold hand on his forehead.
Feeling the sudden urge to throw up, Joe had just a moment to warn his
pa. “I feel sick pa,” before he hurled
the paltry sum of food that was resting in his stomach. Watching with feverish eyes, he followed the
path the vomit made as it trickled down the side of the horse’s skin before
dripping down onto the ground. In the
back of his head, Joe thought to himself that he was glad it wasn’t Buck. Hearing the voice of his pa, Joe shook his
head and tried to make sense of what was being said. Not really making sense of anything, Joe
replied, “I’m fine now pa.” Sensing the
hesitation, Joe begged, “Please let’s go on, don’t
stop. I feel better.”
Relieved
when he didn’t feel the horse slow down, Joe tried not to worry his pa with the
way he really felt. Now that he had
finally gotten rid of the nausea, he could feel the ache in his back
increase. Trying not to squirm around
much to attract attention, Joe began holding his breath in spurts hoping that
would help lessen the pain.
“Joseph,”
questioned Ben, as he watched Joe’s actions. “What are you doing?”
Slowly
letting out a mouthful of air, Joe grunted in pain before admitting his
problem, “My back aches still.” Once
those words were out of his mouth, he could feel Ben as he slowly exchanged the
reins from his right hand and placed them in his other hand, the one that was
helping hold Joe upright in front of him.
Reaching down with his right hand, Joe could feel the palm of Ben’s hand
as it massaged deeply into his back.
Drifting off to sleep with the rocking motion of the horse and the
massage therapy of his pa, all pain faded from memory and thought.
Feeling
the restful nature of his son, Ben called over to Adam. Turning around, Adam saw that Joe had fallen
asleep once again in Ben’s arms, with his head sagging forward bouncing on his
chest. Carefully exchanging the reins
from one hand to the other, Ben shook the numbness away as he spoke to Adam,
keeping his voice low, “He’s sitting here next to me with chills, even though
his body is hot. I felt his forehead
earlier, and it felt as though it was blazing hot from within.”
“We’ve
traveled a good distance today, besides it looks like daylight will be fading soon,
pa.” Adam answered as he looked off towards the west, watching as the colors
for the sunset began their nightly pilgrimage across the sky. “I think we need to make camp, and get him
settled in for the night.”
“How
far do you think we are from
Scratching
his forehead, Adam looked around at the surroundings and made a guess, “I would
guess about another two days worth of travel.
But those two days may be too far if Joe gets sick on us. There are no towns between here and
Nodding
his head, Ben had to agree. Shifting
Joe’s weight in front of him, he pulled his horse to a stop while waiting for Hoss to catch up. “Hoss, we’re going to need to make camp somewhere.”
“Sure
pa, I think I see a place up ahead that would make a great campsite.” Taking
the lead, Hoss led them to a fairly secluded spot off
the trail, rimmed by a large boulder that would do well in retaining the heat,
while fighting off the evening chill.
Dismounting from his horse, Hoss grabbed the
reins from Ben’s horse and led it over to some scrub brush, while securely
tying both horses up. Watching as Adam
unbuckled and released the saddle from his horse, Hoss pulled off his bedroll and laid it on the ground, just
before Adam rested the saddle on the ground.
Looking up at Ben, Hoss walked over to him and
reached up, carefully pulling the warm body of his brother from Ben’s
arms. Holding him securely to his chest,
he carried him over to the spot on the ground where Adam had placed the saddle
and opened up the bedroll. Bending down
on one knee Hoss laid Joe on the ground.
Adam
and Hoss watched as Joe settled into his spot on the
ground and began to toss and turn.
Turning to Adam, Hoss remarked as he wiped
sweat off of his forehead, “That boy is burning up with fever. He’s made me hot.”
Suddenly
Joe tried to flip over to his side forgetting about his injury, sending a
jarring chasm of pain through Joe’s leg.
Crying out, he opened his eyes and peered around him, seeing three other
pairs of eyes looking back at him. “I’m
cold,” explained Joe, as he tried wrapping the blanket around him. He could tell his body was warm, but he felt
so cold on the inside that no matter how many blankets were put on him, he
wasn’t sure if he’d ever warm up. He
could tell from the look exchanged between his brothers and pa, that it was a
statement that concerned them. Settling
his head on the saddle, he watched with glazed eyes, as the pressure behind his
forehead seemed to increase. Wearily Joe
closed his eyes, while listening to the noises of his family setting up camp,
as he lay on the blanket helpless to do anything to help. Wanting to help, he tried moving around on
the blanket, but stopped when the pain from his leg prevented him from making
any sudden moves. Keeping his mouth shut
he tried drowning out the groans he wanted to emit, while he lay there taking
measured breaths while trying to keep the pain at bay. Fading off to sleep, he knew nothing else
until the early morning hours.
*************
“Leave
me alone,” Joe moaned, as he weakly fought off the hands that were pulling him
from his cocoon on the ground. The
warmth from the blankets were ripped away, as the hands that took them began to
invade him and his comfort spot, while he could feel the weight of the saddle
move from its spot behind his head.
Suddenly, feeling the edges of a canteen at his lips, he began to gulp
eagerly the warm fluid that drained down into his mouth. Having drunk enough, he pushed it away and
opened his eyes. “Ahhh,
the sun is so bright!” he moaned as he quickly clamped his eyes shut. Grabbing hold of his hat, Joe put it on his
head and brought the rim down so that it cut out most of the sunrays from
hitting his face. Just as he tried
leaning forward, a sudden spasm of cramps gripped his mid-section. Gagging on nothing, he sat there coughing a
dry hacking cough, while holding desperately onto his mid-section. When he took a deep breath, it seemed to send
him further into a spasm of coughing.
Hearing
the sounds that came from within his son caused Ben to take a sudden breath,
while watching his son’s sweat glistened face turn red from the effort in
coughing. Leaning down on one knee, he
supported his son and pushed back the hair framing his face as watched Joe
struggle to catch his breath. Accepting
the canteen of water handed to him from Adam, Ben watched as Joe took several
deep swallows before turning his head away.
Pulling on his neck kerchief, Adam poured a small amount of water in the
cloth and began patting it on Joe’s face, “Hang in there, Joe. Do you want something to eat?”
Shaking
his head, Joe denied any interest in food.
Standing up, Adam looked across the camp and saw the stricken look on Hoss’s face, before moving over to the side of camp where
he was sitting on the edge of a log. “Hoss?” Adam questioned, as he
tried not to watch as a sliver of a teardrop slid down his brother’s face.
“Adam,”
whispered Hoss, as he wiped his cheek. “What if he doesn’t make it? We’re miles from anywhere, and we don’t got the stuff needed to make him well.”
Looking
at the massive frame of his younger brother, Adam again marveled at the
sensitivity Hoss seemed to posses within such a
powerful body. “Hoss,
he’ll make it. I promise you.” Looking around at the camp, Adam looked over
at Ben and Joe before facing Hoss. “I’m going to go scout out the area and see
if there is anywhere that we can get help.
Any type of help would be welcome.”
“Maybe
I should go Adam.”
Smiling
briefly, Adam patted Hoss on the shoulder, “No Hoss, why don’t you stay here and help pa with Joe, so that
you can help break camp and head on towards home. I’ll catch up with you.”
Leaving
Hoss where he was, Adam walked over to where Joe and
Ben were. Kneeling down he felt Joe’s
forehead. “How’s he doing?”
Shrugging
his shoulders, Ben looked haggard from the stress placed upon his
shoulders. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what’s wrong.”
As
Joe lay in Ben’s arms, he could almost feel the tension and stress in Ben’s
voice. “Pa?”
“I’m
right here son,” Ben answered, as he brushed the back of his hand against Joe’s
face.
“Can
we go home?” Feeling the illness that
was invading his body, all Joe wanted to do was go
home and rest in his own soft bed.
Opening his eyes, he watched as Adam walked away from where they sat and
mounted his horse. Watching Adam ride
off, Joe turned his eyes to Ben, “Where’s Adam going?”
“He’s
gone to find some help.” Straightening
the collar on Joe’s shirt, Ben felt the heavy hand of his middle son rest upon
his shoulder. “Pa, let’s get the horses
saddled and see how much travel we can get out of the way.”
Soon
the horses were saddled and ready to ride, while Joe leaned against the boulder
watching the movement in camp. Feeling
the cramps begin once again in his stomach, this time he could feel as they
moved to areas other than his stomach, making him want to roll up in a ball and
will them away. Then just as quick as
they started, they stopped. Watching as Hoss ambled his way towards him, Joe didn’t even try to get
up when he approached. Grabbing the
edges of the bedroll around his shoulder, he felt his body being lifted up by Hoss who carried him over to where his pa sat on the horse,
waiting. Settled in position, he felt
the safe comfort of his pa holding him closely, while his head tapped gently
against Ben’s chest with the gentle gait of the horse. Sliding off to sleep, he awakened several
hours later at the sound of yells in the distance.
“Pa!
Pa!” Shaking the sleep from his eyes,
Joe’s eyes squinted at the image of a man in black approaching them.
Pulling
his horse to a stop, Ben watched as his eldest son pulled his galloping horse
to a halt, “What
is it Adam?”
“There’s
a wagon train up ahead, and there is a lady there who said she can help us.”
Following
the pace set by Adam, Ben and Hoss rode until they
came upon a wagon train readying for movement, while everyone was busy packing
away their food preparations. Adam rode
up to one wagon set apart from the others and as he jumped off the horse began
calling out, “Miss Millie! Miss Millie!” Pulling their horses to a stop next to Adam’s
horse, Hoss and Ben waited for him to reappear.
From
the inner sanctions of the wagon appeared a slender old woman, dressed in a
long, dark burlap dress, tied together by what looked like rope. Her thick wad
of white hair was tied in a bun on the top of her hair. As she climbed out of the wagon, she saw two
tall, well-proportioned men standing next to her wagon and the third sitting on
a horse. Going up to the biggest one of
the two, she clapped her hands in glee, “I knows my
man in armor was coming one day!”
“Miss
Millie,” prompted Adam, as he pulled her from her admiration of his brother Hoss, and led her to where Ben sat on the horse holding
tightly onto Joe. “This here is my
brother Jo…”
“Oh
the poor dahling,” crooned Miss Millie, as her
attention was pulled from Hoss. Looking up at Joe’s face, she could tell that
he was flushed in fever and pain. “Bring this boy to me wagon.”
At
her directions, Hoss carefully retrieved Joe from
Ben’s care and carried him into her wagon, where a soft bed was made out on the
floor of pillows and blankets. Pushing
aside one of the blankets, Hoss laid Joe down, but
not before he noticed the many different types of herbs and medicinal bottles
along the interior of the wagon.
Reaching over to touch one, he heard the gritty voice of Miss Millie,
“Big boy, now don’t touch none of them bottles.
My special potions be within them bottles.”
Turning back to Hoss,
the woman continued to direct, “Big boy, take the young un’s
shirt off.” Fiddling with some of the jars beside her, she turned around when
she felt Hoss’s hand on her shoulder.
“Ma’am, I’d appreciate it if you would
call me Hoss.”
Looking up into Hoss’s
blue eyes, she nodded slightly as she replied, “And I’d appreciate it if you
dropped the ma’am and just called me Millie”.
Grinning, Hoss
was unbuttoning Joe’s shirt when his mouth dropped open, “Miss Millie, what are
these spots?”
Looking over Hoss’s
shoulder, Millie pulled back his shirt and saw a large patch of red covering
his skin. “Lord almighty,
this boy has been touched with typhus,” she replied. “While ya be here, take his pants off also.” As Hoss pulled
Joe’s pants off, he left a bit of privacy for Joe with his shortened long
johns. Putting Joe’s clothing aside, he
sat back as he watched Miss Millie rock back and forth while she chanted to
herself. “Mista
Hoss, hand me that there jar labeled garlic. Yup, that be the
one.” As Miss Millie took the jar from Hoss, she reached in and grabbed a collection of cloves
before handing the jar back. Clutching
the cloves of garlic in her hand, she began to climb out of the wagon leaving
Joe in Hoss’s care, “Gotta
make my medicine before the wagons pull out, stay with
him.”
Watching
as Miss Millie left the wagon, Hoss
cupped his hand around Joe’s warm neck and spoke softly to him, “Joe buddy,
we’ll get you healed up in no time at all.”
Feeling
the comforting hand of his brother, Joe relaxed slightly and looked up into the
concerned eyes of his brother. All to briefly he felt ok, then his temperature began to rise
and Joe could feel himself drifting off from reality. In agony he began crying out, “Pa! Pa!”
Standing
just outside of the wagon, Ben could hear his son calling out his name. Pushing the flaps of the wagon aside, Ben
crawled into the cramped space and watched with fear as his son began thrashing
around. Whispering, Hoss
warned Ben of what the old woman had diagnosed.
Rubbing his forehead, Ben could feel a headache from stress coming on as
he reached forward to hold onto Joe. “I’m here Joe. I’m right here beside you, son.” Wiping the
sweat that was collecting on his body, Ben used a rag soaked in water to try
and cool him down.
Suddenly
Joe cried out in pain, nearly punching Hoss as he
threw his hands up in the air. Concerned with the harm he could do to himself
or to them, Ben and Hoss tried to hold him down. Struggling in the hands that were holding him
down in the wagon, Joe thought they were the leather restraints from the
asylum. “Don’t tie me up! Let go of me!
Oh, GOD make them let go of me!” Hoss
and Ben’s eyes widened when they realized that they were a part of his
hallucination, and immediately they let go of him. Leaning back in the wagon, they stayed out of
the way of his flailing arms. “I can’t
breathe, I can’t breathe… get me out of the water, please get me out!” Reliving what Joe had gone through caused a
pressure to build up within Hoss and Ben’s
chest. Standing outside of the canvas
wagon, the cries of Joe didn’t go far before they wrenched the soul within
Adam, causing him to sag against the wagon, realizing for the first time what
Joe had gone through in that prison. With a heart-wrenching cry, Joe cried out,
“Pa! Where are you pa!” Traveling with Joe on his journey through
torment in the asylum tore at the hearts of each man. Watching as Joe continued to gasp out, Ben frantically wiped the sweat from Joe’s body, as he
tried not to listen to his cries. “Bob,
I can’t leave you here, please hurry… we’ll get free.” Gasping once more, Joe cried out, “I’ve been
shot, oh GOD, I’ve been shot”. Listening
to Joe’s cries, each member of his family wanted to take the pain and demons
that invaded Joe away. Crying out once
more, Joe no longer fought the demons as he passed out. Lying so still in Ben’s arms, Hoss watched as Joe rested from fighting with the torments
created in his mind. Stricken to the
core, Ben shuddered to think of what Joe had been put through.
As
the men sat in the wagon, they panted from the struggle that went to keep Joe
from thrashing around too much. Suddenly
there was a strong odor of garlic that wafted around their noses. Looking up from Joe, they watched as Miss
Millie thrust a bowl into the wagon along with a teapot. “Don’t be daft men,
grab this here bowl for me. Adam, help
me up in that thar wagon. The train leader jist
told me that we be leaving within minutes, so Mista Adam, ya might be wanting
to grab them horses and follow along.”
Turning her eyes away, she looked to the interior of the wagon and found
a spot next to Hoss, as she looked up into his soft
blue eyes. “Youse a nice man, Mista Hoss. Now ya gotta help me, so ya can help yore brother.”
Dipping her hand into the bowl, she cupped her hands and ended up with a
glob of paste that had an overwhelming smell of garlic. Feeling his nostrils open up, Hoss dipped his hand also in the paste and followed Miss
Millie and she spread the gooey mess all over Joe’s chest, arms, and legs. Then calling over to Ben, she picked up a
teapot filled with tea and poured a cup for Joe. “Mista Ben, git yore son to drink this.” Accepting the cup, Ben reached his hands
behind Joe’s head and spoke to him, trying to get him to open his mouth and
accept the tea. Watching as Joe’s nose
twitched from the overwhelming smell of garlic, Ben had the cup ready and
poured it without warning into Joe’s opening mouth. At first Joe willingly drank the juice, with
the sweet aroma of apple seeping through it.
But the more he drank, the less he tasted the apples. With his eyes still hovering between waking
up and sleep, he had enough sense about him to push the offending hand holding
the cup away. Once he succeeded in that,
he collapsed against Ben’s hands and drifted off not caring what had just been
applied to his body. Relieved to see Joe
resting quietly, Miss Millie motioned for Ben and Hoss
to follow her out of the wagon. “It
might be good for ya to follow along with that
brother in black.”
“Wait,
I want to stay with my son!”
“Mista Adam tell me that youse live in a place called
“Wait
a second, we won’t leave Joe here,” Ben protested, at such an outrageous
suggestion.
“Well
you sure ain’t riding in my wagon,
I ain’t got room for the passel of ya.”
Confounded
at this stubborn woman he was ready to yank Joe out of the wagon and head for
town on his own, if he hadn’t been so deathly ill. “Fine! Hoss go saddle our horses, we’ll follow along with Miss Millie here until we
come within riding distance of
Early
the next morning not long after breakfast had been cleared away and the wagons
had begun their journey, Joe slowly began to wake up. Having completely slept the night before and
on into the morning, the long rest seemed to have healed his body. Feeling a little bit better, it also meant
that he could smell the garlic paste that has been cast upon his body. Moving his leg slightly, he could feel the
pain where the gunshot wound was healing on his leg. As he rolled over to his side, he moaned
again as he could feel the ache in each of his muscles strain from lack of
use. It also seemed like the heat was
pressing down on him, making it difficult to breathe. Tossing off the covers, he could feel
movement below him rock back and forth, as he slowly opened his eyes realizing
the comforting hold of his pa was gone.
Confused as to where he was, he let his eyes roam the interior of the
area as it dawned on him that he was in a moving wagon. Wanting to move, but not quite strong enough
he felt a presence in the wagon with him.
Looking down towards the closed flap of the wagon, he saw an older woman
with deeply tanned skin sleeping against the rocking wagon. Watching as twigs of hair escaped from her
tightly wound bun on the top of her head, Joe was fascinated by this strange
looking creature. Almost as though she
sensed Joe watching her, the woman opened her eyes and looked directly into the
eyes of Joe.
“Yore awake,” she stated. Moving from her spot, she leaned forward and
brought her lean hands down onto Joe’s forehead, testing the warmth of his
body. “Yore fever gone
also.” Pushing open the flap of
the wagon cover, she peeked out before turning back to tie back the edges of
the entrance so that fresh air could flow in.
With the fresh warm air, it stirred up the smell of garlic, whiffing it
out of the wagon and into the fresh air. Looking down on his chest, Joe
suddenly realized that there was something covering his body. Reaching up with his hand, he swiped across
his arm and brought the mixture to his nose.
“PEWH!” he gasped, as he tried to shake off the smelly garlic. “What is this stuff?”
“That be my special garlic potion that
made ya well boy,” explained Miss Millie. “How ya
feelin’?
“I’m feeling great,” Joe replied. Moving on his bed, he grimaced slightly as
another muscle spasm went through his body.
“Uh huh,” grunted Miss Millie. “If that be great, I wonder what to be
feeling fine must be like.”
Smiling at her, Joe had to admit, “Ok,
so I’m feeling a little tired and sore, but I’ll admit that only to you.”
Returning his smile, Miss Millie asked,
“What say we take this garlic paste off ya?” Grabbing
the water bucket from outside of the wagon, she dipped a rag into the water and
began wiping the garlic paste from his skin.
Pleased to notice that the rash was gone, she reached up and felt of his
forehead once again. No fever. A smile cracking across her face, she nodded
her head as she continued wiping the paste off Joe’s body. Feeling the breeze as it stirred in fresh
air, Joe watched as the old woman reached inside a spot on the floor and
brought forward a teapot. Grabbing a tin
cup, she poured a brownish liquid into the cup then leaned Joe forward and put
it before his lips.
“Ugh,” Joe protested when he caught a
whiff of more garlic. “What is this
stuff?”
“It be a
potion passed down from my grand-daddy of garlic oil mixed with a blend of
herbs.” Determined for Joe to drink it,
she pressed the cup against his lips, “Drink up boy, or yore be sitting sorer
than a hog on fair day.”
Unable to push away the cup being as
she had somehow maneuvered her body so that his arms were trapped, Joe
reluctantly drank the liquid. Tasting
the bitter after taste of the garlic oil in his mouth, Joe began smacking his
lips, trying to get the distasteful taste out of his mouth. Watching as Joe tried to get the taste out of
his mouth, Miss Millie reached into a jar across from
her and dug out a root. Tearing it
apart, she gave a piece to Joe before popping the other half into her
mouth. Looking at it, Joe turned it
around in his hand and smelled it, before looking up at her. “What is this?”
“Ginger root,” explained Miss
Millie. “Chew it up and its gonna take away that there
taste.”
Opening his mouth, he put a piece in
his mouth and began to chew. “Not bad, Miss Millie.”
Watching as she piled up the pillows behind his back, he sank down into
him as they began to talk until he could feel his strength fading away. While Joe listened to Miss Millie talk, he
saw a shadow in the shape of a man approach the wagon. When he turned his head, he saw his pa
leaning in over the back of the wagon.
“Hi pa,” Joe whispered as he was suddenly overcome with a spell of
coughing. While he coughed, he could
have sworn it tasted like garlic from his insides.
“Hi Joe,” greeted Ben. Putting his hand over Joe’s forehead, he was
relieved to note that the high temperature had faded away. “How are you
feeling, son?”
“I’m fine,” Joe replied, as he briefly
caught a glance of Miss Millie.
Continuing, he had to admit as he laid his head back down, “Actually I’m
a bit tired.”
Watching the interaction between Ben
and his son, Miss Millie made her way over to the edge of the wagon and lifted
her legs over to climb down. Suddenly
she felt the strong hands of Ben as he easily set her on the ground. “Why thankee
mista Ben.
Youse got some strong hands thar.”
Letting go of her, he took one more
look at his son lying inside, before turning away. “It looks like he is asleep.”
“The young-in is plumb tuckered out,”
replied Miss Millie, as she reached in to tuck the covers around Joe’s limp
body. “But he be
gitten better, another dosage of the garlic oil and
he should be fit as a fiddle in a day’s time.”
Looking around her, she suddenly realized the wagon had stopped. “Why we
stop?”
Leaning against his horse, Ben didn’t
particularly care for this cranky woman but he had to admit, that whatever she
was doing for Joe seemed to be working.
“The wagon master Gallagher is concerned about a storm that appears to
be headed this way.”
Before she could reply, they heard hoof
beats riding up behind him. Turning
around, Ben watched as Hoss pull his horse to a stop,
“Pa, there’s a powerful storm headed this way.”
Following the direction that Hoss was pointing, Ben and Millie could see the swirling
clouds and the dark ominous clouds that were bearing down on them. “I know son.
Why don’t you go see if Gallagher needs any help getting the wagons prepared.”
Riding forward, the storm seemed to be
moving faster than any decisions that were being made. Before anything could be done, a cool brisk
wind blew past the men, and Gallagher began barking out directions as Hoss caught up with him.
Slowly the wagons followed the lead wagon as the gusts from the storm
became stronger and stronger.
Unfortunately by the time Gallagher had made a decision, there wasn’t
time for the wagons to get into a unified circle. Watching as debris flew past the wagons, a
few wagons started tipping over and knocking the occupants inside the wagon to
the ground. Concerned with the weather
and the way the wagons were wobbling in winds from the oncoming storm, Adam
rode his horse over to the wagon where Joe was and intercepted Ben.
“Pa!” yelled Adam, desperate to be
heard over the roar of the wind. “There
isn’t anywhere in this area that we can be protected! We need to get Joe out of that wagon before
it tips over.” Just as the words left
his mouth, a mighty gust of wind blew directly out of the north and went under
the wagon bed that held Joe and pushed on the heavy wagon. Watching with horror as the wagon tipped in
the wind, Hoss came riding up just then and was in
the process of jumping off his horse when they saw the wagon hover on the edge
of it’s wheels before tipping over with a crash to the
ground.
“JOE!”
Crying out, Ben and Adam scrambled to
calm their horses, while watching in horror as the contents of the wagon went
spilling out and twisted away in the wind.
Scared of what they were going to find inside, Hoss
was the first to scramble over to the wagon.
Shoving the wagon flap aside, he fumbled with things inside, before
pulling his body back out. “Pa, he’s
okay.”
Eyes blinking, Joe couldn’t make sense
of what had happened. Having been fast
asleep, he was awakened with a jerk to see his bedding flying around him, and
then had tumbled to a soft landing when he heard the crackle of breaking glass
and then felt herbs filter down on him.
Lying there, he had a sudden urge to sneeze when he saw his brother Hoss peek in through the wagon flap. “What happened?” Watching as Hoss
turned to the outside and said something before returning his attention back
inside, Joe could feel Hoss tossing broken glass out
the wagon. Reaching up, he could feel a
stinging sensation on his face and as he pulled his fingers away he saw drops
of blood on them. Looking up, he caught
a glimpse of concern from his family as they all approached the overturned
wagon, wiping off herbs and glass from his body. Feeling another breeze
violently blow through the area, they felt the driving pellets of rain
threatening to pound them into the ground. Pushing themselves into the cramped
quarters of the wagon, they tried not to sit in any of the smaller shards of
glass scattered on the interior of the wagon.
“Where’s Miss Millie?” Hoss asked, as he
plucked some glass out of the way.
Looking around, Ben and Adam realized they hadn’t seen her since just
before the storm blew in. Figuring that
she was in another wagon, they sat in the wagon listening to the rain as it
beat down on the wagon cover and as the wind whipped the wagon’s coverings one
direction then another. Finally, the
rain slowed down and puttered down to soft gentle rain before even that
filtered away, bringing forth the bright rays of
sunshine across the saturated the earth.
Climbing out the wagon, Hoss helped Joe out of the mess while Adam grabbed a
handful of blankets and shook them free from shards of glass and debris before
laying it on the ground. Keeping in mind
Joe’s injured leg, Ben took Joe and guided him over to
the blanket where he helped him sit down.
With uncharacteristic weakness, Joe was actually glad to be sitting
down. That brief jaunt from the wagon to
the blankets nearly took all his energy away as he settled his body on the
ground. Just as he was about to lay his
head down, he glanced over to the wagon and saw something strange. “Pa!” Joe hollered, as he struggled to sit
up. Pointing to the wagon, everyone
gasped at the sight of a boot coming from beneath the wagon.
“Oh no!”
Rushing over to the wagon, Adam, Ben
and Hoss began shoving with all their strength to
upright the wagon. Finding it hard to push
it upright, some men from another wagon came along and helped them put the
wagon back in its upright position.
Watching as the wagon wobbled back to position, the men looked down and
saw the broken body of Miss Millie left in its wake.
“Miss Millie!” Hoss
cried out, as he scrambled to the ground.
Searching for a pulse, he leaned back on his haunches and shook his
head. “She’s dead.”
**************
The following evening found Joe was
safely at home, tucked away comfortably in his own bed away from the horrors of
the asylum and the illness that followed him from there. Having driven straight home and bypassing
It wasn’t until after Dr. Martin arrived
at the Cartwright household, that he diagnosed what Joe had as something called
Jail Fever. He became even more certain
with the diagnosis when they described to him how fleas were jumping all over
Joe. Deciding this was a time to educate
his friends of a long time, he explained to them that jail fever, which was
also known as typhus was spread from person to person in places that were less
than appealing. Usually
passed on by the fleas and rats that were common in places where keeping clean
was not a priority. As he
explained what caused the illness, he took a glance over at Joe and shook his
head. “However, I can’t understand why
this young man is not any sicker than he is.
From all that you have told me about his illness, he should still be fighting
for his life.” Looking over at Adam, he
asked, “What was the stuff that the woman gave Joe?”
“I’m not really sure,” Adam
admitted. Wrinkling his nose in
remembrance, he continued, “I do know that whatever she used it had a lot of
garlic in it.”
Joe grunted when he remembered the
taste of it when he coughed. Even now
when he coughed, he could faintly taste the flavor of the garlic. “She told me that the tea she made was garlic
and a blend of herbs that her grand dad had shown her.” Pulling the covers up,
Joe wiggled in the bed trying to find a comfortable position. Continuing, he shared with them what Millie
had shared with him. “She took time to
talk with me as I laid in the back of the wagon, and
told me that she was from an area in
Nodding his head as he listened to Joe,
Doctor Martin looked over at Ben as he commented, “You know,
I’ve heard of people from that area. Direct from the Old Country they kept a
lot of their old ways, and probably found new medicines that the medical world
would benefit from.” Patting Joe on his
foot, he stood up. “I sure wish I could
have met her and discovered her “magic” potion for our boy here.”
Looking over at Hoss,
Adam caught Joe’s eye before he spoke.
“You okay Hoss?”
“Yeah, I was just thinking about Miss
Millie.”
Winking at him, Joe couldn’t help but
tease, “Yeah, big brother Hoss there had an admirer
in Miss Millie. If pa had let her, Hoss would have been Millie’s personal ‘knight in armor’.”
Smiling in memory of their first
meeting, Hoss couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, and then she kept calling me big
boy. I suddenly had an idea of how Joe
feels when we call him boy.”
Picking up his bag, the doctor walked
to the door, “Well Joe, you are doing great.
That gunshot wound is healing nicely, and you can walk around on it,
even though it is going to be sore.”
Turning to Ben, he continued with his instructions, “Ben, try and keep
him in bed for another couple of days.
He won’t admit it, but he is going to be weak for at least that long.”
Watching as the doctor left the room,
Adam and Hoss followed behind him leaving Ben in the
room with Joe. Watching as Ben settled
down into a chair next to him, Joe got the courage to speak up. “Pa, I’ve already told you a lot that
happened in that place, especially how I got out.” Rubbing his nose, Joe seemed a bit hesitant
to continue. Finally, he seemed to
collect his thoughts as he continued, “But what you don’t know pa, is that at
one point when they were dunking me in that water, I was ready to give up, and
let them win.” Looking down at his covers, he fiddled with a loose string
before continuing, “But an image of you popped up in my head, and I knew that I
couldn’t let them win. No matter what
they did, they could have my physical body, but never my mental spirit. I knew
that when the image of you appeared in my head at my most trying time, I knew
right then I had to get out of there.”
Not knowing what to say in response to
all that Joe had gone through, Ben rubbed the moisture out from his eyes before
he leaned over on Joe’s bed and gave him a long hug. Lightly brushing his lips across the top of
Joe’s head, Ben whispered to him, “I don’t know if I tell this to you enough son, but I love you and I’m proud of you.”
“Proud, pa?”
“Proud that you had the strength within
you to continue fighting on,” Ben explained.
“Many men would have given up, breaking their spirit and becoming a
shell, empty on the inside. Yet you
continued to fight on, despite all that you suffered. Sometimes you are downright stubborn,”
Grinning slightly, Ben pushed Joe from him, and lifted his chin so that he
could peer down into Joe’s green eyes, “but your stubbornness saved you, and
for that, I’m proud of you.”
Dropping his head down, Joe fought to
control his tears as emotion swelled up within him, “Thanks pa.” Not knowing what more to say, Ben reached
over and repositioned Joe’s pillow so that he could slide down into his bed and
rest. Feeling Ben’s hand moved from
behind his head, Joe grabbed it and clung to it as both Ben’s and his hands
joined together in a tight embrace of love as he drifted off to sleep.
The
End