Page 67 of Stay Buried

It was just after dawn, and Uncle Thomas had finally sent Aunt Margaret to bed. She’d been up all night with us, helping with patients—answering the door when more came, refilling basins with fresh water, making coffee and sandwiches for the patients gathered in the dining room, doing her best to make them comfortable. Pearl had gone to sleep in the guest room just past two a.m., but Margaret had stayed up.

By the time the sun rose, she was staggering with exhaustion. “You need your rest,” Uncle Thomas told her. “Go up and sleep for a few hours. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for the baby.”

“But there’s so much to do,” she argued. “We need more clean cloths and towels. We’re out of blankets. I can go check with neighbors, see if anyone has bedding, pillows, or cots we might be able to use. We can move that big old table out of the way and set up a row of beds. I just need to—”

“Frankie will do it.”

“But I—”

“I’ll wake you if we need you,” he said. He made her a cup of tea laced with brandy and sent her up.

“You should sleep a few hours too,” he told me. “I’ll keep an eye on the patients in the dining room.”

“After I do the washing and clean up in here a bit,” I said. The dog was following me from room to room, hoping that perhaps her breakfast was on my agenda. I gave her some scraps, and after eating, she settled on the bed Aunt Margaret had set up for her beside the woodstove, making herself right at home.

I was hanging a load of cloths to dry on the rack in the kitchen when there was a sharp knock at the kitchen door, startling me. Aife jumped up and followed me to answer it. I anticipated another sick or injured person waiting outside.

Then I paused, my hand on the doorknob, thinking,What if it isn’t?

Patients always used the front entrance that led to my uncle’s office.

I imaginedhim, the knackerman, waiting for me on the other side, his breath whistling, his eyes burning yellow like the devilish face on a jack-o’-lantern on All Hallows’ Eve.

I grabbed my aunt’s best carving knife from the counter, concealing it behind my back as I held my breath and opened the door.

“Frankie.” Charlotte Albone stood opposite me. “May I come in? I’d like to visit with you and your uncle.”

Her round face was very serious, her long gray hair seemingly whiter than the last time I saw her.

“Of course. Please come in, Mrs. Albone,” I said with great relief, holding the door open. The old midwife was about the last person I ever expected to be inviting into my uncle’s office. In the five years Uncle Thomas had been in town, they’d mostly avoided one another, giving polite nods and smiles when necessary.

“May I take your coat?” I asked.

She peeled off her heavy wool outerwear, giving me a sly look. “Doyou often greet guests with a carving knife hidden behind your back?”

“No… I…” I stammered, flustered.

“Strange times we find ourselves in, are they not?” she asked. “Strange times breed strange behaviors. Send even the most steady-hearted of us spinning off-kilter.”

I nodded, my face burning, as I set down the knife on the counter, took the old woman’s coat.

“Would you like a cup of tea, Mrs. Albone?” I asked. “We’ve got some delicious applesauce cake Aunt Margaret made.”

“No thank you, dear. I won’t be visiting long.” She reached down and gave the dog a pat. “Hello, Aife,” she said.

“You know her?” I was surprised.

She smiled at me, still petting Aife. “There aren’t many creatures in Boone’s Ferry I don’t know. And this girl here had worms last spring. The knackerman came to me for a remedy. I fixed her up in no time.” She scratched Aife’s ears, then stood up straight, looked at me. “I understand you’ve become quite a healer under your uncle’s tutelage,” she said. Her breathing seemed labored, raspy.

I felt my cheeks grow warm. “I do my best. I’m very grateful for all of my uncle’s efforts. I’ve learned a great deal from him.”

The old woman gave me a sly smile. “Seems to me he’s the one who ought to be grateful. For having such a bright pupil. An indispensable helper.”

I looked down at the ground and gave a bashful nod.

“Just remember, Frankie,” the midwife continued. “As knowledgeable a man as your uncle is, there’s plenty he doesn’t know. And a truly skilled healer never forgets that. There are mysteries in the human body, in life itself, that cannot be explained away in any medical book.”

I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”