Of Parchment and Saltwater

Chapter 23

I sat up with a start, sweat dripping down my forehead. Although I couldn't remember it, I figured it had been a nightmare that had caused me to wake up.
     Adjusting my hat and brushing off my dress, I hurried into the first room on the right and began attending to the patients.
     "Good morning, Doctor," one of the nurses said with a smile as she carried a towering pile of laundry out of the room. I returned the greeting, although I felt even more exhausted than when I fell asleep.
"Miss Louisa!" Henry called, "I feel better now, may I go to visit my father now?"
I sat on the edge of his bed and felt his forehead. "You're still quite sick," I said reluctantly, "I fear that a relapse will come before you completely heal, dear."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that I don't think you're all better yet. Will you wait a few more days for my sake?"
He smiled a little and nodded, his six year old eyes weary from the fever but still bright. "Tell my father that I'm doing well, Miss Louisa, would you? Do you think that man from France will give me any more of his candy?"
I furrowed my eyebrows. "What are you talking about, dear Henry?"
"I don't know his name," he admitted, "but he has a beard. He gave me some caramels yesterday."
With a laugh, I patted his arm and replied, "That's Mr. Girard. He manages this hospital and does quite a good job of it, don't you agree?"
He nodded and I kissed the top of his forehead before moving on.
Dr. Deveze motioned me over, and I helped him hold down a patient refusing to take any medicine.
"Are you alright, ami?" he asked, "You look tired." I nodded and took a deep breath as he set down the empty medicine bottle.
"I think I just need...I just need a moment. Please, excuse me."
     I hurried out of the room and leaned against the wall in one of the linen closets, breathing hard. I can't be sick, I repeated to myself over and over again, I just can't be sick.
     Unable to stop myself, I fell to my knees and threw up in an empty washbasin, coughing and retching and sobbing. Dark blood dripped from my lips.
     Trembling uncontrollably, I sat against the wall with my head in my hands, weeping silently. I couldn't go back out there and tell them I had the fever. I'd stay in that closet forever if I needed too.
     All of the exhaustion and weakness and emotional trauma over the past few weeks had culminated into a fragility that made me extra susceptible to the disease. And now, I was trapped in Philadelphia, possibly never to see my husband or son again. How could I have done this to them?
     Another wave of nausea hit me and I pitched forward, vomiting once more in the washbasin. Tears streaming down my face, I stumbled out of the linen closet and fell into Mr. Girard's arms, unable to speak.
     "Mrs. Tallmadge!" he exclaimed, holding me up and putting a hand to my face, "What is the matter?"
     "It's got me too," I sobbed, leaning against the doorway weakly as he calmly tried to help me into a room. His reassuring personality was especially helpful now.
"Alright now, Louisa, you know how this works. You're going to be fine, oui? Would you like something to drink?"
I nodded silently, trying my hardest not to make a scene for the other patients as I laid down in a bed. "Water, please. Do whatever treatments you'd like to me, sir, I just need to get better. I can't leave my family-"
He smiled a little. "I know. You've been through enough with other patients to know that you can survive this. Think of this as a well-deserved break, my friend. Now rest; I'll have someone with water mixed with volatile concreted alkali. Do not fear this."
My mind was reeling as he walked away. Sweat beaded on my forehead and I could feel my pulse in my ears.
Frantically, I tried to remove all the layers of clothing I had on to escape the burning heat but it only made me more frustrated. My stays were laced too tightly and petticoats tied in tight knots around my waist.
     "Rebecca," I breathed, beckoning to one of the nurses from the Free African Society, "please help me."
     "Ma'am? Have you caught the fever as well?"
     I nodded, gulping in air. "Would you help me take off my stays and petticoats? I'm going to have a heatstroke."
     A compassionate smile came upon her face and she knelt beside me, helping me turn on my stomach and unlacing the silk threads. I slipped out of the linen petticoat and she neatly folded each part of my dress into a pile and set them under the bed.
     Sweat had soaked through my chemise, which was all I was wearing now, and I could already see my skin turning a terrible yellow color.
     Rebecca tried to comfort me but I could barely think. Before I could even answer her offer to bring me anything, I was unconscious.