The Peeler

By: Will B
(© 2009-2010 by the author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

“Excuse me, sir,” said Jane. “We’ve had tea, but I have some chicken soup that I was preparing for a light supper later on.  Perhaps the young gentlemen would like some good hot soup now.”

“Jane, that’s an excellent idea. Thank you,” Frederick said. “Would you two like some chicken soup?”

“Oh, yes, please,” Tom said. “We haven’t eaten for…”

Little John had another fit of coughing.  Jane went to him, and felt his brow, and exclaimed, “Oh, mercy! The lad is burning up with fever.

Frederick said, “Williams, would you mind stepping around to Dr. Buchanan’s and ask if he could come back with you?”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir,” said Williams and off he went.

Chapter 6

Frederick ran after him and said, “It’s pouring out! Here’s two shillings. Take a hansom to the doctor’s office and bring him back in the cab.”

Tom picked up John and carried him up to a bedroom and put him on top of the bed. Frederick lit the fire in the fireplace and then went back down stairs to greet the doctor when he should arrive.

Twenty minutes later, Dr. Buchanan arrived and said, “Och, mon! It’s pouring out there. Thanks for sending the hansom. Now, where’s the patient?”

Frederick took him up to the room, and Buchanan said, “It’s a bad fever. If we can get it to go down, I think he’ll be all right.’

It was then about five-thirty in the afternoon, and while the rain streamed against the window, Dr. Buchanan bathed John’s face and continually wet his lips with cool water.

Tom ran up and down stairs, bringing clean cloths and fresh water. Frederick and Edward could do nothing but wait and watch and hope.

At eight-thirty, Frederick said, “Nicholas, why don’t you go up to your room and get ready for bed? We’ll be up to say good-night shortly.”

Nine-year-old Nicholas looked at Frederick, and asked, “Mr. Fred, is Johnny going to die? Please don’t let him die, please!” Nicholas’ hazel eyes were almost brimming over of tears, but such was his faith in Frederick and Edward that he thought they could do anything.

All Frederick could do was hug Nicholas and say, “Dr. Buchanan is doing the best he can, Nicholas.” Frederick could hardly keep back his own tears.

Frederick and Edward went upstairs to say good-night to Nicholas. As they approached his bedroom door, they heard him say his prayers,” Dear God, God bless Mr. Fred and Mr. Ed, and please make Johnny well. I hope it’s alright with you, God, but I feel I want to call Mr. Fred ‘Papa Fred,” and Mr. Ed, ‘Papa Ed.’ They are so good to me and to everyone in this house, I just feel they are like my real dad, who died … and God, I hope Johnny will be well, because I would like to be his brother. Please, God … Oh, and God bless Reverend and Mrs. Bredon. Amen.”

The two men went into Nicholas’ room, and Frederick said, “Good-night, son,” and Edward said, “Pleasant dreams, son.”

The two men went into Frederick’s room and just held each other as their tears flowed.

At twelve midnight, Dr. Buchanan came out of Johnny’s room and said, “The tide starts to go out at two o’clock. If Johnny lasts that long, he will be alright.” All three men knew of the belief held by many people who lived near the water that sick children and sick old people died as the tide ebbed, but if they lived after the tide had started to go out, they would be alright.

Jane Barton and John Williams came upstairs each carrying trays. Jane’s tray held a coffee pot, cups, and saucers. John’s tray had some sandwiches.

“Take some coffee and sandwiches, everyone,” said Jane. It will be a long night, and you need to keep your strength up.”

Dr.  Buchanan, Tom, Frederick, and Edward sat down at a table and drank some coffee, but Tom jumped up after a few minutes, and said, “I don’t want to be away from Johnny in case he needs me.”

One o’clock chimed from St. Botolph’s, ‘bing, bang, bing, bong, bing, bang, bing, bong, bing, bang, bing, bong, bing, bang, bing, bong, bing, bang,’ and then ‘bo-o-o-m!’

Then one-fifteen rang out: ‘bing, bang, bing, bong.’

One-thirty sounded: ‘bing, bang, bing, bong, bing, bong, bing, bang.’

At one-forty-five both Frederick and Edward were pacing the floor as they heard: “bing, bang, bing, bong, bing, bong, bing, bang, bing, bong, bing, bang.’

At two o’clock, St. Botolph’s sounded once more: ‘bing, bang, bing, bong, bing, bong, bing, bang, bing, bong, bing, bang, bing, bong, bing, bang,’ and then ‘boong!

Bo-o-o-m! Bo-o-o-m!”

Dr. Buchanan opened the door and said… “The fever’s broken. He’s sleeping naturally. He’s going to be fine and when he wakes in the morning, just give him some broth and bread.”

“Adrian, what can I say?” Frederick asked. “Thank you so much for being here.” He shook the good doctor’s hand and went downstairs to see him out. The rain had stopped, and Dr. Buchanan was preparing to walk home, when a hansom cab was luckily passing, and Frederick hailed it, and paid the driver to take the doctor home.

Frederick told the good news to Jane and John and then went upstairs to find Nicholas coming out of his room, rubbing his eyes. “I heard Dr. Buchana talking. Is Johnny going to be alright?” he asked.

“Johnny is going to be alright, son,” Edward said, “and, Nicholas, one of your other prayers is answered. ‘Mr.’ Fred and I would be honored if you would call us each ‘Papa,’ because we have come to think of you as ‘Son.’

“Well, then, Papa Fred and Papa Ed, thank you.” Nicholas hugged them, yawned, and then sent back to bed.

In their room, Fred said to his partner, “I’m definitely going to church on Sunday. How about you, my love?”

“Absolutely,” said Ed, and the two men looked at each other, realizing they were all becoming a family. Their love-making that night was gentle at first but gained in passionate intensity as they delighted in exploring each other’s bodies. Tongues, fingers, and other appendages got a full workout, but the physical pleasure was surpassed by the joy in their hearts.

The next morning, at breakfast, Nicholas was there, looking after Johnny as if he were his little brother, instead of the other way around! Frederick and Edward discussed the activities of the coming days.

 “We’re going to church this Sunday,” said Fred, “and I think that Saturday night, Edward and I will take the boys to the bath house to get ready for Sunday. Tom, you can come, too.”

Edward interjected, “Fred, today is Wednesday, and I think we ought to visit the bath house two or three times a week. The weather is hot, and I believe that cleanliness is a good thing!”

“You’re right, Fred. Let’s plan on Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Now,” Frederick went on, “Who's coming to church on Sunday? John? Jane?”

“Oh, Mister Fred, Jane and I are chapel. We’ll leave a cold supper and then go to hear Reverend Johnson preach at Andrew Chapel,” Jane said. “We’re not comfortable with the ‘high church’ ceremonies.”

“Fine, that’s settled then.”

Dr. Buchanan came several times to check on Johnny’s progress, and whenever he came Tom was right there to assist him if needed, and to talk to him about how to become a doctor: Was it hard? What training was necessary?

“Tom, can you read and write?” Dr Buchanan asked him.

“I can read, but my writing isn’t so good,” was the answer, given sheepishly.

“Well….hmm…,” Buchanan pondered. You have your studies here during the week, but if Frederick approves, I could use an assistant on Saturdays. I couldn’t pay much, but you could see what is involved in helping people who are sick. A lot of it’s dirty and messy work, but that’s all part of what a doctor does.”

Tom’s eyes shone as bright as stars. “Doctor, I … I don’t know what to say. I’d be so happy ... Oh, thank you!”

Frederick was happy to approve the plan, and as Dr. Buchanan was leaving, a very scared maid-servant came to the school’s door. “What is it, Sally?” he asked.

“Oh, Doctor, you’re to come right away, Sir. It’s the missus. Her time has come and the pains are getting closer and closer.”

“I have to go, Frederick. My wife is about to … to … have a baby!”

“Go, man, go,” said Fred, practically pushing him out the door.

Later that day, about two o’clock, the same maid-servant came back. “Please, Sir, I am to say that the missus has had a fine baby boy, and she is recovering nicely. The doctor invites you and Mr. Edward and Mr. Williams, and maybe young Tom to come around this evening about eight o’clock to have a drop of something to ‘wet the baby’s head,’ were the doctor’s words.  I don’t know why anybody would want to get the poor baby’s head wet. He might catch a chill!”

“Never mind, Miss Sally. It’s just an expression. Tell your master, we’ll all be happy to come,” Fred said with a laugh.

Another maid came to the school, this time with a note for Jane. “Please, Miss, this is from Mrs. Bredon.”

Jane took the note and read:

‘Dear Mrs. Barton: The Reverend is going to go to Dr. Buchanan’s this evening and I was wondering if I might visit you. I have some recipes I’d like to share with you, if I may. Sincerely yours, Harriet Bredon.’

Harriet wrote back, and said she would be delighted to have a visit from Mrs. Bredon. ‘She’s quite a nice person, even if she does go to that ‘high’ church,’ Jane

thought to herself.

At seven-forty the men from the school left for Dr. Buchanan’s. On their way they met Reverend Bredon and the five men walked to the occasion of ‘wetting the baby’s head,’ chatting amicably.

At seven-forty-five Harriet Bredon arrived at the school, and was received by Jane, who took her back to her parlor, where they enjoyed a comfortable chat, a delicious pot of tea, and a delightful plate of pastries which Jane had taken out of the oven a few minutes earlier.

“I hope the men-folk don’t imbibe too deeply,” Jane said. 

“I know what you mean, dear Mrs. Barton. The Reverend is usually the most abstemious of men, but when he’s at a gathering of other men… Well! He does sometimes … shall I say ‘enjoy himself quite a bit’?”

 

“Oh, my!” Jane said ruefully. “I don’t suppose I could tempt you with a glass of my elderberry wine...? Just a drop to keep the chill out? Even thought it’s July, sometimes there’s a chill wind from the river.”

“How kind, Jane. May I call you Jane? And please, call me Harriet. Perhaps just one glass, if you would be so kind,”

As the evening wore on, Jane and Harriet became merrier and merrier, and the level of wine in the bottle kept getting lower and lower.

At Dr. Buchanan’s house the men were gathering to ‘wet the baby’s head.’

Now, Tom,” said Adrian Buchanan, “I’m happy to have you here, and I am going to allow one glass of whiskey, well-watered, if Mr. Fred and Mr. Edward will allow it.”

‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” said Tom (but he was hoping he might get a second glass somehow. Maybe that maid Sally would take pity on him!).

After the toasts, and the speeches, Dr. Buchanan said, “I have been thinking, gentlemen. Young Tom would like to be my assistant on Saturdays. If he does well, I can tell him that there might be a place for him at the Medical College at the Royal London Hospital.* It’s my old alma mater, and I may be able to put in a word for him … but I said only one glass, Tom. No use asking Sally. I know what you were thinking!”

“Yes, Sir. Sorry.” Tom was embarrassed and excited and happy—all at the same time.

 Soon it was time for the guests to take their departure. Reverend Bredon hailed a hansom, so he could go to the school to take up Mrs. Bredon.  Tom was talking to John Williams.

Frederick and Edward were walking a little more slowly, talking about this and that. They had fallen behind the others, and suddenly Edward said, “Listen! I hear running footsteps.”

Out of the gloom the two men saw two figures running towards them. 

To be continued...

Author’s notes:

*The Medical College at Royal London Hospital was founded in 1785.

To my readers: I hope you all will have had a Happy Thanksgiving. Safe travels if you’ll be on the roads or in the air.

As always my thanks to my reader, mentor, and friend, “Critter.”

Posted: 11/26/10