Chamlay fluttered the money.
Ones, he said. Now what would your opinion — missus — be? I say, and Luther says, it was a sign. What do you think, missus? What would you think if you was us? What do you say?
She fell quietly, uncaught.
Stitt began to shout and George to rock in his chair, cradling his head.
I'm not used to this — it hurts.
I know, Georgie, just relax, Menger said.
I think I heard the back door, Luther said, I think those kids went out. You've boots on, Menger, go and see.
My brother's hurt, Menger said resentfully.
Chamlay put the folded money neatly on the table and placed his hands gingerly over his ears. Furber was carefully gathering her up.
She's too heavy for me, he said, but everyone kept their eyes averted and no one offered to help. Jews tear their clothes up, Furber murmured, struggling. Wise.
He wavered in front of Chamlay.
You know how long it's been since I've eaten?
Chamlay did not reply. He tenderly touched his eyes with the tips of his fingers.
We're well met, madame, Furber said, may I make a lewd suggestion?
Stop babbling, Furber, Hawkins said, you make me sick. A flag-switcher — you sonofabitch.
I am Philly Kinsman, the celebrated bandsman, Furber sang, you fellows may have heard of me.
Help Jethro with her, Luther, will you, Chamlay said, he's unable.
No help from swine, Furber cried, beginning to move. I didn't believe, he whispered to her, I only imagined; I never knew, how was I to know that what I said was true?
Chamlay jerked about and leaned over the table to peer through the front window, rubbing circles on the glass with his sleeve. Tott had hidden his head in his arms.
Singing, Furber lurched down the hall.
And I've a dick that's like the stick I use to beat the boom-a-lay.
Hawkins laughed.
Nuts just nuts.
Stitt began obscenities.
Olus Knox and Doctor Orcutt, red-faced and tightly wrapped, burst in, snow swirling around them, snow on their caps and collars, snow in the creases of their mittens, snow up their legs to the thigh.
Well Orcutt, Chamlay said, it's good you're here.
Good, is it, Orcutt said, stamping his feet and shaking himself. I've never been so cold. Everybody best be dead or in that neighborhood.
Knox put Orcutt's case on the table, sniffing and puffing and milling his arms. Snow fell in clouds from both of them.
Orcutt! I'm bled out and broke up and no one comes to sit by me, the bastards. Orcutt! They are no damn good, Orcutt, none of them.
Dear me, that's Boylee, Orcutt said, uncoiling his scarf.
My eye — it's my eye — I ran it on a branch — it's swollen — look.
Well George, morning. And Luther. Meng. Everybody here, hey, waiting. How about coffee?
I'll see if there is some. Menger, hunt them girls. You've boots.
Come on back here, Doc.
Well easy for a moment till I warm, Orcutt shouted. Is that dear Henry's carcass in the snow? Aaah. My noble beard is frozen, look at that. A bad sign. A poor beginning. It's really Henry, eh? Olus told me a liar's story. And so he departed, as our good friend Furber would say, much mourned, but not missed. Whew. And where is Furber? Didn't he come out here with you? Is that him lurking in the hallway? Olus said… um… and there's the child? Well. No noise from him.
How's old Emma, Doc? I heard that you was out along her some this morning.
Well she's sad, Luther. Not so sick as sad. She's took syphilis from the Sioux. Struck down in the prime of her age.
Luther roared and struck the wall with his fist.
I'd never have trusted that Indian on my place, he finally managed. You could tell he'd have a dirty-feathered shaft.
Well, like they say these days, Luther, the only good Indian's a lead one.
Hawkins roared again and rolled off down the hall. Furber stepped back to let him pass.
Hawkins, come in here, Stitt yelled.
I've lost my glasses.
They're in my case, I think, remember, Olus?
Orcutt stood in front of the fire for a moment, enduring a spasm of shivering.
How is Emma, really, Doc?
She's old, is all, Curt, merely old.
Orcutt kicked off his boots. Then he tugged at his beard, leaning into the fire, combing the beard with his fingers.
Let me toss on another.
The wood fell in the fire with a crash and a shower of sparks flew up the chimney.
Orcutt bent over the cradle, silent a good while. How long, he said quietly. No one answered. How long has this been going on? Dammit.
He knuckled his eyes.
Where are the parents?
He straightened quickly.
Bring me my case, please, Olus, thank you. Diphtheria all right. As early as I've seen it in an infant. And bad, Olus — you were right. Where are the parents?
She fainted and Furber put her somewhere. Omensetter's outside somewhere — gone.
Orcutt hesitated.
What are you saying, Curtis? Somewhere? put her somewhere?
Chamlay shrugged.
In the other bedroom, I suppose.
Orcutt blinked.
Furber's here then. Well.
He bent over the cradle again.
Damn these eyes. The wind like to blown them out. Gone, you say? out, hey? somewhere. So Furber's here though. He'll be needed, like as not. Where'd Omensetter get to?
I don't know. Furber thought he might have gone for you.
Orcutt paused a moment in his manipulations, then went on. The baby squeaked.
A simple infant, he said. Utterly neglected. It's criminal.
And all this thumping about in here… you lummoxes…
He shook his head and slumped with weariness.
Bad, Truxton?
Like I said, Olus.
Any chance at all?
Not really.
Diphtheria… it's a terrible thing. Orcutt sighed.
Men, in my experience, are the worst disease,
he said. Then he slowly bent again to his inspection.
11
Orcutt was not disposed to be pleasant. He ignored the question. He sipped his coffee.
We've business here ourselves, Truxton.
The self-appointed.
Someone has to. It's no pleasure.
Ain't it? Well, you'll not mind if I've no patience for it — fresh out of that. But I can figure what you're up to, you been hitching to it-all along. It ain't completely usual in you, Curtis… I'll say it ain't good either. That sort of thing can wait, don't pile it up on top of all of this. You must be numb inside and that's a fact.
None of us is numb, we've got our feelings — the whole town has its feelings — and I'm surprised at what you say. My feelings — everybody's — they're just the same — you know that. Why, we harbored him. From the time he dragged his horse and bragging wagon into town, he made himself at home here. We took him in. Sure — Henry and Watson mainly — but everybody some. You've got no memory for it? the little time it took and what he's done? So you might say my feelings — all ours here — are just for everybody.
You're doing everybody's feeling for them, hey? Medically, that ain't easy.
Dammit, Truxton, you know what I mean. The problem's plain enough, and so's our duty. You should have heard the way that bastard talked when we came out here.
Duty, hey? Delightful word. The mons veneris of morality. So considerately short a noise too, duty is.
Orcutt blew on his coffee.
What a curious thing you are, though, Curtis, to speak of duty here so early on such a snowy morning when everyone is thick-eyed from sitting by the fire all night and tipped down in the mind.
Or is that your notion? What's eating on you?
Curtis — know what a doctor's duty is? He swears to it, you know. He takes a sacred Grecian oath. To do his duty.