Eileen grinned. “Give me five minutes to get into my street clothes.”
And she ran towards the stairs.
Timmy fidgeted. “Dames! Why do they always wanta butt in?”
Just then, Tommy came in the front door and waved to them. “I’m glad I
didn’t miss you,” he cried. “I want to tag along, if I can. If I can
get a ride out to Mercyville, I can talk to their baseball captain
about the game.”
“Sure thing, Tom,” Dr. Benson said.
When Eileen was ready, the four started for the center of town. Tommy
chose the stores where they would shop, and Eileen did the shopping.
Dr. Benson secretly breathed a sigh of relief that she had decided to
come with them. Impulsively he turned to her as the clerk was wrapping
the last package.
“Why don’t you ride out with us? It’s a wonderful day for a drive.”
She looked at him gratefully. “Thanks. I’d love to. I’ll call the
hospital first.”
The drive through the Connecticut countryside was as beautiful as
promised. Timmy stared out of the car window as they wound around the
gentle curves taking them to Mercyville. For the first time in his life
he was seeing the abundant beauty of the country. Or perhaps it was
the first time he was able to notice it, because he was well fed and
comfortably dressed.
They passed a herd of cattle grazing on the side of a small slope. “So
them’s cows,” he said softly. “And they make milk. Well, well.”
“Jeepers!” Tommy exclaimed under his breath. “Yep, Timmy, they make
milk, all right. And you haven’t lived till you’ve tasted _fresh_ milk!
You’ll have your chance!”
Mercyville consisted of five acres of land nestled between two hills.
A stream bounded the land on the third side, and there were patches of
woods on the other side. Small cottages dotted the acres and in the
center was a building about the size of a large house.
“That must be the administration building,” Dr. Benson said as he
turned up the drive to the house. “Hey, look, Tom. There’s a ball
diamond. And I’ll bet those are your opponents out there practicing.”
Tommy groaned as he watched the boys playing ball. “Look at that
guy pitch!” he moaned. “And that fellow batting! He’ll _murder_ my
pitching!”
“Okay,” Dr. Benson said, “everyone out.”
They found Mr. Henderson in a small office at the front of the
building. He held out his hand to Dr. Benson as they entered his office.
“I’m very glad to see you, Doctor,” he said, clasping the intern’s hand.
“Thank you, sir,” Dr. Benson said. “This is Miss Gordon, our Supervisor
of Nurses, and these are Tommy Craig and Timmy Lester. Timmy would like
to be a member of your family. And Tommy is here to see your ball team
captain. Seems they have a game together this season.”
Mr. Henderson nodded. “Oh, yes. Elmhurst. Miss Gordon, it’s a pleasure.
And Timmy, I hope you’re going to like Mercyville.”
“Yeah,” Timmy said. “It’s okay, I guess.”
Mr. Henderson smiled and patted the boy’s arm. “Frankly, I don’t have
so much to do with our boys. I’d better call in our president and let
you talk to him.”
He picked up the phone and asked for Bert Cramer. Smiling, he turned
back to his guests. “Please sit down, won’t you? Bert’s out on the
diamond. He’s also our baseball manager, you know. He’ll be right in.”
In a few minutes, a slender boy with brown hair and soft brown eyes
knocked at Mr. Henderson’s open door.
“You sent for me, Mr. Henderson?” he asked in a low, melodious voice.
“Come in, Bert,” Mr. Henderson said. “We have a new member of our
family.” He smiled. “Bert, this is Dr. Benson from the Gallup Clinic in
Elmhurst.”
“How do you do, sir?” Bert said, shaking hands.
After Mr. Henderson had introduced them all, Bert grinned at Timmy
and said, “Gee, I’m sorry I’m not going to be around next year. But I
finish up here this term, you know. We have a swell guy for president
next year, though. I know you’ll like him.”
Dr. Benson nodded. “Tell me, Bert, what plans you have. We’re kind of
interested in what happens to you boys when you finish school here.”
Mr. Henderson put his hand fondly on the young man’s shoulder. “We have
great hopes for Bert,” he said.
“Play baseball, huh?” Tommy asked, eyeing him with doubt. “Well,
anyhow, we can be friends _before_ our big game.”
Bert laughed. “Well, as a matter of fact, I don’t play any more. I
used to play centerfield, and I do love the game. But I also play the
violin. I was afraid to take chances on injuring my hands, so I gave up
baseball. But I still manage the team.”
“Well, what do you know?” Tommy said. “You play the violin?”
“What a sissy!” Timmy exclaimed.
Bert chuckled. “That’s what a lot of people thought once. A lot of the
guys made fun of me till I met them in the boxing ring.”
Mr. Henderson chuckled at the memory. “Bert’s not much of a sissy,
Timmy. You’ll have to take his word for it, though. I doubt if he’d
challenge you. You’ll have to box fellows your own size.” He shrugged
his shoulders. “But tell them about your plans, Bert.”
“Oh, yes. Well, Timmy’s coming to Mercyville may be a sort of good
luck omen for me. In a little while I’m going into Elmhurst to try out
for a scholarship to Timothy College. Get it? That’s Timmy’s name. You
probably never heard of the school....”
“Timothy College!” Tommy cried. “My sister, Doris, is trying out for a
scholarship there, too! She plays the piano.”
“That _is_ a coincidence!” Mr. Henderson said. He stood up. “Bert, why
don’t you take Timmy and his friend down to meet George? That’s George
Michael, our president-elect. Dr. Benson and Miss Gordon and I can
clear up the details while you’re gone.”
Bert nodded, and led the small party out of the office.
Mr. Henderson’s face sobered as the young people left. “Children left
alone in the world constitute the worst tragedy I know of,” he sighed.
“I’m very glad we have room for Timmy. Every time I have to turn away a
boy, my heart breaks again.”
“That’s why I’m so glad you could take him, sir,” Dr. Benson said.
“You see, Timmy hasn’t had any sort of break from life yet at all. We
checked with the authorities when we finally found out who he was, and
his background was ... terrible! His father had been out of work for
months. There was a housefull of children, and they all lived in one
room. The rest of the family was killed in a tenement fire. Timmy was
out on the streets with a gang of hoodlums at the time.”
Mr. Henderson stroked his iron gray hair. “That’s as wretched a tale as
I’ve heard yet, and I’ve heard some pretty bad ones.”
Dr. Benson cleared his throat nervously. “I think you may have some
problems with Timmy. He doesn’t even seem to be aware that his family
is gone. He knows, of course, but he’s all wrapped up in a hard shell
which comes from living a life like that. And when he softens up and
gets human again, he’s going to feel the tragedy.”
Mr. Henderson nodded. “I understand.”
“I wonder,” Dr. Benson blurted out. “I don’t mean to doubt your word,
but I went through it, myself. We lived in a place like Timmy’s old
home. My parents died when I was in medical school, and it took months
before I even realized what had happened. Even though I had been so
much luckier than the other boys I knew, I was still suffering what
they call slum-shock years after I had left home.”
Mr. Henderson smiled gently. “Yes, I do know, Dr. Benson. I was a slum
child, myself. I think that’s why I started this home. I can never
forget the horrors I saw as a child, and I’d give anything in the world
to protect other children from them.”
Eileen shook her head. “Slum life _can_ turn out some pretty wonderful
people,” she said softly. “People determined to help others in the same
fix.”
Mr. Henderson smiled at her. “I guess that’s about the size of it.” He
stood up and went over to a filing cabinet. “I have here all the data
about Mercyville. Our medical and health records and our financial
status. The former is very good. The latter is never good, of course.
But we manage to make ends meet.” He handed Eileen and Dr. Benson
copies of the report. “You can look it over and take a copy back to Dr.
Barsch. He’ll probably want it for his records. As you see, we are an
accredited grammar and high school. And here,” he pointed to a page,
“is a list of our alumni. That’s our gold star page, so to speak. Some
of our boys are brilliant and have fine careers. Others are not so ...
so brainy, of course. But they also become useful, productive citizens.”
Just then the boys returned. George Michaels, the president-elect, was
with them. He was a tall, slim Negro boy. He and Tommy were so deeply
involved in a discussion about baseball that they were almost oblivious
to everyone else.
“George,” said Mr. Henderson, “I want you to meet Dr. Benson and Miss
Gordon from the Gallup Clinic in Elmhurst.”
George looked up, startled. Eileen and Dr. Benson both laughed as the
new president came back down to earth.
“Sorry, sir,” George said, shaking Dr. Benson’s hand. “Tom and I were
so deep in the technicalities of the game, I forgot where I was.”
Dr. Benson grinned. “I’m crazy about the game, myself. I can understand
your being so absorbed.”
Mr. Henderson looked at George fondly. “George is our star athlete. He
plays football, baseball and basketball.”
“A triple threat man, eh?” Dr. Benson asked.
“A real threat man,” Mr. Henderson said solemnly. “You asked Bert
Cramer a while ago what he was going to do when he left Mercyville. I
think you might be interested in George’s plans, too.”
“We certainly would,” Eileen said.
“Tell them, George,” Mr. Henderson said proudly.
George hesitated. “I sort of hate to talk about it till I’ve figured
out exactly how I’m going to accomplish it. But I love sports. As a
tiny child, I didn’t have much time to play games. There wasn’t any
place for me, either. In our neighborhood back home, they didn’t like
me to join in their organized games, because I am a Negro. I guess they
still discriminate. That’s why I want to open a youth center, some day,
for kids of all races and creeds.”
Dr. Benson and Eileen nodded soberly.
“That’s a fine objective, George,” Dr. Benson said quietly.
George turned to look at Timmy. “Mr. Henderson, did you know Timmy here
has never played baseball? And from the way I saw him run across the
yard, I think he’ll make a wonderful base-stealer.”
“You bet he will,” said Dr. Benson as he watched Timmy’s face to see if
he could get an inkling as to how Timmy was impressed by what he had
seen.
By this time it was obvious that Tommy and Bert Cramer were fast
friends. Bert shook his head sadly as Dr. Benson nodded to Eileen and
Tommy.
“I sure wish you could stay to supper,” he said. “I could drive you
back, Tommy, and I’d kind of like the fellows to meet you.”
Tommy hesitated. “Gee, I’d like to,” he answered. “If I could call the
folks, and if Dr. Benson didn’t mind.”
“Why should I mind, Tom?” Dr. Benson asked. “Go ahead and call home, if
you like.” A few minutes later it was all settled and Timmy walked out
to the car with them. On the way, they sat down on a bench for a few
minutes. Dr. Benson reached down and picked a blade of grass.
“You know, Timmy, I don’t want to give you a lecture,” he said. “But I
want you to know how impressed I am with the democratic spirit of this
place.”
“Whazzat?” Timmy demanded.
Dr. Benson chuckled. “Democracy is being well in spirit. Just as
healthy is being well in body, I guess you could say. You haven’t had
a very good start. When people are poor and forced into slums, they
get sick and scared, and sometimes all sort of crazy. Their bodies
are diseased and twisted because they don’t have enough to eat, or
warm clothes or fresh air. And sometimes their minds are diseased and
twisted with this fear and craziness. So pretty soon they turn on each
other and start to hate each other. The first thing they do is hate
people who look different. Or have different sounding names. Out here
you’re going to have the chance to get over any part of that sickness
you might have. You’re going to have fresh air and good food and lots
of time to play and grow and learn. You’re going to learn the best
lesson anyone can ever learn! That everyone ... I don’t care if they’re
white or brown or yellow or even purple or green--I don’t care how they
choose to worship God ... is a human being and has the same capacity
for dignity as anyone else. I’m a doctor, Timmy, and I deal in truth
and facts. These things are as exact truths as two plus two equalling
four.”
Timmy squirmed. “Aw, sure, Doc.” He picked up a blade of grass
and stuck it between his teeth. “I never thought about it before.
But George ... he’s right. Kids back home do pick on kids that’re
different.”
Dr. Benson nodded. “Mr. Henderson called him a real threat man. George
is going to be a real threat to intolerance and bigotry when he leaves
Mercyville. Those are just fancy names for being plain sick.”
Timmy grinned. “Hey, Doc! How about comin’ out to see me?”
Dr. Benson tousled his hair. “Try to keep me away, Timmy. You and I are
going to stick together. We’re pals, remember?”
Eileen and the doctor waved to him as they drove off. They watched
Timmy head back to where Mr. Henderson and George Michael were waiting
for him. Dr. Benson hummed in a satisfied way.
They drove through the lengthening shadows of the late afternoon in
silence. Finally Dr. Benson heard the sound of muffled sobs next to
him and he turned to look at Eileen. He slowed the car.
“Good heavens, baby, what’s the matter?”
Eileen dabbed at her nose with a tiny handkerchief. “That speech! What
you told Timmy, I mean. You’re some guy, doctor. And I feel as if I
should get out of your car and walk home!”
Dr. Benson grinned. “Oh, you’re not so bad,” he teased. “As a matter of
fact, you’re kind of cute. You sort of dress up the old jalopy.”
Eileen grinned in spite of herself. “Wasn’t I the Lady Bountiful this
morning, though, when I said I would condescend to date you some time?
Doctor, if you ever look at me again, you have a screw loose. And I’ll
be the happiest girl in the world!”
Dr. Benson stopped the car. “It just happens that I _have_ a screw
loose. Here. Give me that hanky. No, I’ll use mine.” He pulled out
his handkerchief. “These things women carry aren’t worth a darn.” He
wiped her cheeks tenderly. “Oh, Eileen, you darling little idiot!
Don’t you know that if you had looked at me when I first came the way
you’re looking at me now, I would have served my internship standing
on my hands, if you’d wanted me to? But when I got the brush-off from
the cool, crisp, efficient Miss Gordon, I decided to play things
differently. I guess I’ve been as big a dope as anyone.”
15. Graduation!
July was nearly over. And although there weren’t any summer patients
at the clinic, Jean and her classmates were very busy. Graduation was
scheduled for the end of the month. But before Jean, Sally, Hedda,
Ingeborg and Lucy could wear their registered nurses’ caps, they had to
take their final exams.
They all studied every free minute they had. And Jean was frankly
worried about her approaching exams. Although she had mastered most
of her studies with ease, she was still baffled by the nervous system
and the essentials of psychology which were required knowledge for the
graduate nurses.
Miserably she flipped through her psychology book one afternoon as
she sat alone in the lobby of the clinic. It was her day off, but she
refused to take time off to go home till she had mastered her lesson.
Gerald Benson found her huddled over her book and sat down beside her.
“Still grinding away?” he asked.
She nodded. “I can’t understand why I can’t get this through my head,”
she said desperately.
Gerald picked up her book. “Maybe I can help you,” he offered.
“Oh, go away,” she groaned with pretended despair. “Suddenly
everything’s changed. Eileen ... my good friend, Eileen ... has become
a witch who haunts me at night. She’s going to be on the examining
board. And so are all the doctors! I get all nervous when I think that
Ted or Dr. Daley or especially wonderful Dr. Barsch can up and flunk me
without a second thought if I don’t pass my exam.”
Gerald laughed. “Then I’m your friend of the hour. _I_ won’t be on the
board. I’m just an intern. Now, let’s see. What’s troubling you so?” He
turned to the front of the book. Then he closed it. “Let’s start at the
beginning. In the first place, did you ever run a switchboard?”
Jean nodded. “One summer I worked as a receptionist in an office.”
“Then there’s nothing to it. You’re just trying to master the
switchboard of the human body. Keep that in mind. Sensory nerves to the
brain or spinal column, depending upon whether the reflex called for
is automatic or deliberate. If it is an automatic response, such as
pulling your hand away when you touch a hot stove, the message goes no
higher than the spinal column. Otherwise, it goes to the brain. Your
brain tells you to turn up the thermostat because you’re cold in your
house. You had to learn that heating a house will warm you. But a tiny
baby will pull his hand away from a hot stove.”
Jean nodded.
“See how simple it is? The rest of it is just memorizing the various
parts. But to excite your interest, I’m going to tell you a story. I
think when you hear it, you’re going to _want_ to learn the various
parts. And anything you really want to learn, you will learn.”
Jean giggled. “You’re quite a philosopher, Gerald,” she said.
“I would rather like to go on into psychiatry if I can,” Gerald said.
“That’s why you’re going to find me so helpful today. This is my stuff.
But to get back to the story. You’ve undoubtedly had a toothache at one
time or another, haven’t you?”
Jean nodded. “I should say I have. I remember a particularly bad one
once, when it seemed as if all my teeth hurt.”
“That often happens,” Dr. Benson continued. “Sometimes, you may
remember, instead of the infected tooth in the upper jaw, let us say,
being the one that hurts, it is the tooth directly below it in the
lower jaw that seems to be causing the pain. Why do you suppose that
is?”
Jean shook her head. “I can’t imagine.”
Gerald went on. “That’s the fascinating part. What actually happens is
this. The area around the infected tooth hurts. It sends a message to
the brain, saying ‘Ouch.’ But the brain says, ‘Hold on a minute. You
must be confused. You can’t possibly hurt. It must be the other party
on your line. Now, let’s see. The other party on your line is the
second molar in the lower jaw. That’s the tooth which hurts.’ And, by
heaven, that’s what hurts, in spite of the fact that the tooth in the
lower jaw is perfectly sound.”
Jean grinned. “Really? That’s fascinating!” she cried.
Gerald stood up. “Now, go home. You can’t study here. You find out why
these fascinating things happen. I’ll drill you every day till exams
come. We’ll lick ’em, Witch-Gordon and the whole pack of ’em!”
Jean giggled. “Eileen should hear you say that,” she teased.
He laughed. “No girl of mine is going around flunking industrious young
students, either. You might remember that!”
Gerald was true to his word. Every day until exam day he drilled Jean
in the intricacies of the nervous system. And when she went in to face
the examining board, she felt more confident than she ever believed she
would feel.
Dr. Barsch headed the board. Dr. Daley, Dr. Jenkins, Ted and Eileen
asked the questions, but Jean was sure enough of herself to enjoy
the ordeal. As the exam went on, the doctors and Eileen became more
relaxed. Jean was a favorite among the staff members, and they were as
anxious as she that she do well.
Finally with beaming faces, the board came to the end of the questions.
Dr. Barsch looked around at the staff.
“I guess there’s no question in anyone’s mind, is there?”
They all shook their heads.
Dr. Barsch stood up. “Then I want to be the first to congratulate
you, Miss Craig. Your work here at the clinic has been more than
satisfactory. It will be a pleasure to have you take part in our
‘capping’ exercises tomorrow night.”
The following night, Jean and her whole class gathered together outside
of the small auditorium of the clinic. To the immense relief of all,
they all had passed their final exams and were ready to be capped.
Their families had already gathered in the auditorium, and Dr. Gallup
was on the platform together with Dr. Barsch and the rest of the staff.
The girls were all dressed in fresh, immaculate white uniforms. Finally
they received the signal and marched into the auditorium together. They
all sat down in the first row.
Dr. Gallup and the staff rose as the girls took their seats. Dr Barsch
stepped to the front of the stage.
“This is truly a memorable occasion for the Gallup Memorial Clinic,” he
said. “This is our first graduating class of nurses. I don’t need to
tell you how proud we are of our girls. I can see our pride reflected
on your faces, too.
“These girls have done the almost impossible. Usually when girls start
training they don’t have to jump in and perform as regular nurses, too.
But our girls did. We didn’t have enough registered nurses, so they
just went right to work. Without neglecting their studies, they stepped
right in and helped where they were needed. Don’t ask me how they did
it. Because frankly, I don’t know.”
The audience applauded.
Dr. Barsch smiled fondly down on his girls. “And because they did work
so hard, our later classes won’t have so much to do. Also, people of
Elmhurst, because of them, we have a much better clinic today than we
ever dreamed we could have.”
The audience applauded again as Dr. Barsch sat down and Dr. Gallup
rose. The applause for the revered doctor was deafening. He waited for
a moment, nodding his impressive white head.
“What do you want me to say about my girls?” he asked the audience.
“Why, I brought most of them into the world!” He rubbed his eyes.
“You’ll forgive the meanderings of an old man, but I keep thinking
about how quickly time passes. It seems like such a short time ago
that I gave Sally Hancock her first spanking.” He paused. “Hm,” he
continued, “and it wasn’t too long ago that I handed a diploma to a
painfully scrubbed youngster by the name of Edward Barsch and welcomed
him to the medical profession.”
In the front row, Hedda leaned over and whispered to Jean, “Where’s
Ted?”
Jean looked up at the stage. “Why ... I don’t know. He was up there a
few minutes ago.”
“And now,” Dr. Gallup continued, “I’m supposed to pretend that enough
years have gone by to turn my Edward into a stuffy old executive and my
babies into efficient nurses....”
The audience tittered. Dr. Gallup looked pleased with himself. But the
titter grew into a loud laugh, and the elderly doctor turned around.
Ted Loring was trying to steal, unnoticed, onto the stage. He carried a
huge bouquet of red roses. He held them behind him in an unsuccessful
attempt to conceal them.
Dr. Gallup clasped his hands together and rocked back on his heels.
“When Dr. Loring finds his seat, we’ll continue,” he said. The audience
roared as Ted blushed fiery red.
Dr. Gallup tried to cover his grin as he faced the audience once again.
“To get back to our girls, I think you all know something of what it
means to study for nursing. It means being able to give of yourself.
It means long hours with little tangible reward. But don’t pity these
girls for their hard labors, ladies and gentlemen. They know what it is
to receive the greatest intangible reward of all--the gratitude of an
entire community.”
The audience stood up and applauded as the girls rose to go to the
stage for their diplomas.
Jean led the girls to the stage. Dr. Gallup shook her hand and kissed
her cheek as he handed her the diploma. He repeated the performance
with the other girls. The applause continued during the entire ceremony.
Before Jean could return to her seat, Ted rose and walked over to her.
Dr. Gallup handed out the last diploma and turned toward Ted and Jean.
“I don’t know why I should have been so darned furtive about these
beautiful flowers,” Ted said. “Just before the ceremony started, Ralph
MacRae wired these flowers to Jean Craig, and I think they have a place
in the ceremony, also.”
Everyone clapped enthusiastically, and Jean blushed as she accepted the
bouquet.
Then Dr. Barsch rose again. He introduced Eileen to the assembly, and
the girls passed before her to receive their black ribbons for their
caps. Now they were official nurses. Eileen grabbed their hands warmly
as they passed her. Dr. Barsch imitated Dr. Gallup and kissed them all
soundly on the cheek.