Darkness
Chapter 32

Natchez

Samuel Duncan

It was obviously too good to be true. Yellow fever almost never stops after just two cases. A few days of respite, but today I have been summoned to the bedsides of half a dozen new patients. All the same, high fever, headache, stomach upset. I have been run ragged trying to keep up, and worrying about what will happen when there are more patients. There will inevitably be more.

The day has ended, and I have tried to get all the patients settled comfortably for the night, hoping that I will be able to rest until morning before I have to get back to work. I’m absolutely starving, not having had a chance to get a bite to eat all day, so I stop into the club for dinner before going home. I’m sure that Ben will get something to eat at Gregor’s house like usual.

Uncle Samuel is here already, of course, in his normal spot, a view towards the door so he can see everybody who comes in. He waves at me, unnecessarily. I was coming over there anyway, like I do almost every evening.

“Sit down, my boy,” he says, “you look exhausted!”

I drop gratefully into one of the soft chairs at the low table. “I am,” I admit, “it’s been a very long day.” I am interrupted from telling him more by the server who comes to take my order, and I request a large meal, but no alcoholic beverage. It isn’t unlikely that my night will be interrupted by patients, and I can’t be impaired by drink.

“No whiskey tonight?” Uncle Samuel asks with a smile, picking up his own glass.

I shake my head. “I’ve been busy with yellow fever patients all day, and I expect there to be more. I have to keep my wits about me.”

My uncle sits back in his seat, nonplussed. Nobody is ever surprised when yellow fever makes its annual appearance, but it is always stressful and worrisome. There is no way to know how bad this is going to get.

Quietly, he asks, “How many?”

“Six today,” I tell him, and look up when I see motion to my side. It is Uncle Henry, arriving to join us as usual.

Uncle Samuel tells him gloomily after he sits, “Sounds like yellow fever season has arrived.”

“I know,” Henry says. After the server comes to take his order, he continues, “We heard talk at the mercantile today. A couple of customers said that their neighbor had fallen ill.” He looks over at me. “Were you tending the patients today?”

“I was,” I say, digging in gratefully to the plate that is delivered to me. I see my uncles both widen their eyes at my voracious gobbling, and with my mouth full I say, “Pardon me, I didn’t get the chance to eat all day.” Uncle Samuel waves his hand at my food to indicate that I should carry on.

A chair scrapes next to me and I glance over, and am surprised to see Gregor has joined us. Goodness, he hasn’t come to the club in months. He hardly ever does. Unlike Uncle Samuel, Gregor seems committed to dining with his wife every evening. My uncle prefers to dine here, and explains it is to promote his business, because it is the best way to keep abreast of what is going on about the town, by listening to the gossip here every night.

“Hello, Gregor,” Henry welcomes him with a smile, “have a seat.”

Uncle Samuel smiles at him too, but it seems forced. He is one of the people in town who has never seemed to be able to get over what happened the day that Gregor was whipped. We were all there, we all saw the event, and all felt the crazy emotional turmoil swirling through the air, but I think most people have gotten over it. Uncle Samuel still seems very unsettled, though, and he doesn’t talk to Gregor the way he used to. He always used to treat Gregor just like me and Stephen, as though Gregor was just another one of his nephews, a young man to whom he was pleased to impart wisdom and guidance. I wonder if Gregor misses that.

The server comes to take his order, and he only asks for whiskey. Then he turns to me and says, “I was out at Homochitto all day, building the cabin, but when I got back into town I heard that there have been some new cases of yellow fever.”

I nod and swallow a bite. “Yes, I was afraid this would happen. Yellow fever doesn’t usually die down after just a couple of cases. There were six new cases today.”

His whiskey arrives and he takes a healthy swallow. “Is anyone very ill?”

“Not yet,” I say, shrugging. “It’s early still.”

He nods. “We won’t be renting rooms in the boarding house extension until after the steamboat returns again, and that won’t be for nearly two weeks. Could we be of service? Would you like to use it as a sick ward again?”

I lay down my fork and consider this. It was very helpful for the two men from the boat, not to have to go onboard to care for them. I think it would be even more helpful now, with patients scattered all across town. “Yes,” I say slowly, “I do think that would be much more convenient. I’m not sure how feasible it is, though. Some of the patients won’t want to leave their homes, since they’ll be more comfortable in their own beds.”

My uncles are following the conversation closely. “That is a very fine offer, Gregor,” Henry says. Then he turns to me and asks, “Samuel, do you think there will be many more patients? If so, being able to tend them all in one place would surely be helpful to you. Otherwise you are going to be spread awfully thin.”

“I’d have to see if they’d agree to go to the boarding house.”

Uncle Samuel speaks up, overcoming his newfound aversion to talking in front of Gregor. “They would if they don’t have any choice. I agree with Henry. If there are going to be many patients, you won’t be able to tend them all, if they are scattered all over Natchez. It makes sense to just require them to go to the sick ward if they expect to receive treatment from you.”

“My crew can help with this too,” Gregor offers. “We can send wagons around to collect patients at whatever addresses you direct.”

“Aren’t they busy with Moses’ cabin?” I ask, returning to my meal.

“We can spare a few,” he says. “I’ll have a small crew stay behind to help with the sick ward. This is more important. If the construction is slightly delayed, I know Moses will understand.”

I nod. “Thank you, Gregor, this really will be convenient. Can we coordinate in the morning?”

“Of course,” he says, finishing off his whiskey, and rising to go. “I’ll see that there are beds ready to receive patients in the morning.” He looks at my uncles, and says, “Henry, Samuel, nice to see you.”

“Thank you,” I tell him again. He nods and departs.

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