Then, as the year moved toward its end, the situation took a sinister turn.
It was John who made me aware of it, one night when he came home from work. Though we had entered the dark season, the paleness of his face could not be attributed to winter’s hardships alone. He barely had time to shed his coat and sit down at the table, where dinner waited in steaming pots, before he opened his mouth to speak.
“I fear that Mads is gravely ill.”
“Whatever do you mean?” I was busy filling his plate, and it took a moment for the words to sink in.
“We met him on the street,” Rudolph said. He had come in with his father, having come from the same place of work, and was brushing off both pairs of shoes before entering.
“He looks like a man on his deathbed,” said my husband. “I almost did not recognize him at first. His cheeks are all hollow and his color like ash. When I asked, he said it was a stomach virus, but it didn’t look like a virus to me. It looked as if life itself was seeping out of him.”
“He did look poorly.” My son nodded from his crouching position by the shoes. “It is as Father said; it didn’t look like some little thing.”
The girls had come out of hiding in their room at the sound of their father and brother’s arrival and were happily filling the bench, both of them hungry no doubt. When they saw John’s somber expression, they fell quiet.
“Bella has not said a word,” I told him. “It must have been sudden, this illness. Did he mention seeing a doctor?”
John sighed. “He said your sister was set against it, that she thought it foolish to spend money on a doctor when it would probably just pass.”
My cheeks reddened. “She has her hands full these days. She must not have seen how bad he looked.”
“Well, she won’t have a husband for long if this is to continue.” John drew a tired hand through his salt-and-pepper hair.
“Aunt Bella must think it’s a stomach virus.” Rudolph took his place by the table.
“Well, for all we know it is. They can be pretty horrible,” I muttered, “and none of us are doctors.” I felt ashamed on her behalf, to let her husband go and suffer. “Maybe she is treating him with powders and suchlike.”
“Isn’t there a doctor lodging with them?”
“He hasn’t moved in yet. His position starts in January.” Bella and Mads had decided to let a room.
“Now that’s bad luck,” John mused.
“I think you should go there, Mama.” Rudolph’s bright brown eyes met mine. “Just to make sure that they’re all right.”
I nodded and gave a deep sigh. “I will go first thing tomorrow.”
* * *
—
Bella was busy sweeping the kitchen floor when I arrived. Little Jennie, fair and lithe, walked in her mother’s footsteps with a broom of her own, sweeping up what little her mother missed. I had expected there to be some sign of illness in the house—bottles of tinctures or medicine fumes, at the very least a hush in the atmosphere—but there was none.
“Nellie.” Bella straightened up and stretched with her knuckles pressed to the small of her back. “I was not expecting you.”
“I know . . . I know . . . It was just—John told me that Mads was ill.” I was still lingering by the door, unsure if I should go inside a house with such a mysterious illness. Both my sister and her daughter seemed fine, though.
“Oh no, that’s nothing.” Bella waved it away. “He will be his old self in no time at all.”
“Well, where is he? Is he at home?” I stretched my neck to perhaps catch a glance inside the parlor.
“He is in bed.” Bella placed the broom behind the door and slumped down in a chair. Jennie quickly followed her example and claimed a chair of her own. “Come inside, Nellie. Don’t just stand there and gawk. I don’t know what John told you, but it’s nothing serious.”
“No?” I took a few steps into the room and started to unbutton my coat. “John said he looked half dead!” I should perhaps not have used such strong words, but I was frightened and upset. “You should send him to see a doctor,” I said as I sat down with the coat in my arms.
“We will have our own doctor soon,” she replied. “That will be nice, won’t it, Jennie?” she cooed at the girl, who awarded her with a bright smile. “Then we will never have to spend hard-earned cash on such luxuries.”
“Well, he could be dead by that time.” Sometimes Bella had to have it spelled out. “What if it is not a stomach virus? What if it is something more serious than that?”
She shook her head, rose again, and set to making coffee. “I have seen him sick with such viruses before and I know they make him seem very poorly, but he will clear right up again. It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“What are you giving him, then? Surely he must have some sort of medicine?” I felt a headache coming on; it was impossible to talk to her when she was in such a mood, determined to be happy and refusing to see reason.
“I give him a tincture the pharmacist recommended,” she said with her back turned toward me. “Three times a day without fail. He is much better already.”
“What is the name of it?” I knew I had to test her, because sometimes—sometimes—she lied.
“Oh, I cannot remember, I keep it upstairs on his bed stand, next to the Bible, which, as you know, is the only medicine he truly wants.” Was there bitterness I heard in her voice, or scorn? It was hard to tell with her back turned.
Just then, the creaking door to the hallway announced Mads’s arrival.
John had certainly not been wrong about his condition. I took one look at his face and then I knew that the man was in mortal peril.
“Good God, Mads.” I rose at once and walked toward him. He stood leaning against the door frame, dressed in his pajamas. His hand, which held an empty cup, shook. “My God,” I repeated. “Look at you! You must see a doctor at once!”
“Do you think so?” he asked in a voice that barely carried.
“It’s not so bad,” Bella said behind me.
“I cannot keep the food down,” he said. “It keeps coming up again.”
“Bella!” I turned to her; my frown was so deep that the headache bloomed. “He must see a doctor!” I used the same stern voice I had practiced so often when she was a child.
She sighed. “It’s a waste of money.” She put a cup down on the table, presumably for me, and filled it with scalding-hot coffee. Jennie pulled her knees up to her chin and followed our exchange with worried eyes.
“I will go and bring the doctor here myself.” I fetched my coat. I did not trust that anything would be done if left up to my sister. Mads barely nodded, but I think he was grateful. Relieved that someone other than Bella took charge.
When he went to put on a proper shirt in anticipation of the doctor’s visit, I could not help but scold her. “It is terrible what you do, keeping him from the doctor when he is clearly very ill! What has gotten into you, Bella? Have you no heart for him at all?”
She looked at me as if confused. “I know how to make him better, Nellie. I can have him up again in no time at all!”