Candle in the Darkness - Lynn N. Austin [173]
“Make her sit down,” Josiah said, pointing to her.
“No . . . Oh, God, no . . . not Jonathan . . .” she cried out. Eli pulled Caroline into his arms and held her tightly. She felt as if she stood onboard a ship in a storm and was about to be blown overboard.
“It ain’t Jonathan,” Josiah said. “It’s Massa Charles.”
“No!” Pain tore through Caroline, as sharp and real as any gunshot.
“He’s hurt real bad,” Josiah continued. “They bring him to that big hospital up on the hill, just now.”
“Oh, God, please don’t let him die,” Caroline wept. “Please . . . please . . .”
“I’ll get the carriage ready,” Gilbert said. Josiah stepped aside as the servant hurried out the door.
“What happened, son?” Eli asked.
“They been fighting hard all day. I went looking for Massa Jonathan when he ain’t coming back with some of the others. Couldn’t find him. I look everywhere . . . lots of dead and wounded . . . but I ain’t seeing him. I only find Massa Charles, lying there in that hole.”
“Sweet Massa Jesus . . .” Tessie prayed as she rocked Isaac, who was sleeping on her lap. “Help him, Massa Jesus . . .”
“Ain’t gonna lie to you and pretend it ain’t bad,” Josiah said. “The men who picking up the wounded walk right on past him, thinking he good as dead with two big holes in him and bleeding so bad. But I tore up my shirt and stuffed the hole in his chest like I seen the doctors do, and I wrap one of the shirtsleeves around his leg. His head bleeding bad, too. Then I carry him to the forward aid station, but they keep walking past him, saying there ain’t much hope. So I carry him to the field hospital, about half-mile back, and put him on the first ambulance I see, not waiting for nobody’s permission. Ambulance just now bring him to that big place up on the hill.”
Esther handed Josiah his father’s coat to put on. “Does his family know about Massa Charles?”
Josiah shook his head. “I came here first.”
“Guess someone better go on down and tell them,” Eli said. “But first we got to get Missy up to the hospital.”
Gilbert returned to the kitchen just then. “Carriage ready,” he said.
Caroline tried to walk but her legs wouldn’t hold her. Eli lifted her into his arms. “Oh, God, please don’t take Charles,” she pleaded as he carried her outside into the dark autumn night. “Please don’t take him!”
They crossed the backyard toward the open gate, and a memory came to Caroline, sharp and clear. Eli had carried Tessie in his arms the same way while Tessie had pleaded, “Don’t take him . . .please don’t take him!” But the men had dragged Grady through the open gate in spite of Tessie’s pleas.
A terrible fear suddenly gripped Caroline. Charles was going to die in payment for that sin.
It seemed to Caroline that hours passed before she found out where they’d taken Charles in the sprawling hospital complex. In spite of Josiah’s warning, she wasn’t prepared for the sight of him— his uniform drenched in his own blood, his face as pale as death. Huge, raw wounds punctured his right shoulder and thigh and creased the side of his head. She lifted his hand and found a faint heartbeat, touched her lips to his and felt the warmth of his breath.
“Please, God . . .”
It took longer still for Caroline to find a doctor who would agree to waste time on such a seemingly hopeless case. He finally consented only because he recognized Caroline and remembered her tireless work at the hospital. Charles’ family arrived, and they waited in icy silence for the doctor to finish the surgery. He came out to speak with them when he was done.
“He’s still alive . . . but barely. I’m sorry I can’t offer you a great deal of hope.”
“We’re taking him home,” Charles’ father announced.
“If you move him now you’ll kill him,” the doctor said. “He’s too weak. Wait a few days, until he recovers from the surgery. Miss Fletcher knows how to administer the very finest care. She has done excellent work here.”
The St. Johns stayed for several hours, hoping in vain that Charles would regain consciousness. But