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awalkinavonlea
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Re: A New Journey ~ Life After the War


There was more to the situation—he just knew that there was more. “What about school? Why hasn’t Mr. Orwell called us back to class yet? Why do we have to stay inside all day and go no further than the porch?” He put all of the facts together. “It’s an outbreak, isn’t it?” he asked solemnly.

Knowing that it would do little good to deny it, Mrs. Spiers chose her words carefully as she answered. Information can be overwhelming in premature doses, but so is the imagination, thus both must be carefully maintained in balanced doses. “There are signs that it might be, yes. That is why Dr. Mullins wants to nip it in the bud before it can get any worse. He called me this morning while you boys were sleeping and confirmed that it is indeed influenza and there have been a growing number of cases reported in the area. All of the camp families are being warned either in person or over the telephone. His instructions are to keep children home to try to cut back the spread of the disease.” Michael’s face fell and she wondered if she had made the right choice to tell him. “It’s scary, I know,” she continued, “and I hope that I didn’t make it worse by telling you.”

“No, I asked you to be honest and you were. Thank you”

She took his hand in hers. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Michael strained his voice to speak. “Liam and Thom and Peter and me—will we get sick too?”

“I’ve seen influenza before and you boys haven’t shown any sign yet, so I think that you’re not in danger so long as we’re careful to follow the doctor’s orders. That is why I don’t want you boys going home until your aunt or uncle calls you back.”

Then something struck him. “What if Aunt Bridget and Uncle Braden become sick too? What will happen then?”

“Then, Dear, we will take care of them. But let’s just take one step at a time. You cannot cross a bridge before you get to it. We don’t know that they will get sick.”

“But what if everyone catches it and Dr. Mullins runs out of medicine?”

“We would send out for emergency supplies. In the meantime, do not make yourself sick in worrying because you will find no solution in that.”

Not looking confident in what Mrs. Spiers had said, Michael looked down to the floor. “Yes ma’am.” She opened her mouth to say something but he didn’t notice. “I don’t think that I should let the other fellows know,” he told her, “I think that this would be too much for them, even for Peter.”

“I fear that it is too much for you,” she replied.

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m old enough. I can take it.” His watering eyes betrayed him before he could turn his face away. Half of him felt that it was necessary for him to know all of this, while the other half wished he had never asked in the first place. It was bad enough being afraid for his cousins, but now they could also loose Braden and Bridget, not to mention the other townsfolk.


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5/27/2007, 11:15 pm
 
awalkinavonlea
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Re: A New Journey ~ Life After the War


“Why don’t we talk about this some more, Michael,” she offered, hoping that it would help him to vent out his fears. He just shook his head. “I’m sorry Mrs. Spiers but I don’t think that I’m going to go to bed. With all due respect, ma’am, I don’t feel like talking anymore.” The dark haired lady understood and said nothing more. Michael headed upstairs, forgetting to ask to be excused as he had been taught to do. He sat by the window, the moonlight shining on his face, as he tried to find some way to make things better.

Warm rays of sunlight introduced the morning as sunshine filled the cozy bedroom. A squirrel leapt from one tree branch to another near the window pane where Michael had dozed off. The gentle tapping woke him and he glanced at the clock at the nightstand near the beds where his cousins were sleeping. In about half an hour Mrs. Spiers would be calling them for breakfast. During his vigil the night before, Michael had decided that he needed to see his family even if was for just a second. He grabbed a free pillow from his bed and pulled the covers over it to make it look as much like an actual sleeping person as possible. Quietly he snuck out of the room and tip-toed down the stairs, hoping that no creaking floorboards would give him away. Mrs. Spiers’ bedroom door was still closed so she was probably still asleep. He held his breath as his foot left the final step and he got to the front door. Taking one last look behind him, he saw that the coast was clear. His plan was safely underway.

There were a few coal miners walking to work, metal lunch pails in their hands. He recognized some of them as the men who worked in his uncle’s part of the mine so he made himself scarce until they passed before he continued on his way. Running into the woods behind the houses in order to avoid being seen, Michael did not slow his speed until he heard a pounding sound coming from behind his own home. He crept behind the bushes, crawling closely to the ground to see what was going on. It was Braden, hammering away at an oddly shaped wooden box on top of a makeshift work bench. He was hammering the final side board into place. Fully camouflaged by the dense bushes, Michael continued to crawl until he could get a better look. With every pound of the hammer Braden’s expression grew more pained until his shoulders drooped and the instrument dropped from his hands down onto the work bench. “I can’t do this,” he murmured, “I can’t do this.”

At that time Winston appeared from the side of the house. He stood quietly by Braden’s side, not looking him in the eye. “I can’t lose her, Earl. I can’t lose my little girl,” the broken man’s voice trembled as he spoke. “I can’t do this.” Winston put a hand on his neighbor’s shoulder and picked up the hammer from its place on the table. He turned it over on its side to drive in the final nail when Michael realized that the odd shape box was actually a small coffin.


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5/27/2007, 11:15 pm
 
awalkinavonlea
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Re: A New Journey ~ Life After the War


In the shocking horror of his realization Michael forgot to stay hidden. He ran out from behind the bushes to the front of the house. Running up the stairs he peered in through the front window where he could see Bridget wiping the tears that were rolling down her face as she sat beside her childrens’ beds. Jacob moved in his sleep but Allannah was completely still. Michael stood there senseless at the door. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned around. Looking up he saw that it was Dr. Mullins. Everyone in town trusted and respected him. Mrs. Burber said that she had no idea why a graduate from a prestigious medical school would come to work in a dusty little town a million miles from no where with a lacking medicine cabinet. People paid with bread or stew, rarely with hard currency. He was practically a missionary, Mrs. Burber said. Regardless of his reasons for being there, the town was thankful to have him.

“Dr. Mullins…Allannah. Is she…is Allannah…” He couldn’t complete his sentence, his voice choked with fear. “Is she dead?”

“No, son,” he explained slowly, “but she’s bad off. I don’t think it’ll be much longer; maybe a few more days at best. Jacob appears to be fighting it better. I’ve ordered more supplies, the strongest arsenal that we have available in the medical field...” his words were lost as Michael ran off down the dusty road.

His mind scrambled. McKenzie. McKenzie would help to get that medicine to Allannah. It would take too long for a letter to get to New York; he would need to send a telegraph. Yes, a telegraph would get there in time! Mr. Goran at the general store could send one out since he had the contraption there. What if the store was closed? He ran to the door and found it unlocked.

“Mr. Goran! Mr. Goran!” Michael yelled. The shopkeeper looked up from where he was balancing the shop accounts. “Boy, what are you doing here? Don’t you know that there’s an epidemic? Go home!” Goran did not want to take the chance of getting sick. He backed away a few feet from the counter where Michael stood.

“Please, Mr. Goran! I need you to send a telegram for me. It’s an emergency!” the boy pleaded.

“No! Now go! You children are the ones spreading the influenza and I’m not taking any chances!” In reality Mr. Goran wasn’t a mean man but fear was bringing out the worst in him. “Now you’re a good boy. You don’t want Mr. Goran to get sick too, do you?

“Michael?” a woman called out to him. It was Mrs. Spiers at the door. She walked up to him and looked at Goran. “What’s going on here?” she demanded to know.

“The boy wants to send a telegraph. He should be home where he belongs, not outside spreading disease.” Clearly the shopkeeper was intent on not having them there a moment longer. Suddenly Michael had an idea. He began coughing into his shirt sleeve. At the sound of this Goran jumped back another foot behind the counter. “You see,” he told Mrs. Spiers while pointing to the coughing child. “He’s spreading it now.”


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5/27/2007, 11:16 pm
 
awalkinavonlea
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Re: A New Journey ~ Life After the War


Michael looked up at the two grownups with the most innocent expression he could muster. “I can’t leave without sending that telegraph.” He burst into another round of coughs. “Fine! Fine!” Goran shouted, covering his nose and mouth with his apron to shield himself from the boy’s coughs. He grabbed a pencil and tablet of paper. “Who, what, and where?” he sharply asked.

“Mr. Derrick McKenzie, New York Times.” Michael instructed.

Goran was in such a hurry to get them out of the store that he did not even stop to ask what exactly Michael wanted him to write. He no longer paid attention to what the boy was saying. Quickly sitting down at the telegraph machine, he typed out:

EMERGENCY TELEGRAPH
ATTENTION D. MCKENZIE
INFLUENZA OUTBREAK IN TOWN
DENNIS FAMILY CRITICALLY ILL
REQUESTING ASSISTANCE, MEDICAL SUPPLIES IMMEDIATELY

The machine clicked away with every tap. Mr. Goran took a minute to be sure that the message had gone through. He looked up at Michael and decided to send it a second time, just in case. Finally it was done.

“There!” He stood up from the three legged stool he had been using. “It’s sent. Now will you please leave?” he practically begged. Satisfied, Michael and Mrs. Spiers thanked him and left. “Just put that on my tab, Mr. Goran,” she told him over her shoulder as they walked out of the store. Once they were safely out of earshot she stopped Michael in his tracks. Feeling his face for a fever but finding none she smirked at his guilty smile. “You’re not sick at all, are you?”

“No, ma’am.” He hung his head even though he still felt a hint of pride for his sudden ingenuity.

“And you intentionally left the house after you were told not to?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He did feel bad for being disobedient and for lying. Still, no matter what the punishment he could be given, it would be worth it if it could save Allannah. “How did you know that I’d be here?”

“I had called you boys down for breakfast. When I didn’t see you I figured that you were sleeping in after being up so late last night. Such a spell of time passed that I grew fearful that perhaps you were sick. Imagine to my surprise when I found that you had transformed from a boy into a pillow.” She wanted to appear angry but the corner of her smile gave her away. “I was on my way to find you when Dr. Mullins telephoned the house. He told me everything that had happened. Then I saw you going into the general store. You know the rest of the story from there.” The two of them began walking back to her house again. “Normally I would say that those things would qualify you to be punished, but under these circumstances we’ll overlook it. I can’t honestly say that I blame you for what you did.”

“I didn’t want to mislead Mr. Goran,” Michael explained, “I did it for a good cause. Kinda like a holy lie, I guess.”

She stopped and looked at him. “Michael, there is no such thing as a holy lie. Those two words shouldn’t even be spoken together. It’s a contradiction and dangerously near to being sacrilegious.”

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t want to be sacrilegious. Quickly he sent up a silent prayer for forgiveness.

Mrs. Spiers’ eyes twinkled at him. “You know, Michael, all wrong-doings aside and forgotten, I’m proud of you. I daresay that you were looking out for others before yourself.”

They returned to the house. The boys asked him where he had been. He decided not to tell them about Allannah. They were already praying for her to get better. Instead he told them that about what happened at the store with Mr. Goran. Now they would have to wait and see what the next few days would bring.

When the boys had trouble sleeping that night, Mrs. Spiers brought them cups of hot chocolate to remedy the situation. She lovingly read them a chapter from ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ as she had done for her own sons. Raindrops tapped lightly at the bedroom window. When the chapter ended, Mrs. Spiers brought in extra sheets for them before bidding them a good night. She was closing the door behind her when she heard Peter speak in a small voice, “Could you leave the door a bit open, Miss? I mean, in case I need to get Thom some water.” He felt better when he could hear people moving about. When Mrs. Spiers would read downstairs at the parlor room the lantern light would give off a soft glow. The night felt less lonesome with that light.

“I can get my own water,” Thom responded reproachfully.

She smiled knowingly at them. “Of course. I’ll be just down the hall if you boys need anything.”


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5/27/2007, 11:16 pm
 
awalkinavonlea
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Re: A New Journey ~ Life After the War


The steady rhythm of the rain had its soothing affect unmatched by any lullaby. One by one the boys closed their eyes. When he heard his brother sleeping, Thom brought out a stuffed bear that he had found and hidden under his pillow. Snuggling the bear tightly against his face, Thom yawned and fell into a sound slumber. Even Michael, worried of what would happen if his plan didn’t work, eventually fell asleep.

At first his sleep was a dreamless one. Then a scene unfolded around him in bright, vivid colors. He was standing in a grassy field filled with flowers. There was sunshine all around. A golden, light, carefree voice called out to him. He recognized the voice as Allannah’s. “Michael, Michael, come play,” sang the voice. “Betcha you can’t find me.” He could hear her laugh. “Betcha you can’t find me.” In his dream he searched but did not see her. “Michael, Michael.” Even in the dream her voice she sounded just as she did when they would play hide-and-seek. He kept searching for her but could not find her.

Then he heard another laugh; one that he had not heard for the longest time but still very familiar. He turned towards the sound and saw his father standing in the distance with sunlight glowing all around him. Alec looked the same as Michael remembered him, just as tall and strong and kind and dressed in his work clothes. He looked at Michael with eyes filled with a father’s pride. Michael wanted to run to hug him but, to his heartache, found that he could not. Yet, there was this indescribable presence there in the dream that was so strong, so much more powerful than his despair. He could not help but feel safe and loved as he watched his father smiling at him.

Suddenly he saw Allannah come running in her favorite yellow dress towards Alec, laughing all the while as she held a braid of daises in her hand. She sang as she skipped happy circles around her uncle. Finally she stopped to lift up her arms for him to pick her up. He scooped her up gently and she whispered something in his ear. Then she turned her gaze to Michael, resting her head against Alec’s shoulder, the sunlight shining around them, and smiled sweetly and peacefully at him. Slowly their images began to fade as the light continued to shine brighter. “Michael, Michael.” Allannah’s voice still rang quietly in his ears as the dream ended. He slowly opened his eyes. The night’s rain had gone and sunlight was filling the room.

Michael closed his eyes, remembering all that he had dreamt. It had been such a wonderful dream that felt so much more real than any dream he had ever had before. For a moment all he could think of was seeing his father again. He wanted to remember every second of that dream.

Wait! A cold thought struck him. What if the dream was trying to tell him something? Bernice Oggert at school once said that it was bad luck if you dream of people who had died. She said that if you or the deceased talk in the dream than more than likely you or someone you know is going to die. Allannah! But that had to be some silly superstition, right? The Dennises were not a superstitious lot yet Michael could not get the thought out of his head. He jumped up out of bed and raced down the hall. Perhaps he prayed all day and fasted then maybe God wouldn’t let Allannah die. Maybe he could break the curse and save Allannah. Maybe he could trade his life for her. There had to be a way to undue this all.

“Mrs. Spiers! Mrs. Spiers!” his knocked frantically at her door. She had already dressed and was going to begin cooking breakfast. With a look of surprise she opened the door to find a frightened pale face looking up at her. “Why Michael,” she knelt down so that she was eye-level to him, “what has happened?”

“Please, Mrs. Spiers, it’s not true that if you dream of the dead that someone is going to die, isn’t it? I mean,” his words raced in his nervousness, “that isn’t going to happen, right? Allannah’s not going to die because she was talking to my father in my dream, right?”

Abigail Spiers had never been as bewildered in her whole life as she was that moment, trying to sort out what the boy had said. She walked him over to a sitting chair near the window. “Michael,” she sat him down and poured him a glass of water from the pitcher sitting on the vanity. “I need you to repeat that back again a little more slowly. Now, what is this about a dream?”

Michael pulled his thoughts together. “I had a dream last night that I was standing in a field. Allannah was calling my name but I couldn’t find her. I could hear her but I couldn’t find her. Then I saw my father. He looked just like he did when he was…when he was still alive. He looked at me so proudly, Mrs. Spiers. I know that this can’t be a bad dream. I just know that my father would have nothing to do with a bad omen.” He saw Mrs. Spiers look confused again so he went back to describing the dream. “I saw Allannah run towards my father, dancing in circles and singing around him. Then she lifted up her arms and he picked her up. She whispered something to him and rested her head on his shoulder and smiled at me. Does this mean that she’s going to die? What if she’s already dead? What if she died while I was dreaming?” Tears ran down his face. “Dr. Mullins thought that she had a few days left. Is this all my fault?”

“Dear one, of course not,” her heart broke for him as she heard the fear in his voice. “Look at me,” she looked him seriously in the eye when it appeared that he could not believe her, “this was a dream, Michael.”


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5/27/2007, 11:17 pm
 
awalkinavonlea
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Re: A New Journey ~ Life After the War


He needed to be cleared of all doubt. “But in the Bible there are plenty of fellows with dreams that mean something. What about the story of the Pharoah and Joseph that the preacher told us in Sunday school? Those dreams meant something.”

“That’s true. They did have meaning,” she said with care, “but it was God who sent them.”

“What if God sent this dream to me to tell me that Allannah’s going to die? What if she’s already dead?”

Mrs. Spiers took a deep breath as she sat on the edge of her bed. How could she explain something as complex as God and dreams and death, especially at a time like this? Honestly, she did not know the origin of the dream, whether it was Heaven sent or the result of weight that his cousins’ sickness had on Michael’s mind. All that she knew was that there was a frightened child crying in front of her who needed answers. She pulled a clean handkerchief from her apron pocket to wipe away his tears.

“Michael, I know from Dr. Mullins that Allannah is very ill. I need you to tell me, though, why is it you fear she will definitely die or may already be dead because of this dream.” He told her what Bernice Oggert had reported. “I’ve long heard that saying,” Mrs. Spiers replied, “but there’s not an ounce of truth in it. You need to stay clear from superstitions, because they only feed upon a person’s fears. People who follow superstition put their faith in actions or things rather than in God. Just because Allannah was talking to your late father doesn’t mean that she will definitely die or has already died. What I’m trying to say is that the dream itself doesn’t have any power over life or death.”

“What if God was trying to tell me something, though?”

“I don’t know Michael, it’s possible that maybe He was trying to tell you something. What do you think that the dream meant?”

Michael reflected on the dream for a moment. “I think that maybe God was telling me that Allannah is going to be okay, even if she does die.”

“The Lord loves us, Michael, and He wants us to trust Him. As hard as it is to lose someone we love, we must remember to have faith, for the Lord is in control. He doesn’t want fear to rule or ruin our lives.”

“Why would God let Allannah die?” he asked bitterly.

“There’s so much that we can’t understand, Michael, and I wish that I had a better explanation for you but I don’t. I do know that God does care about Allannah and you and your family. God is a good God and He doesn’t play games with the hearts of humans. He will not desert you or Allannah. Have faith, Michael. God knows what you are going through.”

Michael sat quietly. He wanted to have faith but he could not shake his fear. “What if she’s already dead?”

“Come with me,” she took his hand and they walked out of the room. She checked on the other boys and found them sound asleep.

“What are you going to do?” he asked as he stood behind her while she closed the door.

“I’m going to try to get us answers,” she said as they walked to the kitchen where the telephone stood on a shelf. She rang Dr. Mullins’ office but to her dismay there was no answer. Michael read the disappointment in her face. “He’s not there, is he?”

Mrs. Spiers’ forehead furrowed as she thought the situation through. “He may be paying a house call to another family. Oh, Michael, don’t lose hope; we’ll trying telephoning him again in a moment until we do reach him. Besides, if something had happened, I believe that the doctor would have called us, don’t you agree.” Michael did agree that her reasoning made sense. At least there was some comfort in that thought. After a few minutes she gave a second round of rings, still to no avail.

“What do we do now?” Michael asked.

“We wait.” She motioned for him to sit with her at the kitchen table as she prepared biscuits for breakfast. At first Michael could not bring his steady stare away from the telephone. He was sure that it would ring at any moment. Yet the minutes passed without a single sound. Michael began to lose heart. There had to be something else that they could do besides wait. His hostess noticed his disposition and set him to work there in the kitchen. After all, a watched pot never boils and so it is that a watched phone never rings.

Time moved too slowly for the boy as he helped to set the table. Placing the last plate down Michael sighed. “How much longer do we have to wait?” he asked. Mrs. Spiers wiped her hands on her apron. “It’s been about ten minutes now. I’ll try calling again.” She walked towards the phone.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Michael said. “I mean, yes, please do call but what I meant before was how long will it be until the epidemic passes and the quarantine is over?” Waiting might not have been so bad if the boys weren’t confined to the house, away from their family. His hostess looked at him, then at the phone, and then back at him. “We’ll try calling again and then we’ll talk.” When there was no answer, Mrs. Spiers hung up the telephone receiver and the two returned to the kitchen table.


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5/27/2007, 11:17 pm
 
awalkinavonlea
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Re: A New Journey ~ Life After the War


“When I came to the States with McKenzie, they made us stay on the ship there at the dock for thirty days. Will it be the same here?” he asked her as she cut up links of breakfast sausage.

“I believe so. That seems to be the standard,” she answered as she moved to heat the cast iron skillet on the stove.

Michael grimaced. “So we have to stay here for a whole month?” As soon as the words had left his mouth he wished that he could grab them from out of the air as if they had never been spoken. The lady had been so kind to them—he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She looked up from her cooking and his heart sank with guilt.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Spiers. I mean, you’ve been so nice to me and my cousins—I mean my cousins and I—and it’s such a nice house and all but…”

Abigail interrupted him with understanding in her eyes. “But you want to be home. Michael, I can only imagine what you boys are going through, being away from your family, and especially now of all times. As slow as it may be, this too will pass.”

The telephone rang and Michael jumped up from his chair to grab the receiver. “Hello!” He expected to hear Dr. Mullins’ voice but instead heard that of a lady. “Who is this?” the lady asked with surprise at hearing an unfamiliar voice on the other line. Mrs. Spiers motioned for the boy to hand her the phone. He did so and returned to his chair with disappointment. “Rebecca, dear, it’s good to hear your voice. How are Paul and the children?” She listened to the woman on the phone for a moment or two. “Oh, how sweet…Can I call you a bit later? Yes, everything is alright…I have guests here but I’ll talk to you soon. Give my love to everyone there...Yes…Good-bye, dear.” The phone clicked as she hung up the receiver. “That was my daughter-in-law, Rebecca,” she explained to Michael. Once again she tried to call the doctor but there was no response. With a sigh she went back to making breakfast.

The frying pan hissed loudly as links of sausage cooked on the stove. Michael watched as Mrs. Spiers warmed oatmeal for Liam’s breakfast. “Do you suppose that McKenzie received the telegram by now?” he asked. With the back of her hand she brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. “More than likely,” she answered, looking at him. “The battle is won so long as one holds onto hope, you remember that. Now, do me a favor and call your cousins down for breakfast.”

Michael did as was asked of him. Thom came down first and Peter followed behind carrying Liam. Watching them reminded Abigail Spiers of her own boys when they were still children. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to have those days back, with her husband Henry and their sons together with her again. Her heart ached a little as she brought herself back to her work. What was it that the wise said? Cherish old memories and tend to new dreams? She may be what some considered to be a middle-aged woman but she knew that there was still more life to be lived.

She set the boys’ plates in front of them as they sat down. “Did the rain keep you boys up last night?” she asked. Peter shook his head, “No, Ma’am.”

“I had a peculiar dream last night,” Thom said without looking up from the buttery biscuit in his hand.

“And what was your dream about, may I ask?” Mrs. Spiers asked as she feed Liam his oatmeal.

Thom sat back in his chair deep in thought. “There was this one fellow standing in some field.”

“What’d he look like?” Michael quickly asked.

“I dunno. Looked a lot like Da, I guess, but it wasn’t him. The fellow smiled at me and then turned to his friend and…”

“I thought that you said that it was just one fellow,” Peter interrupted.

“Well it was, at first, but then his friend showed up dressed all in white. Anyways, I don’t know why, but I immediately knew that I liked them because they were nice. Then I saw the second fellow pick up Allannah and…”

Peter interrupted again. “Allannah? When did she get in your dream? I thought that you said that there was just the one fellow and then the other.”

“It was,” Thom explained with some annoyance. “But then Allannah showed up. It’s my dream, let me tell it,” he protested.

“Boys…” Mrs. Spiers warned with the corrective tone in her voice that must be instinctually equivalent in all mothers because she sounded just like Bridget. Thom kept his temper in check and went on to finish retelling his dream.

“Anyway, the second fellow said something to Allannah and she said something back to him, only I couldn’t hear what they were saying. She seemed to like him too, because she looked real happy to be talking to him.”

“Then what happened?” Michael asked.
“Then they all looked at me and smiled.” Thom took a forkful of sausage. “Then I woke up. What did you dream about, Pete?”


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5/27/2007, 11:18 pm
 
awalkinavonlea
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Re: A New Journey ~ Life After the War


Peter shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t remember.” Indeed, he did not remember but it was perhaps all for the best. Although he had fallen asleep rather quickly, his sleep been a troubled one, and he had awoken several times during the night with his head full of worries for his family and little Lucy Talbot. The tiredness in his face did not escape his hostess’ watchful care. “Peter, do you feel alright?” she asked as she felt his face for a fever.

“Yes ma’am.” He didn’t dare look her in the eye in fear that she’d ask more questions. After raising five boys of her own she understood the sentiment and spoke no more of the matter. They continued to finish breakfast as the telephone stood by like a silent centennial at its post. When they were done Mrs. Spiers suggested that they have a math lesson so that they wouldn’t fall behind in their studies. Michael had just managed to get some focus on a particularly challenging geometry problem when there was a knock on the door.

“I wonder who on Earth could that be,” a puzzled Mrs. Spiers thought aloud, rising from her chair to investigate. “I certainly hope that it’s not a peddler. You must always be careful when you buy from a peddler; you never know what may be in those little glass bottles they sell. Indeed, I wonder if the women who actually buy those hair dyes are satisfied with the results.” She opened the door just wide enough to see who it was.

Michael couldn’t see much of the front entrance from where he was sitting. He was anticipating a call on the telephone, not a call in person. When he heard a man say, “Good afternoon Mrs. Spiers,” he recognized the voice as Dr. Mullins’ and looked up from the geometry equation. “Is young Michael here? We have someone here to see him.”

“Yes, certainly Dr. Mullins, please come in.” Abigail opened the door to let the visitors in.

Michael imagined that maybe, just maybe, it would be Allannah standing there with the doctor. To his amazement it wasn’t. Although he couldn’t have been happier if it was her, he was ever so glad to see the person standing there.


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5/27/2007, 11:19 pm
 
awalkinavonlea
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Re: A New Journey ~ Life After the War


“Mike! Thank God that you’re alright!” McKenzie exclaimed with a breath of relief.

“Mac!” Michael ran up to him and hugged him tightly just as he would have if he was a little boy again.

“By the telegram I feared that you would be lost by the time I got here. It would’ve broken my heart to have to let your dear mother know that something had happened to you.” In complete honesty, he too would have been devastated, not just Isobel.

“Mr. Goran sent that telegram yesterday afternoon. How did you manage to get here from New York so quickly?” Mrs. Spiers asked in wonder.

 “I got here as fast as I could. You see, I have a friend who works for the railroad. The good fellow managed to get me passage on a midnight train. I guess that you can say that it’s providential because I had one foot out the office door when my assistant rushed the telegram to me. It’s a good thing that she did, too, because I was on my way to Nova Scotia to cover a story. I wouldn’t have gotten your message for days otherwise.”

“And our friend here came bearing some much needed gifts,” Dr. Mullins chipped in, “as well as some extra help.”

“I have a neighbor by the name of Donald Billings,” Mac explained, “who is a retired doctor with connections to the hospital administration there in New York. He ordered an emergency supply of medication. Then he and his wife, who is a retired nurse, both volunteered to help. They themselves have lost a child to influenza many years ago. So you see this cause is near and dear to their heart.”

“Do you all need a place to stay?” she asked.

“The Billings will be staying in the extra room at my home, Mrs. Spiers. We believed that it would be best to keep the medical team together, so to speak. We were wondering if Mr. Goran wouldn’t mind renting out the spare room at the general store.” Dr. Mullins answered.

“Well we have an extra room here if you need a place to stay, Mr. McKenzie,” she offered.

“It’s better than the spare room anyway,” Michael told Mac, hoping that he’d agree to stay. “The general store has rats.”

“Michael, that’s not nice to say,” Mrs. Spiers corrected him.

“But its true,” Peter agreed with his cousin. “I’ve seen ‘em. It’s not Mr. Goran’s fault. He tries to keep the store clean but with rats, well, they always find a way.”

“I’d be much obliged for your hospitality, ma’am.” McKenzie said.

“Will Allannah and Jacob be alright, Dr. Mullins?” Michael asked with Thom and Peter awaiting his reply.

“Jacob’s doing a great deal better. His breathing is much more clear.”

“And Allannah?”

“She’s got a ways to go, boys, but I think that her chances are greater now that we’ve got this medicine. She’s quite a fighter, that little girl is.”

“It’s that good old Irish constitution we folk have,” Mac said with a smile.

“Well, it’s going to be in her favor. Now that we’ve got this medicine, I believe that we’ll be able to fight this influenza and win. Keep praying too, lads, because I believe that it’s just as critically needed as the medicine.” The boys nodded in unison.


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5/27/2007, 11:20 pm
 
awalkinavonlea
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Re: A New Journey ~ Life After the War


“How are our parents?” Peter asked.

“Your mother had a bit of a fever a few days ago but I’m glad to say that it passed. I believe that her knowing that you boys were healthy and safe helped her. You’ve done more than you know, Abigail.” He looked at her with admiring appreciation. The doctor had forgotten to address her more formally but he did not seem to notice this.

“Thank you, doctor,” she replied. “I believe that the thanks belongs to God those who do His work. I daresay that I don’t know what the town would have done without you.” Feeling her face begin to flush, she quickly switched her attention to Mac. “Would you lie to see where you’ll be staying, Mr. McKenzie?”

“Yes, ma’am, thank you,” Mac replied. Michael happily followed behind the two of them. Jacob was doing better and he was sure that Allannah would pull through too. Not only was McKenzie here but he’d be there until the quarantine was over. Though it still be difficult, this time of waiting would be much more bearable now.

Thom and Peter sat next to Dr. Mullins on the parlor sofa. “Well boys, how have you enjoyed your stay here with Mrs. Spiers?” he asked.

“She’s real nice. We miss Ma and Dad a bunch, but Mrs. Spiers has been real good to us,” Peter answered.

Thom looked over his shoulder to be sure that the lady was not in earshot. “Have you noticed how her eyes are two different colors? Do you suppose that makes her magical?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“I’ve noticed them, but I’m not sure about them making her magical,” the man mused.

“Well, magic or not, I like ‘em. I think that she’s real pretty with ‘em.”

“You know what, let me tell you a little secret,” Dr. Mullins replied in an equally hushed voice, “I agree.” Dr. Mullins winked and put a finger to his lips so as to signal that what he had said should not be repeated. Thom giggled and left to play with Liam. When he was gone, Peter inquired nervously, “Dr. Mullins, you wouldn’t happen to know about Lucy Talbot, would you?”

“I paid a visit to the Talbots yesterday. She’s fine, Peter,” he answered to the boy’s great joy. “You know, she asked the same about you.”

“You’re not going to tell anyone that I asked about her, are you?,” an embarrassed Peter asked.

“Certainly not. I consider that to be a matter of doctor-patient confidentiality.” Mullins replied with such resolve that Peter knew that he could trust that the physician would not repeat what he had heard.

When McKenzie’s tour of the house was over, they all reunited in the parlor. It looked as if the men were ready to leave so that Mac could get his suitcase from the doctor’s office when Thom, looking quite innocent, spoke up. “You’ll stay for lunch, won’t you Dr. Mullins? Mrs. Spiers makes real good fried chicken. And the chocolate cake-it’s something fierce. ”

Both the lady and the doctor stared in surprise for a second at that little freckled face. Mac, who had an idea of what was going on, fought the urge to laugh at the boy’s boldness. “I’d love to. That is, of course, if it’s alright with you, Mrs. Spiers,” Dr Mullins said as he looked at her. Abigail came to her senses. “Of course, Doctor, you’re welcomed to join us. Oh, and so are you, Mr. McKenzie,” she added quickly.

“It’s settled then!” Thom announced.

“What are you doing?” Peter whispered in his brother’s ear as the adults began speaking about McKenzie’s trip.

“What do you mean?” Thom asked.

“He means, why did you invite Dr. Mullins to lunch?” Michael joined in.

“He’s got to eat, don’t he?” was the answer they received. The boys had to agree that this made sense. The boys had to agree that this made sense. Yet, no explanation was given as to why Thom stubbornly arranged it so that Michael had to give up his seat near Mrs. Spiers to Dr. Mullins.

That night when Mrs. Spiers was tucking them into bed, Michael remarked about how grand it was that things looked like they were taking a turn for the better. "I'm sure now that God does answer prayers," he said.

"Yes He does," Mrs. Spiers agreed. "Sometimes the answer comes quickly, and sometimes it takes a while, but it always comes right on time."

"Do you suppose that my dream and Thom's dream meant that my father is Allannah's guardian angel?" he wondered.

"Well, I believe that there is a place in the Scriptures that says that those in heaven pray for those of us here on Earth. Whether your father is her guardian angel or I know, though, that in the book of Matthew, it clearly says that that in heaven, children's angels do always behold the face of God in Heaven. That means that all of Heaven is up there caring for your welfare."

"I'm glad," Michael responded as his eyes grew heavy. For the first night since the influenza had come, his heart felt free. Things felt safe again.


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5/27/2007, 11:21 pm
 




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