“This whole conversation is me being worried.”
Even though the sun burned brightly, Lucy could feel a chill from the little graveyard nearby where her mother and stillborn brother lay, her uncle Eli with them. Lynn’s eyes shifted there too, as if following Lucy’s thoughts, and the chill settled into Lucy’s bones. If Lynn was worried, there was real danger.
Lucy reached for Lynn’s hair, long and unbound, tangled by the wind. “Sit down,” she coaxed. “Let me work on this rat’s nest.”
“Sitting down doesn’t do anybody any good,” Lynn argued, but sat nonetheless.
Lucy watched Lynn’s shoulders relax as she worked the knots free, then bound her thick hair into one large braid. “You need to learn how to do this yourself.”
“Can’t see the back of my own head.” Lynn said. “I should hack it all off, like yours.”
“No, I like it.” Lucy gave the braid in her hand a yank.
Lynn yelped good-naturedly. “All right, let go of me. We got work to do.”
Lucy kept her hand on Lynn’s braid a moment longer, delaying the trips from the line of sick to the pit where the fires burned. “It’s hard, watching the small ones go.”
“I know it. You were terribly sick when you were small. It was more than I could stand.”
“And the medicine from back then, it won’t help these kids?”
“No. Your grandma said it’s only good against sicknesses caused by bacteria, and polio’s a virus. She said even before the Shortage, there was nothing anyone could do for polio once you had it.”
“So she’s trying to figure out where it came from?”
Lynn rose to her feet. “That’s the plan, it seems. Figure out who or what Maddy got it from. In the meantime, we’re not to let anybody near our pond.”
“That should come naturally enough to you,” Lucy said, and Lynn gave her a swat on the behind.
They walked up the bank, away from the shade trees and into the heat of the spring sun. Around the bend in the stream they could see Stebbs and Vera’s cabin. Beyond were the rows of sick, waiting to die or recover. A few had blankets tossed over their faces. Lucy stopped in her tracks, unable to go farther. “I can’t stand lifting the edges to see who we lost.”
“Won’t make ’em any less dead.” Lynn took Lucy by the hand, her touch more gentle than her words. “Don’t forget your handkerchief,” she added, pulling hers up to cover her nose and mouth.
Lucy followed suit, and they made their way through the lines. Vera spotted them and wound her way through the maze of the ill. “Lynn, I’m sorry, but I need you to—”
“I’ve got it.” Lynn headed for the nearest bundle.
“Who was it?” Lucy asked.
Vera spoke softly. “There were quite a few, here in the early morning. Myrtle lost her two youngest.”
“Hank and little Frannie?” A sound followed their names up through her throat, a wordless mourning that Lucy couldn’t keep in. “How’d she take it?”
“She’s sleeping right now, was up all night caring for them. I don’t have the heart to wake her just yet.”
Vera motioned Lucy away from the line of blankets, and they walked into the tall grass, the only privacy there was. “I haven’t told anyone else yet, but Alex Hale died too, and Caroline Bowl.”
“But they’re Lynn’s age, at least. I thought it only killed babies.”
Vera motioned for Lucy to lower her voice. “Usually, yes. From what I know of polio it mostly killed children, the old, or the weak. But Stebbs and I were the last generation to be vaccinated. You remember what vaccination means?”
“It means you can’t get sick.”
“That’s right.” Vera sighed and raised her heavy black hair, shot with silver, off her neck. “For now all we can do is separate the sick from the well, find the source, and hope for the best. I moved the adults over to the other side of the road, by the bridge. There’s no sense in the children seeing their parents ill. It’ll scare them more than anything. They need to be told everything is going to be all right.”
“And what do you want me to do?”
Vera closed her eyes against the sun that was helping the contagion bloom and grow in her patients. “Can you tell me everything is going to be all right?”
Lucy spotted Carter in the mid morning, moving among the sick with a water jug. Her usual surge of happiness at seeing him—somewhat boosted of late by the feeling of her heart jumping into her throat—faded when she thought of Maddy.
Looking at Carter now caused the tears to spring back into Lucy’s eyes, and she turned her back on him. The child at her feet glanced up at her. “You okay?”
She dropped to her knees beside his blanket and put her hand on his forehead. “Adam, you’re making me look bad. I’m supposed to be the one asking after you.”
He shrugged. “Seems like you’re laughing most of the time. Just not today.”
“Not today. How you feeling?”