Mankillers

“How old is your father, Mrs. Drexel?”

“Fifty-nine, although he’s aged terribly in recent months.”

“Has he had any significant past illnesses or health problems?”

“He’s always been in excellent health, eats well but not to excess, doesn’t use tobacco in any form, and is abstemious in his use of alcohol. But lately. . . . Father’s become a different person from the man I’ve known all my life.” She bit her lip. “Yet he refuses to see a doctor. I realize this is a great imposition, Dr. Thomson, especially since we’re complete strangers, but the episode this morning truly scares me . . . and Mother. We are, of course, prepared to pay any consultation fee you may require.”

“The fee’s of no consequence,” he said dismissively. “This case interests me. I’ll be most happy to help you if I can.” He thought a minute. “It doesn’t sound as if your father will readily consent to a formal medical evaluation, so perhaps a subterfuge would be more productive. If it’s acceptable to you, I’ll ask the captain to seat me and my cabin mate at your table for supper this evening and use the occasion to question your father without making him suspicious. Afterward, privately, I can give you and your mother my impressions and perhaps some recommendations.”

“Oh, thank you so much, doctor. I truly appreciate your helping us.” She rose and extended her lace-gloved hand. “We’ll see you around seven then.”

He took her hand briefly and lightly. As she turned and walked away he followed her with his eyes. An attractive woman, despite being in black. Obviously in mourning. Had she too lost someone dear to her in this accursed war?

#

The dining salon was nearly full when Buck entered several hours later. He’d coaxed Asa out of the musty stateroom by insisting he needed to come to the “mess” for his evening meal. As soon as they entered, the captain, already alerted, rose, approached and in a voice loud enough to be overheard, asked, “Doctor, in light of the crowded conditions, would you and your companion be willing to share a table with someone already seated?”

Buck readily accepted. He and Asa followed the hearty man in his impeccable white uniform to the table in the corner.

“Mr. and Mrs. Greenwald, and Mrs. Drexel,” the captain said, “may I present Dr. Elijah Thomson and . . .”

“This is my friend, Asa Boone from Charleston,” Buck said when the captain faltered on the name. “We served in the army together.”

Asa mumbled an inaudible greeting.

Mrs. Greenwald and Buck exchanged the usual Southern genteel pleasantries. Her husband, seemingly oblivious to the arrival of strangers, remained seated. His face was mask-like, devoid of expression. Buck and Asa took the two vacant seats at the round table.

While the meal was being served Buck and the ladies made light conversation. Sarah’s father responded only to direct questions, answering in a flat monotone, as did Asa. Buck noted Mrs. Greenwald was regarding his young companion with the same expression of concern she showed toward her husband.

Giving no indication he found the elderly man’s reactions unusual in any way, Buck tested Mr. Greenwald’s recall of recent and remote events, dates and his perception of time, place and person. Almost without exception Mr. Greenwald evaded answers, furnished erroneous information, refused outright to reply to questions or dismissed them as stupid or impertinent.

“I’ve been told,” Buck said lightly as the remains of the main course were being cleared away by a thin black man dressed in a starched white uniform, “Chinese physicians claim to diagnose many illnesses by feeling one’s pulse at the wrist. May I try?”

“Oh, yes,” Sarah responded eagerly. Throughout the meal she’d been intently observing the exchange between the two men and becoming increasingly ill-at-ease with her father’s responses. Occasionally, she glanced at Asa who seemed equally disinterested in the events around him.

“Me first, please.” She extended her hand across the table to Buck who placed the tips of his fingers on her wrist. After counting her pulse for a full minute, he repeated the process with her mother.

“Well, ladies,” Buck said with feigned jocularity, “I seem to have no effect on your hearts. Your pulses remain normal.”

Sarah and her mother smiled at each other, playing their parts in Buck’s game.

He turned to the older man sitting beside him. “And now, Mr. Greenwald, you, sir, if I may.”

Sarah’s father neither offered his hand nor objected when Buck took his limp wrist and felt his pulse. Buck’s expression didn’t change when he detected an irregularity in the gentleman’s heartbeat. “Hale and hearty, sir. I congratulate you.”

His response was to a

Mrs. Greenwald bowed her head in embarrassment. “If you’ll excuse us please, doctor.” She rose wearily and placed her napkin on the table in front of her. “Sarah, would you help me?”

Buck and Asa stood up as well.

“Of course, Mother.” Sarah turned to Buck. “Thank you for joining us, doctor.” In a lower tone she added, “I’ll be back as soon as we get Father settled in for the night.”

The two women escorted the shuffling old man out of the dining room.

#

On the cabin deck Jacob Greenwald shook off his daughter’s attempt to guide him and trundled in the wrong direction.

“Mother,” Sarah called out.

With their stateroom key in her hand, Ruth glanced back. “Oh, dear.” She caught up with her disoriented husband and took him by the arm. “Jacob, come with me this way.”

He stared at her blankly, shrugged, and followed her like a docile child.

Inside the small compartment, she sat him on the bed and began to unlace his high-top shoes. Sarah started to unbutton his coat, but he brushed her hand away.

“Why don’t you step outside and let me finish getting him ready for bed,” her mother said.

“I want to help.”

“I know you do, honey, but this will go much faster if you let me do it.”

“After you have him in bed, can we leave him here by himself?”

“No, dear, I’d better stay with him. He’s used to me bossing him around.”

“Mother, I’m his daughter. He’s used to me too.”

“You’ve been away since he got sick. It’s all right, sweetheart. Why don’t you go back to the dining room and find out what Dr. Thomson’s opinion is, and any recommendations he has. Then you can tell me.”

Sarah squirmed. “If you say so, Mother.”

Ruth removed her husband’s cravat. “It shouldn’t be too unpleasant. It’s quite clear the handsome young doctor is attracted to you, my dear.”

“Oh, mother I don’t have time for that now. Besides, I’m a woman in mourning.”

Ruth smiled. “You’re a woman first. And he’s obviously a gentleman. Your widow’s weeds don’t seem to have dulled his interest.”

Sarah tilted her head to one side in resignation and stepped to the door. “Very well, I’ll find out what he has to say.”

#

As soon as the ladies left, Asa a

“I’ll go with you.”

“I can find it myself, Buck.”

“I’m sure you can, but I want to see you get there safely.”

“And lock me in again?” His tone harbored only mild offense.

“Just until I can rejoin you, my friend.”

Asa shrugged dismissively. “Fine.” He preceded Buck onto the deck. When they reached their state room, he remarked, “She sure is a pretty lady.”

Buck smiled. “I think so too.”

“I wonder why she’s so sad.”

Buck said nothing. After his companion had crawled into his bunk, he returned to the dining room and resumed his seat at the table. Sipping freshly-poured coffee, he pondered how best to break his news to the ladies. When Sarah alone rejoined him, he rose to greet her.