A TRUE STORY - LOST IN TIME 

By Tessa Harvey

    Elsie stared up at the big man standing by the door, clearly anxious to leave, looking at the latch, shuffling his feet, hefting his black leather medical bag.

    Moving back into the room a little, the doctor spoke slowly and clearly as though to deaf persons.

    Will was agitated, struggling to contain his anger. He came from a good Scottish family. They owned a small glove-making factory. His wife was a veritable queen to him. They were neither stupid or dull. But a doctor had power. They did not. Will hung his head a little, weary. It had been a long day in the shop, serving, keeping tally, checking the shelves, ordering.... He felt defeat nibbling at his courage.

    But Elsie, five foot two inches, glared up at the doctor. Her voice took on the lilting music of her Welsh forbears. "No, no hospital! I will nurse our son. He will not die alone in a cold strange bed." She saw her Will nod. "Jim stays here."

    The doctor, examining the boy, had exclaimed at the child's throat: "Had this been treated, he would not be this ill now."

    The parents had looked at each other. Call the doctor for a mere sore throat? Few people even sent for a doctor unless in extreme circumstances - sometimes not even then.

    The doctor held out his hand for his fee. Will had the money ready. All compassion gone, the man had thought to ask more, but Will quelled him with a cold glance. As the doctor left though, he paused. "When the throat is better, the disease he has now is not contagious." He left a script for the chemist.

    Then followed days and nights of constant nursing. Will reluctantly had to sleep more at night to work properly.

   As the fever flared and subsided, so did the hopes of the mother and the father. Jim called for them, for water, but fought on fiercely. One cold morning as the flickering fire died down and the flames and shadows crept away, the boy came back to them.