Celestial Springs

Chapter 8-2

“Is that possible?” Clara asked, taking a step forward.

“Yes, it’s quite possible,” the doctor replied. “And the stomach troubles could also be a symptom of anxiety, for certain. You are betrothed to Spencer Hayes, aren’t you, Miss Genevieve?”

She was having difficulty following the conversation now. It was troubling to believe she had caused a scene with an elderly woman at church and had no recollection of it whatsoever, especially considering her mother said it happened only a short time ago. She did catch the question about Spencer, however, and she nodded her head in response.

“I’m sure you’re quite anxious for his return?” the doctor clarified.

“Yes, of course,” Ginny managed, though she was still distracted by thoughts of what may have transpired at church.

“I recommend we try some laudanum,” he said, turning back to her mother. “That should take care of both the nervousness and the stomach pain.”

“Very well then. Thank you, doctor,” Clara replied, but her eyes were on her daughter and the puzzled expression that had caused her eyes to glaze over just a bit.

“Miss Genevieve, you take care. Lots of rest, lots of water, and stay out of the heat. I am sure that Mr. Hayes will make this his first stop as soon as he returns, so there’s no need for you to wait for him at the pier again. Do you hear me, young lady?” he asked as he pulled himself up off of the bed, gathered his tools, and placed them back in his bag.

Her head was nodding, but Ginny’s thoughts were elsewhere. She only heard bits and pieces of the conversation Dr. Wilson and her mother were having as they crossed over to her bedroom door.

“Is she going to be all right?” Clara was asking.

“I believe so,” Dr. Wilson assured her. “So long as she takes her medicine. And if the news from sea is good. Otherwise, well, one can only hope for the best.”

“We are praying for Spencer’s safe return,” Clara replied, glancing back at her daughter whose eyes were now closed.

“Tell me, Mrs. Cawley,” the doctor began in a hushed tone, “Miss Genevieve was always well supervised while she was with Mr. Hayes, wasn’t she?”

“Yes, of course!” Clara exclaimed. “As I said earlier, we have raised our daughter with the utmost care, teaching her proper manners and holding her to the highest possible standards when it comes to her virtues.”

The doctor nodded. “Please don’t be offended, madam. I was only making sure. Since Miss Genevieve does sometimes have a habit of… wandering… I just wanted to alleviate any possibility that, perhaps, she had done so before. When Mr. Hayes was still in town.”

“Of course not,” Clara assured him. “And even so, Mr. Spencer Hayes is a gentleman. Why, his father owns the largest shipping company in all of Baltimore. He would never….”

“No, of course he wouldn’t,” Dr. Wilson agreed, stepping out into the hallway. “Handsome young man on his way out to sea, beautiful young lady who has already promised him her heart. You’re right, Mrs. Cawley. Nothing of the sort has ever happened.”

“Dr. Wilson, are you suggesting…” Clara began, closing the door behind her.

Ginny could hardly hear the rest of the conversation through the thick oak door, but she did hear Dr. Wilson say, “… not suggesting anything…. Vomiting… tender abdomen… Keep an eye….”

And then their footsteps were on the stairs and she could hear no more. Whatever it was Dr. Wilson may or may not have been suggesting to her mother was beyond Ginny’s comprehension. As was the idea that she could have had some sort of disagreement with an older woman at church. At the moment, Ginny decided she was too exhausted to think on either of those suggestions any more, and so she turned her attention to the window, which though it looked out only on her back garden, still lay beneath the same sky where, somewhere out there, Spencer could also look up into endless blue the same color as his eyes.

“Dr. Wilson said the laudanum should help,” her mother was saying on the other side of the bedroom wall. “She took some earlier today—though I had to force her. She’s slept most of the afternoon, but there’s been no vomiting.”

Ginny sat up, astonished to see it was dark already. She’d remembered her mother forcing her to swallow the bitter medicine earlier in the day, but that had been around dinner time, and she couldn’t remember a thing since then. Her father was answering. She could hear his voice but couldn’t make out a single word. Quietly, she crept from bed and made her way across the room to press her ear against the wall, catching only the end of his sentence.

“… feel better soon.”

“I hope so, too,” came her mother’s voice. “But I suppose that depends on what you heard from Mr. Hayes today.”

Ginny was straining now, trying her best to hear what her father’s response would be. She needed to know what Spencer’s father had told him more than she’d ever needed to know anything before in her entire life.

“… not promising…. another ship a few days ago… won’t know for at least three more weeks unless… happens by some sort of wreckage…”

Her mother’s voice was a harsh whisper, but she was able to make it out. “Is that what they think?”

“’Fraid so…” was the response.

Ginny felt nauseated again, and putting her arm against her stomach, she willed back the bile rising in her throat. How could they even suggest such a thing? How could Spencer’s parents think for one moment that the Mary Ann had wrecked? And—if that had been the case—were they sending out every ship in their fleet to try and find Spencer? He had to be somewhere. There was no way that he…. With that final thought, she dove for the large bowl her mother had set on the nightstand next to her bed earlier that morning and emptied the contents of her stomach. There was little available, and after the initial ejection, she began to dry heave.

Her parents, hearing the commotion, hurried into her room. “Genevieve!” her mother called, rushing to her side. “Are you all right?” She had her hand on her daughter’s back and pulled a few strands of auburn hair away from her face.

Ginny couldn’t answer just yet, but once she was certain she had finished, for the moment, she sat down on the edge of her bed. Her mother handed her a cloth to wipe her mouth and then a glass of water, which she used to rinse her mouth, spitting the contents into the bowl with the other refuse.

Her father, who had quite a weak stomach himself, hung back by the door, but called, “I’m so sorry, darling. I had hoped the medicine would make you feel better.”

Shaking her head, Ginny managed to say, “It doesn’t. It makes me feel… foggy. And tired. I don’t like it.”

“Well, you must keep taking it,” her mother insisted. “It’s the only way to calm your stomach.”

“But it doesn’t calm my stomach,” Ginny insisted, gesturing at the bowl.

One of the two servant girls the family employed, Julia, entered the room and came to collect the bowl. “I will bring another, just in case, miss,” she said quietly as she gave Ginny a sympathetic smile.

Ginny nodded her thanks and then returned her attention to her parents. Her mother was already preparing another dose of her prescription. “Genevieve, the doctor insisted this is for the best. Now, don’t be disagreeable, child.” She offered the spoon, and Ginny looked from her mother to her father, who stood with his arms crossed in the doorway, before she finally consented and swallowed the liquid.

“That’s a good girl,” Joseph Cawley said with a nod.

Ginny felt as if she were a small child again and wanted to protest being treated as such, but she didn’t feel now was an appropriate time. “What did you hear from Mr. Hayes?” she asked, slinking back into the bed.

Joseph glanced at his wife who gave him a sharp look before he said, “Nothing, honestly. Just that they were continuing to await word from the Mary Ann. He has sent another shipment, and the captain will run the same course, looking for…”

Her mother made a clicking noise with her tongue, causing him to pause.

“For the Mary Ann.”

Ginny glanced at her mother and then back to her father. “Do they think she was lost?” she asked quietly.

“Do they think she was lost or she is lost?” he clarified.

Ginny supposed he may be stalling. “Do they suppose the ship has wrecked, Father?”

“No, of course not,” her mother replied, setting the laudanum back on the night stand.

“Then where is she?” Ginny asked, daring her to continue with her untruth.

“They think something is just taking a bit longer than normal.”

“Like what? The Atlantic isn’t getting any larger, is it?” she implored.

“Genevieve, there’s no need to be snide,” her mother said sternly. “They are not sure what has happened, but they are confident the Mary Ann—and Spencer—will be located soon.”

“Is that true, Father?”

Joseph Cawley’s face said everything to his daughter, and even though he was having difficulty formulating a response, he really didn’t need to say anything after a few moments of forlorn silence. Just as Ginny was about to open her mouth to ask again, he finally managed, “No, Genevieve,” and despite a huff from his wife, who clearly wanted to continue with stories to protect what could only be considered a fragile mind, he stepped forward and said, “They do not know for sure, darling, but there’s reason to believe the Mary Ann may have run aground near the Antilles.”

The world stopped spinning for a few moments as Ginny processed what her father was saying. When it lurched forward again, so did her stomach, and it was all she could do to keep from retching once more. But she managed to control herself, momentarily. “What are they doing to find them?”

Again, he held her gaze for a long while before replying, “They will search the area.”

“And they will find survivors. And Spencer will be among them,” she said, speaking to herself aloud as her eyes dropped from her father to a spot on the blanket covering her legs.

“God willing,” her father nodded.

“When will they return?” she asked, her eyes darting up to his face again.

Joseph pondered the question for a moment before saying, “Mr. Hayes has sent his fastest ship with no cargo. It left ten days ago. It should be back by the end of next week. If it meets another vessel on the return, we could know something more quickly.”

“But you said three weeks earlier,” Clara said, now staring at him almost as harshly as their daughter.

“Three weeks for certain. I didn’t want to tell you about the other ship because…” he paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, “because I didn’t want you to know how urgent the situation is or that we may know sooner. But, honestly, Genevieve, Mr. and Mrs. Hayes have reason to believe there is not much to hope for.”

Ginny shot out of bed then, causing her mother to initially jump back, but then to reach forward to steady her. “Reason to believe? Reason to believe… what? Why is there reason to believe there’s not much to hope for?”

Joseph’s eyes dropped to the ground. Both of them were staring at him so intently. Eventually, he managed, “There were storms in the area. It’s possible…. Of course, anything is possible. But then, there were some reports of wreckage—possible wreckage—drifting ashore in some of the occupied islands. There are just so many reefs and so many uncharted islands. If it was dark, and the waves had pushed them off course….”

“No!” Ginny yelled. “No, Father. That’s not possible. And I won’t believe it. Don’t you stand there and tell me that you think Spencer is dead—because he isn’t. He promised! He promised he’d return!” She was flailing her arms now, struggling against her mother who was trying haplessly to contain her, and it took the strength of her father to subdue her and push her back into the bed.

“Genevieve! Calm down!” he insisted. “This is precisely why I didn’t want to tell you. Now, hush, or else I will not give you any more information!”

She wasn’t with him, though, not now. She was sobbing, her entire body shaking, and even with the weight of her father’s hands pressing down on her, she still continued to convulse, all the while screaming for her husband at the top of her lungs.

“When will this medicine begin to have an effect?” Joseph asked as he fought to restrain her.

“I don’t know,” Clara admitted, crying behind him.

The noise brought both of the house servants and Jacob, who ran to the other side of the bed, grabbing hold of his sister’s arms as his father held her shoulders. “Ginny!” he said gently. “Ginny! Calm down. It’s all right! It’s all right!”

She looked up and saw his face and almost instantly began to calm down. “Jacob!” she said between sobs. “Do you know… what they said… about Spencer?”

“It’s all right, Ginny,” he said, shushing her. “I just heard. Spencer will be back soon. Calm down.”

“What’s that?” Ginny asked, her eyes wide. “You did?”

“Yes, when I was downtown this afternoon. You’ll see. He’ll be back soon. Now, calm down. You wouldn’t want him to find you in such a state, now would you?”

“He’s coming back?”

“Yes.”

“Soon?”

“Yes, of course.”

She took a deep breath, and suddenly, she felt extremely tired. Leaning back against the pillows, she felt the release of her father’s hands and then the gentle touch of her brother as he stroked her cheek. Thoughts of Spencer filled her mind as she began to drift off to sleep.

Joseph wrapped his arms around his wife who was attempting to control her tears. Once he was sure Genevieve could no longer hear them, he said quietly, “I should never have told her the truth.”

“What are we going to do?” Clara asked, her voice muffled by her husband’s shoulder.

Jacob stood and crossed to the end of the bed. “We have to protect her, at least until we know for sure.”

“And what then?” Clara asked, looking up at her son.

“I’m not certain,” Jacob admitted. “But we will have to find a solution. Because I think we all know by now that Spencer Hayes is not coming back.”