Seven
The engine on Mercys new train was called Virginia Lightning . Its hand-painted letters had caught her eye as she boarded the first car in the line, standing out in green and white against the matte black body of the engine. Shed be traveling in the first class compartment, for all that she hadnt the money to afford it. But it was either that, the colored car, or nothing at all-or so shed been informed at the ticket counter. It had been dumb luck that assigned her to the Pullman; a pair of ragged soldiers had tottered along, and one of them recognized her as the woman whod done her best to save the colonel, who still clung to life somewhere, en route to either a proper hospital or a Christian burial. Between them, the two gray-clad boys had rustled through their pockets and pulled out enough money to grant the nurse the upgrade, against her feeble protests.
So she was to ride in the fancy Pullman car, all the way to Memphis.
From her semi-comfortable seat in the passenger car, Mercy had witnessed half a dozen tearful partings and one or two solemn good-byes. They reminded her of a man shed once lovingly seen off to war. She shuddered at the thought of her dream, and closed her eyes when it was too much, trying to remember other things, without much success.
It had been so long since shed seen Phillip, and now she wouldnt see him again. That ought to make his face, or the sound of his voice, more precious to her mind, but strangely, this wasnt so. What was left in his absence was an empty, sorrowful discomfort. She wondered if it wouldnt eventually grow dull or dim if she worried at it enough, or softened and more palatable. Easier to overlook. Forgotten, or at least smoothed into some pearl-like blandness, if not a thing of beauty.
She looked around her car, which was laden with comfortably middle-class women of many shapes and ages, plus a few surly children whod had the seriousness of the occasion impressed upon them until they grudgingly held their tongues.
The first two hours on the track between Fort Chattanooga and Memphis passed dully, with all the passengers acting docile and blank, waiting for their destination, and counting on precious little entertainment in the interim. But in the third hour, Mercy was startled by a tap on her shoulder. When she turned around, she gazed up into the face of a mulatto woman, perhaps forty years old or a little more.
She was dressed in clothing nicer than anything Mercy had ever personally owned, and she smelled faintly of gardenias, or some perfume derived therefrom. Her hair had been braided up and back, and a hat was perched on it with such firmness that the nurse doubted she couldve knocked it loose with a stick.
Pardon me, said the woman. I dont mean to bother you, but I was wondering if you were a nurse. I saw the cloak, and your bag, there.
Yes, Im a nurse.
From the fields?
Not on purpose, Mercy said. But I been in the fields, just the other night.
The train gave a shrug as it changed its velocity to climb a low grade. The woman shrugged with it and asked, Could I sit here, just a moment?
Mercy said, I dont see why
not, even though she was pretty sure that plenty of other people in the car could think of a few good reasons. Most of the other women in the car shifted or adjusted their luggage, and either pretended not to look, or made a point of looking. Still, Mercy gestured to the empty seat on the aisle.
But the woman kept standing, and said, My names Agatha Hyde, and Im on my way to Memphis to meet my brother. My son-hes in the next car back-he was tomfooling around this morning as we were getting ready to leave, and Im afraid he might have broken his foot falling down the stairs. We wrapped him up and headed out because we had a train to catch, same as everyone on board here; but he wont stop crying about it, and it seems like its swelling up something awful. I was hoping, maybe, that I could ask you if youd take a look at it.
Mrs. . . . Mrs. Hyde, Mercy said, Im not a doctor or anything, and-
I can pay you, she said quickly. I can appreciate the position Im putting you in, here like this, but my boys only a little thing, and Id hate for him to grow up lame because I didnt know how to fix his bones and we couldnt find a colored doctor till Memphis.
Mercy opened her mouth to say something about how it wasnt about the money, but the money did in fact make it easier for her to say, I suppose I could take a look. I cant make you any promises, though.
Someone to the rear of the car said, Honestly, under her breath, but no one else said a word as Mercy collected her bag and followed the older woman back into the next car.
The next car back was emptier than Mercys. Most of the people in it had skin in shades varying from toffee to ink, and there was a greater spread of passengers represented, from working class to leisure class. Again, she mostly saw women and children; but a few old men gathered at the back, playing chess on a board they balanced on the seat between them. Everyone gazed at her curiously. Mercy stiffened, but said, Hello.