CAPTAIN OF HIS SOUL
By Marcher
gama39@austarmetro.com.au
PG13
CHAPTER 3 ~ The Joy Of Old Friends Who Know You So
Well
Rick stirred and groaned at the light streaming through the window. He
layed his arm across his eyes, shielding them from the burning brightness of
morning and complained aloud. No answer. Not even the sound of his
wife's characteristic groan. He lifted his arm just enough and peered
about the empty bedroom. Alex was not in his crib, there was no
sign of Evelyn and the door was firmly shut. O'Connell grumbled under his
breath at the thought of having to fetch her from the Museum again. Why
was she so damned stubborn and single minded? If Alex had been left in
the care of his crippled uncle, he swore he would tie her to the bed until this
baby was born!
He rose from the bed and awkwardly made his way to the window, blocking the sun
with one hand and tugged the curtain closed with the other. Another of
her traits, to fling open the window coverings instantly upon waking.
These early morning displays of sunshine were too reminiscent of the Legion for
him but it was, after all, Evelyn. Gradually, her hushed voice
began to filter through to his senses and he smiled, somewhat relieved.
She was in the next room with Jonathan. A touch of guilt crossed his
features for jumping to conclusions and he promised himself to go easy and curb
his arbitrary attitude, at least where she was concerned.
Any ideas of a peaceful morning were shattered when he opened the bedroom door
to find his wife pale and agitated, pacing the room and biting the end of her
thumb. On spying him, she released a hasty barrage of information
regarding Jonathan, most of which sailed right past him. He had just
woken from a whisky induced sleep and, if he dared admit it to himself,
his head was hosting a dull ache. However, Evelyn's worry appeared to be
in earnest and she wasn't looking well. Placing an arm around her
shoulder and a finger to her lips he encouraged her to start from the
beginning.
She deliberately removed his hand from her face, watching it all the way until
it rested by his side, then returned her gaze to his and snapped, "There's
no time for that! Haven't you been listening?"
He looked over at his recumbent brother-in-law and shrugged. "Yeah,
Jonathan. Still sleeping it off."
Evelyn stepped out of her husband's arm and fussed over her brother with a damp
cloth. "He's passed out, Rick! Unconscious! Burning with
fever!"
Rick's brow furrowed slightly as he looked from Evelyn to Jonathan. To
him, Jonathan looked much the same as he always did after a night on the
booze. The only difference today being the plaster cast on his leg.
"You sure?" He stepped over for a closer inspection of his
brother-in-law.
"Of course I'm sure! I've just sent word for a doctor to be brought
to him!"
Rick looked up at his wife, then again at Jonathan, leaning over slightly to
place the palm of his hand against his forehead. She was right!
Overnight, Jonathan had developed one hell of a fever and was as white as a
sheet. He ran a hand along Jonathan's cast and idly suggested that the
wound must be infected.
Evelyn almost shouted at his imperturbable attitude, "This is serious,
Rick! He could die from such a high fever!"
"Hey, hey." O'Connell was caught off guard by her hysterics and
stepped towards her, placing an arm around her shoulder and inviting her to sit.
She had worked herself into a state where tears threatened to cascade and he
found himself once again dealing with the sibling devotion which had always
been alien to him. The connection between brother and sister was
something that he was still only in the beginnings of understanding. He
sat beside her and gently pulled her towards him, "Sshh, he'll be alright
Sweetheart. He won't die of a broken leg." Evelyn began to complain
along the lines of her husband completely missing the urgency of the situation
when a knock at the door stole their attention. "See. Calvary's
arrived." He stood to open the door, but noticed the look in her eye
which suggested he needed to take a more serious approach to the matter,
or perhaps even get dressed. He glanced down at his attire which had
doubled as sleepwear and reluctantly retreated to the bedroom, allowing his
wife to greet the doctor.
As he changed, Rick could hear ample concerned comments and questioning from
Evelyn accompanied by the busy rustling of medical equipment as it was pulled
from what he could only imagine as a worn, but sturdy black bag. A wicked
grin crept over his lips as he pictured the doctor unable to get a word
in. He rejoined his wife once he had shaved and was pleasantly surprised
to lay eyes on an old friend. "Ross!?"
Both Evelyn and the doctor turned their attention to him and the middle-aged
man rose to meet O'Connell with a firm handshake and a hearty laugh
befitting his age and build. Evelyn watched curiously as the two greeted
each other in the manner that old friends do. This was one of the few
times she had known Rick to welcome someone so wholly and hesitated before she
spoke. However, Jonathan was still her priority at the moment which led
her to courteously interupt, "You two are certainly well
aquainted."
"Sorry Evie." O'Connell placed a firm and friendly hand on the
doctor's shoulder and introduced him. "Ross Campbell, this is my
wife, Evelyn."
She smiled, "Yes. We met at the door."
"Saved my life once." The American happily slapped his friend's
shoulder, "Best damned doctor I ever came across in the
Legion."
Campbell grunted self conciously before jesting in a thick Yorkshire accent,
"I wouldn't exactly call m'self a Legionnaire. It was more to be
fortune smiling on ya...and bleeding big inconvenience for me!"
O'Connell laughed knowingly as his friend returned his attention to Jonathan,
"Still, it's good to see you again, Ross."
"And you, my lad."
Jonathan's condition concerned the stout medic and he questioned the treatment
which had been administered. Evelyn explained everything from the impact
of the car to the absence of the regular Fort Surgeon. Where upon
they had to settle for his son who had confidently claimed to be a keen student
of his father's method and proceeded to treat her brother. Campbell
offered no noticable facial expression on hearing Evelyn's tale, he simply
clipped shut his case and stood. "The man needs to be taken to the
Infirmary." He pointed to Jonathan's injured leg, continuing his orders
without missing a beat. "That cast needs coming off! My guess
is there's a wound 'neath it needing a damn good sterilize!"
Evelyn rose nervously to her feet, fully intending to accompany her brother but
was taken aback by the doctor's forthright opinion of her condition, "And
you, Lass, look as though you need sleep, so be off to ya bed!"
As Evelyn opened her mouth in response to what she considered was a
supererogatory remark on Campbell's behalf, she was hampered by Rick's quick
intervention as he gently placed his hands on her shoulders and spoke calmly.
"Jonathan's in good hands,
trust me." His smile carried within it a plea for her to heed the
doctor's advice, then kissed the tip of her nose "I'll go with Ross.
Mind Alex, take it easy and I'll be back as soon as I can with all the
news."
At first, Evelyn betrayed a sense of doubt about the entire situation, but her
husband's unremitting gaze along with the mollified stroking of her arms
eventually brought her to agree with a hesitant sigh, "As long as you're
sure."
****
Placing Jonathan into the rear seat of Campbell's red Daimler was no easy
task. He was a dead weight and groaned amid his delirium as the two men
stood either side of the car and literally forced him inside. Rick
lifting him by the shoulders and heaving him, while Ross Campbell stood
roadside and dragged him in by the legs. Once they had him loaded onto
the leather seats, Rick slammed the door shut and leaned against the roof of
the car catching his breath. "You sure that was the best way of getting
him in there?"
Equally out of breath, Campbell replied exhibiting the same larrikin traits as
his younger companion and he laughed, "I doubt we could do any worse than
the car that hit 'im!" He wiped his brow, opening the door to the
driver's seat. "Besides which, I doubt very much that leg is
broken!"
Rick took a moment to run his hand appreciatively along the panels of the car
smiling at it's design, then settled himself into the passenger seat next to
his friend. Still admiring the dashboard, he absently looked at Campbell,
curious to know why he hadn't started the car. The Yorkshireman cocked
his head into the rear of the vehicle and suggested that O'Connell might take
the back seat in case the patient landed on the floor during the
trip! Rick sat motionless for a moment, then grumbled an
affirmation before heaving himself out of the front and into the back to watch
over Jonathan. "You said he's gonna be okay, right?"
"Oh aye, Yank. He'll live!"
****
It was with relief from both O'Connell and Dr.Campbell that they didn't need to
repeat their performance of head to toe when extracting Jonathan from the
car. Orderlies from the hospital were called into handle the patient,
however in truth, they applied a very similiar method. Rick cringed
a little when Jonathan's injured leg knocked against the car door and when he
was practically bounced into a wheelchair to the tune of Ross Campbell
bellowing for them to take care not to dismember the Englishman before actually
getting him inside the door. O'Connell scratched the back of his head and
thanked his lucky stars that his wife was absent at such a prestigious event at
the Cairo Hospital!
****
The time spent waiting for word on Jonathan seemed eternal as Rick paced the
shabby corridors. No waiting room was afforded for those family members
who kept vigil for the patients and his mind wandered to the events of the
previous day and his lost opportunity at collaring the Legionnaire which Evelyn
had identified. It occured to him that the camp was only about half a
mile from the hospital and any delay in his return to the Fort could be
explained away as waiting for news on Jonathan. The idea appealed nicely
to him, however he had left with Campbell this morning without his guns and he
weighed the situation in his mind. It would only be a matter of days before the
Regiment moved out again and he couldn't see another possibilty of slipping
away from Evelyn under guise presenting itself again anytime soon, so his
decision was a natural one. He would seize the chance while he had it.
A door opened and closed behind him and the former soldier turned to see his
doctor friend approaching with the most satisfied of expressions stretched
across his face. His brown eyes beamed in the jolly fashion which was
typical of him and Campbell announced his success with a clap and vigorous hand
rubbing. "I was right, y'know. No broken bones and a severely
infected gash down the leg. I'll tell ya, these backward places can kill
a man as soon as look at 'im."
"So why put a cast on a leg that's not broken?"
"Overkill, m'boy. If it looks efficient, the idea's that it probably
is."
"You planning on keeping him in here for a while?"
"Nah. You can take 'im home."
Rick inhaled anxiously and rubbed his chin. He had at least planned
on Jonathan being admitted overnight which would give him an alibi for his
intended detour. Ross took in the effect his announcement had cast over
the younger man and suggested an alternative. "Well it isn't
critical, but I suppose I could keep an eye over him overnight just t'make
sure." He watched O'Connell's immediate change in manner and the
doctor narrowed his eyes. "You're not planning on foolin' around
behind that pretty one's back, are ya?"
Rick was startled out of his thoughts, "No! No, of course not!"
"Aye. I've spent enough time with lads like y'self and I know what
ye's get up to. I was a lad meself once." Campbell's look was so
knowing it irritated the American, which drew a smirk from the doctor.
"Ya forgetting how well I know ya, O'Connell."
Rick took a step back, half spinning around, then faced his friend once again
with an equally mischievous grin. "Yeah, yeah! Alright. Look,
I've just got some business to attend to which is kinda delicate and won't go
down too well at home, you know?
"Well so long as it doesn't see ya turning up on my operating table again,
mum's the word...and I'll keep an eye on ya crippled mate in there."
O'Connell winked in thanks, patting his friend on the back as he stepped away
and made his way onto the heated streets.