As Mr. Bricker drove the Model T Ford over the cobblestone streets amidst the drizzling summer rain, Corrie clutched her hat to her head with one hand and pulled Christina closer to her with the other. With every bump in the road, Christina jolted and fell into fits of coughing. Betwixt the rain, humidity, and rattle of the Model T, Corrie was counting down the moments until they arrived at the train station.
"Here we are, girls," Mr. Bricker announced, pulling them next to the awaiting train.
Dr. Benjamin, Hannah, and Jack were waiting for them, their luggage already loaded, and Mr. Bricker passed Christina to Dr. Benjamin who carried her to the sleeper car in which they had rented her a bed for the trip to Richmond. The journey to Richmond would take at least six hours, so the doctor had thought it best to provide her with a place to lie down during their journey.
As Corrie boarded the train and settled into one of the passenger cars adjacent to the sleeper car, she was unable to stifle her worry as she watched Dr. Benjamin deposit a sagging Christina into the bed. The doctor slid next to Hannah at the booth the four of them shared, and the only sound was the distant chatter of their few companions in the passenger car and the rattling of the rain against the train windows.
Hannah pulled out a copy of The New York Times, and Corrie cringed at the violent photo on the front page of men's bodies strewn across desolate, ravaged land. No wonder Christina was so haunted by what she'd read and heard about the war; how much worse it must be knowing that her beloved was being sent to a field much like that one. Corrie leaned against the window frame and let her eyes wander the soggy scenery as it blended into a watercolor of greens and browns through the rain-soaked window.
As the miles passed, the train stopped and started, allowing passengers to board and leave, and still Corrie looked out the window. If she were honest with herself, Corrie realized that Christina carried a far heavier weight than she. Christina's beloved, the man she wished to marry if they were granted a future after all of this madness, was thousands of miles away, preparing to fight in the trenches for king and country. Corrie could not fathom the unimaginable worry that Christina must carry on her shoulders every hour. It was hardly any wonder that her spirit was failing as readily as her body.
Corrie excused herself from the table, brushing past her Aunt Jack who was skimming a colorful book on bird types. Corrie pulled open the sliding door to the sleeper car and approached her sister's bed, steadying herself with a hand on the opposite bed.
Christina's face was turned towards the window and the mixture of rain and overcast light painted eerie shadows across her pallid skin. She had managed to kick off the blankets covering her, so Corrie tucked her back in, gently situating the blankets about her shoulders. Heat radiated from her feverish figure. As Corrie moved one of Christina's arms, she noticed a piece of paper clutched in one hand. Corrie pried Christina's fingers apart and pulled the paper loose.
Corrie straightened the paper to refold it, and her eyes caught on the first line.
Dear Christina,
I miss you with every breath. I regret leaving you with every heartbeat. Your letters give me life in the midst of so much death.
When Corrie realized what she was reading, she checked the signature--David Marshall--and folded the letter back up, slipping it into Christina's carpetbag. For all the love poems and declarations Corrie had read, she found that David's simple words portrayed more emotion than Corrie had ever felt in her life.
Long ago, Corrie had decided that she wouldn't spend her life searching for that magical, elusive myth called love; she would find someone faithful and respectful, and that would be enough. However, seeing Christina's devotion to David and his apparent affection for her, Corrie wondered if she'd been wrong to forsake love. Was it too late for her?
The door behind her slid open, and she turned to see Dr. Benjamin with his medical kit, ducking because the ceiling of the train was too low for his gangly height.
"Miss Walker, I'm so sorry to disturb you. I didn't realize you were here," he said, remaining at the door.
"It's no problem. I was just sitting with Christina. Thinking. I suppose you've come to check on her?" Corrie asked, sidestepping to let the doctor pass her in the narrow hallway.
"Yes," he said, using his stethoscope to listen to her breathing at several locations across her chest. "I'm just making sure her condition hasn't changed."
Dr. Benjamin said nothing else, and Corrie felt the silence swell between them; where once had been comfortable camaraderie, Corrie had erected a wall when she had panicked and fled from him two nights ago. Corrie watched the doctor's careful ministrations, the way his long fingers gracefully felt Christina's neck for her pulse and listened to her breathing. Dr. Benjamin had an innate thoughtfulness that Corrie rarely saw in young men of her generation; most young men were rowdy and boisterous, arrogantly boasting of their miscreant adventures. Dr. Benjamin, however, spoke rarely, and when he did, his words were carefully chosen.
When he finished checking on Christina, Corrie followed him back to the passenger car and took her seat next to Aunt Jack who was now teaching Hannah how to play poker. Corrie smiled wryly at the behavior of their supposed chaperone.
"Miss Walker, I've brought a few extra books of poetry along, thinking you may wish for entertainment in the long days to come," Dr. Benjamin murmured, pushing an opened book across the table towards her. "Christina Rossetti. Have you read her work?"
Corrie glanced at his kind eyes and accepted the book. "I haven't."
"This poem is one of my favorites," he said, with a short sigh, chewing on his lower lip.
Corrie barely caught his expression before glancing at the poem, entitled "A Pause of Thought."
I looked for that which is not, nor can be,
And hope deferred made my heart sick in truth.
Corrie read the first line and felt heat instantly rise to her face. Could she have misinterpreted his intentions? Were the words directed at her? Was this some sort of declaration of admiration via the medium they both loved? Corrie struggled to keep her eyes on the page, and she scanned the rest of the poem absently as her heart skittered to and fro. If this was the doctor's admission of feelings, the poem spoke the truth: They could never be. Corrie's courtship was moving towards engagement, and she would not live in Irvington forever.
For the next few hours, Corrie kept her eyes stubbornly fastened either on the world passing outside the window or the poetry book before her. She was afraid that if she looked at the doctor now, her emotions would undermine her intentions. The only way to suppress these emotions was to starve herself of even the sight of him.
~~~~~
"Taxi!" Dr. Benjamin called, stepping out into the rainy streets of Richmond and waving a hand in the air.
Corrie kept her eyes on the stream of water running down the sidewalk and tracing the shape of her boot as a taxicab pulled to the side of the road by the train station. A few minutes later, they traveled in two taxicabs towards the home of Dr. Benjamin's colleague, Dr. Howard. When Dr. Benjamin sent him a telegram explaining Christina's situation, he had agreed to care for Christina and host them for a week or two as a personal favor. It was no surprise to Corrie that Dr. Benjamin curried favor with everyone he encountered.
Corrie held Christina against her chest as the taxi rolled through the streets of Richmond, rain still pounding the windows despite the pressing summer heat. Dr. Howard's home was a two story brick house on a stately, well-to-do street in Richmond. They exited the taxicabs and huddled under the porch, Christina propped between Corrie and Hannah as water ran in rivulets from Corrie's hat to her hair and face. Dr. Benjamin knocked on the door, and when it opened, a petite woman answered the door, a smile on her wide, rosy face.
"You must be Alexander! My husband has talked so much about you," the woman exclaimed, grabbing Dr. Benjamin by the arm and pulling him inside. "And this must be the young lady," she tsked at Christina. "Don't worry, we'll get you feeling better in no time, dear."
Mrs. Howard escorted Christina to a single bed in a small room with a window letting in the bleary, rain-stained light. Corrie watched Christina release a wracking cough and fall back into the bed with a sigh, her eyes instantly closing. Lying on the bed lifeless, she looked like a child lost in a sea of pain. Corrie was afraid no one would be able to rescue her from drowning in it.
~~~~~
So what do you think? Was Dr. Benjamin trying to tell her how he feels? How the heck does he feel? I think it's pretty hilarious she's trying to stop herself from caring for him...while they're stranded in Richmond together. Good luck trying to avoid him, Corrie.
Thanks so much for getting Sharing Corrie to over 600 views! I appreciate your reads and votes and comments. This story always makes me smile, and I promise to bring lots of drama in the coming chapters.
The update schedule is going to change to M/W as I have a new story coming soon! Thanks again.
~ Hannah