Thomas Tryon - The Night of the Moonbow

“What does it mean?” he asked Wanda, who put on her glasses for a closer examination.

“It means I think we’ll consult the doc.” Unfortunately, this did not mean Doc Oliphant, who night before last had turned the dispensary keys over to Wanda and driven to Hartford, thence to New York, for a medical conference. In the event of an emergency, she was instructed to seek out old Dr Malcolm over at Woking Corners, and this she now proceeded to do, using the office telephone. The doctor obligingly drove over and examined Tiger’s leg, pronouncing him a fine fellow but allowing as how they might do well to keep him in the infirmary a day or so, until the “local low-grade infection” was cleared up. To “take the strain off,” a Rube Goldberg harness was rigged up with ropes and pulleys and a window-sash weight that kept the patient’s leg hoisted into the air, and a prescription was written for the new sulfanilamide drug.

All afternoon Wanda’s latest charge garnered numbers of visitors who sat jawing with him and joking about his “torture-chamber rig.” Not only did the Jeremians come trooping into the room with Reece, at their head, but other campers from up and down the line-path paid duty visits, including Peewee, whose rambunctiousness became so annoying that Wanda banished him from indoors and he had to resort to standing on a box with his head inside the sickroom window. Even Pa took time out from his birding to pass by for an encouraging ^yord, while Hank Ives delivered Ma and Willa-Sue by jitney for a get-together. (Ma had baked brownies for general consumption, which she brought packed in a candy box.)

Only Leo stayed away, watching the procession to and from the infirmary with a heavy heart. Already he was being blamed for Tiger’s predicament, and though he was sure the spider’s bite had not been poisonous, there was no doubt that it was Leo who had put Friend-Indeed’s star camper in a position to be bitten in the first place. His anguish over this fact was compounded by his quarrel with Tiger. With each day that had passed since their foolish argument Leo had looked for a way to make it up with his friend, to have things as they had been before, had tried and had failed. But now… now he must get in to see Tiger and explain, apologize, he must. Around and around his thoughts went and still there was no resolution. Then, during powwow that evening, as the conversation turned to the upcoming glee-club concert, the answer came to him, and after supper he took his violin and crept up to the sickroom window, where he settled himself against the wall and began playing, listening for some reaction from inside. It came almost on cue, the mirthful sputter that said Tiger was getting it. l. eo beamed. Nurse Koslowski, however, didn’t find it so amusing. Leo had just reached the release when her reproachful features appeared in the window.

“Okay, wise-apple, what’s the big idea?” she demanded, poking her head out at him. “You think this is an amusement park or something?”

Leo grinned and shrugged. “I was just playing.”

“What kind of song is that, anyway?”

“ ‘The Music Goes ’Round and Around.’ Tiger likes it.”

“If he does, he’s the only one. Now suppose you just nut that harp away for a while and get your baganza inside here.”

“How’s he doing?” asked Leo as he came around the porch and up the steps.

“He’ll live. Go ahead in, he’ll be glad to see you.” Behind the screen that helped close off the doorway to the sickroom, Tiger lay in his white hospital bed, his leg hiked as if from a skiing accident.

“Hi,” Leo said.

“Hi yourself.”

“How’re you doing?”

“Okay. How about you?”

“Me? I’m fine.”

“Well, don’t just stand there, come on it.”

Leo sat in the chair, maintaining a discreet distance. “What brings you down this way?” Tiger asked.

“I was – that is – I wanted to see how you were coming along. If it weren’t for my spider you wouldn’t be here.” “Don’t give it a thought. It’s not your fault. I’m glad to see you.”

“You are?”

“Yup. Real glad. We’re some pair, you and me. Acting like two dumb-bells.”

Leo dropped his gaze. “You were right. I’ve been acting like a jerk. And I’m sorry I called you that name.”

“I don’t think I’ll die because of it. Let’s just forget it ever happened.” Tiger held out his hand. “Shake?”

Leo held out his. “Shake.”

“Your playing was really neat,” Tiger went on.

“Glad you liked it.”

“How’s Harpo? I miss him.”

“He’s okay – he misses you, too. He’s really been dogging it since you haven’t been around.”

Tiger laughed at Leo’s pun. “Listen,” he said, lowering his voice. “I was wondering. Do you think you could bring him down here so I could see him?”

Leo lowered his voice too. “Would Wanda let you have a dog in here? He’s liable to have germs and stuff.” “Maybe you could fix it for when she’s not around.”

“I heard that, Tiger Abernathy!”

A stern-faced Nurse Koslowski stood in the doorway. “ ‘When she’s not around,’ what? What plots are you two brigands hatching?”

“He wants to see Harpo,” Leo explained.

“Oh no you don’t, not that flea-bitten hound; not in my infirmary. Is that completely understood?”

“Yes, m’am,” replied Leo.

“Aw, Wanda-”

“Never mind the ‘Aw, Wanda’s,’ Abernathy. Just remember. And for your information, Leo, visiting hours are just about fini’d, so suppose you trot on out of here while our boy gets some sleep.”

Leo adjusted his position, then glanced up at her. “I was wondering – could we read a little?”

“Reading, huh? Okay, go ahead. I’ll sneak a smoke on the porch. But keep it down in here, or I’ll have to toss you out on your baganza.” Her uniform rattled as she turned down the radio, then left the room, her rubber soles squeaking on the painted floor.

Leo pulled his chair closer to the bed and took out several books from his knapsack. Tiger’s choice was “Horatius at the Bridge,” and so Leo began with the tale of “The Captain of the Gate,” set with two stalwart companions to defend the bridge to Rome until the span could be destroyed and the city made safe. He read the hero’s credo:

“To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late.

And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds,

For the ashes of his fathers,

And the temples of his Gods…” and he read how, in those days,

… none was for a party;

Then all were for the state;

Then the great man helped the poor,

And the poor man loved the great:

Then lands were fairly portioned;

Then spoils were fairly sold:

The Romans were like brothers In the brave days of old.

He read until a figure in white appeared in the doorway. Finger to her lips, Wanda signaled Leo to leave.

“Don’t stop,” Tiger murmured. “I’m not asleep.”

“If you’re not, you’re giving a darned good imitation of it,” the nurse replied. “Doctor wants you to rest.”

“But I want to hear the end.”

“Next time. Pretend it’s a cliffhanger. Like Pearl White and that stuff.”

“Tomorrow?” Tiger asked.

Wanda blew out her cheeks. “I suppose – only no dogs, got it?”

“In the infirmary, right?”

“In the infirmary, right.”

“Okay, kiddo.”

Leo went away whistling “The Monkey Wrapped His Tail Around the Flagpole.”

Next day, when Leo looked in at the infirmary window, he found the patient entertaining a pair of visitors whose presence both surprised and pleased him. Seated on chairs brought in from the other rooms were Honey Oliphant, returned at last to Moonbow late the night before, and her Cape Cod friend, Sally Berwick. Also attending the invalid were the Bomber and Emerson Bean, along with Dusty Rhoades and Junior Leffingwell. The Bomber had just got off one of his corny jokes and everyone groaned when an alert-looking, hairy head appeared in the open window.