Page 84 - Fever 1793

“Joseph?” Eliza called sharply. “Joseph, what ails you? Are you feverish again? Are you chilled?”
Joseph raised his face to look at his sister. Tears coursed down his cheeks. He couldn’t bring himself to speak.
Eliza grabbed his shoulders and shook him.
“What happened?” she shouted. “Where is Robert? Where are William and Nell?”
Joseph wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. I stepped back from the sadness in his face; it
filled the room and threatened to pull me in. He pointed to the bedchamber.
The twins lay next to each other on the bed, their eyes closed. They panted heavily as if they had just
come in from a romp outside. Nell lay on her pallet on the floor. She was feverish, but slept soundly. “Oh, sweet Jesus, not these little boys!” cried Eliza. “Open that window farther, Mattie. We need
some air in here.”
“It’s already open all the way,” I answered.
“It can’t be,” Eliza snapped. “It’s hot enough to roast a duck in here.”
She shouldered me aside and pushed up the sash herself. It would go no farther.
“Do you want me to boil water?” I asked.
“Yes. No!” Eliza spun so that her skirts flared, and clenched her fists against her head. “We can’t have
a fire in here. The boys won’t be able to breathe if it gets any hotter. Dear God, why take these children? I promised I wouldn’t let them die.”
I stood in the doorway, not sure what to do next. Joseph hadn’t moved from his stool. Robert moaned and reached his arm out until he found William. Eliza sat down and stroked Robert’s forehead. She squeezed her eyes and covered her mouth as she struggled to control her anguish.
“It’s cooler up at Bush Hill,” I said.
“They don’t have room,” Eliza said fiercely.
“But it’s cooler there,” I repeated. “The rooms have many windows that catch the wind. It’s clean, and
they have French physicians.”
Eliza shook her head. “We have to do it ourselves. We will find a way to make them well again.”
I looked across the small room. The sound of the river came through the tiny window, along with a
distant echo of voices. Windows, I thought. Windows and empty rooms, away from the river, away from the worst heat.
“The coffeehouse,” I cried. “Eliza, we’ll take them to the coffeehouse!”