Spice Box
“No indeed. And remember, you are an invalid yet yourself.”
So it was all arranged for Martha to go up with Mr. Roberts in the morning.
Martha was awake and astir very early the next morning. The sea had put on its sweetest calm, with no hint of the angry tempest that had raged in its waves yesterday.
When she was all ready for her journey, she slipped softly to Ronald’s room and listened outside his door.
To her surprise she heard footsteps thumping around the room, and when she tapped at the door, the boy’s voice bade her come in. And there was Ronald fully dressed in all but his coat, and struggling with his necktie. Somehow he had accomplished the feat of drawing his shirtsleeve over the broken arm, bandages and all, and was standing in front of the mirror, one end of his necktie in his teeth, doing wonders with the well hand in knotting the other end. He was pale but resolute.
“Ronald! Child! You ought not to be out of bed,” cried his visitor, aghast.
“This doggone tie won’t get right,” he complained.
“Sit down and let me fix it for you,” she said gently, as one would lure a little child away from danger.
The boy approached her warily. He was white but determined, scarcely a fit subject for feminine petting.
“Now, Ronald,” said Martha determinedly, “you know the doctor said you would get along nicely if you would rest a few days, but you’ve been under a severe strain—”
“Aw, rats! Strain nothing!” interpolated Ronald contemptuously. “Just a little knockout. That wasn’t nothing. I’ve been hurt worse a dozen times playing football. Say, could you just tie that shoe for me? I can’t make it tight. I gotta hustle. It’s almost train time.”
“But Ronald, you’re not going home today! I’ve got it all arranged. Mr. Roberts and I are going to the city, and I’ll explain to your mother so she won’t worry, and you are to stay down here all this week. Janice will help you with whatever you need. She’s a nurse, you know, and I’ll fix it all right with your mother. I’m sure she won’t worry.”
“Aw, gee!” said the boy, with a grin. “She won’t worry. This is the third time I’ve broken my arm. She’s used to it. And I ain’t going to stay down here, not on your tintype! What would be the good of staying down here? I can’t go swimming with this rag on my arm, can I? No ma’am, I’m going back. I got a lot to do.”
She laid her arm on his sound arm saying, “Ronald, be reasonable.” But he only laughed.
“What do you take me for?” he asked. “A baby with a rattle? It ain’t any use to nag. I gotta beat it. I got something to do today.”
At the breakfast table the other ladies tried their persuasions but all to no effect, and Martha realized that any further remonstrance was useless.
“I shall go with him, of course, and you will stay here with Mrs. Roberts and help her with her baby. Then she won’t be so tied down,” she said to Janice.
When they had almost reached the city, Ronald sidled into Martha’s seat with her.
“Say, Miss Spicer, don’t you go getting any men to move your things. I got some fellas that know how to do things like that. You just decide where you want them, and we’ll move everything in no time.”
She gave him a radiant smile.
“Thank you, Ronald, that’s fine. But you know you can’t lift a finger yourself. I won’t stand for that! But you could direct them of course. I’d hate to tell them to be careful, but you can, you know.”
“Okay!” said Ronald, relieved that he did not have to have an argument.
At the station, he rose and said, “Well, I gotta beat it if I wantta get my men. So long.” And he vanished in the crowd.
“Oh, he oughtn’t to,” said Martha, distressed.
“He’ll be all right,” said the architect in an easy tone. “He’s tough. You can’t kill him. He is no sissy.”
Arrived at her home, Martha changed into an old dress and gathered her cat into her arms, laying her cheek against the dirty fur lovingly. Ernestine had evidently missed her. It touched her to hear the pleasant satisfied rumble of her purring now.
Soon she was at work, with the cat following her from room to room. She made short work of gathering books, papers, magazines, the pictures on the walls, everything movable, and stacking them in piles to be carried upstairs. She sent to the store for a tack puller and hauled up the old carpets. They were not to go down again, so they didn’t have to come up carefully. How she hated their ugly, faded colors, and how glad she was to see them out of the way. Some could be sold, some given away, some thrown away. And with their going would vanish a lot of the gloom the house had held!
Ronald appeared a few minutes later with three tall boys, a little older than himself, nicknamed Lengthy, Lappie, and Pace. They were awkward and shy, but strong and willing. They carried out the old carpets to the yard, brushed them off, and rolled them up for further disposition. One of them possessed himself of a broom and mop and got the worst of the dust on the floors out of the way. They carried the piles of small things upstairs to a designated closet and then attacked the heavy furniture.
“Say, I was thinking,” said Ronald. “Why don’t you store all that stuff in the laundry? It’s clean and almost empty, and you could lock it. It would be out of the way and not have to be moved so far.”
So that is what they did.
And when the last piece was moved and the boys returned to the dismantled room, they found four large dishes of ice cream and four big wedges of chocolate cake from the nearby bakery set out on the kitchen table.
“Oh boy!” said Ronald. “Stick around fellas. Good eats! Some class!”
And while they were eating Martha watched them furtively and couldn’t find a trace in one of their faces of the old boy-character she used to hate. Could it be that all boys were different?
They accepted the generous pay Martha offered when they were done, and grinned, and one said, “Let us know when you get ready, and we’ll move ’em back for you.”
They had not been gone long when the workmen appeared with Architect Roberts at their head, and almost at once the house resounded with hammer blows as they put in braces and beams to reinforce the walls when the partitions came down.
And then in a little while they began to hack away at a partition. Martha hung around until that began, but there seemed something reproachful in the rending of nail from timber, the rattle of plaster as it fell, bringing down the hated old wallpaper with it, and Martha put on her hat and coat and went out to get some lunch at the bakery, while Ernestine fled to the cellar and wasn’t quite sure she was safe there, finally taking a seat on the back fence. Had everybody gone crazy, or was this the end of her world?
When Martha came back from her leisurely lunch, the hall and parlor yawned in one, and the back parlor was no more. She stood in amazement that so much destruction could be wrought in so short a time, and her soul triumphed in the thought that it was too late now to undo. She was embarked at last irrevocably for the changes, and Aunt Abigail and Uncle Jonathan needn’t come around and complain anymore.
The men were working late that night, as they had had to be so late in beginning and wanted to make up a whole day. So Martha ran in to see Mrs. McFarland and explain to her about Ronald’s heroism, for, of course, he never could be counted on to praise himself.
Mrs. MacFarland took her into her chilly dark front room and opened the blinds halfway. One could see the prim company chairs, and Martha entered, wondering if Ronald ever spent much time in this dreary room.
“I thought I ought to come and tell you what happened to Ronald and how wonderful he was in saving a little girl’s life,” she said as she sat down. “I’m so sorry he had to break his arm while he was under my care. But I suppose he has told you all about it.”
“No, he hasn’t told me nothing. He never does. Not unless he wants something. He’s awful closemouthed, Ronald is. He knows his pop would whip him if he found out half of his goings-on, so he never c
omplains. I see he had his arm done up so I s’posed he’d been up to something as usual, climbing a lighthouse or something. But I wouldn’t blame you. I’d know you couldn’t help it. If Ronald wanted to go somewhere he’d go, no matter who said not, so I never worry anymore. I got enough to do without that. Broke his arm, did he? Well, he likely deserved it. I hope there ain’t going to be a big doctor’s bill. His pop won’t stand for that, no matter how it happened. It’s awful expensive knocking around the way he does. It’s hard on his clo’es, too. Well, I’m glad he got the little girl out. It seems a pity for little children to drown when they ain’t had a chance at life, but mebbe they’re just as well off! I’m glad he saved the little girl’s life, but it would have been just like him to get drowned doing it. He came in awhile back and lay down on the couch. I s’pose his arm hurts him, but he knows better’n to let his pop know.”
Martha went back to her house a sadder and wiser woman. No wonder there were some bad boys in the world, if that was a sample of some of the houses they came from and how they were treated. Poor Ronald! No wonder he was interested in helping her make a cheery home!
The next two days were very exciting. There were so many questions to decide. Which way the stairs should turn and just where the windows should be located. The workmen seemed interested in all they did and gladly worked overtime that the plasterer might get started soon. It was hard to keep away from the scene of action, for she delighted to watch every nail that was driven and every board that was sawed. She wished she could take hold and help. It seemed fascinating to her.
Martha had talked with Janice by telephone every night and found that all was going well at the shore. It was doing all three of them good. Mrs. Roberts looked like a new woman, the baby was getting fat, and Janice said she felt better than she had for a year.
So Martha stayed on till Saturday and then asked Ronald to go back with her for over Sunday, for he was still rather pale and she knew he would get little sympathy at home if he stayed. He was working at the grocery store now, doing light work, earning a little money for himself, but he was happy to go back to the shore for over Sunday.
The doctor had come in for a few minutes and gone over Ronald, fixing him up with clean bandages and making him comfortable. Before he left he told them he was going to have to go away to a hospital himself pretty soon, perhaps within a very few days. He made rather light of it, said he was bringing a friend of his to take his place until they would let him come back on the job. He didn’t make much of his own ailments, just said there was something wrong that needed righting and it would mean taking a rest after the operation was over. But he said a great deal about the doctor who was taking over in his place. He told how they were in medical college together, told some amusing incidents of their young days and what a fine chap the other doctor was, until Ronald, watching grudgingly, almost felt he had to like him, although he wasn’t going to let him into the place in his heart that had hitherto been occupied by Dr. Blackwell. Ronald was very loyal to all first loves, and he thought there was no doctor in the world like the one he had first discovered, who had brought Baby Roberts and Janice back from life when they were practically dead.
Martha, as she watched the doctor talk, thought that now she understood the sadness that had seemed to be growing in the face of the kindly physician. He didn’t say how serious his trouble was; he spoke of it as a trifling ailment. But she wondered if there was danger that he might not be returning.
“Can’t you come down to the shore over Sunday?” she asked. “We’d love to have you as our guest, and you would certainly have at least three patients while you were there.”
“I’m afraid not,” said the doctor, with a smile. “I’ve just about all I can possibly do here before I go. Besides, I have two patients who are still very low, and I would not dare leave them till the other doctor gets here. But I certainly appreciate the invitation and shall think of it in the lonely days when I am in a hospital room by myself, recuperating, I hope.” And he smiled again, such an endearing smile. Martha couldn’t bear to think he was leaving them.
“But I’ve just been thanking God for you, Doctor,” she said, protesting. “I thought it was so wonderful that we had found you. Or rather, I thought it was so wonderful that God had sent such a fine doctor to just us.”
“Well, thank you,” said the doctor, much touched. “I am flattered that you thought of me that way. So perhaps I can presume to ask that you will wish me well in the experience I have to go through. God might help there, I have been led to suppose.”
“Oh!” said Martha, her cheeks turning pink, because she was always embarrassed when religious topics were mentioned. It seemed almost irreverent to talk about God in ordinary matters. “Why, yes. We’ll all pray for you. That you may get well and come back to us.”
“That’s great!” he said. “Good night, and God bless you.”
Chapter 15
The Roberts baby was getting fat and rosy. Its mother declared there was no longer any need for them to be at the shore, and besides, she felt she ought to be at home again and be watching that her husband was eating his meals all right. There was one other time when she was away that he went entirely without lunches. Didn’t bother to put them up. And anyway, he was very busy and hadn’t time to eat, he said. So when she got home he was thin as a rail. She didn’t want that to happen again.
Martha laughed at her and told her she was looking after his lunches. Every day she either sent him off to the restaurant or gave him some coffee and a sandwich in the house. And so she managed to make her subside for that week. But the next time she came down they went at it again, and this time Janice had joined the rebellion and declared she simply would not stay there another day at Martha’s expense. That she was perfectly well now and must go back and get that job she had to have at once.
Martha held them off a little longer for a few days’ rest and fun, and said they must all stay at least to the end of the week. Martha wanted to have the house a little further along before Janice returned. But the second coat of plaster was on, and it was dry enough to be perfectly safe to sleep in, they said. Besides, they didn’t sleep on the first floor where the plastering had been done, anyway, and the upstairs walls were dry as a bone.
So at the end of the week the little company packed up and migrated back to the city, a rosy, healthy group, and Mr. Roberts met them at the station and received his well baby and happy-looking wife with great thanksgiving.
They all stopped at Martha’s house for a minute or two to see how things were progressing, and even Martha was surprised to see how much had been accomplished in this last week. Mr. Roberts had put on three extra men who just happened to have a few days off from their regular jobs, and things were going fast.
The men had somehow all come to be interested in getting this house in shape for the return of the owner, and they had themselves come a little early that morning and swept up and tidied around till the place looked almost livable.
“We would have had it done, nearly, if we hadn’t been held up on the mill work. You know, it is hard to get things done in these wartimes,” said Roberts. “I had to change the design twice before I could find windows that would fit our spaces.”
But it seemed marvelous to Martha. She hadn’t expected to have anywhere near as much done.
Then Mr. Roberts went home to begin living again, and Martha and Janice went down to the store, for Janice was not satisfied to stay at home and wait. She wanted to be on the job at once.
So Martha left Janice in the waiting room while she ascended to the office of the manager and had her talk.
The manager was beset by a double rank of people in his office waiting to see him, but when Martha sent her name, she was to supersede them all and come at once to the inner sanctum.
“My word, Martha Spicer!” said the manager. “You’re the very person I was wishing I could see! Do you know what a fix you put us in, leaving this store? What do you think happened
this morning? Your nice little substitute that you took so much pains training to take your place announced that she is going to be married at the end of this month! Sprang it on me just like that! And I don’t know which way to turn to get somebody in her place. Do you know, we’ve discovered it isn’t everybody can take that place. Your little Miss Janeway did well enough, though we weren’t crazy about her. You see, you spoiled us, Spicer. We want you back! Say, don’t you want to come back at least for a while till we could look for another paragon like yourself? Not that I think there is one, for we want you back! How about it? Aren’t you tired of being a lady of leisure? We’ll double your pay and give you part-time whenever you want. We’ll really make it worth your while if you can take it up.”
And so, instead of talking about a job for Janice, Martha found herself actually considering whether she would go back herself.
“You could make money enough in a short time to cover all those improvements you’ve made,” whispered her good angel. “And besides, you’d have a chance to undo some of the impressions of yourself you’ve been regretting. Then, too, since you can have any assistant you want, why not take Janice? You could work together beautifully, and also watch that she didn’t overdo. You couldn’t have anything better.”
She tried to think why she had not wanted to go back. Her old hatred of the store! Why, where had it vanished? She was thrilled to be there again! Her recent delight at being free? But she had found it was lonely to be free. And how pleased she was to think they had actually missed her and wanted her back! Besides, it wouldn’t be the same old monotonous grind. She could stop now whenever she wanted to. She had her home, her lovely home, and friends who loved her. After all, why not be independent, like a man? Have business hours and then come home and enjoy life, making people happy with the money earned?
All the way down to the waiting room, the Adversary was calling her a fool.
“Now just see what you have done to yourself! Just because you are troubled about having spent so much money on other people who are nothing in the world to you, you are planning to go back into slavery again. You’ve taken a lot of fool responsibility on yourself! That boy and that silly girl, and those other long-legged fellows that harem-scarem boy brings around and will land on you, you’ll see! If you didn’t spend your money on other people, you wouldn’t have to do another lick of work. You ought to spend your money on yourself! It’s your just due!”