The Lilac Tunnel: My Journey with Samantha

I agree to go to the doctor’s office, but as soon as I do, my heart begins racing. Samantha assures me that Dr. Barnett is very nice. But just in case, Samantha will stay with me the whole time. Hawkins calls us a cab, but when we go outside to meet it, instead of a yellow taxi, a horse-drawn carriage clops toward us. I feel very far away from home. The driver stops in front of the house and Samantha links her arms with mine and leads me to the carriage. Hawkins helps me into the seat and then Samantha and Grandmary step up behind me to join me.

As we bounce and sway down the street, I see other horse-drawn carriages along with an odd looking car up ahead. The car has narrow wheels, no roof, and is a single seat. It looks like the antique cars I’ve seen in parades back home. A man is vigorously cranking a handle on the front of the car. As we draw near to the car, I hear a clank and then the rumble of the motor. The sound is somewhere between a lawn mower and a motorcycle. The whole car shakes.

Samantha asks me if the noise is irritating my head. When I shake my head, she proudly tells me that her Uncle Gard has an automobile. She can’t wait to ride in it. Grandmary seems less enthusiastic. She says the modern machines are a nuisance. She lifts her hand to cover her ears from the deafening sound of the motor. I stifle a giggle. I wonder what Grandmary would think of the cars in my time. They’re quieter, yes, but there sure are a lot more of them.

I am surprised when the cab stops in front of a small, cream-colored house. Are we picking up somebody? But when the driver reaches for my hand to help me down, I realize this must be the doctor’s office. What kind of a doctor works out of his home? Grandmary leads us up the porch steps and goes through the front door without knocking, as if the home were her own. Two people are waiting in what looks like a living room. The man has a bandaged foot and a pair of crutches, and the small girl has red blisters all over her face.

I settle on a leather couch beside Samantha. I look at the little girl and see she’s scratching her palms now. There must be blisters there, too. I tried to avoid looking at her, but Samantha leans towards me and says she has chicken pox. She asks the little girl if it itches. She nods, and Samantha reassures her that it’ll get better soon.

Grandmary says to me that Samantha and her have already had chicken pox. She asks me if I’ve had it. I shake my head and say I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I would remember something like that. I ask if it’s contagious, and Grandmary nods and says it is quite contagious. I steal another glance at the girl. We sit in silence. The girl coughs without covering her mouth. I glance nervously at Samantha and sink lower in my seat. Samantha holds my hand and says that I will be okay.

When the door to the doctor’s office swings open, I jump. A woman with a long white apron walks out, leading a boy and his mother. The boy has even more blisters than the girl. I see some on his swollen eyelids. The woman says the menthol salve will help with the itching, and he should be kept away from other children as much as possible. The boy walks past me, much too close, as he and his mother leave the waiting room. The little girl hops up and follows them out, casting one last glance over her shoulder at me.

The woman in the apron approaches Grandmary and asks what she needs help with. She stands and asks if she is Dr. Barnett’s nurse. The woman says that she’s Dr. Annabeth Ross. She’s finishing her final month of training with Dr. Barnett before starting her own practice. Grandmary’s eyes widen. She says we’re here to see Dr. Barnett. Dr. Ross smiles and says he’s here, too.

As we follow her into the office, Samantha elbows me. A woman doctor! Can I possibly believe it? Right here in Mount Bedford! I wonder why she is so surprised. My doctor back home is a woman. But I can tell by the disapproving look on Grandmary’s face that I won’t be seeing the woman doctor.

The doctor’s exam room looks like my dad’s cluttered office at home. Framed certificates hang in rows on the walls, and books and encyclopedias line the bookshelves. The man doctor sits at a wooden desk in the corner, scribbling something on a notepad. Instead of a white lab coat, he’s wearing a silk vest and dress pants. The stethoscope around his neck looks familiar though. Samantha stands next to me as I climb onto the table. When he turns on a tall lamp, the light is blinding. I look away, toward a cabinet full of glass vials. There’s also a row of sharp-looking instruments in the case, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Samantha taps my hand.

Grandmary explains to the doctor that I fell while bicycle riding. He nods and says bicycles can be dangerous. He asks Dr. Ross to adjust the lamp. As the woman doctor moves closer to the examining table and adjusts the lamp, Samantha watches her every move with fascination. Dr. Barnett asks me to look left and right as Dr. Ross shines the lamp light into and then away from my eyes.

Next, he tests my reflexes by tapping just below the knees with a metal hammer. Then, he has me test my strength. I try to hold my arms out from my sides parallel to the ground as he pushes down on them. Finally, he says that he doesn’t see any signs of a concussion. But I’ll need someone to watch me for the next few hours and I can use ice to reduce the swelling. He’ll send some aspirin with us, too. When he hands the medication to Grandmary, she hesitates before taking it.

As we leave the doctor’s office, I reach backward to pull the door shut behind me. And then I hesitate. Did the children with chicken pox touch this doorknob? I nervously wipe my sweaty palms on my capris.