The Rough Rider (3 page)

Burns smiled at her words and leaned back, enjoying the small respite at the end of a tiring day. The two sat talking quietly, and finally Agnes shook her head dolefully. “Mattie quit this afternoon. Left me without anybody to do the cleaning.”

“There’s plenty looking for work,” Burns said. “She wasn’t too good, anyway.”

“No, she wasn’t. We’ve got to find somebody more dependable.”

Burns nodded in agreement, then took the last swallow of tea. Rising to his feet, he rubbed the back of his neck and said, “I’ll see ye in the morning, Agnes. I need some rest.” He left the room and, pulling on his coat, made his way to the front entrance. He was settling his bowler firmly when he heard a voice calling his name.

“Dr. Burns . . .?”

Turning, Burns was taken off guard at the sight of Gail Summers and her brother, Jeb. He had wondered about the sick woman since his visit, and had thought once or twice about going back, but the constant demands at the hospital had made that all but impossible.

“Well, now, this is fine,” he said, going over to them with a smile. He put his hand on Jeb’s shoulder and looked down at the young boy. “And how is it with yer good mother?” he asked in a kindly fashion.

“She’s doing good, Doctor,” Jeb said stoutly. He looked up with a smile on his thin lips. “That sure was good medicine you gave her.”

“She’s much better now, Dr. Burns,” Gail broke in. There was a breathless quality about her, and her eyes seemed brighter than when she first appeared at the hospital door. She struggled with the words and then stuck out her hand, which held a small package in it. “I’ve brought you this.”

“For me? Why, you shouldn’t have done that!” Burns tore off the brown wrapping paper and found a fine white linen handkerchief folded neatly inside. He was touched by the gift, surmising that the girl had sacrificed to get it for him. He had learned, however, to never refuse a gift. He looked at her now with a broad smile and said, “Why, this is just what I needed! How did you know that?” He fingered the handkerchief and said, “Fine quality, too. Thank you so much.”

The girl’s face lit up with pleasure at his ready acceptance of the small gift. “I hope you like it,” she said shyly.

“Well, I certainly do!” Pulling the handkerchief out, he held it up and looked at it, then he glanced at the pair and said, “Where are you going? You didn’t make this trip just to bring this package to me, did you?”

“No, we’re on our way to the mission.”

“The mission?”

“Yes. The Water Street Mission. We go there every time we can.”

“Why don’t you come with us, Dr. Burns?” said Jeb. “You’d like Awful.”

The boy’s words caused Burns to blink. “I’d like awful what?” he asked.

Jeb laughed at the doctor’s question. “You’d like Awful Gardner. That’s the minister’s name, except he ain’t really a preacher.”

Gail added eagerly, “Awful Gardner runs the mission. That’s not really his name, but that’s what everybody calls
him. He was such a bad man and grew up with the name. He went to Sing Sing . . . the prison, you know.”

“Did he really? And now he’s running a mission?” Burns was a devout Christian himself and had read about the mission work going on in the Water Street area. He thought for a moment, then said, “I think I read something in the paper about that mission.” He hesitated, then looked down at the two pale faces waiting for his answer. Suddenly, an idea came to him. “Tell ye what, I might go with ye myself. I haven’t heard any good preaching in quite a while.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Gail beamed.

“Come along. We’ll have to get a bite to eat first. I haven’t had anything since lunch.” He did not miss the light that came into the boy’s face and the girl’s embarrassment at his invitation.

He led them out the door and down the steps to the street. After a few minutes, they reached a restaurant not too far from the hospital. It was a favorite spot, where the doctor often stopped after his long days at the hospital. He found the food well prepared, but he also enjoyed the warmth of the place. They found a table, and when the waiter came, Burns said, “Well, now, we might as well eat hearty. I always like to have a full stomach when I hear a good sermon. What if I order for all of us?”

“Oh yes,” Gail whispered quickly. The two young people sat there until the meal was brought—hot soup, mutton, and potatoes. David Burns did not miss how they wolfed it down. Memories of similar looks from a village high in the mountains of Scotland flashed in his mind.
Half starved,
he thought to himself.
Too bad!—Too bad!

Just when Gail and Jeb had finished their portions of mutton, the waiter reappeared carrying plates with generous slices of apple pie that Burns had ordered. He couldn’t help smiling at the look of surprise that filled their eyes.

Finally, the meal finished, they left and walked along the street until they turned down Water Street. Before long, they
came to a simple frame building with white boards in the front, and Gail said, “This is it. Come on. . . .”

Jeb took the doctor’s hand and said, “I’ll get us a seat down front.”

As they stepped inside, Burns’s eyes swept the interior of the simple room. It was large and rectangular with rough benches, and at the front stood a small, single table with a pitcher of water on it. A tall, middle-aged man with black hair and a thin face approached them at once. “Well, now, you’ve brought a visitor, have you, Gail and Jeb?”

“Yes, sir. This is Dr. Burns,” Gail said quickly. “He’s the one that made my ma well.”

“No, I didna do it. The good Lord made your mother well.” Burns smiled and took the outstretched hand of Awful Gardner and instantly liked what he saw. Gardner was a thin-faced individual with a rich Irish accent and an honest, able look about him. “I’ve come down to hear the Gospel. I’ve been to several churches in the city, but they’re a little thin on substance.”

Gardner grinned broadly. “Well, sir, you’ll hear nothing here but the blood of Jesus for sinners! That’s all we are, sir, just lost sinners. The service is about ready to start. Won’t you take a seat?”

Jeb grabbed Burns’s arm and half dragged him to the front of the room. As Burns sat with the two young people, he looked around, noting that the entire congregation was altogether of the rougher sort. Men and a few women, all of them shabbily dressed, filled the benches.

Awful took his place at the front and welcomed those who had gathered, then went right into the service. It was a spirited meeting, at least from Awful Gardner’s standpoint. He stood up and began to sing, and Burns was able to join in. Some of the songs were the same ones Burns had learned as a boy in his native Scotland. The service was going smoothly enough until a huge man with a red shirt on the bench across from Burns began to shout. They’d just started singing “Rock of
Ages,” when the man, obviously drunk, began to sing the words of an obscene saloon song.

At once, Awful Gardner put down his hymnbook, walked over to the man, and said firmly, “You must leave or I’ll put you out, Jackson.”

“What’s the matter with you?” Jackson shouted. “Get out of here or I’ll smash your face.”

Awful Gardner reached out and caught Jackson by the collar. The drunk reached back and locked his hands around the back of the bench. “Go ahead, old feller,” he grinned.

Gardner got a tighter grip on Jackson’s shirt and surged backward. By this time, everyone else had jumped off the bench. Jackson was lifted to his feet and the bench with him. The congregation continued to sing “Rock of Ages,” but all eyes were on the fight. Gardner dragged Jackson and the bench into the aisle. The bench hit the ceiling and Jackson’s grip was broken. The drunk tried to put up a fight, but Awful Gardner grabbed him around the neck and hauled him down the aisle. Wildly, the man grabbed at whatever he could—benches, even heads of those foolish enough to stay in the way. There was a final lunge near the door. They both slammed into it, and as it swung open, Gardner gave the man a hard push out into the street, then slammed the door. His face was somewhat flushed, but despite the interruption he seemed unperturbed. Walking back up the aisle, he picked up his hymnbook and joined the others, singing, “Rock of Ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee.”

After the song service Gardner gave a simple but clear sermon. When it was over Burns came forward to shake his hand. “That was a good sermon, sir. I’ll be looking forward to hearing more of the same. Sorry you had a bit of trouble there with that fellow drinking.”

“Don’t mind the poor fellow, Doctor. He’s been taking a little too much, but the Lord Jesus will win out.”

“I’d like to hear a wee bit more about yer work here. Maybe I can help in some way.”

“Would you, now! Well, that’d be right fine,” Gardner said enthusiastically. “Come along. You can meet some of my helpers. Here, Miss Simms, you just take charge of these two young ones while I show the doctor around. . ..”

It was an interesting half hour for Burns. He had done mission work in Scotland and felt a warm surge of approval for Awful Gardner, who had chosen to hold up the banner of the cross in the worst part of New York City.

Gardner finally began to talk about the people. “They’re the roughs of the city, but I was one of them. Just a drunk I was, chiefest of sinners! I even did time in Sing Sing.”

Burns listened attentively, then said, “I feel sorry for the children of the area. You have to get their parents saved before they can have a decent chance at life.”

“That’s right,” Gardner nodded, then he grew solemn. “That young girl and her brother—the Summers children—they’ve got a hard way to go.” Awful Gardner shook his head sadly. “Did Gail tell you about losing her job?”

“Why, no. She didn’t say a word.”

“Ah, that’s the way of it. She keeps her troubles to herself.” Gardner shook his head regretfully. “She’s worried about it, though. That brute of a stepfather of hers, Harry Lawson, he’ll beat her. He’s done it before.”

Burns became profoundly disturbed at Gardner’s words about Harry Lawson. He ran his hand into his pocket, took two or three quick steps toward the window, stared out into the darkness, then turned back. “Is there nothing to be done? She’s a fine girl.”

“Well, I’ll ask about. There’s not much work in the winter though. Even some of the factories have closed down.” He shook his head dolefully. “If she doesn’t find work, I don’t know what’ll become of them. Her father drinks up all that he makes, and the meager earnings Gail brings home puts food on the table.”

“What about the other children? Don’t they help?”

“Wild as bucks. All three of them. Too much like their
father, I’m afraid,” Awful growled. “I never have said it, but Mrs. Lawson and her two youngsters would be better off by themselves.”

Burns suddenly snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute! I know of a job that might do. Not much, but—”

Eagerly, Awful said, “It don’t have to be much. What is it, Doctor?”

“Well, someone just left the hospital, and we do need a girl to help out.”

Gardner listened carefully as the doctor explained about the need for someone to help out with the cleaning. “It’s just the thing for her!” Gardner exclaimed. “That way, you can kind of keep an eye out for her. I don’t like the children—especially the young girls—to have to roam these streets. Do you think she can have the job?”

“I think I can talk the head nurse into it. Let’s ask Gail if she wants it.”

At once, Awful called out, “Gail, come over here, please.” And when the girl came, he said, “You know, we’ve been praying about a job,” Awful said. “And—well, I think we might just have an angel here to answer those prayers.”

“An angel?”

Gail looked doubtfully at the doctor, and Awful grinned broadly at the girl’s confusion. “Well, sort of an angel. I’ve never heard an angel with a Scottish accent, but it may be that God sent the good doctor our way. Tell her what you just told me, Doctor.”

“It’s just that I heard the head nurse say that they’re going to have to hire someone to do cleaning at the hospital. It doesn’t pay much, but if you want it, I think I can get the job for you.”

Gail’s face lighted up. She reached out as if to touch Dr. Burns, then drew her hand back quickly. “Oh, Doctor, that would be so good!”

“Well, that’ll be the way of it, then. I’ll hurry back to the
hospital and tell Nurse Smith that I’ve found her a new helper. It’s hard work,” he warned. “And not a lot of money.”

The girl looked at him with glowing eyes. Her face was thinned down by poverty and hardship—yet somehow there was an almost ethereal beauty in her at that moment that Dr. Burns found intriguing.

“I ain’t never gonna be able to thank you enough, Doctor!” she whispered. Then tears filled her eyes, and she quickly turned and walked away. When she found Jeb, she put her arm around him. “An angel has found me a job, Jeb,” she murmured. She whispered some of the details and looked over to where the doctor was talking with Awful Gardner. “He’s an angel with an accent.” Her eyes were almost worshipful as she watched Dr. Burns. “Ain’t he wonderful!”

“He don’t look like no angel to me. He don’t have no circle around his head, and he ain’t got no white robe on. He just don’t look like an angel’s supposed to look.” Nevertheless, when he saw the look on his sister’s face, he smiled and said, “But I guess he’s okay. In a pinch, I guess any kind of angel will do . . . !”

CHAPTER TWO

An Open Door

The winter of 1897 had been particularly hard on the tenement dwellers of Lower Manhattan. Snow had fallen out of the sky as if dumped from celestial wheelbarrows, clogging the streets. The omnipresent clothes of tenement dwellers that hung out over the balconies and on the rooftops were frozen stiff, and the shrill, keening winds whistled down the canyons of poverty, turning lips blue and freezing hands into raw, red knuckles. The poor had done what they always did during inclement weather—survive as best they could—while the rich ordered servants to throw more wood in the fireplace, or simply chose to travel to exotic places that offered a warmer climate. Those of Five Points had no such options.