The blue wall : $b A story of strangeness and struggleChild, Richard Washburn
General
The blue wall : $b A story of strangeness and struggle
Child, Richard Washburn
Physicians -- Fiction; Psychological fiction
I may say to you, I think, that this strange influence came even more
than a year ago. I have tried in my own mind to establish a connection
between its beginning and an accident which happened at that time.
We had gone for a week-end visit to the Tencorts' farm in the Sweetbriar
Hills, and much against my wishes, expressed, however, sleepily,
Julianna had gone out at sunrise, chosen a rangy mare, saddled the
creature herself, for the grooms were not up, and had ridden off across
the wet fields, alone. Breakfast had already been announced when we
heard the hoofs of the animal and caught glimpses of the horse's yellow
neck and Julianna's plaid jacket, bobbing toward us under the arching
trees.
"Your lady is hardly what one might call a gentle rider," said Jack
Tencort. "As for me, I'm glad to see the mare in a foam for once, but I
would not be pleased to have my own wife--Hello, she is using her right
hand."
I, too, could see that Julianna's left arm was hanging by her side, and
as she pulled up the panting mare below the porch, I noticed that her
lips were white.
"I'm sorry to have forced your animal," she said, "but I was in a hurry
to get back. Jerry! Please hurry. Help me off."
"What's the matter?" cried our host behind me.
"To tell the truth," she said. "I have had my arm broken."
"Thrown?" cried Tencort, looking for signs of mud or dust on her
costume.
Julianna smiled gamely.
"That is a matter wholly between myself and the mare," she answered.
You know, of course, that in spite of her unconcerned answers the thing
was serious. The great trouble, I have always thought, was that no good
surgeon was within reaching distance; the country doctor who set the
bones failed to discover the presence of some splinters at the elbow,
which the injury had thrust up into and displaced some of the nerves and
sinew there.
When we had come back home and Nederlinck, the surgeon, had discovered
how the healing process had gone on, he told me that for many weeks my
wife would have to suffer great pain from the readjustment of the
irritated nerves. For two months he did what little he could and then
left the rest to time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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