Deliver Us from Evil, Ch. 10 "Evil Spirits"

Ominous incantations muttered in a deep, rasping voice rose high into the starless sky on the wisps of white smoke from a small campfire. Carter Graves stood watching silently from the shadows as Kotori threw in an offering of tobacco for the spirits along with a red powder that made the smoke roil thick and black.  When the witchdoctor removed something from a beaded deerskin pouch hanging from his neck, Graves craned to see what he would do next. The gunrunner spied a handful of shining red hair in the Indian’s dark palm, cut from the head of that marshal’s woman. Graves smiled to himself as Kotori tossed the hair into the flames, listening to it hiss and pop while it burned. Kotori knew how to keep that Marshal Dillon occupied and out of their way for a few days. Just long enough to sell their guns to the Indians. And Kotori had strong, powerful medicine, so that troublesome, redheaded woman was as good as dead.

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Kitty cried out, clutching her hand to her heart.  Doc sat beside her on the bed, hurriedly swiping the sweat from his furrowed brow with a wadded handkerchief, his own chest tightening as he helplessly watched his dear friend suffer.  She was calling for Matt Dillon, and Doc had no idea where he was.  Virgil had wired him both in Hays City and in Dodge.  Doc prayed that he got the message soon that Kitty Russell was desperately ill.

Virgil stood beside him, brown eyes frightened as he watched Doc bathe Kitty’s perspiring, flushed face, neck and arms with a cool cloth.  “Doc, can’t you do anything else for her?”

Isom Dewey remained quietly at the bedroom door, worriedly listening.

Doc expression was agonized as he scrubbed his hand over his wiry mustache and exclaimed quietly, “I don’t know!  I’ve…I’ve done everything I know to do!  She’s delirious with fever, but I’m scared to give her anymore quinine for fear I’ll kill her with an overdose!”  Doc peered at Virgil anxiously over his glasses.  “But I’ve never seen anything like this.”  He delicately unbuttoned the top three buttons of Kitty’s nightgown to show Virgil the black, angry bruise on her chest.  Now it even looked swollen.  Kitty pushed his hands away as she whispered insensibly to herself. 

“Dear God…” muttered Virgil, his eyes darting in alarm to Doc.  “What…what is it?”

“Before she became delirious, Kitty told me what had happened on her trip here.  An Indian captured her.  He had a spider in his hand and he hit her with that same hand and knocked her down.  Maybe the spider bit her?”  Doc shook his head, his voice rising in frustration.  “I just don’t know.”

Isom slowly approached the bed, asking hesitantly, “Kin I see it, Doc?”

Doc pulled the collar of Kitty’s nightgown carefully back to expose the blackened skin over her breastbone.  Her lips moved and she shook her head in some private conversation taking place only in her head.  Isom’s eyes widened and he took a step back.  He whispered, “I seen somethin’ like this before.”

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In a shadowy corner of the bedroom, Doc and Virgil stood listening attentively as Isom told his story.  “I come upon somethin’ similar many years ago, Doc, when I was young.”

Impatiently, Virgil prodded, “Where, Isom?”

“In a Cheyenne village.  I used to be a trapper and I married an Indian maid.”  Isom’s eyes softened as he remembered.  “I paid her father a lot of pelts and horses fer that perty young gal.   She was sweet as molasses and…”

Interrupting Isom’s fond reminiscing, Doc urged, “Tell us about the sickness you saw, Isom.”

“Well, I lived in camp with her when I wasn’t out huntin’ and trappin’.  One day I come upon a young brave who was layin’ on the ground, shakin’ from head to toe.  He was shore sick, I tell you.  There was a big black mark on his chest, jest like Miss Kitty’s got…”

Virgil eagerly asked, “What did you do?”

“I put him across m’ horse and took him back to my brother-in-law, so to speak.  Ayashe, Little One…that was my wife’s name…her brother was a medicine man for the tribe, name of Soaring Eagle.”

Doc took a step closer to Isom, his eyes gleaming attentively.  “What did the medicine man do for him?”

“Oh, Doc, he spoke over the man and called for the good spirits to heal him.”

Incredulously, Doc exclaimed, “That’s all?”

“Now, it was a long time ago, Doc.  A real long time ago.  Let me think…”  Isom’s eyes stared unseeing as he tried to remember.  “There were more things he did…  It weren’t pretty, to be sure.  He made a cut on his chest.”

“A cut?”

“He shore did.  And put medicine on it.  That brave I found got well after that.  But I tell you, I wasn’t real certain if he was gonna make it at first or not.  He was a real sick man.  Evil spirits was in him.  That’s what Soaring Eagle said.”

Doc sputtered, “Evil spirits?  Why, Isom, that’s pure…”

“You can poke fun if you want, Doc, but I saw it with my own two eyes.  That sick man’s eyes rolled back in his head and he talked crazy.  I think he would’ve died if it wasn’t for Soaring Eagle’s medicine.  He’s a powerful doctor, alright.  I seen him save many people I thought would die for certain.”

Doc took a hopeful breath and asked, “Where does this Indian doctor, Soaring Eagle… where does he live?”

“Ohh…not more’n twenty, twenty-five miles from here.”

“Just twenty miles, eh?”  Doc paced back and forth a couple of times, looking at the beautiful young woman so dear to his own heart who lay on sweat-soaked sheets, crying in vain for her lover.

“Maybe twenty-five.  Like I said, Doc, it’s been a long time.  I ain’t seen him since my wife died.  In childbirth, she died.  Lost our baby, too.”  Isom hung his head and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck as he remembered a painful time in his life.

Decisively, Doc clapped a hand on Isom’s arm.  “Can you tell me how to get there?”

“Well, Doc, I don’t rightly know if he’s still there.  I did hear tell of him a few years back though from a small band of Cheyenne who came through…”

Doc scrubbed a hand over his eyes wearily and whispered, “Isom, I’m afraid.  I’m afraid I might lose her.  She’s only getting worse.  I want to try taking her to your Indian doctor.  Do you think he’d help us?”

“I reckon he would.  I was a good husband to his sister.  We got along real good.”

“Then let’s go, Virgil.  Let’s load up the wagon.  Let’s leave right away. There’s not a moment to spare.”

Matter-of-factly, Isom spoke up.  “Doc, you’ll need me.  I’ll have to talk to Soaring Eagle.  He might not want to treat a white woman.”

“You’re right, Isom.  You’ll have to go with us.  But what’ll we do with the child?”

Virgil hurriedly supplied, “I’ve got neighbors, a married couple who live a few miles from here.  We can leave Lillie Mae with them along the way.”

Nodding, Doc asked, “Alright, Isom, can you help us get ready?”

The old man offered, “I’ll pack Lillie Mae’s bag.”

Virgil stated, “And I’ll go make a bed in the wagon and pack it with supplies.”

“Let’s get busy.  Kitty’s fever is dangerously high.  I don’t know if she’ll make it another day…”  

Doc’s voice broke and he turned away from the other men.  He continued in a strained voice with his back to them, “Come on, you two.  There’s really not a minute to waste.”

tbc

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