“It is a terrible life they face. I was just thinking as I helped Mother distribute the food packages that we’re quite lavishly blessed.”
“We are,” he agreed. “It wasn’t always so for my family. We started off well, but then my father lost everything, and after he died, my mother and sister suffered greatly. He shrugged. “But of course you’ve heard all of this before.”
“Yes, but I cannot imagine the difficulties because I’ve not had to live them. Still, I see their homes and lack of what I consider common supplies. No wonder some feel driven to steal. Some are treated worse than the animals on the streets.”
“We’ve always tried to acknowledge their needs and help others. We can’t make the world right, only God can do that. However, as His ambassadors we must do what we can and share what we have. God has blessed us in this way, knowing that our hearts would be touched in this direction. He knows well in advance who will reach out to the hopeless and offer encouragement and help.”
“Their housing situation is so dire. I can’t even imagine sleeping on the ground with rats threatening to bite me.” Evie could still remember the little girl’s infected arms.
“They bite the children because they are usually unwashed. Sometimes they have bits of food smeared on their hands and arms. I’ve worked hard to encourage cleanliness. Your mother too.”
“Yes, each of her packages includes soap.” Evie smiled. Mother well understood the dilemma. She always stressed the importance of keeping things and people clean, but someone had once told her it was hard to worry about soap when soup was needed for empty bellies.
On a Sunday afternoon, traffic was light downtown, and they made the journey in quick order. When they pulled up to the homeless building, Evie steadied her nerves and tried not to think about what they’d find inside. She whispered a prayer and took up her bag. When Father wasn’t looking she dabbed a healthy bit of the peppermint oil around her nose and chin. As she did, she noted the man she and her mother had met earlier. Mr. Stubbs, wasn’t it? He was speaking in the alleyway with what appeared to be a uniformed servant. How odd.
At the door, Father paused alongside her. “I smell mint. How refreshing.”
“Yes,” Evie murmured but offered nothing more.
Inside, the situation was even worse than she’d imagined. The men had been ruthless and gone after each other with the idea of causing as much harm as possible, perhaps even death.
“We’re going to have to preform delicate surgery to keep this man from losing his arm.” Father was already pulling various tools from his bag.
Those in charge of the mission had a room set aside for medical needs. They had already cleaned each of the men and staunched the bleeding as best they could. Evie workedalongside her father for the operation. She felt bile rise in her throat and swallowed it down. She was determined to be an asset and not cause her father grief. Thankfully, there hadn’t been time to eat lunch.
They worked well together. Evie had always been complimented by doctors for her ability to anticipate their requests for instruments. They had no way of knowing how hard it was for Evie to concentrate as she fought against her nausea and feeling faint.
Once they finished with the man, Father directed the staff to arrange for his transfer to the hospital. He would need round-the-clock care and might yet pass away from his injuries. The other man’s wounds, although serious, were less life-threatening. Father stitched him up and spoke to him about the need to keep the wounds clean.
“Infection is almost certain given the setting. No doubt you fought with dirty knives that you had used for the vilest of duties. I’ve cleansed your cuts as best I could, but you must be careful. Watch for redness and swelling, streaks of red going up toward your heart from the wounds. Any problems at all should be addressed. If you get chilled, that might mean fever from an infection.”
“I’ll see to it,” the man grumbled.
Evie could see her father had his doubts. She couldn’t help but add her thoughts. “Father, it’s all right. I measured him and can give the numbers to the undertaker just in case.”
The man’s eyes widened at this. “I said I’d see to it, and I will.” His words sounded more like a pledge.
Father gave a serious nod, but when he turned away, there was amusement in his eyes. She had requested boiling water earlier and now used this to clean her father’s instruments, repacking them in his bag before gathering the bottles of cleaner and salve that he’d used. Replacing these as well, shetook both bags and headed through the mission back to the wagon.
Outside there was some excitement about a fire elsewhere, but Evie didn’t know where it was purported to be. She took her place on the wagon and waited for Father. He was there within minutes, noting the same atmosphere of concern.
“What’s happened?” he asked, settling in beside Evie.
“Apparently a fire. However, I have no idea where it is or what’s happened to stir everyone into a frenzy.”
He frowned and released the brake to start for home.
Once they were well on their way, Evie decided to speak to her father about her decision. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you. Well, Mother too, but for now it seems appropriate to start with you.”
“I’m all ears. Go right ahead.”
He maneuvered them toward the Hennepin Avenue Bridge only to be stopped by the clanging bells of the fire truck coming up fast behind them. Two teams of black geldings pulled the tank wagon and passed by in a flash. As many as eight men hung off various areas of the wagon, fighting to keep their grips.
As they headed across the bridge, Evie could see the billowing smoke that was coming from Nicollet Island. She pointed and nudged her father. “Look, it’s quite a blaze.”
Father glanced that way and frowned. “There are bound to be injuries. Would you mind if we stop and lend a hand?”
It was the very last thing Evie wanted to do, but what could she say? She gave a nod and then looked back to the fire below and to the south. What in the world had happened to create such a blaze?
