The Emerald Key - By Christopher Dinsdale Page 0,24
covered in a carpet of humanity. Men, women, and children were huddled together, sick and shivering on the floor. Weaving in and out of the sick were a half-dozen nuns carrying either trays of medicines or mops. Jamie’s nose twitched in disgust. The stench of the sickness simply poured out through the open door. Stepping over several patients, a nurse made her way towards them.
“Excuse me, but I have a small boy who … “
She glided past them in her long white habit as if she had not heard a word he had said. Jamie thought for a moment, then switched to French.
“Excusez-moi. Could I have your assistance, s’il vous plaît?”
She stopped in her tracks and turned around, amused.
“A French-speaking Irish boy?” she replied in French.
“I know a bit,” he continued. “I’m dropping off this boy from the Independence. He has lost his family, and I was told to bring him here to quarantine.”
She sighed and wiped her brow. “He can stay here by the door. After I tend to the other patients, I’ll help settle him in.”
A man leaning up against the doorframe doubled over in a heaving wet cough. His face was as pale as death itself. Jamie quickly moved Colin to the other side of the door.
“Should the boy really be in here? He’s not sick.”
The nurse shrugged. “We’ve brought up that very point with the doctor many times. The sick infect the healthy and that makes our job even more difficult. But the government insists that families stay together in quarantine. Some have chosen to keep away from the sick by living down on the shoreline. To tell you the truth, I cannot blame them. But this little boy is here by himself. He must stay in the building with us so that he can be supervised.”
Jamie could see that she was exhausted. “Your duties seem to be unending. Are there really only six of you?”
“There usually are more nurses, but some have come down with the sickness themselves, and we are severely short-staffed. The only nurses in Canada willing to work here among the sick are other Catholic nuns. All other nurses in Canada refuse to come to our quarantine station for fear of catching disease.”
“Then how do you survive?”
She mustered a smile. “I work all day long, but I try to catch a little sleep when I can. This is what I was meant to do. It’s my calling. I’m sorry, but I must go.”
A calling. Jamie understood. It was a calling from above that had brought him into the priesthood as well. The nun quickly approached a nearby family with eight children, all lying on their sides, writhing in severe pain. Jamie looked down at Colin, who was taking in the whole scene through huge eyes. His face showed no emotion. He had already seen so much death in Ireland and then on the ship as his family slipped away one by one. Jamie guessed he was probably now immune to it. Or perhaps he had decided that he was destined to be next. It wasn’t fair that an innocent child had to see so much horror at such a young age. Jamie had him turn his back to the sickness and walked him across the veranda. Together, they sat down on the steps. The beautiful panoramic view of the sparkling St. Lawrence River stood in stark contrast to the bleak horrors that lay behind.
“I need to go talk to someone about my brother,” said Jamie. “You wait right here on this step for me. The nurse will be back soon. If she arrives before I get back, do what she says and follow her. Don’t worry if she moves you. I’ll come and find you, I promise.”
Jamie started to pull away, but Colin wouldn’t let go of his hand. His eyes started to widen in panic. Jamie knelt down and smiled. “I’ll be back very soon.”
Slowly, Colin released his grip. It broke Jamie’s heart to leave him alone, even if it was for just a few minutes.
Jamie needed to get his bearings on the island before he could start his search for Ryan. He swung behind the quarantine station and climbed up the hill until he reached the summit of Grosse Isle. The view of the huge river stretching east and west was breathtaking, with sailing vessels of all shapes and sizes plying its sparkling waters. He had never seen a valley as thickly wooded and lush as what banked either side