The Great Plains by Nicole Alexander Page A

foot, like a dog beside its master.
    Finally the bedroom door was opened and the nurse entered, leaving him alone with Philomena and a male attendant. Aloysius noticed the pull of material on his niece’s arm where she was held in a tight grip. ‘Have you noticed any improvement in my niece?’
    The attendant turned to face him and Aloysius noticed the three red welts that ran across the man’s cheek. The marks were fresh. ‘Been with the Injuns too long, this one has, sir. If you don’t mind me saying so, she should be with the rest of the lunatics, not taking up space in this here room that’s meant for them that appreciate quality care.’
    â€˜Actually, I do mind you saying that,’ Aloysius replied stiffly.
    â€˜Didn’t mean no offence, sir.’
    Philomena was watching Aloysius and mumbling under her breath. For a fleeting moment her features appeared to soften but then it was as if a shadow passed overhead and her gaze grew challenging. Aloysius wondered if some sort of hex had been placed upon him and he shivered at the thought. Then the door opened. He caught a whiff of something raw and pungent.
    â€˜Bring her,’ a nurse directed.
    The attendant pushed Philomena into the bedroom and shut the door before slumping onto the settee. ‘Must be hard after waiting so long to see one of your kin like that. Them Injuns did a right job on her, eh? And your niece being so comely and all, well, it must be hard, is all I’m saying.’ He stretched a thick arm across the back of the settee. ‘If she could talk, eh? Well, wouldn’t that be something. To know what Geronimo was like, a real live war chief and all. You know they say he hung a young white girl by the base of her skull on a meat hook. Was all over the papers, my mother tells me … Guess you’re not one for conversation, eh? Well, I wouldn’t be either, under the circumstances.’
    Outside the pale day drifted into a dreary late afternoon. It was not a pleasant aspect. The trees blotted out the remnants of the winter sun and the altered shapes of the garden lengthened and moved in the lifting wind. Philomena’s daughter began to scream, waking the sleeping attendant and causing the doctor’s voice to rise in protest.
    â€˜Never heard a person scream like that,’ the attendant said uneasily.
    Aloysius stretched out one leg and then the other. The sitting room was cold and ill-lit, his sense of discomfort heightened.
    The attendant leant forward. ‘Some of them Injuns scream to keep evil away. Do you think that’s what she’s doing?’
    Aloysius looked blankly at the man sitting opposite. He knew nothing of their customs.
    â€˜They have Injun medicine men, I know that, so maybe there’s a woman that should be here for woman’s business.’
    Eventually the girl’s screams became intermittent, peppered with moans of exhaustion. Aloysius began to wonder at the length of the procedure. Philomena’s presence clearly did not serve to quiet the girl and when a nurse appeared to fetch bandages, he bade her to tell the doctor to give the girl laudanum. The woman barely acknowledged him and instead returned from the bedroom with Philomena in tow.
    His niece was red of eye, expressionless.
    Aloysius stood. ‘Is everything all right, my dear?’ he enquired automatically.
    The nurse looked at Aloysius as if he were an idiot. The waiting attendant was on his feet immediately. Roughly grasping Philomena by her arms, he marched her out into the hallway where she was locked in a room across the passage. The nurse returned to the bedroom.
    Aloysius was left alone. He wondered, not for the first time, if he had made the right decision keeping Annie and the rest of the family away. Not even his old friend Clarence Hocking had been permitted to meet Philomena. Aloysius couldn’t see the point of submitting his niece to the scrutiny of strangers,