six
At the depot, Kitty hired a porter to carry her bags. She took the first hansom cab she came to. The driver was an unlikable sort. Kitty kept her conversation short. "Do you know how to get to St. Vincent's?"
"The loony bin?" He questioned with a nasty chortle. "Why sure, though don't get much request to go there, most folks heading to St. Vincent's don't have the money to pay for a cab." He gave her a second perusal, before deciding she was good for the fare. "Past the poor farm, the county dump and just before you get to the pauper graveyard."
"Good." She replied trying to stifle her imagination at the visions his directions implied.
The carriage was ill kept and dirty, any suspension system to guarantee a smooth ride had long since given way. Her hands gripped the seat to keep from bouncing off. Had she anything in her stomach that morning, she would certainly have lost it before arriving at her destination. She could tell, without looking out the window, when they passed the dump, and was again thankful for her empty stomach."
They stopped in front of a stark three-story, red stone structure, void of any Victorian ornamentation. Two side wings jutted forward while the main entrance was housed between them. The windows, like those in a jailhouse, had bars on them. A long overgrown walk-way led to the main door. The skies were gray, making St Vincent's appear all the more ominous. She fought for courage, and told the driver to wait for her at the front gates. "I'll pay you for your time." She assured him.
She rang a bell at the double door entrance and a callous looking guard let her in, she could feel the leer of his eyes as his gaze charred a trail across her figure. "I'd like to speak with the Administrator please."
His mouth opened in some fashion of a grin, revealing yellowed teeth, caked with scum and decay. "You one of them Ladies Aide women, aiming to make St. Vincent's your next charity? We had your kind before' most don't have the stomach for a second visit."
She gave him no reply. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, "suit yourself lady." He opened the front door for her, and pointed down a dark corridor, "First door on the right, Mr. Harris is his name."
He let the door slam behind her. For a moment she remained motionless letting her eyes become accustomed to the dim light. The place reeked with the smell of feces, vomit and stale body odor' tenfold the stench from the county dump - even her empty stomach threatened revolt. From down the hall she could detect the smell of boiled fish and putrid refuse. The floor was so filthy she lifted her skirts to keep them from being soiled by contact with it, as she walked down the corridor. She knocked on the office with the back of her hand, and used her hanky to cover the knob when the voice inside hollered, "Whatdoyawant?"
A heavy set man of middle years was seated behind a battered mahogany desk, a large window was opened and fresh air made the atmosphere breathable, although he seemed bent on polluting it with a cheap cigar. Unlike the rest of the building she'd come in contact with, this space held some semblance of cleanliness.
He raised his head to squint at her, "What can I do for you lady?He asked, not rising to his feet, or offering to extinguish his cigar. "Don't tell me you want to be offering your services as a nurse or maybe a scullery maid?"
Remembering Wilcox's directive regarding her assumed identity, she adjusted her backbone and began, "No sir, I'm looking for my brother-in-law. He's been missing for months, and I've been led to believe he might be a resident here." She opened her reticule and removed the photograph of Matt Dillon, which had been taken on their last visit to St Louis. She held it out for Mr. Harris to see, "This is he."
Harris looked from the picture to Kitty, letting his eyes travel down her trim figure, taking note of the expensive clothing, "Could be he's here, I can't rightly remember" His eyes glared pointedly at her handbag. Catching the implication, she withdrew a gold coin and tossed on his desk. "Sir, I suggest you remember and remember now. I've traveled a long way and my patience has reached its limit. The name is Kathleen Kent, of Wethersfield, Georgia and my family will not look kindly should any harm come to either Matthew or myself."
He snorted at her boldness, "Matthew's his name, eh? Yeah, he's here, blithering idiot, can't put two words together, can't tell his name, just sits and stares. You can take him off our hands and we'll be grateful for it lady."
Her smile at finding him was as honest as her concern, "Has he been under the care of a physician?"
This time Harris laughed out loud, "He's been under the care of the 'ten-day girls' that be all the County's willing to put out for the likes of them residing here."
"Ten-day girls?" The term was foreign to her.
"Yeah. Drunks and prostitutes, they pluck 'em off the street and send'em to the county work farm, the one what ain't strong enough to work the field gets sent here, to care for the inmates, them what can't care for themselves. They work off a ten-day sentence."
Pocketing the gold piece, he pushed himself out of his chair, "Come with me." he ordered and he walked from his office to the filthy corridor. She had to run to keep up with him.
At the end of the hall were double doors with barred windows; the glass was so filthy it was no longer transparent. Harris took a key from the ring on his belt and unlocked the room. Before pushing it open, he explained, "We house eighteen inmates in here, most of 'em will never know the true light of day again, some lost their mind in the war, others in the hell afterwards." He chuckled snidely, "Still others never had it to begin with. Four ten-day girls take car of the lot, the County don't give us much by way of supplies, but they don't ask no questions either. Your brother is one of the lucky ones, at least until tomorrow, Lilly's watching over him."
Why until tomorrow?" She asked.
"Lilly goes back on the street, she served her time." He gave the door a push. Muffled sounds became instantly loud and clear as did the stench. She gagged and swallowed back bile. Grabbing her hanky she placed it over her nose and stared out over the broad expanse of the ward. On either side were iron cots, some topped with mattresses and filthy covers others just grimy wooden planks. Many of the patients lay unmoving, eyes fixed to the ceiling in a catatonic stare.
Others were shackled to the iron framework of their cots; they made sounds, like an animal caught in a trap as she passed by them. With a sideward glace she saw their soiled clothing and filthy bodies; their faces distorted by idiotic smiles or pained grimaces. Begging hands reached out to her. A shiver traveled her spine. As anxious as she was to see Matt, she said a silent prayer that she wouldn't find him here after all.
The 'ten-day-girls' went about their work, looking little better than the patients they were sentenced to tend.
"Lilly." Harris summoned, "Got a gal here, she says one of your fellas is her brother."
Lilly, was a pale woman with hair the color of dirty dishwater and just as greasy. She could have been as young as her teens or older than Kitty it was hard to tell. She was thin, with gaunt cheeks and hollowed eyes. She made her way over to Harris and Kitty, dragging her left leg as she moved. She viewed Kitty as royalty and made a small clumsy curtsy in her presence.
"Ma'am?"
Despite her worry about Matt, Kitty's smile was cordial, " Hello Lilly, I'm looking for my brother-in-law." She held out the photograph of Matt. Lilly didn't take it, but only leaned closer for a better look. She turned back to Kitty with a smile, which revealed a chipped front tooth.
"Abe, that's what I calls him, 'cause he don't know no better, and I gots ta call him somethin'. I give a name to all my fellas."
"Abe?" Kitty questioned.
"He's a tall bony man, got a beard, kinda reminds me of ol' honest Abe." She motioned with her hand. "I gots him sittin' over here. He seems ta like lookin' ovt the window." She led the way to a small alcove off the ward where several patients were sitting.
Her voice became slightly boastful, "he was right sick when I come on, he'd been here for a spell already, had a couple bullet holes in him. It didn't look to me like he was gonna make it, took all my tendin' to bring him around."
Although, there was no need, Lilly pointed Matt out, as Kitty entered the small room. He was in a straight chair facing the window, his back was to her, but even from that advantage, she could see he'd lost a great deal of weight. She fought the desire to throw herself at him. Despite the stench, she inhaled composure. Quickly, she moved forward and knelt to one knee in front of him. He didn't take notice of her, even when she grasped his hand in her own.
"Matt." She breathed, "It's me, Kitty, I've come to take you … to take you out of here." Dillon made no move, showed no sign of recognition, only continued to stare. She squeezed his hand and searched his face.
Lilly stepped forward, this time her voice was apologetic, "He don't know you're here Missy, fact is, he don't know he's here."
"Has he been drugged?" She wondered out loud.
"No'm, most of them fellas has, but no need to with this one, not yet anyways." She pulled on his arm. "Come on there Abe, this nice lady wants to take you outa here." Matt slowly got up from the chair. To Kitty, Lilly said, "'Fraid he don't have no shoes, didn't have none when they brung him in, so I'm told … no need for shoes here … he's clean though. I dun kerosined him this morning, so he ain't got no extree vermin a livin' offa him - leastways not fer today. He can tend to his body needs and feed hisself, woun't win no prizes in good manners, ain't no good with a spoon, and we don't got no knifes here. he got two bullet holes in his back, one real bad one to his shoulder that still needs mindin', the one on his head is healed up, leastways on the outside it is." Matt was standing and Lilly took his hand to lead him away.
"He doesn't talk?" Kitty asked.
A soft look came over Lilly's face, she glanced toward Harris who hadn't moved into the alcove but was standing, glaring out the dirty window in the main ward as if the sight behind him was too much for his eyes to tolerate. "Once, when I first come here, he was so sick, feverish, he was … he touched my face and said, 'prit -tee. Not like a growed man, but like a little boy … I ain't never been called pretty afore … I knowed then he must be crazy in the head to say that to me."
With a slight of hand she'd learned at her mother's knee, Kitty reached into her handbag and pulled out a gold piece. She didn't know how to repay the woman for the kindness she'd shown Matt. Reaching out to shake Lilly's hand, she left the coin in her wake.
"Thankee Ma'am." Lilly whispered before placing Matt's hand in Kitty's.
Thank you Lilly, and good luck to you."
Harris turned to Kitty, his voice rough, "I ain't got all day lady. You ready, I got things to be tending to?"
She had both hands wrapped firmly around Matt's. "Yes." She replied. They walked back down the ward corridor, Matt moving slowly and stiffly. This time Kitty wasn't worried about her skirts touching the dirty floor, her only concern was for the man beside her, "Everything will be alright, once we get you out of here, you'll see." She whispered.