Chapter 3: Doctors, Merchants, and Unruly Spawn
Author's Note: Funny thing about ages...
In season 3, Tom Ellis had just turned 40. The guy who played Mr. Edwards in Little House on the Prairie had been 40 when it first aired, and the guy playing Dr. Baker was 45.
Isaiah insisted on taking me to be seen by a Doctor Hiram Baker as soon as he stopped the wagon in front of a two-story building that housed a Post Office, Telegrapher, and Hotel.
He tied the horses to a low crossbar attached to the building's porch and then practically dragged me around to the back. Apparently the doctor's office was in the rear of that same building.
My head felt fine, but there was still a visible wound with significant bruising; more evidence that it'd been inflicted by one of my damned siblings.
"Howdy, Doc," Isaiah said as he pushed the door open, "got a patient for ya. This here's Dante Lutherfud, he wandered into my camp last night an' been bashed on the head real good."
The doctor had to be pushing at least seventy, from what I could tell. "Alright, Mister Lutherfud, let me take a look." Gesturing toward an uncomfortable looking wooden chair, he smiled. "Have a seat there."
At least he had enough forethought to position me in front of a window with plenty of sunlight coming through it, otherwise I would've wondered what he expected to actually see.
"So, how old are you, son?" Dr. Baker asked, peering into my eyes. "Twenty, twenty-five?"
"What? No, I'll be forty in November." Well, at least according to the business licenses and identification forms that I'd bought seven years ago. Bloody Hell, I'm used to being mistaken as somewhat younger than that, but not by almost two full decades.
"I think you may be having some memory lapses," the good doctor chuckled, "Mister Edwards there is forty and I'm forty-six," he said. "Until you know for certain, let's just say you're about twenty-five for the time being."
Forty and Forty-six?! Good Dad, the poor bastards! Clearly these poor men had never heard of moisturizing. I couldn't help but stare at them in disbelief. "You've got to be joking."
He didn't say anything, just pushed my head forward and pushed my hair away from the scalp injury. "Whoever did this obviously didn't expect you to get up again."
"That's what I was thinkin'," Isaiah said. "Last night he said that the last thing he recollects was talkin' to a lady friend of his, an' then wakin' up by the road." He paused. "I'm gonna go over an' talk ta Lars an' see about gettin' some folks together ta go look for where he got dumped at, see if there's tracks."
"I'll meet you over at the mill as soon as I'm done examining our young friend here," Dr. Baker said as he prodded at my scalp.
"Ow, that bloody hurts!"
"Do you know if the young lady's still out there, Edwards?"
"No," Isaiah sounded hesitant, "Mister Lutherfud here weren't sure exactly how long ago that was, an' he said that he didn't see no signs of her when he looked. All he knows fer certain is that he's headin' fer California an' didn't know he's in Minnesota."
Dr. Baker was quiet as he continued to examine my injury and cause me more unnecessary pain by poking at it.
"Would you stop doing that!?" I tried batting his hands away, but the bastard ignored me.
"I need to make sure there's no skull fracture under the bruising," he said, clamping one hand on top of my head to hold me still.
"That's what X-ray imaging is for!"
"Ex-what?"
Right, when had medical imagery and whatnot been discovered, again? "Err… never mind. It must be some sort of European technological discovery you lot have yet to learn about."
"Mmm-hmm." Dr. Baker clearly didn't believe that.
My next step, obviously, was to find out what technology was available in order to avoid coming across as completely unhinged.
"It doesn't look like you'll need any stitches or bandaging, but I'll need to have you take it easy for the next few days."
Easy for him to say. "About that," I said, "I'll need to find employment and lodging of some sort if I'm to stay here for any length of time."
Isaiah cleared his throat. "Ya could help me unload the freight wagon fer Nels ta pay fer a night in the hotel."
Dr. Baker frowned. "That's the exact opposite of what I said, Edwards; the man needs rest, not strenuous labor."
"Oh yeah."
Mrs. Snider, the woman who ran the Post Office and sent telegraphs, was also in charge of running the hotel. She was kind enough to allow me a room and meals for three days.
Of course, this meant I would owe Hiram once he deemed me well enough to do anything, and I absolutely loathe being indebted to anyone.
I took the rest of the day to walk around and familiarize myself with the town, such as it was. I needed to figure out what sort of temporary line of business would be best to pursue.
Even my Dad-given ability to draw out desires would only help to set up a foundation; having a marketable skill or ability to acquire any wanted goods showed that there was an intent to follow through.
For a millisecond I toyed with the idea of setting myself up as a resident sheriff, or whatever their so-called law enforcement were called. Walnut Grove evidently didn't have one.
Without Chloe, however, that soured rather quickly. Also, with no Miss Lopez on hand, how was I to even know which sort of 'evidence' to look for?
For all I knew, the town may very well only have some illiterate version of a Malcom Graham as their sole enforcement officer.
No thank you.
After having a conversation with Isaiah and Hiram at the sawmill I was introduced to Lars Hansen, Nels Oleson, and Hans Dorfler. They'd been preparing their horses and gear for the search party.
Lars owned the mill and had founded the settlement; Nels owned the Mercantile, which was apparently the only place to purchase anything; and Hans was the local blacksmith and owned the livery stable. They asked me a few more questions about Chloe and what I could remember after I'd woken up from being accosted.
I was starting to get another headache so, of course, someone decided that it would be a wonderful idea to start clanging a handbell. Seconds later, a wild pack of small humans ran past whilst raucously shrieking. Where in the bloody hell had they come from?