Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Midvalley's Serenade ❯ Orleans Orphanage ( Chapter 32 )

Orleans Orphanage

Dr. Reed had a word with me before we disembarked.

"I've given your partner some drugs to take the edge off his pain. This trip is going to take a lot out of him."

The pain killers gave Nick a false sense of strength and he put aside his pajamas and dressed himself. However much he needed the drugs to move freely without pain, it was still good to see him up and about, though it distressed me to see how loose his suit had gotten from the weight he'd lost due to fever. I helped him with his shoes and socks.

I had a lot of things to arrange yet so I put my worries aside and left my friend in the surgeon's care and saw about off-loading our belongings.

I was hashing out what to do about Nick's motorcycle with Lenny when Hot Lips joined in and volunteered to ride it out to the orphanage.

"Come on, Hot Lips," said Lenny, "Gimme a break. It's bad enough not having Midvalley. I don't want to lose our other headliner. Jason will jump at the chance and I'm sure there's got to be bus service back."

One of the ticket agents assured us that there were indeed buses out to the orphanage. If Jason made his connections right, he could be back in December in time for the next night's engagement at Fat Freddy's Grand Saloon. It had been a while since the fiddle player had ridden a motorcycle, but he wasn't all that thrilled about the idea of the bus ride back so I gave him a hundred double dollars to sweeten the deal.

I rented a van that had a fold-out bed and stowed Silvia, the Cross Punisher, and the rest of the luggage in it. Dr. Reed and I carried Nick's stretcher to the van. At first he fussed over being carried at all, grumpy as a toddler, but quieted as the drugs he'd been given began to make him drowsy.

I purchased some breakfast food, box lunches and beverages, fueled the vehicle and then headed off southwest. As the day wore on, the heat in the van magnified. None of us felt good. Ruby tried to keep Nick's temperature down with cool compresses but because he couldn't drink enough water to stay fully hydrated, he started to run a fever.

The tire that blew out some 200 iles into the trip didn't help matters. When the vehicle stopped, the breeze that come through the window stopped with it. Though we opened all the doors and windows, the interior was like an oven. It didn't take more than a half hour to change the tire, but the solar glare burned my skin and gave me a headache, and it was well after second sundown before I glimpsed the steeple of the Orleans Orphanage silhouetted against the darkening sky.

Some few minutes later, the van rolled in and I parked it in front of the main entrance. The whitewashed adobe building was roofed with terra cotta tiles and surrounded by a cluster of ten smaller outbuildings that shared the same color scheme.

A tall nun with chiseled features in a black habit and veil glided down the steps as I stepped out of the van and said, "You must be Mr. Midvalley. Your friend, Jason arrived a few hours ago to drop off Father Nick's motorcycle. Before he left, he told us to expect you, so we've prepared the infirmary. I'll show you the way. I'm Sister Luz."

I made quick introductions while we prepared to move Nick. The doctor took one end of the stretcher while I took the other, and the nun led us to a room with a couple of beds. We set Nick on one. A minute later Ruby followed us with the doctor's bag.

"It's good to have you back, Father Nick," said the nun. "It's only been a couple of weeks since we saw you last and the children were missing you, especially Annie."

"Sister Luz," Nick said in greeting, "I'd recognize that voice anywhere."

He sounded exhausted.

"Help me, Midvalley," he said and his head began to thrash a little.

"He's in pain," I said with some urgency. The doctor had a hypo ready and injected Nick with the painkiller. In a few more moments, my friend sighed in relief.

The doctor unbuttoned Nick's jacket and shirt and checked the dressing on his wound. It was inflamed. Now more than ever I was angry with myself for the stupid idea of taking him on such a long trip.

"He's gotten dehydrated again. I want to start him on another drip with the antibiotics again," said the doctor in an aside to Ruby who left immediately to bring in the equipment from the van.

I helped Nick sit up and eased him out of his jacket and shirt. I laid him back on the bed, undid the fastenings on his pants, slipped them off and then slid the covers over him. His hand reached up and caressed my neck. It was such an intimate gesture that my heart softened while my body tensed with the nun watching us. He opened his mouth as if to say something but sleep claimed him with his next breath which was a muffled snore and I took his hand off my shoulder and placed it under the sheet.

I was worried about him again and my fears of losing him sparked a desperate affection in me, a feverish lovesickness that made me long to smother him with kisses, even as he lay sleeping. I looked up and saw the nun watching me. I blushed and hoped that my sunburn hid my reaction. Whether the nun noticed or not, there was no difference in her tone when she spoke to me.

"You look very tired, Mr. Midvalley. We made up the other bed in this room for your use. I understand you'll be staying with us for a little while." She sounded friendly. If she suspected anything about my connection with Nick, she seemed to find nothing to condemn in it.

"Yes, for a little while," I said.

"There's a bathroom through that door if you want to wash off some of the road dust. If you get hungry there's a cooler down the hall with juice and some sandwiches. Tomorrow morning, you'll find that the noise levels are higher in other parts of our complex, but the children are being very quiet tonight. They're on their best behavior for Father Nick."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you for bringing him home to us. You can't imagine how grateful we are to have him back with us," she said and exited the door.

I found a wash cloth, wet it with cool water and set it on Nick's forehead as Ruby came back to set up the IV. I went out to the van and brought in a few more pieces of luggage and then took a quick shower. A small hand-written sign on the wall urged me to conserve water and I complied. I had a bite to eat afterward, put on my pajamas and went to bed. Ruby and Dr. Reed took turns checking on Nick through the night. Despite the occasional interruptions when I heard them moving around the room, I slept soundly.

The high pitched sound of a kitten mewing woke me up next morning and as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, a little girl pushed past the half-open door into the room.

"Shhh, Blackie," she cautioned the little bundle of fur and she stroked its back in an effort to quiet it. She walked over to take a look at Nick and sighed in disappointment.

"Father Nick is still asleep," she announced to the kitten. "I guess you'll have to wait to meet him."

She heaved another deeper sigh and turned to go back out again.

She had fine brown hair, and blue eyes that looked a little disappointed. She stopped in her tracks when she saw me.

"Are you sick, too," she asked me.

"No, I'm Father Nick's friend," I answered.

"Are you sure you're not sick? You're in the sick room and you look like you might be. When I was sick, my new mama brought me a kitten and then I felt better."

I smiled at the girl's faith in the curative powers of her kitten.

"What's your kitty's name?" I asked.

"His name is Blackie. Here," she said and she set a small green-eyed furball on my blanket. He didn't seem in the least frightened of me, but walked into the palm of my hand, sniffed it, sneezed and fell down. I lifted the kitten up and pulled it close to my chest. It sat butting its head against me, then scuttled up and rubbed its soft head against my chin whiskers. Not sure he liked that feeling, he arched his neck back, complained, then spied something that must have looked familiar because he shimmied up further on my chest and started to suck on my ear lobe.

"Whoa, Blackie, just what are you up to?" I chuckled. "Well, at least that shut him up for a second, but I think he wants his mama."

"His mama died," the little girl said.

"That's too bad," I said.

The girl went quiet for a moment.

The little fellow started to purr though he got no milk from my ear.

"I think he likes you," she said.

"I had a cat named Blackie once," I said.

"Oh, where is he?"

I didn't know what to say to her. He had probably long since used up his nine lives.

"I don't know. He disappeared a long time ago when my mother died."

"When my mama died, God sent me a new one. Her name is Ginny," she said. "Did he send you a new mama?"

"No," I said. "Besides I don't believe…" I started to say, but my throat tightened shut and I couldn't finish the thought. I set the kitten back down on the blanket and watched absently as it climbed over the valleys and ridges of the blanket and thought about the God that had allowed my mother to die with her brains splattered on the wall of her bedroom.

"Did God send me a new mama?" I found myself repeating what the girl had said, and in that moment felt more than just a little bitter, but she was just a kid. I didn't need ruin her hopes and dreams. I was sure she'd had enough pain in her life already.

"Don't be sad," she said. Here she'd lost her own mother but she was worried about me. What a sweet child she was.

"You must miss her very much," she said with her lower lip trembling.

She was right. I did.

"Father Nick told me that if I prayed real hard, maybe God would send me a new mama and He did. Maybe if you pray, He'll send you one to love you, too."

"Someone to love me?" I repeated dully. When I thought of love, I thought of Nick and the feeling of dullness lifted.

"Father Nick says, `The Lord works in mysterious ways,'" the little girl nodded as if she agreed with the truth of the remark and I began to smile when I thought of the irony of how the unconventional priest had come back into my life. Wouldn't it be funny if there was a God after all?

"Maybe you're right," I said to the girl. "Who knows? Maybe it was God who sent someone to love me and I just didn't know it, but I do have someone."

So many emotions washed over me in such a short period of time, I was caught between tears and laughter.

The extreme volatility of my own feelings struck me funny and I ended up laughing softly.

"Oh! What a relief!" she said with such a big sigh and funny voice, that I laughed harder.

"It is," I agreed with a chuckle. "You must be Annie."

The girl's mouth opened in amazement.

"You must be magic," she said.

`No, not magic. I met your new mama and Father Nick told me about you."

"He's a nice priest. I like him a lot."

"Me, too," I said.

I heard sheets rustle and watched as Nick sat up.

"He's awake now, Annie" I said. "You can introduce him to Blackie,"

I set the small animal in Annie's hands. She gave me a big smile, then brought it to Nick. The last thing I saw as I left for the bathroom was Blackie creeping up to settle on his chest.

By the time I got back Annie and the kitten were gone and Dr. Reed was examining Nick's wound.

"I'm pleased with the progress you've made," said the surgeon as he pulled the needles and tubes from my friend's arm. "You're rehydrated and the inflammation is under control again. I think today that you can attempt anything you think you can handle. But listen to your body and don't push too hard. From now on, walking will be your best medicine, but don't try to do too much at once. Sister Luz has supplied you with a wheel chair. You'll want to walk and rest and then walk and rest some more."

"Mr. Midvalley," he continued, "I believe you won't mind staying close by him to help him if he needs it."

"Not at all," I said.

"Then if you don't mind," continued the doctor, "I am going to join Ruby at the cafeteria for breakfast."

"Breakfast sounds good," I said.

"Ruby will bring you both something on a tray, if you wish."

"I'd rather get out of here and eat at the cafeteria," Nick said to me, "but I want to clean up first."

After Dr. Reed left, Nick went into the bathroom to take a shower. He was gone for quite a while and when he didn't come back I went to check on him. He was standing in front of the basin mirror with only a towel tied around his waist. He was trying to shave but his hands were trembling so much from the sheer effort of standing, that he couldn't hold the razor steady.

I took it from his hand, put down the lid of the toilet seat and eased him onto it. He sighed with relief. We neither of us had a word to say as I was concentrating on what I was doing so I wouldn't cut him and he was still too tired to talk, but I enjoyed the closeness, the easy way he responded to my touch. I finished shaving him, patted his face dry, then ran my palm across his cheek, to see if I'd missed a spot. He caught my wrist and looked up at me.

"What?" I asked. He pulled himself up and leaned against me, not just for support. A little tentative from the wound in his side he wrapped put his arms around me and embraced me.

"He sent someone to love me too," he said softly and tightened his hug.

"Ah, you heard," I responded and rested my chin on his shoulder.

"I didn't think you were a believer," he said.

"I believe in you," I said and brushed his cheek with my lips, felt moisture and tasted salt.

He turned his face, searched my lips with his, then broke the seal to whisper, "Thanks for bringing me home."

I could tell that the standing was getting to him again, so I gave him a shoulder to lean on back to our room. When he finished dressing, he made his way down the small flight of steps to where Sister Luz's wheel chair was parked. Nick sat down in it with a sigh of relief, and pointed out the building that housed the cafeteria.

I pushed the chair down the pathway. The infirmary had been relatively quiet, but when we turned a corner and entered a courtyard that was swarming with children laughing and shouting, I found out that Sister Luz hadn't lied about the noise levels. It was louder than the White Cat Saloon on a Saturday night.

Everywhere I looked, I saw kids in motion. There must have been at least 100 of them playing all sorts of games--hopscotch, jacks, marbles, hide-and-seek. Children bounced and shot basketballs on an asphalt court, while still others played jump rope.

Voices rang out as some of the children recognized Nick.

"Look over there, guys! Father Nick is back!" shouted a boy on the basketball court. His friends turned and waved.

"Hooray!! It's Father Nick!" called out one of the girls who was turning a jump rope, and that group yelled their greetings.

"I'm so glad you're home again, Father!" said Annie who dangled a string for Blackie to pounce on.

Every now and then Nick would see a nun and call out, "Good morning, Sister." He greeted a Sister Mary, a Sister Linda, and after that I couldn't keep all the names straight. They just waved back at him. I think Sister Luz had told them how serious Nick's wound was, and they were trying to keep the enthusiasm of the children in check, certain that too much of it would overwhelm him on his first day back.

As much fun as it was to watch the children's games, I could no longer ignore the demands of my growling stomach. I parked the wheelchair by the door of the small building that held the cafeteria and the two of us walked in.

The place was empty except for us and the aide on duty who turned out to be Annie's mom, Ginny. She served us up hot black coffee, scrambled eggs and biscuits for breakfast. After we were through, Ginny

made a point of bringing Nick an ash tray and stayed for a minute.

"Thanks," he said and lit up at once. He sighed with pleasure as he exhaled the smoke from his first drag.

"I heard how you got shot, saving Mr. Midvalley's life, just like you tried to do for Molly," the woman said as she began to clear the dirty plates from the table. "I don't think I thanked you enough the last time for what you tried to do. And then you sent me into Annie's life, and gave me some work that makes me feel needed. God bless you."

Nick flushed in embarrassment, "I was glad to do it," he said. "By the way, not to change the subject, but this is great coffee. Strong enough to float a spoon--just the way I like it."

"Thanks, but even if you're just too modest to take a compliment, it's good to have you back again, Father Nick. I hope you can stay longer than a few days this time. We lost a couple of children after you left last time," she said then walked back with her arms full through swinging door into the kitchen.

Nick's brow furrowed over her last remark.

After we left the cafeteria, Nick gave me a tour of the grounds. It touched and humbled me to see the enterprise my friend devoted so much energy to maintaining.

He guided me to a wooded copse where birds sang and a small pond rippled. I was surprised to see such a well-maintained patch of greenery.

"It's a plant offshoot that managed to survive the crash and the drought. It's over one hundred years old and we are careful to maintain its health," he said. "We have our own dew farm and a hydroponics greenhouse run by Sister Rose."

The greenhouse was the next stop. Nick entered first and I heard a woman's voice address him.

"Father Nick, it's so good to see you again," said the low melodic voice. "…even if you look like shit!"

I saw that the voice belonged to a short nun in thick horn-rimmed spectacles.

"Thanks, Sister Rose, I knew you wouldn't hide the truth from me," Nick replied, his eyes sparkling with fun.

"Hey, I like fertilizer. You know that. Maybe it was a compliment," the nun joked.

Well, here was a nun as unconventional as my priest partner.

"Introduce me to your handsome friend," she said as she peered through her thick-lensed glasses. I think I've seen him around somewhere."

"On the cover of Hornfreak Gold, maybe?" prompted Nick.

"No, that's not it," said the nun. "Wait a minute," she continued. "Let me clean these bifocals."

She cleaned the lenses with a handkerchief and took a good look at me.

"Holy crap!" she said. "It's him! Midvalley the Hornfreak! Oh, sorry about the bad language Mr. Midvalley. I'm Sister Rose. Damn, if I'd known it was you, I would have cleaned up my foul language. Too late now, I'm busted."

"It's a pleasure all the same Sister Rose," I said and shook her hand.

"Your hands are so soft," she said. `You look even better in person, and your music…is…just wonderful."

"Keep flattering me," I told her. "I can't get enough of it."

I found I liked the funny little nun.

"You're a lucky devil, Father Nick," she declared. "Does he let you carry his sax case?"

"Just give him the grand tour and maybe he'll autograph your mini-albums and answer all your questions," said Nick with his eyes rolling.

"You know I'm too shy for that," the nun said. I couldn't tell if she was serious or not. "Maybe later. I've got to reset the timer on the pea vines."

I looked at the set-up. There were three greenhouses full of fresh produce in different stages of growth-- lettuce, tomatoes, peppers, peas, string beans, and even melons.

"There's no way we could provide all the food we need without Sister Rose's assistance," Nick said in a tone of serious admiration. "She has a knack for technology and gardening. She's taught a number of our orphans enough about hydroponics that many of them have been able to support themselves by farming after leaving us to go out on their own."

The plants looked healthy and vigorous despite the fact that the greenhouse they were growing in looked a little run down.

Plywood boards patched cracked broken windows and it seemed that much of the machinery, pipes and fittings were held together with grey plastic tape.

"It looks better from a distance doesn't it, Midvalley," Nick said in a rueful tone. "It's an old facility and a testament to her ability that she can grow such fine crops with the challenges she has. All the orphanage buildings are old and the place was originally designed to provide homes for fifty children. We've got double that. The place is literally bursting at the seams. Sometimes I think that the only things that that keep it all from falling apart are duct tape and volunteers who care too much to quit."

"I heard that," piped up Sister Luz who swept up behind us. "Dr. Reed told me you were up and about so I followed your tracks."

"The shabbiness isn't our biggest problem now, Father Nick." said the nun. "I started praying for a financial miracle when I found out you were injured. This probably isn't the best time to raise this subject, but we have a problem."

"I know," said Nick. "Ginny told me something that disturbed me."

"I'm getting to that," said Sister Luz. "I don't have to tell you how much we depend on the money you send to keep us going. Lord knows, I don't begrudge the fact that you saved your partner's life, but we've lost four children to the street again in just the short time since we saw you last and picked up another 10 homeless children to care for. The $$100,000 you sent will keep us going nicely for a while, but you know what ten extra children means financially."

Nick sighed and said, "An extra 30 meals a day, an extra 210 meals a week."

"And Sister Rose can only do-"

"…so much, I know," interrupted the priest. "Who were the four children we lost? I was thinking two must be Chris and Bret…"

"That's right. Well, they're always thinking that they're old enough to fend for themselves and they don't want to be a burden. They had ties to gangs in December, and without you around to set them straight, well, they finally left one night."

"I can't be everywhere at once," said Nick. I could feel his frustration. "Bret's not even twelve yet…They weren't a burden…"

I felt his dismay.

"Who are the other two?" he asked as if he knew but didn't want to hear the answer.

"Tina's walking the streets…" said the nun.

"But, she'll just get beaten up again." He was troubled by the news.

"And the last child?" he asked with a sigh.

"Stan left because some of the other boys were making his life hell. Because he's a little different, he's had more teasing than most. Since it's hard for us to keep an eye on them at all times, well, it went beyond teasing this time. He got beaten up, but he wouldn't say who did it. Next morning, he was gone."

"That's just not right. The others shouldn't act like that." Nick's eyes flashed with anger, but then a softer light gleamed in them and he said, "I've thought of a way to get them back."

"Why would they even want to come back? Face it. Except for Stan, everyone else left because of our money problems. Chris and Bret can make pocket money in the gang. You know we don't have even have c-cents to spare for allowances, much less double dollars. And Tina had been crying over not having anything pretty to wear. It may sound stupid to you, but it was important to her. All she asked for was a hair ribbon and I told her, we couldn't afford it. She left that night over the price of a hair ribbon. Unless you've miraculously come up with another hundred thousand double dollars, I don't think you'll be able to get them back."

"Is that how much you prayed for, Sister, when you asked God for a financial miracle?" asked Nick.

"That's right, one hundred thousand double dollars. Why?"

"You should have more faith," said Nick with a smug smile. "He gave us $$200,000."

"Praise the Lord!" she whispered fervently and fumbled in the pocket of her habit for a folded piece of paper that she placed in Nick's hand. "It's our needs list. We should discuss it," she said with a determined look in her eyes.

"But my friend, Midvalley, might be bored. I don't think he expected me to be in a business meeting my first day back…" said Nick. He seemed hesitant but only because I was along, I sensed. It was thoughtful of him, but I also believed he wanted to talk about the needs list.

"I'm a businessman, Nick," I said. "I don't mind listening. Maybe I can help."

Sister Luz directed us to a small building which contained the business office, offered us both coffee, and handed Nick a clean ash tray which was as well, for somehow he had one lit already, and then she plunged into her topic with focussed intelligence. She had compassionate eyes and an expressive face that awakened my own interest in the welfare of these children. Her passion about their futures was contagious.

Nick, I could see was just as passionate. He really didn't want any other children to be brought up the way he had been, steeped in violence daily, trained to kill.

Nick's grasp of the big picture and his ability to generate practical solutions to everyday problems, impressed me. Though I knew he had a good fund of common sense, still I had always thought of him as intuitive and spontaneous. Sister Luz left the meeting with a broad smile on her face.

Nick and I left also and headed back to the copse. Nick made it most of the way on foot though our progress was slow and his energy flagged. I wheeled him the rest of the way, pleased to see another sign that he was healing.

"This orphanage comes as a bit of a revelation to me. You're surprising me again, partner," I told him. "I must admit that for quite a while I thought that you had all your money woes because of gambling debts.

"It was another kind of debt."

"I know."

"My father, taught me a lot about making practical choices. I don't make the ones he thinks I should sometimes. I know I'm a disappointment to him, but I have learned what it takes to run an orphanage with 100 kids and 15 staff members. Bottom line is-345 meals a day. About 2400 meals a week, every week.

And the children's minds are every bit as hungry as their bodies. What I love most about this place is how much it isn't like my father's academy. Unlike us, these kids won't have to grow up on a steady diet of death."

It boggled my mind that my friend had taken on the responsibility for the welfare of so many people. There were towns with smaller populations.

While Nick got up and walked about in the shade of the copse, I was thinking of the plans that Sister Luz and Nick had discussed for improving the cash flow. They planned to reduce expenses by trying to increase placement of the orphans. There was talk of switching the savings account to one with a higher rate of interest. A good portion of the financial windfall would be devoted to expanding the hydroponic greenhouse operation which would do much to decrease reliance on the more expensive outright purchase of food.

I had heard enough at the meeting to realize that even with the $$200,000 dollars, there would likely be an economic shortfall within a year no matter how they sliced it, because Nick had lost his main source of income.

Because he had risked his life to save mine, he was out of work and when he didn't work, he didn't get paid. On the few occasions I'd seen Nick use his portable confessional, I noticed that it seemed to piss people off more than it encouraged donations.

As I thought more about donations, my mind lit up with the idea that maybe I could get the band to play a benefit for the orphanage. As long as the band got paid, I was sure they wouldn't mind. A gig was a gig, after all. Then there would be the cost of renting an auditorium, security, extra sound equipment…I ticked off the expenses in my mind…publicity. Publicity!

I went from speculation to certainty that I could pull it off in that moment, but I was going to have to get to work on this right away. Lenny. I bet I could get Lenny and Dixie to help out. It was only right that I help Nick financially. I didn't have that much time left before I had to leave to start work as Legato's assistant. I looked up to see that Nick was as wrapped in thought as I had been. I didn't want to interrupt him, but his own concentration broke a moment later.

"Got something on your mind? You were concentrating awfully hard, Midvalley."

"No harder than you, but I just realized that I need to get a message to Lenny."

"Sister Luz is going into Karsted Flats in about half an hour. I'm sure she'd be happy to send it on."

"I was thinking that I really ought to drive back to December myself but I don't want to leave you."

"I don't want you to go either but I have to arrange to bring those children back here. Some of the problems that I have to solve are going to take a lot of my time."

"That and getting enough rest so that you heal completely," I reminded him. "And what I need to do will take time as well," I said.

We were both silent and just looked at each other. I knew that the welfare of the children who had left the orphanage weighed heavily on him. I wanted to help him out, not just because I felt I owed him, but because I wanted to erase the worried frown on his face and see the smile I loved again.

He limped over to the wheelchair and sat in the cool shade of a leafy maple. I settled on the ground beside him and reached for his hand. He took mine with his while we watched a light wind play on the surface of the pond. It was a peaceful moment between us that we savored though we both knew what was coming.

"It always seems to come down to this, doesn't it, Midvalley? Another separation."

"But in a way, it doesn't really matter, does it, Nick?"

In answer, he squeezed my hand just a little more warmly and when our eyes met I felt a kind of drunken ecstasy from just gazing at his. Crazy love feelings surged through me-heart fluttering, singing, dancing, while a thousand thoughts raced through my head that I would shout it from the rooftops, whisper it to the wind, sing it through Silvia, moan it when I came and groan it with my dying breath. In my mind I did all those things, heard a voice say, "I love you," and knew it was ours.

The fiery sensation of mad love consumed me, burned me to the marrow of my bones and left a husk. All the rest of me was his as he was mine.

The breeze that stroked my hair was his hand.

"No, it doesn't really matter, not at all."

To Be Continued