Read Online The Waltons 3 - The Easter Story by Robert Weverka - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robert Weverka
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we’ll look forward to seeing you. You think you’ll be free for the Halloween dance?”
John-Boy had never experienced such forthright friendliness. Especially from pretty girls. “Well, yes, I reckon.”
“OK, then it’s a date. I’ll see you in October.”
“OK—uh, thanks for the brochures.”
“You’re welcome.”
John-Boy hesitated at the door. The idea had been brooding in his mind for some time now—ever since that night Jason, Ben, and Jim-Bob came to his room. But he wasn’t sure he had the nerve to do it. Or if it would even lead to anything.
“What’s the matter?” the girl smiled.
“Well, I was just wondering. Do you have a medical school here?”
“A medical school. I would have guessed you were more of an Arts and Humanities type.”
“You’re right. I’m interested in a career in Journalism. But my mother’s sick, and I wanted to see if I could get to talk to somebody.”
“Your mother’s sick? How?”
“The polio.”
“Oh. Then you should see Dr. Miller in Experimental Medicine. Just go out the door, turn left and keep walking. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks. Thanks a lot.”
John-Boy followed the directions to a building that was newer than the one he had just left. In the lobby a listing of faculty members directed him to a small third-floor office where he found the door open. The man behind the desk looked huge, with muscular shoulders, disheveled hair and his necktie loosened and hanging crooked. He was only about thirty-five, John-Boy guessed, and he was scrawling notes across what looked like students’ papers. John-Boy knocked lightly.
“Sir? Do you mind if I come in?”
The man didn’t look up. “Door’s open, you can come in. Door’s shut, you can’t.”
John-Boy moved hesitantly to the desk. “My name is John Walton, sir. I’m not a student here.”
The man continued marking papers. “Well, you’re not alone, Walton. I’ve got a lot of people coming to my classes who aren’t students either.” He gave John-Boy a sharp glance. “Sit down, you’re making me nervous.”
John-Boy sat down. “I just wanted to ask you a couple questions, sir. The girl at the admissions office told me you might know something about polio.”
“She did, huh.”
“Yes, sir. And I wanted to find out if there are any new treatments, or any kind of medicine that can help somebody who’s got it.”
“Who’s got it?”
“My mother.”
The man stopped marking papers and gave him a long look. “What’s your name again?”
“Walton, sir. John Walton.”
“And you say you’re not a student here?”
“No sir. I’m still in high school. But I’d like to come here some day—if we can get the money together. I thought you might talk to me anyway. You see—”
“Where you from?”
“Walton’s Mountain. It’s a little—”
The man grinned. He tossed his pen down and sat back. “Walton’s Mountain!” He laughed. “You don’t have to tell me where that is. My wife and I drive up there every fall to see the turning leaves. Mr. Walton, I want to thank you for giving us both a great deal of pleasure.”
John-Boy relaxed a little. He’d never seen such a stern and gruff man undergo such an abrupt change. “Well, I don’t reckon I can take credit for the turnin’ leaves. But the dogwoods and red-buds’ll be bloomin’ soon. And the trees freshenin’ green. Springtime.”
“I know. I come from Crabtree Falls.”
John-Boy nodded. “Well, anyway, as I was sayin’, my mother got polio about a week ago. She’s over the fever now, but I think she’s still got a lot of pain. I mean she tries to be cheerful and hide it from us, but sometimes—”
Dr. Miller was nodding. “She’s in pain, all right. And it’s going to hurt for a long time. Tell me the details. How long did the fever last, and how much can she move now?”
John-Boy told him everything he knew, including her efforts to sit up by herself. Dr. Miller listened thoughtfully,
John-Boy had never experienced such forthright friendliness. Especially from pretty girls. “Well, yes, I reckon.”
“OK, then it’s a date. I’ll see you in October.”
“OK—uh, thanks for the brochures.”
“You’re welcome.”
John-Boy hesitated at the door. The idea had been brooding in his mind for some time now—ever since that night Jason, Ben, and Jim-Bob came to his room. But he wasn’t sure he had the nerve to do it. Or if it would even lead to anything.
“What’s the matter?” the girl smiled.
“Well, I was just wondering. Do you have a medical school here?”
“A medical school. I would have guessed you were more of an Arts and Humanities type.”
“You’re right. I’m interested in a career in Journalism. But my mother’s sick, and I wanted to see if I could get to talk to somebody.”
“Your mother’s sick? How?”
“The polio.”
“Oh. Then you should see Dr. Miller in Experimental Medicine. Just go out the door, turn left and keep walking. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks. Thanks a lot.”
John-Boy followed the directions to a building that was newer than the one he had just left. In the lobby a listing of faculty members directed him to a small third-floor office where he found the door open. The man behind the desk looked huge, with muscular shoulders, disheveled hair and his necktie loosened and hanging crooked. He was only about thirty-five, John-Boy guessed, and he was scrawling notes across what looked like students’ papers. John-Boy knocked lightly.
“Sir? Do you mind if I come in?”
The man didn’t look up. “Door’s open, you can come in. Door’s shut, you can’t.”
John-Boy moved hesitantly to the desk. “My name is John Walton, sir. I’m not a student here.”
The man continued marking papers. “Well, you’re not alone, Walton. I’ve got a lot of people coming to my classes who aren’t students either.” He gave John-Boy a sharp glance. “Sit down, you’re making me nervous.”
John-Boy sat down. “I just wanted to ask you a couple questions, sir. The girl at the admissions office told me you might know something about polio.”
“She did, huh.”
“Yes, sir. And I wanted to find out if there are any new treatments, or any kind of medicine that can help somebody who’s got it.”
“Who’s got it?”
“My mother.”
The man stopped marking papers and gave him a long look. “What’s your name again?”
“Walton, sir. John Walton.”
“And you say you’re not a student here?”
“No sir. I’m still in high school. But I’d like to come here some day—if we can get the money together. I thought you might talk to me anyway. You see—”
“Where you from?”
“Walton’s Mountain. It’s a little—”
The man grinned. He tossed his pen down and sat back. “Walton’s Mountain!” He laughed. “You don’t have to tell me where that is. My wife and I drive up there every fall to see the turning leaves. Mr. Walton, I want to thank you for giving us both a great deal of pleasure.”
John-Boy relaxed a little. He’d never seen such a stern and gruff man undergo such an abrupt change. “Well, I don’t reckon I can take credit for the turnin’ leaves. But the dogwoods and red-buds’ll be bloomin’ soon. And the trees freshenin’ green. Springtime.”
“I know. I come from Crabtree Falls.”
John-Boy nodded. “Well, anyway, as I was sayin’, my mother got polio about a week ago. She’s over the fever now, but I think she’s still got a lot of pain. I mean she tries to be cheerful and hide it from us, but sometimes—”
Dr. Miller was nodding. “She’s in pain, all right. And it’s going to hurt for a long time. Tell me the details. How long did the fever last, and how much can she move now?”
John-Boy told him everything he knew, including her efforts to sit up by herself. Dr. Miller listened thoughtfully,
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