Cherry Ames, Veteran's Nurse by Helen Wells

Author:Helen Wells
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Springer Publishing Company
Published: 2007-03-12T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER VIII

Week End

JIM WAS TO HAVE HAD CHARLIE’S ROOM, FOR OVER Saturday night. But the stairs were a long winding flight, too much for Jim to manage yet on crutches. The downstairs bedroom, seldom used, was hastily made ready. Mr. Ames showed Jim his room.

Mrs. Ames took Cherry aside in the living room and whispered:

“What does Jim like to do?”

Cherry remembered the woodworking. “He likes to make and fix things. Any chores around the house, lady?”

“And what does Jim like to eat?”

“Anything—and lots of it.”

Mrs. Ames looked relieved. “Then my only problem is Velva. Velva!” she called. “Velva has been serving us our meals as if we were all going to a fire,” Mrs. Ames explained to Cherry. “To call us to dinner, she simply yells. I must ask her not to be so strenuous, with a convalescent around.”

Velva hulked in the dining-room doorway, tied into an apron. She seemed even bigger and brawnier than Cherry remembered her—quite capable of tossing the dining-room table out the window if they did not like the way she served. Cherry said hello, and Mrs. Ames explained that a little less nerve-racking manner would be appreciated.

“For instance,” Mrs. Ames suggested gently, “when dinner is ready, just come to the door and say, ‘Dinner is served.’”

Velva snorted. “That’s too fancy for me. I ain’t no sissy Easterner.”

“Very well, then say ‘Dinner is ready.’”

“If you see me comin’, you know dinner is ready!”

Mrs. Ames pleaded. “Couldn’t you just say ‘Dinner’?”

Velva looked grumpy. “What’s the matter with me shoutin’ ‘Chow!’” She yelled “Chow!” so loudly that Cherry held on to the arm of her chair. Mr. Ames and Jim coming into the living room looked startled.

“Velva, this is Sergeant Jim Travers. He’ll be here tonight and Sunday.”

Jim smiled and Velva clucked at him, “Just exactly like my own kid brother only he’s dark and you’re medium, and he’s short and you’re tall, and he’s a corporal and—”

“—and the sergeant is hungry,” Cherry interrupted, laughing.

Velva looked sternly at Cherry and smiled at Jim. “Down to Turkey Run, we know all about boys being hungry.” She withdrew.

“Turkey Run?” Jim said, easing himself into a chair. “Is that a real name?” He was much more at home here than Cherry had dared hope for. She looked gratefully at her father.

“Certainly it’s a real name, and a real place,” said Mr. Ames. “We get all our poultry from there. Speaking of funny names, we have here in town a Justice Stifler—a Dr. Slaughter—a dentist named Grind—”

“—the Realistic Beauty Shoppe,” Mrs. Ames supplied.

“And that lunch counter,” Cherry put in, “with the sign, ‘Eat here before we both starve!’”

Jim grinned. “In my town, there’s a dog and cat hospital with a butcher shop right next door.”

Cherry groaned and sang under her breath, “Put another dog in the sau-sage ma-chine …”

“Cherry! Jim!” Mrs. Ames had turned slightly green. “Considering that we have hot dogs in the kitchen—Good ones, too, that I bought at the Grab It.”

“At the what, ma’am?” Jim asked incredulously.

“A grocery named Grab It Here,” Mrs.

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