Shipbuilder by Marlene Dotterer
Authors: Marlene Dotterer
exams take in 1906, anyway? It wasn’t like he could take x-rays or anything.
Eventually, her private eternity ended, and the door opened. The doctor motioned her in and she anxiously looked over at Sam, resting on his couch. He managed a smile for her, but gestured to the doctor. Casey turned her glare on him, but he didn’t seem fazed.
“Dr. Altair has bronchitis, my dear. I’ve given him some medicine to take for the next two weeks and he’ll have to stay in bed for at least one week. After that, if he’s feeling better, he can start taking some sun for short periods, but stay out of the dust. Continue the toddies you’ve been giving him, they’ll do him good.”
He snapped his bag shut–he really did carry a black doctor’s bag–then gave Casey a pat on the shoulder. “He’ll be fine, I think. His lungs are in remarkable shape.” He turned toward Sam. “I’ll bet anything it’s because you say you haven’t smoked in twenty years. Nasty habit.”
He turned back to Casey. “The medicine will make him sleepy, so don’t let him go out alone. I’ll be back in a week to check on him.” His gaze was suddenly piercing. “What about you? No signs of illness?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve been fine.”
Satisfied, he reached to shake Sam’s hand. “Follow your instructions, now. I’ll speak to my brother-in-law and, once you’re better, I’ll arrange an introduction.”
“Thank you,” Sam rasped it out, already under the medicine’s influence. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Casey watched him leave, feeling an odd mixture of relief and consternation. Bronchitis in 1906 was nothing to take lightly, but Sam had medicine and she could only hope it would be effective. She turned to ask Sam his opinion of the matter, but instead, just covered his sleeping form with a sheet and settled down to read for a while.
~~~
“So what’s with the doctor’s brother-in-law?” Casey asked as she handed Sam a cup of soup a couple of days later. He was still groggy from the medicine, but was feeling a lot better, just reaching the point where he was chafing about having to stay in bed. Not yet chafing seriously, thank goodness, or Casey would be tempted to ask for overtime at the shipyard.
“Ah, the brother-in-law. Aye, that’s a good thing to come of this.” Sam sipped his soup and paused to let its heat sooth his throat, before glancing up at Casey. She had settled with her own cup at the small table near the hot plate, having changed from her “boy clothes” into a skirt and blouse. She liked to change out of her work clothes when she got home, since she had only two outfits for work and had to wear them all week.
“Good, how?”
“A job, that’s how.” Sam coughed with careful attention. He was, he’d told her, “sick of coughing” and sore from it, besides. He said his chest felt like it was filled with chain saws. “Dr. Thornton and I got on the subject of new advances in technology, due to the easy availability of electricity. One thing led to another, and I told him some of my background. His brother-in-law works for National Telephone and they’re trying to break into some R&D work. He said he’d tell him about me; see if there was work to be had, even if I couldn’t prove I had a PhD.” Sam raised his eyebrows at Casey. “I think I can convince them I know something about physics.”
Casey stared at her soup, feeling real hope stir in her heart. “That would be wonderful,” she said, not missing the tears that filled Sam’s eyes.
~~~
Three weeks later, Sam stood in the doorway of his new laboratory. Long wooden tables equipped with Bunsen burners. A steam boiler. Pipes and electrical wires running from the walls to, and between, equipment. A fan on each end of the room. Shelves of glass bottles over cabinets with locking doors. Sinks with running water.
He smiled a small, not-quite-bitter smile. Part of him was jumping for joy to have a laboratory again. The other
Eventually, her private eternity ended, and the door opened. The doctor motioned her in and she anxiously looked over at Sam, resting on his couch. He managed a smile for her, but gestured to the doctor. Casey turned her glare on him, but he didn’t seem fazed.
“Dr. Altair has bronchitis, my dear. I’ve given him some medicine to take for the next two weeks and he’ll have to stay in bed for at least one week. After that, if he’s feeling better, he can start taking some sun for short periods, but stay out of the dust. Continue the toddies you’ve been giving him, they’ll do him good.”
He snapped his bag shut–he really did carry a black doctor’s bag–then gave Casey a pat on the shoulder. “He’ll be fine, I think. His lungs are in remarkable shape.” He turned toward Sam. “I’ll bet anything it’s because you say you haven’t smoked in twenty years. Nasty habit.”
He turned back to Casey. “The medicine will make him sleepy, so don’t let him go out alone. I’ll be back in a week to check on him.” His gaze was suddenly piercing. “What about you? No signs of illness?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve been fine.”
Satisfied, he reached to shake Sam’s hand. “Follow your instructions, now. I’ll speak to my brother-in-law and, once you’re better, I’ll arrange an introduction.”
“Thank you,” Sam rasped it out, already under the medicine’s influence. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Casey watched him leave, feeling an odd mixture of relief and consternation. Bronchitis in 1906 was nothing to take lightly, but Sam had medicine and she could only hope it would be effective. She turned to ask Sam his opinion of the matter, but instead, just covered his sleeping form with a sheet and settled down to read for a while.
~~~
“So what’s with the doctor’s brother-in-law?” Casey asked as she handed Sam a cup of soup a couple of days later. He was still groggy from the medicine, but was feeling a lot better, just reaching the point where he was chafing about having to stay in bed. Not yet chafing seriously, thank goodness, or Casey would be tempted to ask for overtime at the shipyard.
“Ah, the brother-in-law. Aye, that’s a good thing to come of this.” Sam sipped his soup and paused to let its heat sooth his throat, before glancing up at Casey. She had settled with her own cup at the small table near the hot plate, having changed from her “boy clothes” into a skirt and blouse. She liked to change out of her work clothes when she got home, since she had only two outfits for work and had to wear them all week.
“Good, how?”
“A job, that’s how.” Sam coughed with careful attention. He was, he’d told her, “sick of coughing” and sore from it, besides. He said his chest felt like it was filled with chain saws. “Dr. Thornton and I got on the subject of new advances in technology, due to the easy availability of electricity. One thing led to another, and I told him some of my background. His brother-in-law works for National Telephone and they’re trying to break into some R&D work. He said he’d tell him about me; see if there was work to be had, even if I couldn’t prove I had a PhD.” Sam raised his eyebrows at Casey. “I think I can convince them I know something about physics.”
Casey stared at her soup, feeling real hope stir in her heart. “That would be wonderful,” she said, not missing the tears that filled Sam’s eyes.
~~~
Three weeks later, Sam stood in the doorway of his new laboratory. Long wooden tables equipped with Bunsen burners. A steam boiler. Pipes and electrical wires running from the walls to, and between, equipment. A fan on each end of the room. Shelves of glass bottles over cabinets with locking doors. Sinks with running water.
He smiled a small, not-quite-bitter smile. Part of him was jumping for joy to have a laboratory again. The other