Saving the World by Julia Álvarez Read Free Book Online Page B

affected with the cowpox, milkmaids would catch the infection. Small blisters erupted on their hands, which disappeared after a few days. Nothing more. However, when the next wave of smallpox hit their villages, they were spared, as if they had already had the smallpox itself.” Our visitor beat his fingers on the table as he spoke this curious observation. His eyes glowed with feverish intensity. I had never heard a scientific matter described so passionately, so simply. The doctors next door rarely deigned to explain themselves. Andwhen they did, their explanation might as well have been in English for all I understood of it.
    â€œHaving observed this intriguing phenomenon, Dr. Jenner decided to experiment,” our visitor went on. “He infected a boy who had never had the smallpox with the cowpox virus from a milkmaid’s blister, a small scratch on his arm. The boy manifested no ill effects, a mere vesicle on the spot where he had been scratched. Weeks later, Dr. Jenner exposed the boy to the actual smallpox virus—” Don Francisco stopped as if to allow me to feel the drama of that moment. Indeed, I found I was holding my breath. “And the result was: nothing happened. Again, it was as if the boy had already had the smallpox himself!” Don Francisco rapped his fingers on the table again. “Imagine, Doña Isabel. A cure for the smallpox! A saving grace to mankind! Indeed, His Holiness the Pope has given his blessings to this vaccine. But Spain has been slow to follow. Seven years since Jenner’s discovery and many of our authorities have yet to adopt this miraculous procedure!” Don Francisco sighed. “Forgive me,” he said. “I do tend to carry on.”
    The time for evensong was approaching; the boys’ supper would follow, a market-day treat at each plate. It was the season of figs. Perhaps we would have figs or grapes. That would be lovely as each child would then receive at least a handful. Benito would have to be coaxed out from under my bed. But I felt no impatience. I was rapt with our visitor’s story. It touched upon my past and would, I sensed, soon bear upon my future. “Please, go on,” I urged.
    â€œAs I have explained, the vaccination procedure is quite simple: a scratch, a drop of the limpid fluid, a vesicle forms, ripens, and by the tenth day is ready to be harvested and used to vaccinate any number of potential victims.”
    So much suffering, and the solution so simple! God works in mysterious ways, and this doctor Jenner had figured them out. What would Father Ignacio say to that? He had advised me of the error of my continued questioning. But God had given us powers of observation and reason. Was it wrong then to use them?
    â€œEverywhere His Majesty’s subjects have been dying for lack of thissimple cure. But most especially in the colonies: natives, Creoles, men, women, children cry out for help from across the seas.” Our visitor stopped for a moment and motioned out the window, as if we might hear those plaintive voices, growing in number, a roar of anguish from God’s own children. Our city stood at the end of a peninsula, the last point of Spanish soil before the waters stretched halfway around the world to where New Spain began. In good weather, I liked to take the boys on outings to the lighthouse, waiting below as they climbed the stairs of the Tower of Hercules. Alone, I would listen to the waves breaking on the rocky coast. Voices were calling from those waters. I stood very still, straining my ears like a child at night who hears murmurs from another room. But I could not make out what the voices were saying. Now I knew.
    â€œWe must help them, Doña Isabel. We must make this simple remedy available to the least of God’s children. We must not rest until this mighty work is done!”
    My heart was beating wildly.
We?
    â€œOur great Spain can lead the way. We can save mankind from this