Big Sisterly Concern

Ben fell sick in the heat of the summer. He didn't feel that sick, just slow and a tad achey. But he looked mighty peaked, and his mother was alarmed. When Doctor Gregson drove all the way out to the farm in his Lincoln to make a house call, he gave them medicine for Ben, and ordered two weeks of strict bed rest. "Keep him in bed, keep him still, keep him quiet," said the doctor, "give him his medicine, and do all that you can to make him feel comfortable. And in two or three weeks he'll be good as any other ten year old boy."

"I'll pay for that medicine..." Ben's father awkwardly began.

"Whenever you can would be fine," said the doctor. It was the summer of 1934, and Ben's father was a farmer out here in the middle of Nebraska... Doctor Gregson was running a tab for many of his patients. With another family he might have accepted eggs in payment, but the doctor suspected this family needed all their cream and eggs to barter with in town.

So Ben was moved into the spare bedroom, downstairs just off the living room, on the north side of the house where it would be cooler. Heavy curtains were drawn on the tall narrow windows. Ben lay there in shadowed dimness in midday. He was still, he was quiet, he took his medicine. But like any ten year old boy who has to lie in bed day and night, he did not feel at ease.

Then Ben's oldest sister Jean silently came in to sit with him. She sat in a straight backed wooden chair beside his bed. She sat there, and soon with an air of big sisterly concern she took to holding his hand.

Jean held Ben's hand firmly in her own huge strong farmgirl hand. Jean was nineteen, tall, sturdy, dark blonde hair, big broad shoulders, and she had absolutely gigantic farmgirl hands. Big long broad smooth womanly hands, strong from farm work, and huge. Jean had larger hands even than their father -- their father, who had been heard to mutter, "Seven kids, five of 'em girls.... and my strongest farm worker is Jean." Jean held Ben's left hand engulfed in her gigantic smooth right hand, and she sat there in the dim light, holding his hand by the hour.

Jean took to spending all day sitting by Ben's bedside, holding his hand with a look of big sisterly concern. Ben slept at times. At times he awoke to find his hand firmly enwrapped inside Jean's, and one time he awoke to hear their parents out in the kitchen.

"One piece of bad luck after another! Blasted drought, near as bad as last year," said their father. "And now Ben is down in bed for at least two weeks --"

"You know what the doctor said, he has to rest to get well."

"I understand that. But what I don't understand is why Jean has to sit there by his side all the blessed day long..."

"Father, the doctor said comfort him. Jean is in there comforting her little brother. That's Jean for you. We're in a lull right now, we've got enough pairs of hands around here, we don't need everyone working every hour of the day... As long as Jean does her chores in the morning, let her sit in there with Ben the rest of the day. Comfort, the mind is powerful, important to getting better. Let Molly and Penny and Carol and John handle the farm work, even Emily can help. And then both Ben and Jean will be able to help when it comes time to get the oats in..."

"Hmmmm... as usual, you're right..."

Then Ben drifted off to sleep again. When he awoke he found that Jean had her other hand, her left hand, over his forehead. Jean was holding his hand and covering his forehead, as if by touch her big sisterly concern could be directly transmitted to him and transformed into healing.

All of a sudden Ben did something he himself didn't understand. Ben reached up with his free hand, and he took hold of Jean's hand over his forehead, and he pulled her hand down until it was in front of his mouth and lower face.

And then Ben pressed on the big smooth back of Jean's huge hand, until he had her hand pressed in place on his mouth.

"Unhhhhh?" Jean had been daydreaming. Now she saw how her little brother had placed her left hand over his mouth. "Would that make you feel better, Ben? If I held your mouth?"

Without waiting for a reply Jean pressed her left hand down very firmly, and she enfolded Ben's mouth and cheeks in the strong grip of her large warm smooth strong farmgirl hand. A smile spread across Jean's face: her intuition could sense something very right, like waves of comfort radiating from Ben.

Ben lay there in the dim afternoon light, visibly more relaxed and at ease, with his big sister holding his left hand in her right hand, and his mouth firmly in her left hand. And Jean continued to hold Ben like this for the rest of the afternoon, for hours, until supper time.

Jean brought Ben's supper in for him on a tray, and he sat up in bed and ate while Jean hovered over him in big sisterly concern. After supper Jean waited and then carried Ben's bedpan out, it would be too much exertion for Ben to go to the outhouse out back behind the house. Then Jean sat down in the wooden chair at his bedside. And this time, without waiting, Ben reached over and took Jean's big left hand, and he pressed her hand in place over his mouth.

"That really does comfort you, doesn't it?" said Jean. "Well, the doctor said to comfort you, it'll help you get better faster." And with that Jean clamped her huge smooth warm farmgirl hand tight over Ben's mouth. And she sat there beside the bed, holding Ben's mouth.

The boy's eyes looked over at his big sister. "Mmmmmmmh, hmmmmmm mmmmm mmmmm hmmmmmmm... Mmmmmm, mmmmmmmhh hmmmmmm mmmmmmmm!"

Jean's eyes twinkled in a big sisterly mix of sternness and amusement. "The doctor said to keep you quiet, too! Well, as you can see, I'm very capable of holding my hand very tightly over your mouth, and now you can't talk at all any more!"

"Mmmmmmm, hhhhmmm mmmmmmmmmmmhhh..." Ben lay back, afloat in a gentle warm ocean of serenity, feeling deeply at peace to have Jean's huge warm strong farmgirl hand pressed down oh so firmly over the entire lower half of his face. Gigantic sisterly hand pressed over his mouth, like a warm tight living blanket, a security blanket, enfolding his mouth and cheeks and jaw, keeping his mouth pressed tightly shut... Ben felt so powerfully comforted having her hand over his mouth, he felt such concern from his big sister Jean...

Jean kept holding her hand over Ben's mouth all through the evening. Out in the living room a kerosene lamp was lit, and the radio was on, powered by a lead battery charged by a windcharger outside the house. In the daytime the radio would bring in the farm report from Valentine or North Platte; at night it drew in stations from Lincoln and Omaha and Cheyenne and beyond. Ben always loved listening to the radio. At one point in the evening Ben heard President Roosevelt talking on the radio. Ben listened. But he couldn't speak, because his sister Jean had her large firm farmgirl hand pressed down hard over his mouth.

Finally, late in the evening, Jean bid Ben good-night, and she removed her hand from his mouth. Ben could hear the stairs creaking as Jean made her way upstairs to the bedroom she shared with their sister Molly.

The next morning Jean brought Ben's breakfast to him in the spare bedroom. Ben knew Jean had already been up, early, and had been out to do her chores, and then had come in for a big hearty breakfast. Ben ate his breakfast, though he didn't have as big an appetite as when he was well.

After Jean took his tray back out to the kitchen, she returned to the bedroom and sat down on the chair beside the bed. And this time, before Ben even reached for her hand, Jean reached over and clamped her huge strong big long broad farmgirl hand tight over Ben's mouth. And she just sat there, keeping the bottom half of Ben's face squeezed in the firm grip of her hand.

"Mmmmmmmmmh! Mmmmh, hmmmmmmmm!"

Jean chuckled at her little brother making muffled noises from beneath the palm of her hand. And then... Ben lay his head back on his pillow, he lay there staring up at the ceiling, with Jean's big sisterly hand fixed fast in place over his mouth. And Jean kept on holding her hand over Ben's mouth through the morning hours, there in the dimness of the spare bedroom, thinking to keep him relaxed and at ease with this funny new big sisterly mode of physical comfort.

Getting on toward the forenoon their mother entered the spare bedroom, carrying some clothing items to store away in the wardrobe. Coming in it seemed not quite to register on her. But on her way back out of the room, their mother paused and stared, her mouth agape in a big O of surprise, at the sight of Ben's eyes peeking out above the big creamy white expanse of Jean's hand clamped firmly over Ben's lower face.

"Oh, are you sure that's okay, what you're doing to your brother... holding your hand over his mouth?" Their mother was trying, as was her wont, to speak diplomatically.

"Oh Mother," said Jean, "the doctor said to comfort him, and this is the best way I know how to comfort Ben and keep him at ease. You see, at first I just kept holding his hand, but then it was Ben's own idea for me to cover his mouth instead. And you can see how relaxed and peaceful he is now, with my hand over his mouth. I think the firm warmth and the touch are sort of like prayer and the laying on of hands in the Bible; holding Ben's mouth is a very direct and personal way of showing my concern, and my feeling is it will help him to get well faster."

"Oh, but with your hand over his mouth Ben isn't able to speak."

"True. But Ben doesn't need to be able to talk right now, so much as he needs to feel my concern in a warm, firm, and very direct way. And my hand over his mouth is certainly warm, firm, and direct."

Their mother looked flummoxed. "Ben, is it all right with you, to have your sister holding your mouth?"

Ben made a few soft unintelligible noises from behind Jean's hand, and gestured in a way which could be taken to mean that it was fine with him.

"Well, okay then..." Their mother turned and left the room, leaving Jean to keep her big farmgirl hand clamped over Ben's mouth.

And that noon Ben overheard his mother from the kitchen, telling his father about Jean's wondrous new method of treatment: "And you know, Father, Jean figured it all out, she figured that the deepest way to express her concern to Ben would be to keep her hand pressed firmly over his mouth. It makes sense, it is a very warm and firm and direct way of getting across to him. That's Jean for you, always such a tenderly concerned girl; for nineteen years old she's got terribly deep insights, that girl's so deep she frightens me sometimes."

Ben lay there in bed, listening to all this, unable to speak, with his sister Jean's huge farmgirl hand clamped warm and very, very firm over his mouth in big sisterly concern.

On into the afternoon sister Molly tiptoed into the spare bedroom to see how Ben was doing. Seventeen year old Molly stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes opened wide, her jaw dropped, and then Molly put her long sturdy fingers up over her mouth. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh... Jean, I thought Mother was joshing, but it's for real... you really are sitting here keeping your hand over Ben's mouth...What in Sam Hill are you doing, holding Ben's mouth?"

"Mmmmmmmmh, hhmmmm mmmmmmm hmmmmmmm... mmmmmm hhhmmmm, mmmmmmmmmh!" Ben made stifled groaning noises as he reached out his hands in a pleading gesture toward his big sister Molly.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh!! Jean, you've got your hand pressed so hard over Ben's mouth, he can't even get a single word out! What's this all about?"

"Molly, listen, the doctor said to comfort Ben. And I've discovered that holding my hand over Ben's mouth is a wonderful way of comforting and relaxing him. A warm firm direct way of keeping him wrapped up and comforted in my grip. I think it's helping Ben get better soon."

"Ohhhhh, Jean... you mean Ben likes the way you're holding his mouth?"

"He can't get enough of it. I've been holding his mouth purnear all day long, except when he needs to eat. Here, you give it a try, spell me for a while. Come on, Ben won't bite!"

So Molly took over while Jean took a break. Seventeen year old Molly sat down in the straight backed wooden chair at Ben's bedside, and she clamped her big smooth warm strong farmgirl hand down firmly over Ben's mouth. Molly's hands weren't as huge as Jean's -- nobody had hands as huge as Jean's -- but still, Molly had unusually large work strengthened farmgirl hands. And Molly squeezed her fingers and the heel of her hand in tight on Ben's cheeks as she held his mouth. "There. How's that suit you?"

"Mmmmmmmmmhh! Mmmmmmhh, hmmmmmmm!" Ben's eyes radiated well being as he looked out above the large smooth back of Molly's tight gripping hand over his mouth.

And Molly's face melted into a warm grin, with an impish twinkle in her eyes.

Over the days to come, ten year old Ben received ample care and concern in the form of a big sisterly hand kept firmly over his mouth. Most of the time eldest sister nineteen year old Jean sat there beside the bed, keeping her huge warm smooth farmgirl hand fastened hard over Ben's mouth. But sometimes seventeen year old Molly took a turn holding Ben's mouth. And sometimes fifteen year old Penny and fourteen year old Carol helped out too, expressing their big sisterly concern in the warm direct form of a hand kept pressed down firmly over Ben's mouth. Ben's big sisters held his mouth hour after hour, all day long, day after day.

One day Doctor Gregson came out to the farm to check up on Ben, a cloud of dust billowing out behind him as he drove his Lincoln up the dirt road. The doctor came into the spare bedroom carrying his doctor bag with him. And there in the dim light Ben lay in bed, his sister Jean sitting beside the bed, and Jean's gigantic smooth alabaster farmgirl hand engulfing the entire bottom half of Ben's face. Ben's eyes looked out at the doctor above the smooth expanse of his sister's huge hand.

"So how's he been doing?" asked the doctor.

"Oh, I think Ben's getting better," said Jean. "We've been keeping him comfortable, I've been sitting here with him like this most of the time all day long."

"Hmmmm," went the doctor. He listened to Ben's heart through a stethoscope. Then he tapped Ben's chest here and there with a little rubber tomahawk. Ben's eyes watched all this, peering out silently above his big sister's huge firm mouth holding hand.

"Okay, I need to hear Ben cough, so if you could please take your hand away from his mouth..."

With obvious reluctance Jean removed her hand from her brother's mouth. He coughed for the doctor, and answered a few questions. As soon as they were through, Jean put her huge farmgirl hand back tight over Ben's mouth.

"Well," said Doctor Gregson, "Ben is coming along splendidly, indeed better than I would've expected after a week. He's not there yet, but I'd say another week of strict bed rest and he ought to be mended." The doctor looked quizzically at Ben's face, with Jean's big hand over Ben's mouth, and then he turned and looked at Jean. "Uh, Jean, if I may ask, is there some specific reason why you're keeping your hand over your brother's mouth?"

"Oh," said Jean, "I just discovered, this is a very warm and direct way of showing Ben my concern, if I keep his mouth held very firmly in my hand. He's so peaceful and calm when I'm holding his mouth, that I've been holding his mouth pretty much all day every day. I think my hand over his mouth is one reason why Ben is coming along so well."

"Hmmmmm, yes," replied the doctor, "physical touch, physical contact, that can be important in healing. Psychological factors we don't yet ken. Well, if it's helping your brother and calming him, I'd say keep holding your hand over his mouth, by all means!"

A minute later from out in the living room Ben could overhear Doctor Gregson asking his mother, "What in the world is that girl doing, keeping her hand fastened over the boy's mouth like that?!!..... Well, no, it can't hurt, as long as he's able to breathe... Well, yes, from a psychological viewpoint it may do him a world of good if it's comforting him, from that end I'd say let her keep it up..."

As for Ben, he lay there in bed, Jean's mammoth warm farmgirl hand held down with unyielding firm pressure over his mouth. Ben felt so deeply at peace beneath Jean's hand, as he began drifting off to sleep once more...

The next week passed slowly, Ben lying there in bed, Jean expressing her big sisterly concern by holding her hand over Ben's mouth for hours on end, Molly and Penny and Carol helping out with holding Ben's mouth from time to time. In the evenings Ben would lie there in bed with a big sister's hand clamped over his mouth, listening to Jack Benny or the Lone Ranger on the radio from the living room. When Doctor Gregson made a house call again in a week, he pronounced Ben cured.

And soon Jean and Ben were out there in the field, toiling beneath the hot Nebraska sun, behind the horse drawn wagon, helping to get the oats in. Ben was his old self. Jean's muscles rippled in her arms and broad shoulders as she lifted heavy bundles of oats into the wagon.

There was just one lingering aftereffect of Ben's illness and Jean's efforts to help him. For a long time after, sometimes in the evening Ben would sit there next to his big sister, and Jean would keep her gigantic smooth strong farmgirl hand clamped very, very firmly over Ben's mouth. It seems Ben had become very much attached to this quirky expression of Jean's big sisterly concern.