“No,” Eleazar said softly. “It is too long.”
“Like my grandson,” Doc Adams said. “Gone a week now.”
Eleazar nodded.
“My daughter was wee still,” Dobbs said. “My wife can have others. My son was growing into a strong lad. If you could return him…”
He said it so casually, Browning marveled.If you could return him.As if asking for a simple favor.If you could bring a pie on Sunday, that would be lovely.Browning knew Dobbs loved his boy. But it was not the same as his own situation. Dobbs had two other children and apparently planned others to replace those lost. Browning’s wife had lost their first two in infancy, to influenza. She was past the age of bearing more. Without their son, they had nothing. No child. No grandchildren. No great-grandchildren. Only the two of them, growing old in their loneliness and their grief.
“Tell us more,” Browning said again.
“There is a price,” Doc Adams said. “Surely there must be a price.”
Eleazar looked uncomfortable. “Yes, I fear there is. I cannot perform this miracle often. That was the stricture given by the Lord Jesus Christ. We must be very careful imparting our gift, so as not to disrupt the natural order of things. I search out tragedies, such as yours, where it can be of most use. That means, however, that there is a cost, to allow my assistant and me to live frugally and continue our work.”
“How much?” Dobbs asked.
“My normal rate is one thousand dollars for a resurrection.”
Doc Adams inhaled sharply. Dobbs looked ill. Browning began quickly calculating. He had money and a few items he could sell. Yes, he could manage it. When he looked at the faces of the others, though, he felt a slight pang of guilt. A thousand dollars would be impossible for them. Men at the mines bragged of earning that much in a year.
“Most of us would not be able to afford that,” Browning said, quickly adding, “Though a few could scrape it together.”
“Understandable,” Eleazar said. “And while that is my fee, normally I am performing a single resurrection, so I require an exorbitant amount, as it is all I may earn for a year or more. However, as there are multiple resurrections required here, I did not intend to charge so much for the good people of Chestnut Hill. How many children would there be, if price were no object?”
“Seven,” Doc Adams said. “I pronounced seven poor children dead in the last four days.”
“Then my fee would be three hundred dollars apiece.”
Doc Adams exhaled in relief. Browning knew he could afford that with ease. He glanced at Dobbs as the younger man counted on his fingers.
“Would you require cash?” Browning asked. “Or would goods be sufficient?”
“If they are easily transported goods—horses, jewelry, furs—yes, we would take them for market value.”
Dobbs nodded, a slow smile creasing his broad face. He could manage that. Most could. It was not a small amount—one could purchase three good horses for as much. But at least half of the families would be able to get by and there were enough wealthier folks in town to lend the rest. That would be important, he realized. He could imagine the rancor it would bring to ChestnutHill if there were parents unable to afford the fee. Best to lend it to them, at a reasonable rate.
“We could manage it,” Browning said. “For all seven.”
“But we’d need the children back first,” Doc Adams cut in. “What you’re offering is, as you said, a miracle, and those are few and far between. We cannot simply trust you can do as you claim.”
A kernel of panic exploded in Browning’s gut. He wanted to shush the doctor. Tell him not to insult this man, who was offering a dream come true, lest he take that dream and vanish whence he came.
As soon as he thought it, though, he was shamed. Was this not what Preacher had warned of, when he said the men were coming?They’ll want to prey on our tragedy, Mayor. They’ll offer us impossible things for our hard-earned cash, and I fear the village folks are too grief-stricken to think straight.
Browning had agreed wholeheartedly…when he thought the men might only be selling some elixir of youth or happiness. Instead, they offered something even more unbelievable, and here he was, ready to leap on it without a shred of proof.
“The doctor is right,” Browning said. “We’ll need the children resurrected before we pay the full cost. We can arrange something, of course—a contract or such.”
Eleazar smiled. “I doubt any court would recognize a contract to raise the dead, but yes, of course I do not expect you to pay us without the children. In fact, I do not expect you to even agree to pay us without proof. That is why I will resurrect one child first, free of any charge. In demonstration.” He turned to Browning. “You said you had a son newly passed?”
Browning’s heart pounded so hard he could barely force a nod.
“May I ask his age?”
“He just passed his thirteenth birthday.”
“A boy on the cusp of becoming a man. I am particularly sorry for your loss then. I know the disease usually affects only the very young and the very old.”
