Free A Little Bit of Charm by Mary Ellis

older girls Donna had seen, these wore no bonnets.
    â€œHello,” she called.
    No one spoke. The oldest, a girl of around seven, smiled shyly.The siblings watched with wide-eyed fascination as Donna climbed the steps. “Is your mom home?” Her second query received the identical reaction as the first. Donna rapped on the front door, keeping an eye on the threesome.
    Within a few minutes a thin boy appeared behind the screen door. “You’ve come to buy eggs? We’re already sold out. I took the sign down by the road.” He looked guilty as though personally responsible for a disappointed customer.
    â€œNo, I’m not here for eggs. I need to speak to your parents—to your mother and father.” She wasn’t sure why she’d explained the word “parents” because the youth spoke perfect English.
    The boy considered for a moment and then mumbled, “Wait here.” He disappeared into the dark, mysterious interior of the house and remained gone for at least five minutes. Donna half expected the parents to go rattling down the driveway in a beat-up pickup truck, scooping up the three girls on the run like some TV comedy from the nineteen sixties.
    Instead, a woman of around thirty stepped onto the porch. She carried an infant, while a two-year-old boy clung to her skirt with both fists. Running a quick tally, that meant a minimum of six at-risk children in this one family. “May I help you?” asked the woman, hefting the baby higher up her hip.
    â€œI hope so. I’m Donna Cline from the Casey County Department of Health. Is there someplace we can talk comfortably?”
    â€œHere is good.” She pointed toward a porch swing. The three little girls sprang up and raced down the steps into the yard.
    â€œThank you.” Donna walked to the swing. “Is your husband available? This might interest him as well, Mrs.…”
    The woman didn’t supply her last name. “No, he’ll be in the hayfields until six o’clock. I doubt you would want to wait till then.” There was no hostility in her voice, just a simple statement of fact.
    Donna sat, as did the woman, and the swing began to move. “You have a fine family,” she said. “Beautiful children.”
    â€œThank you.” A hint of suspicion clouded the woman’s eyes.
    â€œThey are the reason I am here…to keep them healthy. A case of polio has turned up recently in Casey County in the Plain community—a little girl either Amish or Old Order Mennonite.”
    â€œPolio?” The woman’s eyes rounded. “I’ve heard of it, but I’m not sure what it is.”
    â€œIt’s an infectious disease, very rare these days, thank goodness, but unfortunately not completely eradicated.” Donna gulped, regretting her choice of words. She’d been advised by Phil to use only basic terms. “It’s a virus that hits primarily children and young adults. It can cause weakness and paralysis in the limbs, especially the legs. The effects often last a lifetime.”
    The Mennonite mother blinked and shifted the sleeping infant to her other shoulder. “Who is this child?”
    Donna softened her expression. “I’m sorry, but federal law prohibits me from disclosing the child’s name.”
    â€œWhat’s the family name?” Her expression of mistrust heightened.
    â€œThe law protects the privacy of the family too. I can’t say more about the patient, only that the child is receiving the best medical care available.”
    She frowned. “Will they get better?”
    â€œThat depends on the individual. If it’s a full-blown paralytic infection, they might regain some mobility, but not necessarily. There is no cure. That’s why prevention is so important.”
    The woman’s complexion paled.
    â€œBut the reason I’m here is to protect your children from contracting the disease. A vaccine is