A View of the Town: Episode 16 -- Mrs. Abigail Symons Simmons

Welcome to A View of the Town, the adventures of Dr. Willis Fletcher in a small coastal town in Maine. Offering tidbits of local color and the lay of the land, we now return to Dr. Fletcher and the sleepy seaport of Misty Cove.

This episode of A View of the Town is brought to you by lettuce.  Crisp and green.  Flat, roman, or curly. It’s best with a mix of mustard and honey. Lettuce.

I want to tell you the time that I attended Mrs. Abigail Symons Simmons, the meanest woman in Misty Coves history.  Now Old Mrs. Simmons was on her death bed.  Just waiting for Death to knock on her door.  Probably to hand her off to whoever takes them down below.  Trust me, not one person in town will argue with me.

In order to understand her hatred of people, we would have to delve into her past.  And we just don’t know it.   She had moved to Misty Cove after her husband had died, because it was in his will.  He had to live in the house of his choice in order to receive money from his estate..  Apparently, he killed himself, possible to get away from his wife, but rumor has it he had embezzled money and law was about to catch up with him.  So, Old Mrs. Simmons had lived in Misty Cove for about ten years before I arrived, so about 1910.

Her main order of business was to complain about the orphanage home being too close to her house, the volunteer fire brigade “disgusting taste in uniform colors,” the smell from the wharf, the new color of the hotel, the old color of the hotel, the saw mill made too much dust, the grocery never had what she wanted, the baker's bread was too soft, sometimes too hard.… in fact there was nothing that she didn’t complain about.  Even when she first came to my office.

“How do I know that you are a qualified doctor?” she said. 

“Here are my degrees.  I trained under some great qualified doctors.”

“Those could be fake.  Maybe you bought them.”

I didn’t know what to say.  She sat across from me, frowning, holds folded on her lap, leaning forward a bit, and pursing her lips.  “I have a pain that I need to you determine its source.”

“And where it is?”

She pointed to her foot.  “I fear that it might be cancer.”  She slipped her shoe off and plopped her foot on my knee.

With just one glance, I could see that it was a callus.  A classic case.  She did not like that answer.

“I knew you were a quack.  Not a real doctor.  Any well-educated doctor would know that was cancer.”

Needless to say, Mrs. Abigail Symons Simmons did not return to my office and seven weeks later died at the age of 84.  From a slow painful death of cancer…. In her mouth.  Had she let me say “Open your mouth and say Ahhhh” I probably would have noted the sore.  But she probably wouldn’t have believed me.  

I’ll save some of my “fonder” memories of Mrs. Simmons for later, especially the one about being told to keep her window shades pulled all the way down.  My one of my other favorites being that of Mrs. Astor, one of our seamstresses in town.  Mrs. Astor once said "I just love to embroider her monogram.  It suits her so well."

This episode of A View of the Town is brought to you by lettuce.  Boston or head or bibb. Toss it with onions, tomatoes, and put it in the fridge.  Lettuce.