Free Silent Thunder by Andrea Pinkney

winter, and how Lowell was winter’s sure target. (Missy Claire always thought she was an expert in the ways of weather.)
    So I stirred the cayenne liniment, while Mama massaged it into Lowell’s chest and back.
    Oh, does that oil ever stink! It stinks worse than horse wind. But Lowell didn’t seem to notice the smell. He stood obediently when Mama worked on him. He was bare from the waist up, his spindly arms held out at each side. For a moment, Lowell looked like the sack-doll I’d made for Summer. Arms stiff, body still, face blank. Even his cowlick stood at attention.
    All that day I was stuck with the odor of the cayenne liniment. It had a way of clinging to my hands no matter how hard I washed them.
    Mama was the one who’d been tending to Master Gideon, too. (Thea said Gideon preferred the sure-handedness of Mama’s tending over Missy Claire’s frail company.)
    Mama served Parnell’s meals to him in his study. And, with Missy Claire’s go-’head, she prepared warm herb poultices, smelly concoctions Thea swore would restore the master’s limp left arm and leg. (Two Sundays past, when Doc Bates came to check on Parnell, he toldMama and Thea that even though Missy Claire gave her permission to use the poultices, they were not proven medical practice. After he left, Thea told Mama that the Lords good herbs didn’t need no practice.)
    Last week, I heard Mama saying to Summer, “What I tell you—ever since Gideon’s heart-shock, all kinds of official folks been comin’ to this house. I spend half my day answering the door clapper.”
    Mama was right about that. Aside from Doc Bates, Parnell had had visits from Robert Stearns, who owns the mercantile in town, from Andrew Wells, who calls prices at the slave auctions on the block, and, just yesterday, some white-haired man I ain’t never seen the likes of showed up to see Master Gideon.
    â€œParnell owes the man money. He’s stacked himself some hefty debts, and that man wanted to make sure Parnell was still alive and able to continue with his payments,” Thea had said
    To keep Master Gideon presentable for visitors, Mama arranged for Clem to bathe the master and shave his face and neck every day.
    Summer still worked ’longside Mama. But something had come between them two. Some kind of heavy silence. And Summer, she was holding fast to Walnut seemed like all the time. She hugged that doll to her like it was a real, living baby.
    I’d taken to giving Summer her lessons in the early blue-black mornings, after Mama had left the quarters,long before there was even a trace of sun. This was Summer’s idea.
    Summer now took her lessons without the lesson book I’d given her. She said Mama took the book away, for good! So, come lately, I’d been teaching Summer letters with a smooth patch of dirt and a sharp stick. I drew letters in the dirt while Summer held the lantern.
    Not having a proper reading book hadn’t hurt Summer any. In just two weeks she’d learned the whole alphabet. And, my addle-brained sister was more determined than ever to pay me her full attention when I insisted that we go slow with our lessons.
    Ever since sickliness had taken over the master, Lowell had changed, too. His wheeziness was near to gone. If I was a firm believer in Thea’s powers, I’d ’a sworn she’d put some kind of spell on Lowell—some kind of get-well spell.
    He was still skinny as a whittled stick, but a flush of color had come to his cheeks. His speaking voice was still one peg up from a whisper, but he now stuttered only a little. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was Mama’s cayenne liniment that had done the trick, or if Lowell was somehow blessed with healing from knowing that his pa, who thought the worst of him, was sick.
    Lowell and Miss McCracken were still studying “The Snow-Storm.” Miss McCracken now called that part of their lesson