Free The Apprenticeship of Lucas Whitaker by Cynthia DeFelice Page B

what made it so hard to explain. He wished he could find the words for what he knew inside: that his mama’s unnecessary death was the very thing that made him so sure that Sarah would live, that his grief and regret over his mama’s dying meant he was the right person to bring about Sarah Stukeley’s cure. Because he had not used it to save Mama, the cure had power . It was only right that he should be able to use it to help Sarah Stukeley. He felt this in his heart, but he didn’t know how to make Doc feel it, too.
    â€œLad,” said Doc, “it’s true I said all those things. It’s true that doctors, including myself, are far from knowing all the answers. But there are some things we do know, Lucas, and one is that when people are dead and buried, as Thomas was and as your Uncle Asa was, they cannot come back to do us harm.
    â€œThis belief your neighbor and Lewis Stukeley hold is based, not on scientific reasoning, lad, but on superstition, and fear, and ignorance. And while it is easy to understand why they would want to believe in it, for the sake of holding out hope that their loved ones will get well, it—”
    â€œI was ignorant before,” said Lucas, his voice rising. “Now I know! Sarah Stukeley will live .”
    â€œI hope you’re right about that,” Doc said with a sigh.
    â€œBut you don’t believe it.”
    â€œShe may live, but it won’t be because of what was done to Thomas Stukeley’s remains.” Doc looked almost pleadingly at Lucas’s face. “I believe this, Lucas: people who are desperate do desperate things. And I understand that. But—”
    Lucas interrupted with another thought. “Doc, what about the signs that Thomas Stukeley still lived? I saw them with my own eyes!”
    Doc Beecher looked thoughtful. Then he asked, “What did you expect to see, Lucas?”
    â€œI—Well…” Lucas hadn’t thought about that. “Bones, I guess. Dried up, dead old bones! Like that,” he added, pointing to the skull sitting on the shelf.
    â€œIt was November when Thomas died, as I recall,” said Doc. “It is now, let me see, why, it’s the seventh of March. Thomas’s body has been in the ground just a little over three months now, Lucas. Three months, I might add, when the weather was quite cold. What does that suggest to you, lad?”
    Lucas shrugged.
    â€œI did not see Thomas, of course,” said Doc, “but what you have described is not surprising. It sounds to me like the normal condition of a body after an interment of that length of time, at this time of the year.”
    â€œMr. Stukeley said there was ‘living blood’ in the heart,” said Lucas.
    â€œBy which he means blood that is red and flowing, I take it,” said Doc. “I don’t know how to explain that, Lucas, other than to say that it does not mean Thomas was drawing blood from Sarah or any other living soul.
    â€œIn medical school we dissected many corpses, lad, and I saw many strange things that I cannot explain.”
    â€œWell, how do you explain Enoch Rood?” Lucas asked eagerly. “He’s cured! What about the stories Mrs. Rood heard? People in other places have been cured, too. Lots of people.”
    â€œLucas, in my experience, accounts like that have a way of growing bigger as they get passed along. They take on a life of their own. And, I’m afraid, the truth often suffers in the process.” Doc sighed. “People like a good story, lad. Each teller of the tale adds a touch here, a detail there, all to make the tale more intriguing and pleasing to his listeners. And if the one telling the story and the folks listening all want very much for the tale to end a certain way, well, you see what can happen.”
    Lucas frowned. “Do you mean Mrs. Rood was lying? And Mr. Rood, when he told me of Enoch’s cure?”
    â€œNo, I don’t