The Apprenticeship of Lucas Whitaker by Cynthia DeFelice Read Free Book Online Page B

that bit you and apply them to the wound in a plaster. And I’ll not tell you she’s wrong. There’s wisdom in some of the old ways. True, some are plain silly, and others are downright harmful. The trouble is, we don’t always know the difference.”
    There was silence for several moments. Then Doc said in a low voice, “I was in Philadelphia in 1793 during the yellow-fever epidemic. Did you ever hear tell of it, lad?”
    Lucas shook his head. “No.”
    â€œOh, Lucas, the city was a ghastly place to be in that summer. Ghastly. People were nearly paralyzed with fear of the ‘black vomit,’ as they called it, myself included.
    â€œI’ll never forget the constant cry of the gravediggers ringing through the streets: ‘Bring out your dead. Bring out your dead.’”
    In the pale moonlight, Lucas could see Doc brush his hand across his forehead, as if to sweep away the memory.
    â€œI was your age, lad, and thinking about studying medicine, when that fever swept through the city. Killed one out of every ten people, it did. Then it disappeared just as mysteriously as it had come.
    â€œThere wasn’t a doctor in the city who could do more than hide behind closed doors, praying that he and his loved ones would be spared.
    â€œThat experience was a valuable lesson to me, Lucas. It has prevented me, I hope, from becoming arrogant. But it left me with the desire to know more . To be able to do more .”
    Doc Beecher turned to look at Lucas. Even in the dimness of moonlight reflected off snow, his eyes appeared to glow with the fervor of his words.
    â€œI am humble before life’s mysteries, Lucas. But I believe that we must try to learn and understand as much as we can, lad, if our being on this earth is to mean anything at all.”
    The town of Southwick lay ahead, quiet and still in the late-winter evening. Candle-or lamplight gleamed from a few windows; most were dark. As Doc steered the wagon down the empty main street, he turned to Lucas with a wry smile. “I’m sorry, lad, for bending your ear, and you a captive here in the wagon with no hope of escape. But visits such as ours to the Stukeleys today make me feel useless. Helpless. And that makes me melancholy.
    â€œI expect you know something about that.”
    Tears sprang suddenly to Lucas’s eyes. Useless. Helpless. Yes, he knew something about that. He was grateful for the darkness that hid his face.

Eight
    The following morning Doc told Lucas to take the wagon over to Eben Oaks, the blacksmith, to have him look at the wheel.
    â€œTell him it was giving a bit of a wobble yesterday on the way out to the Stukeley place,” Doc advised.
    When Lucas stepped into the shop, young Daniel Oaks was counting out nails for his father, and placing them in bags to be sold. At the sight of Lucas, his face broke into a smile. “’Lo, Lucas,” he said shyly.
    â€œHello yourself, Daniel,” answered Lucas. “How’s the toothache?”
    â€œGone,” said Daniel, jumping up to give Lucas a look inside his mouth. The empty space looked much less red and swollen to Lucas. “Where’s my tooth?”
    â€œI gave it to an old man who didn’t have any,” said Lucas.
    â€œDid not!” Daniel laughed.
    â€œI did. Mighty grateful he was, too. He said to give you this.” Lucas handed Daniel a twig several inches long. The end was splintered into bristles.
    â€œWhat is it?” asked Daniel, wrinkling his nose in a frown.
    â€œA tooth cleaner,” said Lucas. “I made it for you. Doc says if you use it, it’ll keep your teeth from going bad.”
    â€œMama!” Daniel hollered excitedly, running out of the forge and into the house. “See what Lucas gave me!”
    Lucas looked toward the man who had been busy heating a piece of metal in the forge. “Mr. Oaks?” he inquired.
    â€œThat’s me,” said the man.