9.29 The Witchling Shama

Dr. Stevens ate everything I’d fixed and drank the rest of the coffee. Mrs. Penn only nibbled on some eggs and took the tiniest bite of one pancake. I saw the doctor observing that. I think he was more worried than I’d thought.

The boys had gone to play with some blocks Frank had brought down from the attic. They were loud and full of giggles, but it was a happy sound. Mrs. Penn smiled to hear it.

But the moment she finished her coffee, she decided to go lie down again, and both the doctor and I accompanied her to her room. When she crawled into bed, the doctor stuck a thermometer in her mouth and used a stethoscope on her chest. Whatever he heard seemed to change his tune.

“Madame, you are not to get out of this bed, except to use the toilet. Your heart is racing, and you have a low grade fever.”

Old Mother’s illness had started out the same way. The coldness of terror struck me in that moment. I wanted to cry out to Gaia and to rush out and hunt for some willow tree bark. Or, maybe meadowsweet shrub would be closer.

“You get some rest now,” Dr. Stevens ordered. I doubted Mrs. Penn’s resting would be a problem. Her eye lids were sagging before we left the room.

The moment we were far enough away from Mrs. Penn’s room not to disturb her, I asked Dr. Stevens if he knew where we could find some willow tree bark or meadowsweet.

“Meadowsweet?  You’d find that in the marshes or swamps. Maybe out by the river? But not around here. As to a white willow tree, I can’t say I’ve seen that around here, but luckily I do have some willow bark powder. Let’s see if that’s the right prescription for what ails our friend, shall we?”

“She won’t die, will she? It isn’t pneumonia?”

He stopped and turned to study me. “No. She isn’t going to die, young lady. She may have a touch of bronchitis. If she starts coughing more, we’ll treat her with the syrup of squills. Are you familiar with it?”

Since he started explaining how to make it and other treatments like peppermint and mustard plasters, I led the way back to the table and poured each of us more coffee. I completely forgot about Frey and whether Frank was doing okay with my horse. Dr. Stevens was filling me up with knowledge, one of the things I loved most.

 

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