Read Online Fever 1793 by Laurie Halse Anderson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laurie Halse Anderson
Tags: Fiction, Juvenile Nonfiction, Action & Adventure - General, Survival, Children: Grades 4-6, Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Epidemics, Children's 9-12 - Fiction - Historical, Historical - United States - Colonial, Health & Daily Living - Diseases, Yellow fever, Health & Daily Living - Diseases; Illnesses &
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sympathizing with us tauntingly proclaim the healthfulness of their own cities... -Letter of Ebenezer Hazard Philadelphia, 1793
We hadn't walked far before Grandfather shook with chills.
"Let's rest a while under that chestnut tree, child," he suggested.
I untied my apron and filled it with timothy grass until it formed a soft pillow for Grandfather's head. I wanted to ask him what we should do next, but he was asleep again before I could say a word.
I bit the inside of my cheek to force back the tears. Crying wouldn't help anything. I put my hand on Grandfather's forehead. It was hot and dripping.
Think, I commanded myself. We have no food or water. We're at least ten miles out of the city. It would
84
take hours to walk back, even if Grandfather felt well. It is just a summer grippe, I told myself. It is just a summer grippe. It had better be a summer grippe, because there is no way to care for him if he is truly ill. I ran my tongue over my dry lips. The first thing we needed was a drink of water.
I slipped Grandfather's canteen from his belt. His chest rose and fell steadily, and his heart thudded regularly.
"I'll be back soon," I whispered as I kissed the damp white hair above his ear.
I walked a few hundred paces south to where the road rose sharply. On top of the hill, I squinted along the horizon until I found what I was looking for.
A line of willow trees.
"Old soldier's trick," I said as I set off. Find a willow tree and you'll soon find water nearby.
The stream was sweet and clear. I drank my fill and washed my face. It was much cooler under the willow than it had been under the chestnut tree. Maybe I could convince Grandfather to move here when he wakes, I thought.
But first I had to find supper. A row of raspberry bushes heavy with ripe fruit lined the other side of the bank. I splashed over and started to pick the fruit.
"Raspberry bushes mean rabbits are about," I told a curious bluebird watching from a milkweed plant.
Grandfather could snare a rabbit, and I'd cook it over
45
a small fire. With fresh water and food, we could stay under the willow until he regained his strength, then head back to the city. Grandfather would recuperate at home with Mother, and I could care for them both. I ate a handful of berries. My solution was perfect.
"I have a plan," I shouted as I ran back to the chestnut tree. I held my overskirt out in front of me to keep the raspberries from being crushed. The full canteen sloshed against my backside.
Grandfather slowly opened his eyes. I peered closely. His eyes were bloodshot, but they were not yellow. Good, I thought. Just a summer grippe. He pushed himself up to lean against the tree trunk.
"There's my cherub," he said. "I knew you wouldn't leave me to face the enemy alone."
"Here." I fumbled with the canteen. "You need some water. You'll feel much better."
Water spilled along his withered cheeks and down his neck. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and smiled.
"Better than German wine."
"I have raspberries, too," I said.
"Sit close to me, child," he said. "I want to see your face."
I made myself comfortable in the dirt and shared the berries with him. King George swooped down to help himself to dinner.
"I found a stream of fresh water, like a soldier would, by following the willows. It's beautiful and cool and
86
peaceful. We'll go there after the sun sets. Once you recover your strength, we'll go home and you can rest in your own bed."
Grandfather slowly raised a raspberry to his mouth. A mockingbird in the meadow whistled, and King George took off in pursuit. Cicadas and crickets sang farewell to the sun slipping toward the west.
"I'm a fool," Grandfather said.
"Pardon me?"
"I'm a fool," he repeated. "Worse, an old fool. Lucille was right all along. I should have paid more attention. General Washington used to say my only fault was stubbornness. If not for that..."
His voice drifted off but his eyes did not close. Would he be strong enough to walk
We hadn't walked far before Grandfather shook with chills.
"Let's rest a while under that chestnut tree, child," he suggested.
I untied my apron and filled it with timothy grass until it formed a soft pillow for Grandfather's head. I wanted to ask him what we should do next, but he was asleep again before I could say a word.
I bit the inside of my cheek to force back the tears. Crying wouldn't help anything. I put my hand on Grandfather's forehead. It was hot and dripping.
Think, I commanded myself. We have no food or water. We're at least ten miles out of the city. It would
84
take hours to walk back, even if Grandfather felt well. It is just a summer grippe, I told myself. It is just a summer grippe. It had better be a summer grippe, because there is no way to care for him if he is truly ill. I ran my tongue over my dry lips. The first thing we needed was a drink of water.
I slipped Grandfather's canteen from his belt. His chest rose and fell steadily, and his heart thudded regularly.
"I'll be back soon," I whispered as I kissed the damp white hair above his ear.
I walked a few hundred paces south to where the road rose sharply. On top of the hill, I squinted along the horizon until I found what I was looking for.
A line of willow trees.
"Old soldier's trick," I said as I set off. Find a willow tree and you'll soon find water nearby.
The stream was sweet and clear. I drank my fill and washed my face. It was much cooler under the willow than it had been under the chestnut tree. Maybe I could convince Grandfather to move here when he wakes, I thought.
But first I had to find supper. A row of raspberry bushes heavy with ripe fruit lined the other side of the bank. I splashed over and started to pick the fruit.
"Raspberry bushes mean rabbits are about," I told a curious bluebird watching from a milkweed plant.
Grandfather could snare a rabbit, and I'd cook it over
45
a small fire. With fresh water and food, we could stay under the willow until he regained his strength, then head back to the city. Grandfather would recuperate at home with Mother, and I could care for them both. I ate a handful of berries. My solution was perfect.
"I have a plan," I shouted as I ran back to the chestnut tree. I held my overskirt out in front of me to keep the raspberries from being crushed. The full canteen sloshed against my backside.
Grandfather slowly opened his eyes. I peered closely. His eyes were bloodshot, but they were not yellow. Good, I thought. Just a summer grippe. He pushed himself up to lean against the tree trunk.
"There's my cherub," he said. "I knew you wouldn't leave me to face the enemy alone."
"Here." I fumbled with the canteen. "You need some water. You'll feel much better."
Water spilled along his withered cheeks and down his neck. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and smiled.
"Better than German wine."
"I have raspberries, too," I said.
"Sit close to me, child," he said. "I want to see your face."
I made myself comfortable in the dirt and shared the berries with him. King George swooped down to help himself to dinner.
"I found a stream of fresh water, like a soldier would, by following the willows. It's beautiful and cool and
86
peaceful. We'll go there after the sun sets. Once you recover your strength, we'll go home and you can rest in your own bed."
Grandfather slowly raised a raspberry to his mouth. A mockingbird in the meadow whistled, and King George took off in pursuit. Cicadas and crickets sang farewell to the sun slipping toward the west.
"I'm a fool," Grandfather said.
"Pardon me?"
"I'm a fool," he repeated. "Worse, an old fool. Lucille was right all along. I should have paid more attention. General Washington used to say my only fault was stubbornness. If not for that..."
His voice drifted off but his eyes did not close. Would he be strong enough to walk
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