Read Online Silent Thunder by Andrea Pinkney - Free Book Online

knew by the way Missy Claire was shuddering and choking on her tears that what the master had was a real bad thing. And I heard her tell Doc Bates that Gideon’s own pa had suffered something similar, before he’d died and left the Parnell plantation to Gideon.
    That night, back at the quarters, everybody had something to say about Master Gideon’s stroke—about what was really wrong with him (some disagreed with Doc Bates’s call), and about how we’d all fare now that the master was too sick to run his plantation.
    A small group sat around the table and argued. Each person seemed stuck in his or her own belief. And all of us seemed agitated about the day’s happenings.
    Thea said Master Gideon had been cursed withwhat she called “heart-shock,” a wicked condition that didn’t sound too far off from Doc Bates’s description. She explained that one of Master Gideon’s hands and arms and maybe even one of his legs would shrivel and wither like a dead fish. And, Thea told us, Gideon Parnell would come to speak like the sloppy drunks that stagger around the town alleys at odd hours of the night. And that his speech would turn to slur forever, without him even taking a drop of whisky.
    Thea spoke with true authority, even more than Doc Bates had. We all listened close, and nobody disagreed. We all Thea spoke, I could see Mama’s lips reciting a prayer.
    All the slaves on Parnell’s place stayed up later than usual that night. It was the men, mostly, who sat up debating about what would happen now. I saw Rosco and Clem swapping glances. Me, I held Walnut tighter than ever.
    â€œMissy Claire sure can’t run things,” said Eagan, Parnell’s oldest field slave.
    Pippin, who mans the smokehouse, said, “Parnell’s boy, that sickly runt of a child, don’t have nowhere near what it takes to step into his daddy’s shoes.”
    Clem stood up when he spoke. He said, “This whole thing is a dream come true for Ranee Smalley, Parnell’s overseer.”
    Everybody listened dose to Clem, who was talkingin a fury. “You know what they say: ‘When the cat’s away, the mice will play.’ And Ranee is gonna use this as his chance to play—to play like he’s the boss man. Remember how it was whenever Parnell went to Charlottesville for an overnight visit? Rance loved to act like this plantation was all his.”
    A few of the men piped up. They were agreeing with Clem.
    Mama shushed everybody. “Let’s not jump to all kinds of notions.”
    Then Rosco spoke up. “I got me a bit of hearsay,” he said. He looked from me to Mama to Clem. “I got wind that freedom’s comin’,” he said softly.
    Several men pulled their chairs closer to the table. “Speak on it. What’s the hearsay?” Pippin gave Rosco a nudge.
    I saw Mama listening as close as the men.
    Rosco licked his lips. “I hear our very own president has written up a freedom paper.” Now Rosco’s eyes took a moment to look at each and every one of us as he spoke. “He’s puttin together what folks is calling a ‘proclamation’—an order that will set us all free, come the new year.”
    Some of the men laughed. “Boy, you been hearin’ tall tales,” said Eagan.
    Clem, who was still standing, sat down sharply. “Where you been gettin’ this hearsay, Rosco?”
    Rosco was slow to answer. Some of the men leanedin toward Rosco. Finally Rosco said, “I get hearsay same way as anybody else: from keeping my ears cocked and my eyes open.”
    Late into the night, when Mama and me finally settled onto our pallets, I took comfort in Walnut’s tiny brown body and in my Clarkston Reader. I kept my lantern burning low, close to my pallet, so’s I could see my book.
    That’s when, all of a sudden, Mama scolded me. “Snuff that lantern, child—snuff it now. And put