Mind Games

“Let the wild rumpus start!”

With a cheer, Thea executed a very solid cartwheel. Rem settled on making monkey noises.

Since she’d write in her journal that night, Thea paid attention to everything they did during the day.

They weeded the garden first because the mountain air held cooler than it would after noontime. If they forgot some of the names of the plants, Lucy helped them remember using rhymes.

“I had a friend named Hazel.”

So that was basil.

“I try to imagine what will be.”

And that was astilbe.

It made it all fun, and they all wore floppy hats.

Then they made butter, better than anything in the store, from the cream from Aster’s milk. And Thea got to pour off the buttermilk to save it.

They both got to wash it in cold, cold water, then knead it—Rem said Oooey-gooey a lot.

And Grammie took some of it and added honey for what she called a sweet spread.

For lunch they had leftover chicken, and biscuits with the sweet spread they made themselves.

They took a walk in the woods and the hills with the dogs. Lucy carried spray she made to chase bears away if they needed to. But they didn’t.

They stopped at a house that was really a kind of cabin even Thea knew had seen better days. A scrawny gray cat raced up a tree and hissed at the dogs from a branch but they didn’t pay him any mind.

A boy younger than Rem sat on the saggy front porch playing with a little car. He was what she’d heard Grammie call a towhead because his hair was so blond it was nearly white.

“Hi there, Sammy. Is your mama home?”

“Yes’m, Miss Lucy.” He yelled out, “Ma! Miss Lucy’s come around.”

A woman came to the door with a baby on her hip and a toddler clinging to her pants leg. The toddler had red, scaly rings on both arms.

“Afternoon, Miss Lucy.” She shoved at her hair—a darker blond than the boy’s. “These are your grandbabies? Lordy, the girl looks just like you.”

“My pride and joy. Thea, Rem, say afternoon to Miss Katie.”

“Afternoon,” they said in unison while Thea tried not to stare at those weird red circles.

“I heard Sharona there had a problem.”

“Picked up the ringworm. I’ve been trying to keep it clean. Got it on her scalp, too.”

“I brought you some special soap. You want to use this.” Lucy took a wrapped bar from her pack. “You wash her arms, her scalp with this, and dry it good. It’s the moisture helps it spread, so dry it good with a clean cloth. Then take this.”

She produced a small bottle. “And mix it with just a little water. You want to make a paste of it, and spread it on until it dries. It’s turmeric,” she added, “and won’t do her any harm. It should help.”

“I sure will. I thank you, Miss Lucy. I don’t have—”

“You don’t worry about payment. Next time Billy makes up a batch of his special, you send me some. And if what I brought you doesn’t fix this pretty girl up, you send word to me.”

“I’ll do that. I’ll do all that. I’ve got some catnip tea brewing in the sun out the back if y’all want to come in, have a cup.”

“Oh, that sounds good, but we’ve got other calls to make. You go on, wash that sweet baby up. Let me know how she does.”