Fated Memories (10 page)

Maggie studied Simon for a moment and then perched on the edge of a cot. “Kitty, I don’t know how to break this to you, but Simon is right. Cumberland, Maryland was the site of one of the early battles of the Civil War. I remember reading a brief entry about it in one of my American History textbooks. Nothing major happens there, so no one ever re-enacts it. I think this is for real, I think we are in 1861. Don’t ask me how or why, I don’t know and I’m sure Simon doesn’t.” She threw a questioning glance at Simon who shook his head. “We need to try to figure it out.”

Kitty eased herself onto the edge of another cot and narrowed her eyes at Maggie. “Are you serious, or is this another Lucy scheme? Because if it’s a scheme to get me hyped up for the activities or whatever, you can save your breath, I’m already there.”

A moment of uneasy silence filled the room before Maggie spoke again. “Okay, let’s look at this logically for a moment. What’s the last thing we all remember that makes sense?”

“That’s easy,” Kitty answered. “That dimwit drunk, Doyle, tried to attack you in the club’s parking lot and Simon punched him. I remember thinking we needed to get the hell out of there, and then I woke up covered in vomit.”

“Mmm hmm, me too. I panicked when Grandma’s locket fell off. I thought if it got lost or broken, I’d lose that part of her forever. When Simon yanked our arms to run away, I was holding it in a death grip. Then I had this weird sensation of falling, like in a slow motion dream. What about you, Simon?”

Simon had gotten up to pace as Maggie recalled her viewpoint and didn’t answer right away. His face had paled again, and he looked as though he might puke.

“Simon?” she prodded.

“Well it was just one of those random thoughts, you know, like everyone has now and then.” His hands waved around for emphasis as his pacing became faster. “Nothing ever comes from those thoughts. How could it? How could I know this was the one and only time it would happen?”

“Simon.” Maggie used that same voice all mothers do when they want you to confess that you’re the one who knocked the lamp over and broke it and your sister had nothing to do with it, because she’d been upstairs in her room the whole time.

He exhaled a long sigh. “Okay, as I said, it hit me out of the blue and it was something to the effect of ‘If I was in 1861 right now, none of this would be happening.’ There, that’s it. So now you can say it. All this is my fault.”

This is absurd
. Kitty’s laughter broke the uncomfortable silence. “Okay come on, guys, you got me. You can drop the charade now that's enough.”

Simon sat beside Maggie, drawing her close as she sobbed into her hands. Neither of them spoke. Simon handed Maggie his handkerchief to blow her nose, and it dawned on Kitty that her tears were genuine. She wasn’t faking, this was really happening.

“What, you're serious?” Kitty’s mind raced with confusion. Images of her mom posting their pictures on telephone poles and milk cartons swirled through her head.

Kitty sprang to her feet, her muscles tense and mouth dry. She couldn't decide whether to cry or scream. “You did this? You wished us here? Who does that kind of thing? What, are you some kind of alien or something? You take it back. You wish us back right now. I want to go home.”

Simon wavered on his feet, responding in a thick, husky voice. “I told you, I have no idea how this happened, and I'm just as freaked out about it as you. Don't you think that if I knew how to get us back home I would already have done it? My memories...”

“Your memories! I'm sick of hearing about your asinine memories. You're a freak! A freak who hit me! You’re still due some payback for that, you know.”

Maggie intervened to keep the tension from escalating further. “Stop it, you two. Fighting isn't going to help. Simon, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you were trying to prevent her from swearing in front of the officer, but if you think you can raise a hand to either of us in anger, we’re going to have a problem.”

“I didn’t mean to hit her I just wanted to make her mouth stop moving. I am not that guy. I would never…”

Kitty didn't give him a chance to finish. “Bullshit. I was on the receiving end of that smack, and it felt perfectly real to me.”

Frustrated, Simon placed his hands on his hips and stuck out his jaw. “Fine. If it's revenge you want, go ahead. Hit me.”

Maggie stepped to wedge between them, but she was too late. Kitty’s fist landed square on his jaw, sending him staggering back a few steps.

The result disappointed her. Rather than the satisfaction she'd anticipated, her heart instead filled with despair and defeat. Maggie was right. This time, fighting didn't help.

As Kitty turned towards the tent opening, Maggie caught her arm. Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “You can't leave, Kitty, there's no place to go.”

Kitty’s lips trembled and tears streamed down her face with the reality of her words. “I just need some space, Mags. Please, just let me sit outside alone for a few minutes. I promise not to go anywhere.”

***

Kitty’s tears flowed in silence as she sat in the small patch of damp grass near the tent. She thought her life sucked before, it never occurred to her that it could get worse. If only she could wake herself up from this nightmare.

A sudden gust of wind brought a rank whiff of sewage to her nose. Her attention drawn to her surroundings now, she noticed a lot of uniformed men passing amongst the tents. Their curious stares made her uncomfortable, but not enough to go back in the tent. In addition to the muddy paths and the stink, the condition of the grounds resembled a refugee camp rather than a military compound with haphazard laundry lines and trash strewn around it. Not far away, a man stood urinating onto the muddy path near his tent.
Nice. Thank God they gave us shoes.

Knees drawn up, Kitty rested her head on her folded arms. She had nearly dozed off when a loud clap of thunder sent a deluge of rain pouring down on her. Still she sat there, too numb to move. The loud downpour did get Maggie and Simon’s attention, though, and they rushed out to drag her back into the tent.

Maggie scolded and fussed over her, but her voice seemed so far away. “Christ, Kitty, I know you’re upset, but you could at least get out of the rain.”

It had come down so fast and so hard, her saturated dress dripped rivulets onto the floor and her hair lay plastered to her head.

Was it the sudden chill? The rain? Her nerves? Kitty broke out in a violent shiver.

“Simon, hurry. Can you get a fire going in the wood stove? I think Kitty’s going into shock and we need to get her dry and warm right away. Come here, honey, let me help you with your clothes. Kitty, look at me, are you okay? Kitty?”

***

Everything after that was a blur. She awoke the next morning mummy-wrapped in a quilt, with Maggie hovering over her smoothing her hair. A bugler’s reveille sounded in the distance. Maggie’s eyes shone with tears, but a smile curled her lips.

“Are you okay there, Ethel?”

“No. We’re still here.”

A tear spilled down her cheek. “Yes. Simon and I talked for hours last night, but we couldn’t come up with a rational explanation.”

Simon.
Just the mention of his name made Kitty’s jaw tighten.

“He went out to scrounge up food and coffee for us,” Maggie continued. “Your clothes were sopping wet, but I managed to dry a few things. It would be a good idea to sit up and put something on before he gets back.”

The chemise and the dress were wearable, but the other things were still too damp. Kitty had just finished finger combing her hair and tying it up with a strip of fabric torn from the bottom of a petticoat when Simon returned.

While at the commissary, he’d met a company of men whose three-month militia commitment had ended and would be mustering out soon. They’d bequeathed him their field supplies, a table and three chairs. Among the items were raw coffee beans, instructions on how to roast them, and a battered pot to brew them. Still more listless than helpful, Kitty remained inside the tent while Simon built the campfire and he and Maggie prepared the raw rations that had been distributed. Once the coffee started brewing, though, the aroma brought her out to join them.

The empty chair was next to Simon and, as she sat, he covered her hand with his and leaned closer. “I know this is hard, Kitty, and you have every right to be angry with me. But believe me, I never meant any of this to happen. I can promise you, though, that I’ll do everything in my power to keep you and Maggie safe until we figure a way to get out of here.”

Kitty searched his face for reassurance. The creased brow, the sad, yet hopeful, eyes shadowed with dark circles, and his slumped shoulders said he meant every word. She didn’t have to be happy about it, but continuing to punish him wouldn’t do any good either. He was obviously just as worried and confused as everyone else. She squeezed his hand in return and nodded.

As they picked at their food, Simon filled Kitty and Maggie in on what he’d learned from the few people he’d talked to in camp. “That insane asylum Colonel Kane mentioned yesterday is real. I saw it. It’s a big house just across the tracks from the eastern side of the camp. If we’re not careful about fitting in, and not letting anyone know our true circumstances, we may wind up there.”

Maggie inspected the hard square biscuit that came with the meal and pushed it aside. “Yesterday Kitty and I agreed to work in the hospital. I guess we can check that out and see if there’s anything we can do. Are you still okay with that, Kitty?”

“Sure,” she said with a rueful smirk. “I fall a hundred and fifty years into the past, and I’m back working at a hospital. If that isn’t karma I don’t know what is.”

Simon leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. “And Kitty, I don’t mean to single you out, but you need to think before you speak. Ladies don’t use that kind of language in this time. If they brand you a whore, we might all get thrown out of the compound, and then we won’t even have the food and shelter it provides. Okay?”

She nodded in agreement. As irritated as she was with him, at least his knowledge of the era would help them survive.

With the threat of the insane asylum looming over their heads, Maggie and Kitty decided to go ahead with their original plan of volunteering at the hospital. A job helped them blend in and gave them credible respectability. Since Colonel Kane had indicated that Simon could wait for the Bucktails unit to return before being formally inducted, he’d be available to coordinate the logistics of their survival. Though not a religious person, Kitty still thought it wouldn’t hurt to pray for help to find a way home. Just in case.

C
orporal Barnes never did come by to show them to the hospital, so Maggie and Kitty found it themselves. Since the camp had only a few wooden structures, it was easy to narrow down their choices. Inside they found a large open floor space that had been divided into two rooms, one for the injured and one for the sick, as well as several prep stations and desks. It made them sad to see so many young boys, many of them teenagers who should still be in high school, lying sick and injured in the beds. The sick far outnumbered the injured, with complaints ranging from simple fevers and diarrhea to typhus, measles and pneumonia. Camp Curtin also kept a separate hospital for the smallpox victims on the opposite side of the grounds.

The staff called the matron in charge “Aunty” Jackson. Kitty and Maggie pictured a short, fat, woman with gray hair drawn in an austere bun from her plain face, wearing a long, black dress and bustling around the hospital shouting orders. Instead, they met a pleasant, middle-aged woman with dark hair, tucked under her lace cap, showing only a few streaks of gray. A white pinafore apron covered her plain white cotton dress. She matched Maggie in height, had a slender build, pleasant features and a soft voice. Mrs. Jackson received their offer to volunteer with sincere appreciation and didn’t mind in the least that they had no previous medical training.

“All you need dears is a warm smile, a gentle touch and a willingness to do what’s necessary,” she explained. “These boys, most of them, are away from their homes and families for the first time in their lives. They’re sick, they’re injured and in desperate need of whatever comfort we can give them. If you have it in your hearts to do that much, then we can easily train you to do the rest.”

An instant kinship to these patients settled in Kitty’s heart. With her family so far away, she could use a little comforting herself. The vision of the soldier urinating into the pathway flashed in her head. The challenge would be to stay healthy long enough to make it back to them.

Mrs. Jackson retrieved two white uniforms from the linen closet. “I prefer my nurses to dress alike in these plain dresses so the men are not distracted by the fact that we’re women. You understand. But, I don’t think I have one long enough for you, Miss Kitty. You are rather tall for a woman.”

Kitty cringed and steeled herself for a repeat of the taunting she’d received in school about her height, but Mrs. Jackson continued in her warm, genuine way.

“Perhaps you ladies could go into town on a few errands for me today. While you’re there, you can take the dress to my seamstress who can lengthen it for you. And yours as well Miss Maggie.”

Kitty’s ears perked up with that.
What? Would we mind getting out of this sewer they call a military base for a little while?
“Why sure, Aunty Jackson, we’d be glad to go.”

***

Simon wouldn’t hear of them going off into town alone, it was too dangerous. To be honest, Kitty thought he was just as curious to see how the town looked in this time as she and Maggie were. Since he hadn’t been formally inducted into a regiment yet, he was issued a pass to be off base for the day. Aunty Jackson gave them a list of places to visit and sent the three of them off on the one-mile-walk to the city of Harrisburg.

Redbud and cherry trees, still blossoming due to a late winter storm, lined the mild downhill grade of Ridge Road. Their bounty of magenta, pink and white petals like painted fingernails against the blue of the sky and green of the fields. Once outside the influence of Camp Curtin, they could take a deep breath without assaulting their senses. For the first time, they noticed how fresh and sweet the air smelled without the pall of smog and exhaust so prevalent in their own time.

They chose to visit the seamstress first, so she’d have time to work on their dresses while they made the rest of their stops. Maggie recognized the house on Front Street right away as a historical landmark. 

“This is the Brunswick house. I’ve passed it a million times, though I don’t remember it ever looking this good. Local history was never a favorite pastime of mine, so I never paid much attention to it. I only remember something about old Brunswick being this railroad tycoon and an abolitionist, but I can’t tell you if they designated it as an historical site because of his notoriety or because the house was so old.”

Intrigued, Simon said, “Historical site, huh? Maybe I can get a tour while you ladies get fitted for your nursing uniforms.”

The view from the outside showed three stories with four dormer windows protruding from the sloped roof, along with several chimneys. Set back from the road, a low stone fence enclosed a beautiful and fragrant rose garden. Without a doubt, whoever lived here didn’t depend on the income from altering dresses for a living. Kitty imagined herself sitting on the wide front porch in the evenings with a glass of red wine, enjoying the view of the Susquehanna while fireflies danced over the rose garden.

An ebony-skinned maid answered their knock at the door and allowed them in when they said Aunty Jackson had sent them. Their eyes popped when she showed them into the huge parlor. Ornate molding rimmed the high ceiling, and over a grand piano hung a gold chandelier decorated with little cherubs and long leaves. In one corner they discovered a small alcove with floor to ceiling windows, just big enough for the table and two chairs that occupied the space. Huge mirrors and paintings graced the walls, and an oriental rug decorated the parquet wood floor. It was so stunning they hesitated to sit on the little settee the maid gestured them towards that they might get camp dirt on it from their clothes. Instead, they walked around the room gawking at everything as if in a museum.

After a few minutes, the maid came back with a tray of tea and cookies, followed by the lady of the house. Mrs. Carole Rose Brunswick, not quite five feet tall and slender, had honey blonde hair that hung in curls around her face. The dress she wore resembled the ones Kitty had seen in the history books. Made of brocade satin, it laid flat in the front, wide at the hips, and pouffed out in the back with a bustle. Wide sleeves began just below the shoulder under a narrow ruffle.

She waved away their protests to sitting on the settee with their dusty clothes where they exchanged pleasantries over the tea and cookies. Mrs. Brunswick gushed with delight at their intention to volunteer at the camp hospital.

“My, such dedication, I just don’t have the constitution myself to attend to those poor sick boys, but I help in any other way I can. I’ve been active in organizing the Volunteer Relief Fund and our family collects and donates food and blankets from the good people of Harrisburg. Now did you say Mrs. Jackson sent you with dresses to be altered? You ladies come with me and I’ll show you the brand new machine for sewing Mr. Brunswick bought for me.” After arranging for Simon to be shown the rest of the house by one of the staff, she whisked the ladies off to her sewing room to display her new toy.

“I do a lot of sewing and this wonderful invention just makes it so much easier and faster. Jerome, Mr. Brunswick, bought it for me because he says I have a real knack for designing dresses and he loves to see me in the ones I create.” She adjusted a few pins on the half-finished dress on the dummy form. “I'm going to wear this one to a dinner party we're hosting next month when the governor comes to visit.” 

Changing into their uniforms, the dresses, or rather the skirts and blouses that Aunty Jackson had provided, hung in loose folds. If Mrs. Jackson had been aiming for the androgynous look, she’d achieved it for sure.

“I wonder when they invented scrubs.” Maggie's eyes flew open as she spun her head around with a cautionary gasp.
Oops, I guess I said that out loud.
Good thing Mrs. Brunswick wasn't paying attention.

With Mrs. Blandford's dresses back on, Maggie and Kitty met up with Simon in the parlor. Mrs. Brunswick said she’d start on the alterations right away and they promised to return in the afternoon to retrieve them. 

***

With only three other short stops to make, they wandered around the Capitol grounds and side streets where Maggie pointed out the few things she recognized.

“About a hundred and fifty years from now, the building on that corner will house my favorite Italian bakery. They make the best cannoli in the world,” she sighed.

Simon let out a deep moan. “Did you have to mention food?”

Maggie reached into the rucksack they'd been given to complete their errands and produced a couple hunks of bread and three apples she had “requisitioned” from the commissary before they left. “It's not cannoli, but it will keep us from falling over until we get back to the camp for supper.”

They sat on the steps of the Capitol building in the warm sunshine, devouring their small lunch as they watched people pass. Many young recruits loitered on the steps as well while they sought induction into the army. The shabby clothes that hung on their thin bodies gave Kitty the impression that joining the army would be an improvement in their lives.

Simon licked his lips. “I could really go for a cold beer right now. It’s such a weird feeling to be broke. I've never been without cash in my pocket before.”

“Well, I for one, am going to bring food to every homeless person I see when we get back,” Maggie brushed the crumbs from her dress. They took stock of the sad state the people around them were in and nodded in agreement. As Simon had warned them earlier, as long as they kept a low profile, they’d at least be assured of food and shelter.

They dropped the letters off at the post office and then stopped at the apothecary shop for the lint dressing squares, bandages, and salves, Aunty Jackson had on her list. Their final stop was at an address on Market Street that turned out to be a saloon. Simon cautioned Maggie and Kitty to wait outside while he fetched whatever they were supposed to get. Mrs. Jackson had only said to mention her name there, and they’d be given a package to bring back to her. After what seemed a long time, they heard banging noises and men shouting coming from inside the saloon.

Maggie wrung her hands nervously. “Should we go in? What if there’s a fight inside and we get in the way?”

“What if there’s a fight inside and we can help?” Kitty countered.

They cast aside their fears, making a mad dash into the saloon intent on rescuing Simon from whatever he’d gotten into. She may still be resentful that he pulled them down this rabbit hole, Kitty reasoned, but what if he was the only one who could get them out? They elbowed and pushed their way through the circle of men who were shouting and stomping their feet, both of them afraid of what they’d find.

As they made it to the inside of the circle, they found Simon arm wrestling with a long-bearded brute at one of the tables. At least, from what they could see, the men looked evenly matched. Both of them showed muscles bulging in their arms, their grimaced faces red from the effort of the contest. The advantage wavered from one to the other, delighting the audience who exchanged bets on the outcome while shouting encouragement to their chosen champion. Sweat stood out on Simon’s brow, the strain and determination clear on his face. One more dip towards the brute’s side and then a startling grunting shout from Simon as he pounded his opponent’s hand down to the table. A sudden chorus of cheers filled the saloon with a round of backslapping and congratulating as money exchanged hands to pay off the bets. 

Simon noticed Maggie on the sidelines and, encircling her waist, he planted a solid kiss on her lips, eliciting more cheers and backslapping from the crowd. Clearly, the heat of the moment had him pumped. Maggie came away breathless and red-faced.

In the press of the crowd, a groping hand traveled down Kitty’s back, and hot, fetid breath tickled her ear. Her new drunk friend struggled to stay upright. Kitty faced him, gave him a sugary smile, then grabbed his testicles, twisted and pulled. His mouth dropped open, exhaling more of the foulness of his mouth into her face. At first his eyes shot wide open then they rolled up into his head as his whole body did a little jiggly dance. As he stiffened with pain, the beer mug fell from his hand and he passed out. Drunk and distracted by Simon’s floor show, no one in the saloon noticed their little encounter. More than likely they assumed the drink caused his indisposition which, given the circumstances, was not too far a stretch. They shoved him out of the way and continued their business.

Simon circled with his unused arm raised like a victorious gladiator who’d just slaughtered the lion. “Barkeep, my family and I are thirsty, bring us our drinks.” Simon led them to sit as the server brought three large glasses of the local brew to their table.

Maggie reclaimed her senses after that passionate kiss. “Are you out of your mind? What in the world possessed you to arm wrestle that guy? He could’ve broken your arm.”

Simon shrugged. “I was thirsty.”

***

By late afternoon, their errands accomplished, and Simon’s pocket jingling with his hard earned coins, they arrived back at the Brunswick house. This time the maid had cold meat sandwiches, a pitcher of lemonade for the ladies and a glass of beer for Simon waiting for them. They devoured the small feast like cavemen, showering her and the cook with praise.

When Mrs. Brunswick swept down the stairs she not only carried the white uniforms they’d asked her to alter, but also another outfit for each of them. “You ladies are sacrificing so much for the cause I wanted to do something special for you. I found these in my stash half-finished and, since I already knew your measurements, I adjusted them to fit. One can never have too many dresses, you know.”