Fire Over Atlanta (8 page)

From outside came the yelping of a dog that had apparently treed something, and Charlie looked out the window. “That’s that dog next door. He’d make a pretty good possum hound if I could just get him out in the woods. Look, he’s done treed that yellow cat that lives across the street.”

But Lori was more interested in Charlie’s marital ideas. Clasping her hands tightly together, she said, “Charlie, I need to talk to you. You just don’t understand that a man wouldn’t be at all interested in what you’re saying.”

Charlie seemed genuinely surprised. “Why, certain he would! I’ve got the money to buy a good farm. I can work as good as any man. Drake would be glad to get a deal like that.”

Lori felt helpless. “Charlie, a man wants more than a farm, and somebody to plow, and … there are other things.”

“Like what?”

“Why, I mean like … well, like …” Lori suddenly bogged down, for she did not know where to start. Finally she said, “Well, like romance.”

“I don’t know much about that,” Charlie said. “But I’ll do everything that has to be done to be a good wife.”

After the girl left to split more wood, Lori sat at the table for some time in a daze.
She’s headed for a terrible fall. I hope she doesn’t say anything to Drake about this. She’s so straightforward and says whatever comes to her mind
. Then she spoke aloud. “I don’t know how to help her, and I’m pretty sure Drake is not going to like it!”

Rosie came to a dead stop and grabbed Drake’s arm, jerking him around and pointing at a shop window. “Look, that’s just what I been lookin’ everywhere for!”

Drake was in a hurry to get to Lori’s house, but he stopped long enough to see that Rosie was staring at a display of bottles. He read the advertisement and then scowled in disgust. “Rosie, you don’t need any more medicine! You got enough now to stock a store.”

“But you know how my heart is. It ain’t good at all,” Rosie complained. “I been meanin’ to get some of this for some time. Come on in, now.” He hauled Drake into the shop, and when the clerk came up—a small man with a balding head—he said, “I want some of that Dr. Eckels Australian Auriclo.”

The clerk grinned. “Yes, sir. How much do you want?”

“I better have three or four bottles.”

The clerk quickly gathered the bottles together and held up one. “According to what this says, this’ll do almost anything for you, sir.”

Rosie took the bottle and read the label. “It’s good for shortness of breath, fluttering, palpitation, irregularity or intermediate pulse, and an oppressed feeling in the chest. Well, I got all them symptoms,” he said with vigor. “Ain’t that right, Drake?”

Drake had long since given up trying to cure Rosie of his imaginary illnesses. “Just buy the stuff and let’s go!” he said.

Rosie reached down into his pocket and pulled out a roll of Confederate bills. He paid for the patent medicine, and as the two soldiers went outside he said, “Now, I’m gonna get my heart fixed up at last.”

Drake knew that there was nothing at all wrong with Rosie’s heart. He had seen him go through battles that put most men past their endurance—without even breathing hard.

At the Holcomb house, Lori welcomed them, and Charlie came hurrying in from the yard where she had been feeding the chickens.

Rosie made a point of walking over and shaking hands with Charlie. “Hello there, Charlie,” he said. “You’re lookin’ mighty fine.”

“Hi, Rosie. I’m glad you came. You been doin’ any fightin’ with the Rebels?”

“Oh, no,” he said. “They’re all on the run. I did hear that there was gonna be some fightin’ back in Tennessee where General Hood’s gone, but all we
got to do is set in Atlanta here and be sure the Rebels don’t come back.”

“I got some buttermilk, Rosie. Come on, and I’ll get it for you.”

“That sounds good. Buttermilk’s good for an upset stomach.”

Charlie looked at the tall soldier. “Is your stomach upset?”

“Well, it ain’t
now
, but it might be. But if I drink that buttermilk, it won’t be, will it now?”

He followed her into the kitchen, where Charlie poured him a tall glass of buttermilk and watched him drink it with relish. Then he pulled a medicine bottle out of his pocket and said, “Look at that. I got me some new heart medicine.”

“I didn’t know anything was wrong with your heart. You sure don’t look like it. You’re such a big, fine-lookin’, strappin’ fella.”

Rosie stared at her with astonishment. He knew that in fact he was tall, gangly, and not at all handsome. “Been a long time since someone said that I was fine-lookin’. I guess not since my mama said it back when I was a baby sittin’ in the cotton row.” He drank the last of the buttermilk and grinned. “Maybe they got some medicine to make you good-lookin’.”

“You look good enough to me. I sure like tall, lanky fellas. They look so much better than the little, short, stubby ones.”

“Well, I’m tall enough, I reckon.” He studied her, admiring the rosiness of her cheeks. She had very attractive features too. Her lips were red, and her eyes were large and widely spaced. He admired especially the unusual, curly brown hair. “What have you been doin’ with yourself, Charlie?” he asked.

Soon they were deep in conversation at the kitchen table. Rosie, who was rather good at getting information out of people, found out many things about this young woman. Finally he said, “I might come callin’ on you sometime.”

“Callin’ on me? Why, you’re here now.”

“No, I mean like a young man callin’ on a young lady. I ain’t ever done much of that, but I guess I could get into practice. Maybe you could put on a dress, and we could go to downtown and let ’em see what we look like.”

Charlie smiled. “I don’t know about the dress. I’ve only got one, and I haven’t had it on for two years.”

“You haven’t had on a dress for two years?”

“No, been pretty busy with the farm. Oh, I mean except for church. Course, I wear it to church every time I go.”

Rosie thought that most young women would not have been satisfied with one dress, but he was learning things about Charlie, and he liked what he saw.

Later on, Drake and Lori and Rosie and Charlie went into the sitting room and looked at old pictures in Mrs. Holcomb’s family album. As usual, such pictures were amusing, and the four of them enjoyed them very much. Afterward, Lori said, “How about some music?”

“That would be mighty fine,” Rosie said with enthusiasm. “Drake, play us a tune on that fiddle over there.”

Drake picked up the violin from the table. He fingered it for a moment, tuned it, then began playing a lively song.

“Why, I know that,” Charlie said. “We sing it all the time around Macon.”

“Let’s hear you sing it,” Rosie said.

At once Charlie began singing a folk song that was popular all over the South. She had a clear, powerful, and very sweet voice.

When she finished, Lori said, “Charlie, you have a beautiful voice!”

“Well, I just sing mostly church songs.”

“Then sing one of those,” Lori said.

Without any accompaniment at all, Charlie began “Amazing Grace.” She sang it simply and without the benefit of musical training, but the beauty of her voice filled the room.

When she was through this time, Rosie said, “That do beat all I ever heard! You’re a regular canary!”

For the rest of the evening Drake played and sang, many times accompanied by Charlie. She did not know all the songs he did, but when their voices did join, they blended together very sweetly.

But as the evening went on, Drake grew restless. Charlie had not been more than three feet away from him for two hours. He finally whispered to Lori, “Can’t we get away from these two? That Charlie, she’s worse than a chigger!”

“Don’t say that, Drake. She’s very much alone.”

“I can’t help that. I didn’t take her to raise.”

The evening finally came to an end, and the two men reluctantly rose to leave. They said their goodbyes to the girls and started down the street. They had not gone more than ten feet before they heard Charlie’s voice.

“Drake—wait a minute!”

He turned with some surprise, and Charlie came bounding up and looked into his face. She seemed
nervous, and her lips trembled a little, but she said firmly, “I got somethin’ to tell you, Drake.”

“What is it, Charlie?”

“Well, when Pa sold the farm in Macon,” she said, “he got the sale price of it in Federal money. I got it all. We ain’t spent hardly none of it, me and Pa. Well, now he’s gone and buried, and I got to do somethin’.”

Drake could not imagine what in the world Charlie was leading up to. He glanced at Rosie, who appeared equally puzzled. “What is it you want to do?”

“I want you and me to marry up, Drake—and then we can take the money, and we can buy us a farm.”

Drake’s jaw dropped. He was aware that Rosie had gasped. He looked carefully at Charlie to see if she was joking—and saw that she was not.

“It’s almost five hundred dollars, Drake—in Union money. We can buy a place with a house on it, and a barn, and some stock. And I can plow as good as any man. Together, you and me could have a good farm.”

Drake had faced many a crisis but nothing like this. He pulled his handkerchief out and wiped his brow, which suddenly seemed to be covered with sweat. He looked over to Rosie for support, but the tall, gangling soldier looked to be so stunned he could not speak.

At last Drake said firmly, “Charlie, that’s not the way it’s going to be. We don’t even
know
each other. I appreciate your offer, but I’m just not thinking of getting married right now. Good night, Charlie.”

He turned and walked away as quickly as he could.

Drake did not see the tears come into Charlie’s
eyes, but Rosie did. Rosie reached out and took her hand. “Don’t feel bad, Charlie. It just came as a shock to him.”

“He don’t want me.”

“You’re a fine girl, and you’ll find somebody someday. I’m afraid Drake and you wouldn’t get along too well anyhow. He’s kind of a high flier.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means he’s had lots of girlfriends. He’s real popular, bein’ a musician and all, and besides, he’s in love with Miss Lori.”

“He is?”

Rosie saw that the girl was totally taken unaware by this.

“I thought he just liked her,” Charlie said simply. “Guess he thinks I’m a regular fool.” She turned away from him and went inside.

Rosie watched her go. Then he ran and caught up with Drake, who was still walking rapidly. “Wait a minute, Drake.”

Drake turned to him. “Did you ever hear of such a thing, Rosie?”

“No, I never did.”

“She must be crazy!”

“No, she’s not crazy. She just hasn’t had as many breaks as some other folks have.”

“Well, she’s just got to get
that
idea out of her head! Do you think she understood when I said no?”

“She’s real cut up about it. I could see that.”

“I wouldn’t even
consider
marrying that girl.”

“I don’t know about that, but I do know one thing.”

“What?”

“I know she offered you all she had and didn’t ask for much in return.”

Drake stared at him, then shook his head. “It’s crazy, and I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

Knowing Drake’s stubbornness, Rosie said no more. But as they walked on, he kept seeing the hurt look on Charlie Satterfield’s face, and he thought,
Drake’s gonna have to be careful, or he’ll hurt that girl real bad
.

C
harlie plunged on out in front of him. “Hurry up, Rosie! They can’t be far ahead.”

They had come to the woods with a borrowed set of guaranteed possum hounds, and now that the sun was falling in the sky, Rosie was hot, sweaty, and scratched from head to toe by briars. Panting, he struggled free from the clinging vines that reached out and grabbed at him. “Wait up for me, will you, Charlie? I can’t get through this blasted brush!”

Charlie turned and laughed when she saw him scrambling awkwardly along the path. “I’ve got to give you some lessons in possum hunting, Rosie,” she said. Placing her hands on her hips, she waited until he came up to her. She made a rather fetching picture standing there. When she pulled off her straw hat, her brown curls sprang up at once, caught in the late afternoon breeze.

“You sure are somethin’ on a trail!” he exclaimed. He took a deep breath. “I thought I’d been on some hard trails before, but I never saw anybody that could follow a pair of coon dogs like you can.”

His praise brought a flush to Charlie’s smooth, round cheeks. She blinked at the compliment but then put it off by saying, “I guess anybody that’s been out in the woods chasin’ possums since they were four years old, like I been, ought to learn a little somethin’.”

Suddenly the plaintive howl of a dog sounded from up ahead. “They’ve treed him! Come on, Rosie!” She ran through the woods like a young deer.

Rosie followed as best he could. He found her standing under a huge persimmon tree, staring up into the branches. The dogs were wild, barking and standing on their hind legs and trying to climb the tree.

“Will you fellas shut up!” Rosie said. He leaned against the tree and wiped his brow with a red bandanna from his back pocket. “A man in my condition hadn’t ought to go around chasin’ possums through the woods in this heat!”

Charlie turned to him. “Maybe you ought to take another one of those pills,” she suggested, her full lips curving up in a smile.

Sensing he was being teased, Rosie stuffed his handkerchief back into his pocket. “You just don’t understand a man who’s got health problems like I have,” he said. “Why, I remember just two years ago the doctor told me I didn’t have two weeks to live.”

“Did you die?”

“No, I didn’t die, but I thought I was going to. I had to take nearly a quart of liver medicine. Worst tastin’ stuff I ever had. Anything that tasted that bad
had
to be good, though. So it cured me all up.” He peered into the upper branches of the tree. “I think I see him up there. One of us will have to climb up and knock him out.”

“How are you at climbing trees?” Charlie asked.

“Not very good. It’s not good for my rheumatism.”