Leigh Ann's Civil War (5 page)

***

The Roswell Guards would assemble to listen to some orders and instructions, so we still had time. Viola came to my room to inspect my toilette. Careen had been helping me dress.

Viola did a muster of her own. Was my hair fixed right? Were my pantalets white enough, my hoop skirt manageable, my shoes spotless? How many petticoats was I wearing?

I think she felt, at fifteen, the drawing away of her mother's love and wanted to make sure I didn't miss the care at least. Her fussing over me was the sweetest deed imaginable.

"Where is your sash? I told you, a pink sash goes with that dress."

"It makes me look like a little girl."

"Well, I haven't discovered you to be anything else. Careen, get the pink sash."

It was fetched and she slipped it on, turned me around, and made a solemn business about making me a splendid bow.

"I want to be grown up like you," I mumbled.

She turned me around. "Mother of God, not
this
again! I told you, you soon will be. What's the big rush?"

"You have beaus. And if you don't have one to escort you to dances, either Louis or Teddy or sometimes
both
take you."

She sighed and drew me to her. "We won't be having that anymore, Leigh Ann, with the war and all. Lots of things will change. I won't have any beaus. They've all gone for soldiers. I'll likely be an old maid."

"Louis said it will all be over by Christmas."

"That's not what Johnnie said. And his father is a high mucky-muck officer. Now, speaking of Louis, tell me, did he give you that silver pendant you were wearing last night at dinner? And that you've got hidden under your dress this very moment?"

She was like Teddy. I could not run rings around her. She ordered me, in a voice too much like Teddy's, to unbutton the top of my dress and take the pendant out.

I did so.

She took the pendant in her hand. "It's beautiful," she said reverently. "Louis didn't give me one."

"I don't think he has any more," I lied.

"Why did you hide it today? Did Louis tell you to?"

"No. He said if anyone took it away from me, he would do some bad things to that person with Indian prayers and smoke."

"Ohhhh." Careen raised her hands above her head and turned around and around, chanting, "That Louis has powers, he do!"

"Hush, Careen," Viola scolded. But she believed it without question. "So he told you the family secret. Well, it's about time. They both threatened to disown me if I told you. Now, you wear the pendant outside the dress, like you're supposed to. And listen: I have something important to tell you."

I knew what was coming, but I let her have her say.

"Teddy and Louis have left me in charge of you. Which means you are to mind me. Do you think you can do that?"

I said yes, I could. "We've always been friends, haven't we?"

"But that's just it. It has to be different now. Sometimes you'll have to forget that I'm your friend. Sometimes I'll have to forget. Like with you and Teddy."

I made a pouting face. "You won't spank me, will you?"

"Of course not. Teddy doesn't, does he? It's why he left me in charge and not Carol. A copy of the paper saying I'm in charge is being registered with the mayor's office. Now come on. Let's go see the boys off."

The Roswell Guards had gone through inspection, heard the orders of the day, and were now released to say final goodbyes. The town square was filled with families, children and dogs running about, and sutlers selling coffee and hot buns.

In an instant both Viola and I spotted the new Confederate flag fluttering in the morning air. "Oh," Viola gushed. "Look, Leigh Ann. We've never seen one before!"

I was used to seeing the Stars and Stripes. This one had stars and bars and, oh, it was beautiful! And then Viola nudged me again. "Look!"

Louis! Across the square he was headed toward a brown-haired, slim woman in periwinkle blue. She looked to be about nineteen. The word "pretty" did her an injustice. With her was a girl about Viola's age in pink, just as lovely. They were sharing the weight of a blue silk flag decorated with large white satin letters—RG. It had eleven satin stars and blue tassels.

They handed the flag to Louis, who in turn handed it to his commander. The band was playing "Soldier's Joy," an old country tune. It was a perfect moment.

Viola and I
ooh
ed and
aah
ed as Louis took the girl by the shoulders and kissed her politely on the cheek. Everybody clapped—for the flag or for the kiss, they did not know.

But I knew. It was for Louis, who wanted to kiss her on the mouth, like a lover, but was too honorable to do such in public. Louis, who was nothing if not honorable.

"Who is that?" I asked Viola. She did not answer.

Teddy came over, grinning. "You girls think Louis is a monk? That's his lady love, Camille Smith. The family is important but lives simply in a spacious farmhouse north of town. He's been wooing her these last six months."

"Why didn't he tell us?" Viola said with a pout.

"You all know Louis is closed-mouthed. With the war coming, I suppose he didn't want to make any carved-in-stone announcements."

"I wish we had made the flag," Viola said enviously. "And I'll wager she took those tassels from her cape."

"Now, now, there's plenty of work to be done," Teddy told her, "and the women will soon be organized to do it. You'll have your share."

"I see Johnnie," Viola announced. "I'm going to join him."

"Go ahead," Teddy said. He smiled at me. "You got any beaus waiting, sweetie?"

I hugged him. "I can knit. I'm going to make you a pair of socks."

He picked me up and kissed me. "Sweetheart, I'm going to miss you terribly." There were tears in his eyes. "Now why don't you go and say goodbye to Louis while there is still time."

Now the band was playing "Barbara Allen." I made my way through the crowd and came up behind Louis and listened before he knew I was there.

"Why is the band playing old mountain songs?" Camille was asking him. "Before they played a song from when we belonged to the Union. Why don't they play 'Dixie'?"

"The bigwigs don't want it as our official theme song because they think it lacks dignity," Louis told her, "but our band will play it. You'll see. We have no other war songs of our own yet. Our music is going to have to be written from loneliness and sorrow, fear and the strange geography of war. Out of tears, not ink. All we have in our heads now is dancing times and feasting times. Times of hunting and family and times with beautiful girls like you. Only the backcountry folk know how to write soulful music."

"You're so right, Louis," she said fervently, "and you always know how to put things into words when no one else does."

Then she saw me. "Yes, little girl, may we help you? Are you looking for someone?"

Louis turned, saw me, and grinned. "Camille, this is my little sister, Leigh Ann." He drew me toward him, and then like Teddy he picked me up.

"Well, I've heard so much about you," Camille offered.

She was a lot like Louis. Her eyes gave off that special kindness in a warmth that reached out to you. She was not like Carol. Not one bit.

"I understand you give your brothers quite a time of it," she teased.

I blushed. I did not know what to say.

"Listen," she whispered, leaning toward me, "Louis loves you very much. And so, I understand, does Teddy. You're a lucky little girl." She kissed me on the cheek.

Tears came into my eyes. I reached out my arms and hugged her, breathing in the scent of lavender. Then I hugged Louis, burying my face in his neck.

He patted my back. I whispered to him that I was going to leave him now so he would have time with his lady love. He kissed me and set me down. And I ran, not looking back.

The band played "Hail Columbia."

Too soon sharp orders rang through the soft Georgia morning air, where sharp orders did not belong. Soft breezes belonged, as Louis would say, and peach trees in blossom in the middle of February, and the neighing of sleek horses in the meadow, the low, heart-rending songs of the negroes at sunset.

Commands rent the air, and the men complied like toy soldiers, rifles already a part of them, gray uniforms already etched in our memories.

The band played "Dixie." It was rousing. People cheered.

And then we stood, stunned, watching our loved ones go.

Tears fell on every female face in the crowd. Sentimental tears. Bitter tears.

We stood staring until the last dust raised by the men had settled and the town was quiet. Until the men were gone.

Gone where? I could not accept this word
gone.
Viola was crying, and she held my hand and I was gulping tears, too. I turned around and saw Camille and her sister going in the opposite direction. Camille waved at me and I waved back.

She left a warm place inside me, Camille did.

***

We went back to the homestead. Pa was settled in his rocker on the verandah, the boy named Jon giving him a second, or third, cup of coffee.

"Well, did they march off like the toy soldiers they are?" Pa asked.

Viola burst into deeper crying and ran into the house. I stood there. "Yes, sir," I answered, "they're gone." I could see he was very much himself this morning.

"Did your mother go to see them off?"

"No, sir," I said.

He answered with a word I would spend two hours in a chair in the library for using.

"Come here and give me a kiss," he said.

I did so. He was cleanly shaved and wore a crisp white shirt and trousers. He smelled of tobacco and mild soap. Jon was doing his job, but I wished he wouldn't linger and watch us. Pa hugged me strong. "I'm here to take care of you," he said. Then he released me.

The empty house was not to be borne at first.

I expected to see Teddy come out of Pa's library and demand,
Well, where have you been? You missed breakfast, and you know I won't tolerate that. Where have you been?
I couldn't tell him, of course. Because I'd been down to the stream with Careen, and with some lighted torches, we'd smoked some snakes out of a pile of rocks. Teddy would have a hissy fit if he found out. Anyway, he would set me down in a chair in the library and pick up a book and I'd have to sit there for an hour until he thought I'd been sufficiently punished. No matter that I was about starved or that I had to pee. Neither request would move him.

I would give anything to have that hour in that chair in that room with him now.

I stood in the wide center hall, looking at the Persian runner, the Duncan Phyfe table, the gas lamp, the hunt scenes on the walls, as if I'd never seen them before. How many times had my brothers clambered down those wide, carpeted stairs?

The emptiness of the rooms mocked me. Normally I wouldn't even bother with my brothers, or them with me, if they were home. My chief goal would be to avoid them so that I could go about the business of my day, which would consist of mischief. Unless Teddy offered to teach me to bow-and-arrow hunt. Or swim in the stream. Or Louis suggested we ride into town and "see what all was going on."

I wished I could do something for them now. Maybe I could make some cookies and send them.

"What are you doing?" Careen sauntered toward me.

"Just wishing I could do something for my brothers."

She smiled. "You can. I can show you what you can do."

"What?"

"I can show you how to do a spell and tell if'n your brothers will be safe."

I gasped. "Let's do it," I agreed. Surely this wouldn't be naughty. Surely, this is what we all needed right now, wasn't it?

"We gots to have a fire," Careen said.

"In here?" I asked. "In this heat?"

"Jus' a little fire," she coaxed.

The fireplace in the front parlor had been scrupulously cleaned for the spring. Boughs of ivy had been expertly arranged inside over a few cords of beech wood.

"I gots matches," Careen said. "An' salt. Take away that ivy. We needs some paper to light the beech wood."

"We'll dirty the fireplace," I told her. And "What if we get caught?"

"You such a scaredy-cat. Massa Teddy ain't here to punish you. Anyway, anybody else catches us, all we say is we's doin' it for the boys. C'mon now, do as I say. Git some paper."

I ran across the hall to Pa's library, found an old newspaper, and brought it to Careen. She soon had a rosy glow going in the hearth.

"Now all's I gotta do is throw some bits of salt on the fire, an' in the sparks that flame up I'll see the messages we want. You gotta be still, though, and quiet. And think on your brothers. And chase out all other thoughts and noises."

I nodded. I trusted in her powers.

If her mother caught her she would be punished. She didn't care.

She looked at me now. "Take off the hoops," she said, "so's you kin get closer to me."

I stood up and did as she said, leaving my hoops on the floor. Now I was able to snuggle more comfortably near her. She reached into the pocket of her apron and threw a pinch of salt on the fire. It crackled and flamed up and made sparks. I jumped back.

"There, there!" she said in a loud whisper. "There I see Massa Teddy. He firin' a gun."

"Is he all right?"

"Yes." Another sprinkle of salt. More crackling flames. "He stopped firin'. He crawlin' on the ground to somebody. Crawlin' an' crawlin' to help somebody."

"Who?"

More salt. More flames. From out on the verandah I heard people arguing. I heard Cicero barking. The voices were loud and nasty. They sounded like Mother and Pa used to sound before Mother left home. I was hearing things, like forces were trying to distract me. Oh, I mustn't let them distract me. Careen had said I must block out all else if this spell was to work.

"Who is he trying to help?" I asked.

"
What is going on in here? What are you two terrible children doing, playing with fire? Do you want to set the house in flames?
"

Mother! She came up behind us out of nowhere. Mother? It couldn't be! She never came home! Was this part of the spell? Was I being dragged into some netherworld?