Billy Green Saves the Day (13 page)

Becoming light-headed, Billy stumbled off into the bushes where he dropped to his knees and vomited violently. “Oh, God ... oh, God,” he muttered as he continued to heave. Finally, he wiped his mouth clean and sat on the moist grass, trying to catch his breath.

“It wasn't what you thought it would be, was it?” General Vincent asked, with Colonel Harvey standing beside him.

Billy picked up his sword. “No, sir. No, it wasn't.”

Harvey smiled. “I'm glad you're alive, son. I was certain you were killed.”

Billy handed the sword to General Vincent. “Thank you, sir. It was a real honour.”

“I want you to keep it as a token of my appreciation,” Vincent said. “Keep the uniform, too. You're a brave lad.”

Billy eyes widened with surprise as he took the weapon in his hands and traced a finger along the length of the cold steel. “Thank you, sir.”

“I hear you want to join the militia,” Harvey said.

“Well, a militia can't do its work without music to march by.” He handed Billy the regimental drum.

Overwhelmed, Billy smiled from ear to ear. “Thank you, sir!”

Vincent and Harvey promptly took a step back and saluted him. “No, thank you, Billy Green,” Vincent said. “Enjoy your freedom. You helped preserve it.”

Billy's chin trembled as he raised his hand and returned the salute. Vincent and Harvey turned and walked toward their horses. “General?” Billy said. “What do you think will happen now?”

“We're going to chase them out of every square inch of this country and right back across the border,” Vincent said as he climbed onto his horse.

“Live a long and happy life, Billy,” Harvey said as the officers galloped off.

Billy watched them go until they were out of sight before he anxiously studied the sword and drum. His spirits lifted, he ran off to the base of the escarpment.

CHAPTER TEN

S
tanding outside the Green homestead, Billy watched as the lanterns were lit. The sun was just beginning to set, casting a pale orange over the western horizon. Billy waited, holding the sword and drum. He bit his lower lip, knowing he would be chastised by his father for the role he played in the battle. Billy wondered if he should turn around and run away. He could join the army. He could travel to battles in other parts of the world. That would be exciting as opposed to the boring, day-today existence of a settler from Stoney Creek. He would miss his family and the woods as a second home, but life offered too much not to take chances.

Billy turned and wandered over to the flour mill. He asked himself if he could work there until he found a vocation of his own, or would he fall into the rut of the family business and toil there until he died? And what about Sarah? He loved her so much, and with her father gone, they were free to marry. Whatever Billy did, it started now.

Slowly, he walked toward the house and went up the wooden stairs, which creaked beneath his feet. He peered through the window and spied his father sitting alone at the kitchen table. Billy's trembling hand reached for the knob, and he opened the door.

Adam looked over and studied Billy's dirty uniform from head to toe. “Are you a member of the British Army now?”

“No ... they gave me the uniform. General Vincent gave me his sword and Colonel Harvey gave me the regimental drum.” Billy held them up for his father to see.

“Put them down,” Adam said sternly, and Billy complied. Adam stood with his hands on his hips and inched closer to his son. “I ought to tan your behind, Billy.” He stared at the floor. “But Vincent and Harvey came by here a few hours ago and told me what you did. They said they were proud of you and thanked me for raising a brave son. Well, I've got news for you. I'm pretty proud of you, too.” Adam embraced his son. Relieved, Billy clutched his father as Adam kissed his forehead. “The people around here don't know it yet, but you're a hero, Billy.” Adam opened a cupboard, found two glasses and a bottle of wine, and happily poured.

“I thought you'd be mad at me,” Billy said, accepting a glass.

“There comes a time in a father's life when he knows his son is turning into a man. Sometimes that can be a hard thing for a father to face. You want your little boy around forever, to protect him and teach him right from wrong.” Adam raised his glass. “I've been blind because of that. You're a fine young man and I love you, Billy.”

Stunned at the sudden display of emotion, Billy smiled and raised his glass to toast. “I love you, too, Pa. And here's to the best father in the world.”

Adam shook his head. “No, son, to you, the boy, I mean, the
man
, who saved a nation.”

They clinked glasses, and Billy downed the alcohol. The liquid caused him to cough and his face reddened.

Adam laughed and poured him another. “And you thought we liked this stuff,” he said as Billy took a seat. Adam sat directly beside him and wrapped his arm around him. “So tell me, what did you see? What was it like? Tell me all about it.”

“Well ...” Billy said, but broke off. He began to shake as his eyes filled with tears. Soon he cried uncontrollably and trembled violently as Adam rocked him in his arms.

“What's wrong?” Adam asked as Billy wept even harder.

Billy clung to his father. “I saw so much. I was so scared. I thought I'd never see you again. I saw so many men killed. It was horrible. They were so young, and I had to kill a man. No, he was a boy, like me. Oh, God! Once I take this uniform off, I'll never put it on again. I swear it!”

Adam hugged Billy harder and fought back his own emotions. “You're all right, son. You're safe with your father now. You're okay.”

“I should've listened to you. You were right, Pa. War isn't a glamorous thing. It's something I never want to see again. I thought that's what I wanted, but I don't.” He wiped away his tears.

“That's when you know you're a man, Billy. When you have to go out in the world and see things for yourself. Parents can only tell you so much and then we have to let go so you can find the truth yourself.” Adam smiled. “I'd say you're a man now.”

“Thanks, Pa. I'd better go see Sarah.” Billy started for the door.

“I saw her before,” Adam said, rising to grip his son again. “We watched the battle from the hill. I've never been so scared, thinking you were wounded or worse.”

“Samuel Foote's dead,” Billy said quietly. The grim news caused Adam to sit again. “I'd better go tell her.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Adam asked.

Billy turned toward him in the doorway. “No, that's part of being a man, too, isn't it?” Adam nodded. “Pa?

We've got orders to fill in the morning, right?”

“We do, Billy,” Adam said, smiling again.

“I'll be here,” Billy said happily, then disappeared out the door.

Adam raised his glass. “I know you're anxious to see your baby again but, my sweet wife, he's going to stay for a while if that's okay with you.” He sipped the wine.

Billy strode along the path leading to the Foote homestead. He peered through the darkness and spied a team of horses hitched to a wagon stacked with baggage. Billy sprinted for the door. He flung it open and moved from room to room, but Sarah was nowhere in sight.

“Sarah!” Billy shouted as he searched every corner of the home. He bolted out the door and rushed into the barn, but she wasn't there, either. “Sarah!” he cried again. Suddenly, he spotted her sitting beneath a tree by the side of the house. Slowly, Billy moved toward her and knelt in front of her.

Sarah glanced up as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I was waiting to say goodbye. He ... he's dead, isn't he?”

Billy nodded.

“He was all I had left in this world,” she moaned.

“You still have me and you always will,” Billy murmured, kissing her.

Sarah caressed his face. “You look so handsome in that uniform. You know I can't stay here ...”

“Yes, you can. We can get married, and I'll work at the mill. We can get our own house.”

Sarah shook her head. “This place ... the memories. No matter where you and I go I could never forget. Being with you would always remind me.” She rose to her feet and started for the wagon. “It wouldn't be fair to me or you.”

“I love you, Sarah. Doesn't that mean anything to you?”

“I love you, too, but right or wrong, my father died fighting for what he believed in. And now that he's gone I have to believe in it, too. I owe it to his memory.”

She began to climb onto the wagon, but Billy pulled her back. “I can't believe I'll never see you again.” He hugged her. “I can't believe it's ending like this. Where will you go?”

“I have family near the border. I'll stay with them until I decide what I'm going to do.” She kissed him once more, then hopped into the seat. “Forgive me, Billy.”

Overwhelmed, Billy stood there in complete shock. “I could come with you. We could be together. You'll change your mind after time has passed.”

“I'm proud of you, Billy ... and I won't forget you,” she said, commanding the team of horses away.

Billy chased after her. “Sarah! Please don't leave!” he shouted as she forced the horses to run faster. “I love you, Sarah Foote!” he cried, coming to a stop in the road.

“I loved you, too, Billy Green,” she whispered with a breaking voice.

“Goodbye,” Billy said quietly as he watched the wagon disappear through the dust and into the night.

EPILOGUE

T
he dark sky warned of the coming winter as the wind swirled autumn leaves around the steps of City Hall in Hamilton. A few horse-drawn carriages drove by in the burgeoning city. Inside the government building a gathering of talkative senior men waited before a desk.

“Grandpa, whatever happened to all those men after the War of 1812 that you told me about?” a boy asked, sitting on his grandfather's knee.

“Well, let me see. James Madison, who was the U.S. president at the time, he fled to Virginia when the British burned down the city of Washington,” the old man said as the others listened intently. “They still say his decision to invade Canada was the worst blunder ever made by a president. His vice-president, George Clinton, died of a heart attack in office. He was the first to do so. And then there was William Henry Harrison. You remember him? His name was used as the password to get into the American camp that night. He was eventually elected president himself but caught a bad cold and died of pneumonia thirty days before he was supposed to take the oath. He was the first president to die in office.”

“Keep going, Grandpa,” the boy said as the others urged the old man to continue. “What about the American generals who were captured at Stoney Creek?”

“Well, both were exchanged for British prisoners about a year later. General John Chandler became a senator, and General William Winder was appointed to defend Washington, but the British burned it down, like I said.” He thought for a moment. “John Norton, the Indian, well, he got into a duel because some young buck was making advances on his wife. John killed him and was never the same after that.”

“What about the British officers?” the boy asked eagerly.

“Colonel Harvey eventually went back to Scotland, and General Vincent became ill and retired from the army. But you know the funniest part of that war? Right up until the 1850s, the Americans considered invading again.”

“Why didn't they?” the boy asked.

“I guess we gave them such a good whipping the first time they didn't want to try again,” the old man said with a wink.

“So we won?” the boy asked happily.

“Well, the British won militarily, but the Americans convinced the English to drop their allegiance to the Indians. After that the Americans were free to attack the Indians and steal their land. And that's exactly what they did.”

“But what about Billy Green?” the boy asked. “Whatever happened to him?”

“I'm not sure,” the old man said as a town official and a military attaché sat at the desk. “I heard he got married to a local girl and had a family. He might still be alive, or maybe he moved away.”

After leafing through some papers, the town official lightly tapped his gavel. “Quiet, please,” he said, and the room gradually fell silent. “In this the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and seventy-six, I hereby call this meeting to order.” He consulted a piece of paper. “As you know, the federal government of Canada is granting pensions of twenty dollars each to the veterans of the War of 1812. When your name is called, please sign your name and payment will be issued.” He waved a pencil in the air, scanned another sheet, and peered over his bifocals. “Is there a Mr. Billy Green here, please?”

There were a few awed whispers as the men looked around to discover an elderly gentleman in his eighties wearing a dark coat and hat sitting at the back of the room.

Billy got to his feet and shuffled to the front with the aid of a cane. He removed his cap, revealing thinning silver hair, but there was still a sparkle in his eyes. “I'm Billy Green,” he said gruffly.

The town official studied the senior citizen before him and then checked a sheet held by the military man. “Your military action, sir?” the official asked.

Billy steadied himself with the cane, moistened his lips, and stood at attention. “I was present at the Battle of Stoney Creek on June 6, 1813. I led the British Army under General Vincent to the Gage house.” Billy peered around the room. “I proudly wore the uniform of a British soldier. I saw combat ... and killed the enemy.”

“That must have been a great event in your life,” the military man said.

“It was the darkest, sir, and something I'd like to forget,” Billy quietly replied as the others in the room stared at him in confusion.