Echoes of Dark and Light (22 page)

I grinned proudly. “Yep!”

Toby nodded slowly in approval. “Not bad. Where in the blazes did you come up with this?”

“Why, my brother, Robert, of course. I learned from the best.”

Another volley of rock-filled snowballs rained down on us, though this storm seemed to contain more rock than snow.

“They’re getting closer,” Woody announced unnecessarily. “What’s the plan?”

“I don’t think using me as hostage will work this time.” Cora gingerly fingered her cut cheek. “They don’t seem troubled with throwing rocks at a girl.”

“It’s getting dark,” Toby pointed out. “We should use that to our advantage.”

“Good idea.” I nodded. “That and Kenny’s earlier suggestion of splitting up and circling back around on them should catch them off guard. Do we have enough ammunition?”

“Yeah,” Woody squatted down to divide the supply. “I’ll divvy them up.”

Within moments, we split off, Woody and Cora to the left, Toby and me to the right. Kenny stayed put to throw the attackers off our plan. Then under the cover of shadowy darkness and loud, rather rude taunting, we snuck off to confront the enemy in our own blue uniform.

A warmish winter breeze had blown in with the falling dusk, and the few inches of snow blanketing the Tennessee landscape melted fast. I stepped in a muddy hole and felt the slush seep frigidly in through the holes of my boots. The secret weapons had begun melting, dripping manure between my fingers, and I silently begged them to hold it together just a few more minutes. Never had Robert’s ingenious secret weapon had so deserving a target.

Toby and I crept around behind Jimmy’s gang, keeping a safe distance hidden in the shadows. I could just barely make out the creeping outlines of Cora and Woody across the clearing. We could hear Kenny’s torrent of insults shouted out in order to distract from our sneak attack. Then, just as Toby and I slipped into position, Kenny leapt out from behind the medical supply tent, sacrificing himself for the greater cause.

“Hey you sorry excuse for human beings,” he yelled, and then quickly ducked to avoid the worst of the storm.

Our signal! Toby and I leapt out of the shadows firing our homemade, all natural ultimate weapons. The juicy manure snowballs splattered upon impact, the aroma clinging to the intended targets and wafting in the rising fog. Howls of rage erupted, attracting hundreds of curious bystanders who quickly burst out in roguish laughter at the bullies’ expense. We chose that moment to slip anonymously into the crowd. No witnesses equals no verdict; it would be just their word against ours.

The five of us met up at the nearby creek to erase any remaining traces of evidence and to survey the damage. Except for the cut on Cora’s face and some bumps and bruises, everyone checked out okay. We quickly dispersed, Cora returning to her father’s cabin and us to ours.

On the way, we borrowed a few flaming sticks of firewood from our neighbors and threw them into our own fireplace. By the time they arrived, physically and odorously, we had ourselves sitting around our table, cups of coffee in hand and checker game in play.

“What happened to you, brother?” Kenny asked innocently when Kevin and his friends burst through the door.

“Like you don’t know,” Kevin growled.

Of course we knew, and we knew that they knew, but it was just too much fun to feign innocence.

Jimmy pointed a large knuckled finger at us. He didn’t say anything at first, waiting until he had everyone’s complete attention. “I swear we will get each one of you back for this.” Jimmy turned and left, his cohorts close on his tail.

I glanced over at Toby nervously, and found uneasiness mirrored in his eyes. I wasn’t too worried about me; I could take care of myself. But in the gathering twilight and rowdy chaos, had Jimmy noticed Cora in our group?

Sweat beaded on my forehead and trickled down my back as I stood over the steaming kettle of boiling laundry. My shoulders ached in protest as I tugged the heavy stick through the thick mass of uniforms, socks and long underwear. Once again, I regretted sharing the fact that I’d helped with Gran’s laundry business back home. Slightly un-unanimously, on a vote of three to one, I’d been elected official wash soldier of our cabin. With a groan, I let go of the stirring stick and watched it make another half rotation on its own before easing to a stop. I’d promised the camp cooks I’d return their big kettle to them before dark, but my muscles demanded a much needed break. As I stepped away from the steam bath, the evening’s frigid air set a chill down my sweat-soaked body. I reached for my discarded coat and shrugged into the sleeves. I must admit to one benefit of laundry duty: I could catch any bloodstains on my under britches. I rubbed absently at the cramps clenching my lower belly as I sat down next to Kenny.

“What are you reading?” I asked, plopping down on the bench beside him.

“
Waverly Magazine
,” he said, tossing the pages back to display the cover. “Hey, take a look at this and tell me what you think.” He flipped to a dog-eared page at the back. He pointed to an ad, and then read it aloud. “’Attention well-mannered soldiers ages seventeen through twenty looking for pen friends. Beautiful eighteen-year-old young ladies volunteering to correspond with our soldiers in blue. Highly respectable.’” Kenny looked up at me hopefully. “Well, what do you think?”

I pulled the magazine closer and reread the ad. “Seems legit. I know lots of women back home just itched for some way to help with the war effort. Are you going to respond?”

Kenny sighed. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just that it gets a bit lonely here, you know that. And I see you smiling while reading letters from your gal Emma—”

“Emma’s not my girl; she’s just a friend,” I protested.

“—and I kinda wanted something like that,” he finished, completely ignoring my interruption.

I groaned inwardly in frustration. Obviously none of my bunkmates believed what I told them about Emma. But, then maybe that could be good, something to lend credibility to my alias.
I wondered if Toby believes…doesn’t matter.
I looked over and found Kenny starring at me expectantly. “What?” I asked, suspiciously.

“So, should I write to one of these ladies? I’ve heard that sometimes they’ll exchange pictures. I don’t have one, but I caught a rumor that a sutler on the other side of the camp takes photographs.” He patted his pocket. “I still have my whole thirteen dollars of pay this month.”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea, Kenny. Maybe you’ll meet a really good friend.”

“Thanks, Bobbi. I think I’ll get started right away.” He ducked into our camp to retrieve paper and pen.

I stared at the steaming kettle of laundry, laundry that hadn’t managed to get itself done. I dragged myself up to finish the grueling task.

Soon I had our soggy laundry dripping from the rope strung between our cabin and our neighbor’s. With the night temperatures dropping below freezing, our clothes should be freeze dried by morning, and as stiff as Ole’ Man Jeffers’ joints. Speaking of Private Jeffers, I needed to return his kettle before he blew his own cranky lid.

“Just who we were looking for!”

I smothered a shriek of surprise as I dropped the empty kettle with a loud clang. Jimmy and his gang. I shook my head in disgust at my jittery nerves as I bent to retrieve the kettle. Still, I couldn’t help noticing the twinge of unease rippling through my belly; I hadn’t forgotten their threats. And from their malicious grins and taunting tones, I knew they hadn’t forgotten either.

“So,” Jimmy squatted down by the fire, “where’s your friend, Toby?”

I would never admit that I’d been wondering the exact same thing. Kevin and the rest of his tagalongs closed in around the hearth. And me.

“We’re right here.” Toby shouldered his way through the crowd. He came to a stop next to me, his shoulder touching mine. Kenny stepped out of the cabin and joined us.

The tension in my muscles eased slightly. One against seven is not good. Having two buddies on my side made slightly better odds.

“What do you want, Jimmy?” Toby’s voice sounded cold and hard, unfamiliar.

“Whoa, Private Dove, calm down. What, do you got a stick up your backside?” Jimmy pulled out a pocket knife and casually began picking at his dirty fingernails. “We just came to talk about the other day.”

“It was just a joke,” Kenny spit out. “Can’t you take a joke?”

Jimmy cut his cold glare over to Kenny. “A manure snowball in the face is not very funny to me. Would you like to try it and see if you laugh? I’d be very willing to help you out with that.”

“Gee, I’ll pass, thanks,” Kenny scoffed.

“If I remember correctly,” I offered, rubbing a bruise on my shoulder, “your snowballs contained more than just fluff.”

“Yeah, rocks!” Kenny’s face grew an angry red with the memory. “You can dish it out but you can’t take it!”

“What do you want, Jimmy?” Toby asked again, impatience weary in his voice.

Jimmy offered a slow, calculated smile. “We’ve come today to invite you to a game of poker.”

His words hung on the chilly evening air like the frozen clouds of my breath.
Poker?

“A little game of high stakes poker,” Jimmy explained. “You owe us that.”

“We owe you nothing!” Toby growled.

I put a hand on his arm to calm him. I had a feeling of where this headed. “What kind of stakes did you have in mind?”

“Well,” Jimmy shifted the knife’s attentions to picking dinner remnants from his teeth, “if we win, your group gets to perform a little service for us.”

“Just what kind of service?” Toby demanded, suspiciously.

“On that you’ll have to trust us,” Jimmy evaded coyly.

“Yeah, like we trust you about as much as a coiled up, cantankerous rattlesnake,” Kenny mumbled.

“That’s ridiculous!” I cut in. “Who in their right mind would agree to something before knowing the details. For all we know, you’d have us murder someone in his sleep!”

“Now, Bobbi, don’t go getting hysterical on us like a silly girl. We’d never have you kill someone; we’re soldiers, not murderers. Really, what an imagination!”

My face burned at his accusation for more than one reason.
Imagine, me hysterical like a faint-hearted girl!

“Believe me,” Jimmy continued in a bored voice, “our task isn’t illegal in any way.”

“Then why not do it yourself!” Kenny snapped.

“Because,” Jimmy returned with an air of bored impatience, “it comes with some risk of getting caught. Since it has to be completed anyway, it might as well be you screw ups who take the risk.”

“Ah,” Toby said, nodding, “so you lost a bet and now you’re trying to pawn off your debts on someone else. That’s real noble, Jimmy. No deal.”

“It’s just a practical joke,” Kevin sneered. “Don’t be such a baby.”

“Wait a minute,” I jumped in, “let me get this straight: we play a game of poker, something I’m pretty darn good at by the way, and if you win we complete this non-illegal practical joke. What about if we win?”

“Name it.”

“How about one hundred dollars?” Kenny gushed.

“Name something possible,” Jimmy revised.

“How about fifty dollars?”

“How about,” I interrupted, “you all leave Nurse Davis alone.”

Toby studied me for a long moment before turning back to Jimmy. “Good idea. We’ve seen you looking at her—”

“Everyone looks at Nurse Davis,” Kevin mumbled.

“—and we don’t like it. We agree to play a game of poker, and win or lose, your gang leaves Nurse Davis alone.” Toby folded his arms across his chest.

Jimmy contemplated the terms, and then nodded. “Good enough.” He stood and exchanged his knife for a battered deck of cards. “Everyone hear that? No one bothers Nurse Davis. Okay, now that we have our negotiations complete, deal the cards. Let’s keep it simple: me, Kevin, Toby and Bobbi.”

Kenny ducked into our cabin and quickly returned, dragging out our makeshift table and a bleary-eyed Woody nudged awake from a nap. Toby and I pulled up the logs smoothened by many a trousered cheeks, logs that we’d been guarding against our neighbors stealing for fuel in their fire pits, while Jimmy’s gang placed two ancient parlor chairs opposite. At one time, the chairs had been quite elegant. Now they looked as if a strong wind would topple them.