Fire Over Atlanta (9 page)

“You and your rheumatism! You’re one of the strongest men I ever saw, Rosie. But I like to climb trees. Here, give me a boost up to that first branch.”

Rosie shrugged but leaned over and picked her up bodily so that she could reach the lower limb.

Charlie gasped. “I didn’t mean for you to
throw
me up here!” She grasped the branch, pulled herself up on it with an acrobatic motion, and grinned back down at him. “Watch out, now. When I knock him loose, you catch him before the dogs tear him

She started upward into the foliage, and Rosie stood on the ground trying to follow her progress. The tree was tall, however, and the girl disappeared into the upper regions of the branches.

“Do you see him?”

“It’s not a him. It’s a her, and she’s got a whole passel of little babies on her back, hangin’ onto her tail.”

“Well, toss her down. The little ones will make good eatin’ too.”

“Ain’t gonna do that! Not with a mama.”

Charlie suddenly reappeared, stepping from branch to branch and easily climbing down.

When she reached the bottom limb, she said, “Here I come!” Without waiting, she launched herself into the air, and Rosie barely had time to throw his hands up. She struck him in the chest, knocking him backwards, and when he sprawled on the ground, she fell with him.

“Wuffff!”
Her weight knocked the breath out of him. Looking up, he saw her dark eyes laughing at him, and at the same time he became aware that she was not at all like any of the young men he had gone possum hunting with.

Suddenly Charlie’s cheeks flamed red. She scrambled up, stammering, “I—I didn’t mean to do that, Rosie! Are you hurt?”

Slowly he sat up, braced himself, and rose to his feet. He was rather embarrassed about the whole thing himself. “I guess I’ll live through a couple more clean shirts,” he muttered finally. “You sure are a funny girl, Charlie. I never saw another one like you.”

Charlie looked up at him. “What do you mean? Because I don’t wear dresses?”

“Well, there’s that—but you don’t
act
like a girl. Most girls I know would never think about going possum hunting, and they wouldn’t do what you just did—knock a fella down by jumping out of a tree at him.”

He saw hurt come into her eyes.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more what I ought to be. But I been raised so much like a boy, I guess I just think like one.” Her curls swung in the breeze. “I wish I
was
a boy. They have a lot more fun than girls.”

“I’m glad you’re not!” Rosie declared. “Plenty of ugly, hairy-legged boys around. What we need is more nice-looking girls like you.”

She looked up again, as though to see if he was teasing. “I know I’m not pretty like Lori is,” she said, “and I haven’t had much of a chance to learn how to put on pretty clothes. But I bet she can’t plow like I can.”

“I bet she can’t either.” Rosie grinned. Then he looked at the sky. “It’s gettin’ dark. We better get back. Not ladylike for a girl to stay out after dark with a soldier.” He added, “You know how soldiers are. Always romancing girls.”

Charlie was walking along with her long, free strides. She gave the lanky soldier a questioning glance. “Do you romance girls, Rosie?”

“Well, not as much as Drake. Fellas as homely as I am is not likely to be hangin’ around girls much.”

“Did you ever have a sweetheart?”

“I thought I had one once, but a better-lookin’ fella came along and took her away from me.”

Charlie thought about this. “I bet the one she got wasn’t as nice as you.”

The two walked through a stand of pines where the needles had fallen for years unharvested and untouched so that their steps made no sound at all.

As they continued, Rosie was amazed that Charlie seemed able to name every bird, every bush, every plant in the forest. “You sure do know the woods,” he said. “I was raised mostly in a small town. Although my folks farmed for a long time.”

“Did you like farming?”

“Sure did. I like it better than anything I’ve done since.”

“So do I. I like everything about it. I like breaking up the land in the spring and puttin’ the seed in. Then you wait, and pray for rain, and for lots of sun—and then one day little, tiny green tongues start coming up. There’s nothin’ like it, is there, Rosie?”

Rosie said, “I like it, but not everybody does. Pretty hard to work all year on a crop, and then have the bugs eat it up, or the floods take it, and just lose it all.”

“That’s just part of it,” Charlie said firmly. “When that happens, you just wait until the next year and try again.” They talked about farming a while longer, and then she changed the subject. “Tell me some more about Drake.”

“Drake? Well, he’s all kinds of a fella. Good lookin’,
as you can see, and can play a fiddle. Can do just about anything.”

Charlie digested that, then said, “I guess he’s had lots of sweethearts.”

“Quite a few.”

The brief answer did not seem to satisfy her. “I bet none of his sweethearts had a farm like I’m going to have. That ought to be in my favor, don’t you think, Rosie?”

Rosie did not answer at once. He walked along slowly, letting her match his stride. “It ought to, I guess—if he wants to farm.”

“Didn’t he ever farm? Didn’t he grow up on one?”

“No, his folks ran a store. He’s mostly a town fella, Drake is. He likes his comfort.”

The news seemed to depress Charlie, but then she brightened. “He’ll like it if we get a nice house.”

Rosie said slowly, “Charlie, have you ever thought that there might be more to gettin’ married than havin’ a place to go to?” When she turned to look at him, he threw his hands apart in a helpless gesture. “I mean, after all, two people don’t live together for all their lives just to have a farm, or a house in town, or a business. I mean, there’s more to it than that.”

“Oh, I know,” Charlie said. “Miss Lori talked to me about that. About romance, you mean.”

“Yes, about romance. A fella likes a little romance in his courtin’. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know. I never had any.”

“Didn’t any fellas come hang around you back in Macon?”

“Why, no. Well, maybe some of ’em did, but I knew they wasn’t serious. They was after the town
girls or the ones that had pretty dresses and knew how to dance. Mostly they let me alone.”

“I think you better study about how to make yourself more like other girls. If you’re gonna catch a fella like Drake—you gotta use the right bait.”

“What do you mean—bait?”

“A fish don’t bite a bare hook, does he? You got to put a nice, juicy worm on there.”

“Are you callin’ me a worm?”

Rosie laughed aloud. “Of course not! But a worm’s what draws the fish, and you know what draws fellas like Drake. You just said it. Fancy dresses and learnin’ how to be especially nice to a fella …”

“How would
you
want a girl to behave if you was lookin’ for one?”

“Me? Well now, I’m different from Drake. I’d just as soon go possum huntin’ with you as go to any old dance. But lots of fellas want a girl to tell ’em how handsome they are and smile a lot at ’em. Just stuff like that.”

“Maybe I can try to do some of that,” Charlie said. “It don’t seem to come natural, though. You’ll help me, won’t you, Rosie?”

“I can’t do none of that for you. I can just tell you what I think.” He hesitated, then said, “But I sure wouldn’t want you to make a mistake. You haven’t had much experience, Charlie, and Drake’s had a lot. That could be a bad combination.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, some fellas would take advantage of a girl.”

“I know that. I’ve seen enough of it, I guess. Although it’s never been tried on me.”

“Yeah, but you’re just practically throwing yourself at Drake, saying, ‘Here I am, take me.’ If a fella
didn’t have any honor, he might take you up on that, then leave you flat.”

Charlie’s cheek flamed. “I would never do anything wrong, and I don’t think Drake would either.”

“I just want you to be sensible. You’re a good Christian girl, and just remember that.”

Suddenly Charlie reached over and took Rosie’s hand. She squeezed it and then held it in both of hers. “You’re a good friend, Rosie. I never had a friend like you. I appreciate you helping me out.”

Rosie was very conscious of the girl’s warm, strong hands and of her large, winsome eyes. He wanted to touch the curls that adorned her head but knew that would be a mistake. “Charlie,” he said finally, “I just want you to have the best.”

“I tell you, Rosie, you got to keep that girl away from me! She’s driving me crazy!”

Drake had been walking guard duty when Rosie suddenly appeared out of the darkness. He’d been so startled he raised his musket and almost pulled the trigger.

“Give the password!”

It turned out Rosie didn’t know the password, and Drake glared at him, saying, “You’re gonna get yourself killed, jumpin’ out of the dark like that! What’s the idea, Rosie?”

“Got to talk to you, Drake.”

“Can’t it wait till tomorrow?”

“I don’t think so. We better talk now. You just go on walkin’. I’ll walk along beside you.”

“All right. What is it, then?” Drake resumed his patrol. He hated guard duty as he hated most things about the army. Actually he was glad Rosie had shown up, because he was growing lonesome and
the hours seemed to drag. “Where have you been?” he asked the rangy soldier.

“Been over to see Charlie.”

“Did you see Lori?”

“Sure, I saw Miss Lori. She gave me a piece of apple pie.”

“Did you bring any back for me?”

“Nope, I ate it all. That was the last piece too.”

“Rosie! You’re always fussin’ about how sick you are, and then you eat like a starving wolf! How did she look?”

“Charlie?”

“Lori!”

“I didn’t come over to talk about Lori. You and Royal talk enough about her. I came to talk about Charlie.”

And that was when Drake said, “You got to keep that girl away from me! She’s driving me crazy!”

“Drake, I want you to listen to me,” Rosie said. “You’re not acting right about Charlie.”

Drake whirled to face him.
“I’m
not acting right?
She’s
the one who’s not acting right. She follows me everywhere I go. I can’t turn around without her being underfoot. She doesn’t have any pride at all, and she doesn’t know a thing!”

“That’s right,” Rosie said quickly. “She
doesn’t
know anything, Drake. She hasn’t had a chance to. That pa of hers, he treated her like a boy and made her feel like a boy, and now she doesn’t know how a girl ought to act. But that’s not her fault.”

“It’s not my fault either!” Drake snapped.

When he started marching again, Rosie followed alongside. “Look, I know she’s aggravatin’, and I know you’re not interested in her. But she can’t understand that. If she’d been brought up like a girl,
she’d know these things. But all she knows is she likes you, and she thinks you ought to like her.”

“Did she tell you about the farm she’s going to buy me?” Drake asked.

“Sure she did, and you ought to be grateful for

it.”

“Rosie, you know I don’t
like
farms. I don’t like cows, or chickens, or plowing, or anything else about farms. If I ever get out of this army, I’m gonna go to a big city. Maybe San Francisco—or even New York—where something’s happening.”

“That’s all right, Drake. You may do that, but you got to figure out some way to do it without breakin’ Charlie’s heart.”

“I got all I can do to beat Royal out. I think he’s gettin’ the inside track with Lori. Look, if you want to do some good, just go to that girl and tell her that it’s useless and to leave me alone.”

“She wouldn’t believe me, but she’d believe you.”

“All right. I’ll tell her then.”

“Wait a minute.” Rosie reached out and pulled him to a stop. “I don’t like the way you said that. You got to be gentle with her. You could hurt her real bad.”

Drake stared into the darkness at his friend. He liked Rosie, but his nerves were on edge. He hated the army. He wanted out! If it had not been for Lori, he might have deserted long ago. “Look, you’ll just have to tell her yourself. I can’t do it to suit you, and I’ve already tried to hint around every way I know that I’m not interested in any girl in overalls.”

“She’s a fine girl, Drake.”

“That may be, but she’s not for me. Now, I don’t want to hear any more about it. Either you talk to
her, or I’ll tell her. And you could probably do it better than I could.”

Rosie stood in the darkness as Drake marched off. Then he turned and slowly made his way back to his tent, pulled off his shoes, undressed, and stretched out on his cot. For a long time he lay there, thinking about girls who hunted possums. “I never saw another one like her,” he whispered, “but she sure is headed for a fall.”

As soon as Royal walked into the house, Lori knew that something had brought him there other than just a visit. “Why, hello, Royal. You’re off duty tonight?”

“I got Ira Pickens to fill in for me. I had to talk to you, Lori.”

“Come on into the kitchen. I was shelling some peas.”

“No, let’s go into the sitting room.”

“Sitting room?” she said with surprise. “All right.” She led the way into the front room and turned up the lamp. It lit the room with a flickering, yellow glow. “Sit down, Royal. Is something wrong?”

Royal bit his lip and remained standing. “Yes, something is wrong, Lori.” He was not much taller than average, but Lori was so small that she had to look up. He studied her for a moment, then said, “You probably know what I’m going to say.”

Instantly Lori did know what Royal was going to say. Her heart began to beat faster, and she twisted her hands together nervously. But she said, “I … I guess you’ll just have to tell me.”

Royal took her hands and held them in his. “You know me pretty well, Lori. I’m not flashy like Drake.
I’m not tall like he is, and I can’t play any instruments. I’m just pretty average.”

Lori sensed this was very hard for him. “I don’t think you’re average, Royal,” she said quietly.

“You don’t?”

“Of course I don’t. I’ve always thought you were one of the finest boys I ever met.”