Read Jordan's War - 1861 Online
Authors: B.K. Birch
Chapter 27
Jordan sat in the
floor beside Henry’s chair and watched him as he pretended sleep.
“It’s over,”
Jordan whispered out the side of his mouth. “He’s out on the porch.”
“Where’s your ma?”
Henry whispered back.
“She’s out there
with him,” Jordan whispered.
“Get up, you big
fake,” Jim hollered as he walked back into the front room and smacked Henry on
the thigh.
“Ouch!” Henry
yelled and swatted at Jim with his good arm. Jim lunged to the side, diverting
the blow so it only caught the fabric of his overalls.
“You move pretty
quick for an old man,” Jordan laughed.
Henry was still
wincing from the pain.
“You’re damn lucky
you didn’t get the full prayer,” Jim laughed. “You’d have been up all night.”
“Shhh!” Jordan
hissed and pointed towards the door. Jim stopped talking and they all looked at
Ma and Reverend Summey through the screen door as they stood on the porch.
“Elijah, if you
have a moment, can we say a short prayer for Finnian, Tate, and Eamon?” Ma
asked.
“Is Tate with
them?” Reverend Summey asked.
“I think so.”
“Was that a wise
decision on Tate’s part?”
“I don’t know. It
was Tate’s decision,” Ma said.
“What have you
seen?” Reverend Summey asked.
“I’ve been too
afraid to look,” she admitted. “Why do you ask? It’s all witchcraft to you
anyway.”
Reverend Summey
put his arm around Bess and helped her get comfortable in one of the rocking
chairs. He scooted another one around to face her.
Jordan crept closer
to the door.
“These are hard
times,” he said.
“Yes indeed,” Ma
replied.
“The future of our
country hangs on the outcome of this war,” he said.
“Amen,” Ma said.
“The Confederacy
needs all the help it can get,” Elijah said.
“I understand
that,” Ma said.
Reverend Summey
leaned over and whispered into Ma’s ear. Jordan stretched his neck to hear but
their voices were too soft to hear anything.
“Eamon don’t need
to see the error of his ways!” Ma shouted and stood up. “He didn’t do anything.
Those men hauled him off with no proof. Maybe they need to see the error of
their ways!”
“If he did nothing
wrong, he would have been set free,” Reverend Summey said and stood up to face
her. “Why did he run away? Was he guilty of helping those spies?”
“They would have
killed him if he hadn’t escaped,” Ma cried.
“And you know
this?” Reverend Summey asked. “How?”
Ma stood with her
arms folded and glared at him.
“And how exactly
did he escape, Bess?” Reverend Summey asked then threw up his hand. “You don’t
need to answer. I already know. I don’t want any hard feelings. Boys are dying
everywhere. We must stand together as a community. We must fight those devils!”
“Those so-called
devils have families too – and they’re dying right alongside us,” Ma said. “I
cannot support something that I feel could eventually hurt my family.”
“How do you know
this?” Reverend Summey asked, using his pulpit voice.
“How can you not
know it?” Ma screamed back. “Good God Reverend, look around you. There hasn’t
been one moment of peace since this war began. We ain’t got no slaves and I
don’t reckon we need to be dying so some rich man down south can have his.”
Reverend Summey
adjusted his hat and walked down the steps to his carriage.
“Goodnight Bess,”
he said and rode off down the path.
Grandma emerged
from the shadows and embraced her sobbing daughter.
Jordan awoke to
the sun streaming through the curtains. Henry was still asleep beside him but
he was already dressed. It had been four days since he’d been shot and Grandma
seemed pleased with his healing. She didn’t say much but if it weren’t going
well, she’d have would have set out a piece of raw meat to hatch maggots by
now.
He sat up, found
his breeches and his shirt, and sauntered into the kitchen. The smell of
sausage gravy and biscuits lingered in the air, but it was evident by the clean
pots and clear table that breakfast was only a distant memory.
He stuck his
finger in the pot of gravy still warm, even though the cooking fire was now
only a few smoldering embers. A soft morning wind carried voices through the
open window and he stretched his neck to see where everyone was.
“Morning
sleepy-head,” Grandma said as she shuffled into the kitchen.
“Morning Grandma,”
Jordan said and kissed her cheek. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”
“Your ma said you
needed your rest,” she said and pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. “You
get any taller and I’m going to need the step stool to get your hair out of
your eyes. You want a biscuit?”
“Yeah,” Jordan
said and poured a cup of milk. “Has Henry been up?”
“He was awake
earlier, but he’s still tired,” she said and put a plate full of biscuits
drowning in white lumpy gravy on the table. “Sit down and eat.”
Jordan plopped
down. Grandma sat down at the table with him and leaned on her elbows.
“You look tired,”
she said.
“I’m fine,” Jordan
said. “I miss Pa a little though.”
“Well, you don’t
have to miss me anymore,” Pa said.
Jordan turned
around and saw Pa and Uncle Tate leaning in the doorway.
“Pa!” Jordan
squealed. He jumped up ran over and gave them both a big hug.
“Abigail,” Tate
said. “How’s my boy?”
“He’s asleep right
now,” Grandma said. “He’s going to be just fine though. It didn’t hurt the
bone.”
“Hallelujah,” Tate
said.
“Where’s Eamon?”
Jordan asked.
“Go on and tell
everyone we’re home,” Finnian said. “There better be some biscuits left.”
“There’s plenty,”
Grandma said. “Sit down and I’ll fix you a plate.”
“Where’s Eamon?”
Jordan asked again.
“Go get everyone,”
Pa said.
“Do as your pa
says,” Grandma said. “I’ll keep your plate warm.”
Jordan walked
outside and saw everyone running towards the house. Otter was running back and
forth across the backyard, barking and wagging his tail. Rusty lay stretched
out under the shade of the old oak tree, as if this was just any other morning.
“Why didn’t you
come and get us!” Willow shouted as she ran past him.
“I was,” Jordan
said. She was already inside by the time he got the words out.
Ma walked with Jim
up the path. Jordan waited until they reached him before he walked back to the
house.
“Do they look
alright?” Ma asked.
“I guess so,”
Jordan shrugged. He couldn’t tell any difference other than they both could use
a bath and Pa needed a shave.
Grandma kept her
word and his food was still warm when he got back inside. He took his seat
beside Pa.
The excitement and
commotion must have woken Henry because he was back in the kitchen sitting in a
chair beside Tate.
“Where’s Eamon?”
Ma asked and planted a kiss on Pa’s cheek.
“In the army,” Pa
replied.
“What!” Ma said.
“In the army,” Pa
said again.
“You better start
talking,” Ma said, and smacked him on the back of his head.
A heavy silence
fell over the room and an eerie darkness came over the kitchen as clouds
covered the mid-morning sun. The shock and confusion of the entire family electrified
the air. Jordan didn’t move, not even to chew the bite of warm doughy biscuit
that he’d just stuffed in his mouth.
“Bess,” Pa said.
“I think you need to sit down.”
“I don’t want to .
. .” Ma began to protest but Grandma pulled back a chair and motioned for her
to sit. She looked as though someone had knocked the breath from her.
“How could you?”
she asked. The way her voice trailed off told Jordan that either she didn’t
want to know the answer or she already knew the answer.
“He couldn’t come
home,” Pa said.
“We could have hid
him,” she said. Her hand trembled as she clenched a damp rag in her hand.
“Who knows how
long this war will last,” Tate said. “He’ll be safer there.”
“Safer with those
mongrel dogs?” Ma asked then her eyes widened. “Did you take him to Nealy?” A
glimmer of hope washed over her face.
Jordan slowly
began to chew the biscuit which by now was just a slab of mush on his tongue.
Pa looked at Tate
and grinned.
“No,” Pa said. “We
headed north . . . to Beverly.”
“That’s near our
old house,” Gunner said.
Jim put his
fingers to his lips and held Gunner close to him.
“Are they that far
north?” Jordan asked.
“The Federal Army
is,” Pa said.
“Oh Lord have
mercy!” Ma shouted and slapped her hand on the table.
Grandma chuckled
and put her hand over her mouth to cover her smile. It didn’t matter as the fit
got the best of her and she cackled the creepy laugh that always scared Jordan.
“Wait until
Reverend Summey hears about this,” she laughed.
“This is not
funny!” Ma snapped at her.
Pa pulled a
wrinkled piece of paper out of his pocket.
“He’s in Company
One,” Pa said and tossed the paper on the table. “They look like a sturdy lot
of men. They ain’t seen no fighting yet or so they said.”
“We can all write
to him,” Pa said. “I promised him we would. I can take letters to Marlins
Bottom twice a month or so.”
Ma stood up and
brushed the wrinkles out of her skirt.
“We tell no one,”
Ma said. “Is that clear?”
“Yes ma’am,”
Jordan said in unison with the others.
“Best get back to
work,” Pa said. “Ain’t nothing more we can do about it.”
Jordan stayed
behind to finish his breakfast while the others headed back to the field and
stared at his plate. He couldn’t believe it. Eamon was a Federal soldier. He
shut his eyes and tried to recall Eamon the night of the escape. Darkness and a
fleeting glance of Eamon’s bruised and bloodied face was the only image he
could recall.
“Why don’t you go
ahead and write your letter now,” Grandma said and laid a piece of milky white
paper, the steel nub pen, and the ink well in front of him.
He’d always been
reprimanded whenever he touched the pen, but now it was in front of him along
with a blank piece of paper to do whatever he wanted. A lump rose in his throat
at the thought of writing to Eamon. Would he ever see his older brother again?
He wanted to believe he would. He picked up the pen and tapped it on the table
for at least ten minutes before he wrote the first word.
Eamon:
I hope this
letter finds you well. We’re all fine here but we took it pretty hard when Pa
gave us the news. I guess it is for the best. The corn and potatoes are growing
bigger every day and the blooms on the beans have already blown away.
I’m glad you
only had to ride to Beverly to meet up with them and not all the way to
Fairmont like we did before. Maybe you’ll see Ester again.
Sergeant Hummel
came by looking for you the day after you escaped but we didn’t tell him
nothing. He was mighty curious of Henry’s hurt shoulder though. Henry will be
fine, but he smells a might ripe from Grandma’s herbs.
Sergeant Hummel
has one of his men standing guard at the end of the road and they’ll soon pay
us a visit.
I’m sure
Grandma will be the first to know if something happens to you. I don’t like you
leaving. Now I’ll have to do your work and mine. It might be better for you
though. Grandma told Sergeant Hummel that there was a sickness in the food so
be careful what you eat. Maybe you should just kill your own to be on the safe
side.
Keep your head
down and we’ll have to pray for you without Reverend Summey. You’re on the
wrong side now.
Your brother,
Jordan Sinclair
I had to write
this after Willow read my letter to check to see if I did my spelling right.
Me and Jim
found Sissy Mae over at Uncle Tate’s place. She shot at us but the gun had such
a kick to it that it knocked her backwards into the wall. Jim and me ran off
and Willow was plenty mad when Reverend Summey came calling that evening to
pray for Henry and Manny wasn’t with him. He had to go and see about Sissy Mae.
She still don’t know we ran off and left her lying there.
Willow did look
pretty in the new dress she made, but I was too scared to tell her.
Jordan sat on the
porch and watched the night’s first stars emerge in the fading blue sky and
wondered if Eamon could see them too.
The only sounds
were the crickets and Grandma’s rocking chair squeaking out a lonely droning
rhythm. Even though he was surrounded by family, he felt alone. There was no
chatter and no music or song. He held his knees to his chest as if somehow it
would fill the emptiness that ached in his heart.
“Someone’s
coming,” Jake said and pointed at a shadowed figure approaching the house.
Selie jumped up
and ran for Ma’s lap. Jordan got up and took her into the house.
“You go too,” Ma
said to Jake and Gunner.
“What about Jordan
and Henry?” Jake asked.
“They can stay,”
Pa said.
The boys scurried
into the house just as the light covered the visitor’s face. It was Sergeant
Hummel.
“Evening,” he said
and tipped his hat.
“Evening,” Pa
said.
“I want to thank
you for the medicine,” he said to Grandma. “It’s healing real good and there
ain’t no infection.”
“You’re welcome,”
Grandma said.
“Is your grandson
back yet?” he asked.
“I have one
sitting right here and one in the house,” she replied. “But ain’t none of them
the one you’re looking for.”