Let There Be Light (5 page)

“I understand, Mrs. Linden. And the War is daily taking its toll on the families with loved ones on the battlefields, as well as the men in uniform. I have a son in the army.”

“You do?”

“Yes. And it is terribly hard for my wife and me, knowing Brad is facing enemy guns almost every day.”

“Oh, bless your hearts. Then you know by experience what Jenny and I are going through.”

“Yes, ma’am. Leona—my wife—cries herself to sleep every night.”

Myrna moved her head back and forth slowly. “This horrid war has been going on for over three years now, Dr. Griffin. Maybe one of these days it will be over.”

Griffin sighed as he tightened the buckle on his medical bag and stood up. “I sure hope so. Well, it’s after six o’clock. I’d better be getting home. Leona will have supper on.”

Myrna rose from the rocker. “I will walk you to the door, Doctor. I wish Jenny could have come home while you were here. I want her to meet you. They don’t close the store till six, and then they have to do a little cleaning up before they can leave.”

“I’m sure I’ll get to meet her soon,” said Griffin. “She sounds like a very nice girl.”

They were moving toward the parlor door. “Oh, that she is. Would you like to see a picture of her?”

“Of course,” said the doctor as they stopped and Myrna stepped to the mantel.

Picking up a framed photograph of her daughter, Myrna moved to Griffin and handed it to him. “This is Jenny’s graduation picture.”

The doctor looked at the lovely blonde in the photograph and smiled at Myrna. “She’s beautiful, Mrs. Linden. And I think I can guess the color of her eyes. Blue, right?”

“Yes. As blue as the sky, Doctor.”

Griffin detected a spark of light in Myrna’s eyes as she spoke of her daughter. He grinned. “Just like her mother’s.”

She smiled as the doctor placed Jenny’s picture back in her hand. “Well, maybe a shade bluer. I wish I had her blond hair, instead of this mouse brown color.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Mrs. Linden. Your hair is the same color as Leona’s, and I love it.” He glanced at Jenny’s picture. “I have an idea that lovely girl has a lot of young men interested in her.”

“She does indeed, but all of them are away in the War, and she just stays home and takes care of me when she’s not working at the store.”

“She really does sound like a nice girl.”

Another smile tugged at the corners of Myrna’s mouth. “There’s
none better, Doctor.” She looked at the picture in her hand. “I’ll walk you to the d—” Her eyes fell on the photograph that lay on the table by her rocker, which she had been looking at when the doctor knocked on the door. “I have a picture of William in his uniform over here. Would you like to see it?”

“Certainly.”

Myrna hurried as best she could, set the framed picture back on the mantel, and picked up the one on the small table. Hurrying back, she handed it to him. “This is my William.”

Griffin set eyes on the photograph and nodded. “He is a fine-looking man, Mrs. Linden. He has the look of an army officer in his eyes.”

She raised her eyebrows and looked at the picture. “Hmm. I never thought of that. I guess he does. But even so, I want him home and out of the army.”

“That day will come,” said Griffin. “Well, I’d better get going, or Leona will fry my hide if I’m late for supper!”

When the doctor was gone, Myrna carried William’s picture with her and sat down once again on the rocking chair. Slanting the picture toward the lamplight, she sighed. “Oh, William, I miss you so much.”

And tears began to flow.

I
N DOWNTOWN
H
ARRISBURG
, Zack Henderson was moving about, dousing the coal oil lamps in the general store while his wife and Jenny Linden were behind the counter, arranging pencils and paper pads for business the next day.

“Well, that about does it,” Emma said with a sigh.

Purse in hand, Jenny moved around the end of the counter and picked up one of the newspapers off the stand. “Guess so. I sure don’t want to forget Mama’s paper.”

Emma headed toward the front door, which now had the closed sign facing the street on its window. Pulling it open, she looked back at Jenny, who was coming her way while double-folding the newspaper and placing it under her arm. “Does your mother really read every page in the paper every evening?”

“Every
word
,” Jenny said, chuckling as the two women stepped outside. “She really loves to read her paper. If I would forget to bring it to her, she wouldn’t know what to do after supper until bedtime.”

Zack put out the last lamp, which left the store in darkness except for the shadows cast by the light that streamed through the windows from the street lamps outside. As he stepped out and locked the door, Jenny ran her gaze both ways. The lamplighters had already done their job on Main Street.

Emma hugged Jenny. “You and your mother have a nice
evening. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sure will,” said Jenny. “Good night to both of you.”

The Hendersons bid Jenny good night and headed up the street. Jenny carried her purse and the newspaper and made her way the opposite direction. Already, Main Street was almost deserted. When Jenny reached the first intersection, she turned the corner and headed toward the residential area where the Linden house was located. The street lamps were few and far between on the residential streets, but Jenny was used to walking home in the dark.

When she reached the next block, which was overshadowed by lofty trees and bathed in the dim light coming from the street lamps on the corners, she headed across the street. Almost every house in the block ahead of her had lights twinkling in their windows. She had barely reached the other side when from behind her, she heard rapid footsteps.

She turned just in time to see the shadowed figures of two boys, close on her heels, running toward her. One of them snatched the purse from her hand, and both boys laughed as they kept on running.

“Hey!” she shouted. “Come back here!”

They were still laughing as they paused to look back at her, then ran on.

Jenny spied a length of tree limb lying next to the walk. She picked it up and hurled it at the legs of the boys. The one who had the purse in hand was a step or two behind his friend, and when the flying limb struck his ankles, his feet tangled in it. He went down with a yelp while his friend kept on running. Before he could get up, Jenny bent over and yanked the purse out of his hand.

She had rolled the newspaper up tight, and wielding it like a club, cracked him across the face. “Who do you think you are, kid?” she hissed. “You had no business taking my purse!”

The boy threw his arms up to protect his face and burst into tears.

Jenny gave him one more slap with the paper, looked down at him with burning eyes, and snapped, “You’d better be glad I’m only half mad! Now, get out of here!”

Myrna Linden was sitting in the rocking chair, looking at her husband’s photograph by the light of the nearby lamp when she heard footsteps on the porch stairs. She looked up through the window to see Jenny crossing the porch.

Myrna glanced back at the uniformed man in the picture. “Well, darling, here’s our beautiful daughter, home from work.”

Seconds later Jenny entered the parlor. She had folded the newspaper back to its usual form. Myrna noticed that Jenny’s face was pale and her eyes showed worry.

“Hello, Mama,” Jenny said softly as she approached the rocking chair. “How are you doing?”

Myrna managed a smile as her daughter drew near. “I’m doing all right, honey.”

Jenny leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Good. I love you.”

“I love you too. What’s wrong? Did something happen at the store to upset you?”

Jenny figured the episode she had with the boy who had snatched her purse wasn’t worth mentioning. “No, Mama, nothing happened at the store. But the
Journal
has some bad news.”

Myrna frowned, looked at the folded paper in Jenny’s hand, then met her gaze. “Something about the War?”

“Yes.”

Myrna reached for the newspaper.

“There was a fierce battle near Winchester, Virginia, two days ago. A large number of men on both sides were wounded, and many were killed. The battle involved some of Pennsylvania’s troops under the command of General Sherman.”

It was Myrna’s turn to have a pale face. “W-was your father’s unit involved?”

“No, Mama.”

Myrna sighed. “Oh, I’m so glad.”

Jenny’s features pinched. Her voice choked as she said, “But Nate’s Seventh Pennsylvania Artillery was in the battle.”

“I see. Well, I hope Nate is all right.”

“I hope so too. It upset me pretty bad when Wiley Owens came in with the papers and told me about the battle and that some of
Pennsylvania’s troops were in it. Wiley and the Hendersons tried to encourage me about it. They told me I should keep a positive attitude about Nate’s safety in the War.”

“Just like we have to do about your papa. But it’s … it’s so hard.”

Jenny clenched her teeth. “Why can’t the government do something about this? It’s so frustrating to read in the newspapers of these battles involving men we love, but to have to wait for what seems like an eternity to get any information.”

“That it is, honey. It is almost more than I can bear. I wish there was a way we could know, but there isn’t.”

Jenny let out a sigh and sat down on the sofa. “I’ll go start supper in a few minutes, Mama. I just need to sit down and catch my breath.”

“Of course, honey,” said Myrna, unfolding the newspaper to expose the front page. “I wish Nate had some family in Harrisburg to come home to when the War is over. But at least he has friends.”

“He has me, Mama. I’m more than a friend.”

Myrna flicked a glance at her but did not comment.

Jenny sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap, her thoughts on Nate and the yearning inside her to know if he was all right.

Myrna hastily read the front page article about the battle. Her features twisted and tears filmed her eyes. “Oh, Jenny, this is terrible. What a useless waste of human life, let alone all the blood that was shed by the wounded men.”

Jenny’s eyes flashed fire. “That’s for sure, Mama. And it’s the fault of those Confederate leaders. They started the War. The Rebels fired the first shot. If they hadn’t rebelled against the United States government in the first place there wouldn’t have been any Civil War, and those thousands of men already killed in the past three and a half years would still be alive. Papa would be home where he belongs, running his lumber company, and Nate would be home working his job at the Harrisburg Water Department. I’d like to have that Jefferson Davis in my gun sights!”

Myrna studied her daughter’s fiery eyes and stonelike face. Since Jenny was quite young, she had displayed a flinty temper and a bent for vengeance against anyone who, in her mind, had done someone wrong. “Now, Jenny, you shouldn’t talk that way. Just calm down.
The people of the South are human too. Their rebellion against the government came when they were told that they would have to put a stop to slavery.

“The people of the South felt strongly that the federal government had no right to tell the states what they could or couldn’t do. In their minds, the federal government was interfering with the rights of the individual states to govern their own commerce. I’m loyal to the Union, honey, but I can understand how the Southerners feel. You need to try to see the South’s side of the issues of states’ rights and slavery.”

“Mama, as far as I’m concerned, the plantation owners in the South wouldn’t need slaves if they would let go of some of their wealth and use it for wages to pay their help, rather than make them live as chattel. If they had been reasonable about this in the first place, there wouldn’t be any Civil War going on. All of those men who have been killed on the battlefields would still be alive.”

Myrna wiped tears. “Honey, I don’t want any men being killed—Northerners or Southerners. But since the two armies are indeed fighting each other, I’m glad, at least, that your papa’s unit wasn’t in this battle near Winchester.”

“I’m glad Papa’s unit wasn’t there, Mama, but—but—” Suddenly Jenny burst into sobs.

Myrna laid the newspaper aside, rose from the rocking chair, and moved unsteadily to the sofa. She sat down beside her daughter and wrapped her in her arms. Jenny laid her head on her mother’s breast. “Oh, Mama, I love Nate so much. I don’t know what I would do if he got killed. And … and he might have been killed in that battle on Tuesday!”

“Now, honey, what did Wiley Owens and the Hendersons tell you about keeping a positive attitude about Nate’s safety in the War?”

Jenny sniffed. “But, Mama, it’s so hard. So very hard.”

“Yes. I know. But if you can keep a positive attitude, it will be a lot easier on you. I know I’m not the one to speak with authority on this, since I’ve been so depressed with your papa gone, but Wiley and the Hendersons are right. Honey, I have a feeling that Lieutenant Nate Conrad is all right, even though he was in that
awful battle. Think of it this way—many more men made it through the battle than were killed.”