I Shall Be Near to You (17 page)

Jeremiah props himself up on his elbow and looks down on me. ‘Was it bad, at that hospital?’

‘That hospital makes Doc Cuck look gentle,’ is all I can bring myself to say, when any one of those boys in that hospital could be Jeremiah, or me, how maybe Joseph is already gone, never seeing his Mama again. I think about if I will ever see my folks back home again in this world, if my Mama would come if I sent her a letter like the one Joseph sent. I hope that what Thomas Stakely says is true, that all the Union needs is one good win and this war will be over.

CHAPTER
15

FORT CORCORAN, VIRGINIA: LATE APRIL 1862

This ain’t what I signed on for, sitting here watching them Rebs, letting them get ready and we just wait! When’s McClellan going to move on Yorktown? He ain’t hardly even bombarded those Seceshes! We should be chasing those fools back to South Carolina! Or at least to Richmond!’ Sully says, getting all worked up for his morning sermonizing about McClellan this or Rebs that, his spindly arms flapping about while we finish our breakfast and drink what passes for coffee in this Army. If he’s the one coming off picket, he’s even worse.

‘Seems to me the farther away you get from those Rebs, the more you talk about killing them,’ I say. ‘You talk this big sitting out on the line in the dark? How many shots you fire last night?’

The rest of the boys, Jeremiah, Jimmy, and Will, laugh, and that shuts Sully up for a quick moment. Then he sends me a look fit to kill a hog and says before making off for his tent, ‘You got the heart of a woman and no stomach for war, so your words don’t mean one thing.’

‘He ain’t lying,’ I say. ‘I like getting paid and not getting killed and still doing right by the Union.’

We sit like that for a spell, watching Jimmy rake his fingers through his ginger hair sticking up like a mad porcupine. When he’s got it looking almost presentable, he asks what we’ve all been starting to wonder.

‘Where do you think Henry got to?’

‘You know Henry,’ Jeremiah says. ‘He’s got his own time for things.’

We go back to sitting quiet and then we hear the rattling thunder of the long roll. We jump up, taking our arms and equipment.

The Regiment gathers outside Captain’s headquarters tent, stacking our weapons before shifting our lines to face Captain.

Henry and bumbling Levi Blalock are there, looking like something worse than sheepish. It’s been days since I last saw her about, but Jennie is off to the side, her small mouth drawn tight, her bandage basket on her thin arm like she’s coming from the hospital. She is working not to look at Captain, and anybody can see she ain’t happy either, even before she swipes the back of her hand across her eyes.

‘Gentlemen,’ Captain says. ‘I have set these soldiers before you as an example, not that you might follow them, but that you might turn away from their worthless and low behavior. These two among you have done a disservice to the Army of the Potomac and this Regiment, and shall be disciplined accordingly.’

Captain stalks to stand in front of Henry. ‘Henry O’Malley, do you deny falling asleep on picket duty last night and, through your irresponsible actions, putting not only your Regiment but this Army and this nation at peril?’

Henry, his face blazing even brighter, doesn’t say one word, just shakes his head.

‘I could have you SHOT for such conduct!’ Captain yells, but Henry don’t lift his head. Behind me Jimmy sucks in a long breath. Captain keeps yelling, nose to nose with Henry. ‘It is a MERCY that I am assigning to you one week of picket duty strapped to a stick.

‘And you, Levi Blalock, caught DESERTING last night by other members
of the picket line doing their DUTY. Do you deny it?’ Levi’s face is pale and he looks everywhere but at Captain. ‘DO YOU DENY IT?’ Captain yells again, and Levi hunches his shoulders, like he’s expecting a blow.

‘Then you shall serve one week of latrine duty AND to ensure you never forget how you have jeopardized the safety of your countrymen, endangered your fellow soldiers, and disgraced yourself, you shall be branded a deserter!’

The whole Regiment holds its breath, me along with it. That’s why Jennie ain’t happy with her husband and why she’s got that basket on her arm, why the fire is burning hot by the tent, a poker sticking from the flames. Captain gestures to Hiram, who swaggers to the fire. He pulls that poker from the coals with a look on his face like it gives him a special pleasure to see the red-orange D glow against the charred wood. Then he and young Frank Morgan push Levi down on the ground. Hiram must be even stronger than he looks because he forces Levi’s head to the right, pinning his cheek against the dirt. All the while Levi is going wild, kicking and bucking as Captain moves that poker toward him, and I knew he ain’t one to ever cross.

I close my eyes, but that don’t make it stop.

CHAPTER
16

OLD CAPITOL PRISON, WASHINGTON, D.C.: MAY 1862

Our first real orders come a week later, the day Henry finishes his punishment. We’re to guard Secesh prisoners kept at the Old Capitol Prison, and even though I draw relief with Will and Edward instead of Jeremiah or one of the boys from home, I’m glad to be somewhere the Rebels ain’t fighting.

The three of us, me, Will, and Edward, walk on a wide pavement, toward the four-story brick building. Except for the arched windows above the door, all the windows have got curtains pulled, almost like it’s a real home but for the iron bars.

Just as we step up to the main guardhouse, Edward elbows me. ‘You know they have a lady spy in this prison?’

‘Have they now?’

‘That’s right,’ he says, and digs his thumb into Will’s ribs. ‘I’m of a mind to get a good look at her, maybe give her a good squeeze for me and my brother.’

Edward winks at the thick-shouldered warden we’re reporting to, but it don’t work the way he hopes because Thick-shoulders says, ‘You patrol the street—I need you to keep any passersby away from the prison yard. And you other two, you’ll take Mrs. Greenhow down for some air.’

‘You’ve got to be daft!’ Edward shouts. ‘You think those two can even keep a sheep in line?’

Edward is still being ornery with Thick-shoulders when me and Will head up the steps into the prison. It is nicer than any house I’ve ever set foot in. By the wall where the floors ain’t dirty and scraped, the richness of the dark wood shows. The halls are wide and plastered, and the main staircase has a carved pineapple post and a curved railing. Those stairs creak under our weight, like I am some fine person, and there is something good in that thought.

When we open the door to her room, Mrs. Greenhow jerks her hand back from the curtain at the window and then settles back into her chair at the old table there. She is a handsome woman, her nut-brown hair parted straight down the middle and swept to the back, where it is coiled and curled.

She don’t even look at us, just starts scribbling something down like she can’t be bothered to hurry. We stand there looking around her room, which is nothing but cracked plaster walls and boards nailed across her window, like the bars outside ain’t enough. Her little girl, not more than eight or nine, sits on a pallet, slowly turning the pages of a book, watching us with a down-turned mouth.

Will clears his throat and says, ‘It’s time to go out to the yard, Mrs. Greenhow,’ but still she don’t stop what she is doing. Will looks at me, but I don’t know how else we should act either, so we just wait until she folds that paper and puts it inside a book on the table. Then she turns to her daughter, saying, ‘Rose, shall we?’ as she stands and holds out her hands, her black netting gloves stretching up to her elbows, her black widow’s dress rustling like dried cornstalks.

‘You think you ought to put out that candle?’ I ask. ‘Wouldn’t want to burn the place down, would you?’

Mrs. Greenhow gives me an eyebrow and a sharp look as she draws back the curtain, reaches through the wood slats, and blows out the candle that’s guttering there in the middle of the day. She breezes past us like royalty, keeping her face looking apart from us as we head down the hall to the stairs, like we ain’t good enough to speak to, like we are the traitors instead of her, and I can’t help but wonder what she is about, acting the spy for our benefit.

Being that she’s the only woman in the prison, Mrs. Greenhow gets time all to herself in the prisoners’ yard. Me and Will stand at the gate, watching her promenade around, her skirts sashaying after her, like it is something more grand than a tall wire fence and hard-packed dirt. Some of the boys out in the courtyard watch Mrs. Greenhow as she takes her few turns, Little Rose on her arm. When a loud catcall comes, it’s Hiram who’s got his fingers to his lips, the boys around him hooting and slapping his shoulders, Frank Morgan laughing so much he’s practically doubled over at the waist. Mrs. Greenhow, though, she don’t pay it any mind, and keeps her eyes on the street just beyond the fence. She finishes her turn before sinking onto a bench, flouncing out her skirts.

Hiram can’t leave her be, though. He saunters over to the fence right behind Mrs. Greenhow.

‘Rebel Rose,’ he calls in a singsong voice. ‘I’ve got all kinds of secrets I’ll spill, if you come upstairs with me.’

Mrs. Greenhow don’t show any sign she hears him, maybe hoping he’ll move on to some other amusement if she don’t notice him one jot. That’s what I’m hoping too, but Frank and those other boys are making eyes and snorting at his back.

‘I heard you Southern ladies ain’t so proper as y’all like to pretend,’ Hiram drawls, ‘and looks to be true, you landing here in prison and such.’

Everything about Mrs. Greenhow gets somehow thorny looking, but she still don’t move.

Hiram says, ‘I know you know what a man likes, but maybe you’d like to try on something Northern for a change?’

Mrs. Greenhow yelps, jumping to her feet. Somehow Hiram has worked his hand through the wire far enough to pinch the nape of her neck.

‘A little nibble, that’s all I’m after!’ he crows, while the boys behind him roar with laughter.

‘You leave off!’ I shout at Hiram, and I don’t care if Mrs. Greenhow is a spy or not.

‘Come on now, I’m just having fun. You ain’t a Rebel lover, are you?’

‘You ain’t to molest the prisoner!’ I walk right up to the fence, and Mrs. Greenhow scurries to where her daughter sits wide-eyed.

‘Oh, I see. You
are
a Rebel lover! I bet she’s giving you some sweetness on the side, is that it?’ Hiram leers at me, just like Eli.

‘What I’ve got is decency, that’s all. Didn’t your Mama teach you how to act right?’

‘My Mama ain’t here, in case you didn’t notice.’

I kick the fence where Hiram is standing. He jumps back. ‘That’s right!’ I yell. ‘You move along!’

‘You’re mighty brave on that side of the goddamn fence! Why don’t you come on over here and we’ll see if you’ve got any real fight in you.’ He spits at the ground, the boys behind him silent as he glares at me. I stay put.

‘Shit, that’s what I thought,’ he says, and turns to throw an arm around Frank, slapping his shoulder and laughing loud until he’s got all the others joining in.

When they walk away, I sink down onto the bench myself, spreading my shaking hands across my thighs.

Mrs. Greenhow lets go of her girl, pushing her back toward the hopscotch she’s drawn with a stick in the dirt. She plays there by herself, her short dress bouncing as she jumps. Will moves to where I am, bumping into my shoulder.

‘What got into you?’ he asks, still watching Mrs. Greenhow.

‘Why’s he think he can act like that?’ I ask. ‘What right has he got?’

‘I suppose he thought nobody would mind,’ Will says.

Mrs. Greenhow looks calmly out at the street, but she don’t fool me.

After a bit, she turns, clasps her gloved hands together like praying, and gives me a nod. Then she raises her eyebrows at me and maybe I don’t fool her none either.

‘H
EY,
R
OSS
!’ S
ULLY
yells when he comes across the prison yard for supper. ‘You heard how they’ve got a woman prisoner here?’ he says, looking right at me, and I wish Jeremiah weren’t off on his guard duty.

I give him a narrow look. ‘Sure did. We just guarded her.’

‘What was she like?’ Sully asks.

‘Can’t really say. She’s got mourning clothes on, but she don’t seem sad. She’s got a clever look about her too. Acts like you’d think a Southern lady would.’

‘I was guarding with Thomas Stakely and he heard she’s a real saucy thing, got a mouth on her. Kind of like you,’ Sully says. ‘He said how she sings “Dixie” real loud so the guards and anyone on the street can hear.’

‘I didn’t hear one peep out of her,’ I say.

Sully shakes his head, ‘You ever heard of taking your own child along to prison?’

‘Maybe she ain’t got another place to keep that child,’ Will says. ‘Being a widow.’

The bite of sowbelly in my mouth, the whole meal, goes sour. I wonder about Rebel Rose and why she ain’t got any folks who’d take her daughter, if there is anything more alone than a widow. I wonder if Hiram is the only one to heckle her, if any of her guards have done worse. Then I think on the notes she was writing, the way she looked out on the street.