Last in a Long Line of Rebels (12 page)

From the diary of Louise Duncan Mayhew
April 1862

Father received news today of a horrifying nature. A two day battle at Shiloh has resulted in thousands dead. Cousin Olivia and I have spent the day weeping as we are sure there are old friends on both sides among them.

“I
have a plan.”

Franklin and Benzer were throwing pebbles at an empty coffee can behind the church. We had a fifteen-minute break between Sunday school and the sermon, so we'd headed to the shady area on the back side of the property. An old outhouse still stood at the edge of the dark woods, a creepy contrast to the pretty church. Most of the kids preferred to hang out near the parking lot, so we had the back to ourselves.

“Forget it,” Patty said. She was perched on a cinder block, her scrawny knees touching, with a small pink Bible holding her skirt down. I tried not to look at her orange knees and ankles.

“You haven't even heard it!” exclaimed Franklin. He threw a handful of pebbles toward the can, missing with all but one.

“Whatever. I'm sure it involves me digging around the Mayhew yard, and I've had all of that I can stand.”

Benzer kicked the coffee can, spilling pebbles. “What is it, Lou? They'll be calling us into church soon.”

I scooted next to Patty, each of us with a small square of block to sit on. Mama had insisted on buying me two new dresses so I didn't have to worry about embarrassing myself. I tucked the hem between my knees.

“Okay, we have to find the gold, but we don't know where to look.”

“Duh,” Patty said. “Finding it would be a whole lot easier if we did.”

I ignored her. “It came to me at the Dairy Barn. We've got to get the library book from George Neely. Think about it; he's everywhere we turn—at the Wilson auction and the museum—and he has the book we need. I went to ask Mrs. Hall when it was due back, and she said it was on loan ‘indefinitely.' It must be important.”

“Do you think he's after the gold too?” Benzer asked.

“He knows about it, so why wouldn't he look for it?”

“What do you suggest?” asked Franklin. “Following him around or something similar?”

“No, he'd notice us for sure, but we do need to get that book.”

I picked up a stick and started drawing in the dust. “Bertie said he was staying at the Cornucopia Bed-and-Breakfast, right?”

Benzer and Franklin knelt down beside me. “Yeah, so?”

I drew an X on a square. “That's the B and B. On the right is the parking lot, and on the left . . .” I drew a big circle.

“That's the antique store,” Benzer said.

“Right, and who works there part-time?”

Patty snapped her gum. “My mama. What does that have to do with anything?”

I smiled. “There's a side door leading out to the courtyard that the two businesses share. All we have to do is steal Aunt Sophie's keys and sneak into George Neely's room to get the book!”

There was a three-second pause, then they all burst into laughter.

“What?” I asked, miffed. “It could totally work. Daddy and I were up on the second floor of the inn last spring, picking up an old radiator. That's where the rooms are. All we have to do is climb up to the deck from the courtyard.”

Franklin shook his head. “You want to break into George Neely's room and steal his book?”

“It's not his book, remember? It's the library's. And stealing is wrong. I just want to borrow it to make copies. Then we'll drop it into the library drop box.”

“And how do you plan on getting into his room?” Franklin asked.

“That's where you come in. You already sound like you're forty years old; you'll use the store's phone to call the front desk and ask for George Neely. We'll be on the deck to see which room he comes out of. Nobody's going to lock the door just to run down to the front desk.”

“Won't they just transfer the call to his room?” Patty asked.

I shook my head. “This is the Cornucopia, not a fancy hotel. They don't have phones in the rooms.”

“So then we go in, grab the book, and shimmy back down to the courtyard?” Benzer asked.

“Pretty slick, huh?” I said.

They looked at each other, nobody speaking.

“C'mon, y'all. If we don't find that gold soon, someone will. Either George Neely or Pete Winningham—and I'll lose my house.”

“But, Lou,” Benzer said, “we don't even know that the book is important. It might not have any information that matters.”

I frowned. “Then why is he keeping it? I've looked at every book the library has, and I've been through Bertie's stash twice. None of them mention a battle near my house or the gold. The book Neely's got might be a long shot, but it's our best chance.”

Patty wrapped a curl around her finger. “What happened to giving up? I thought you were done with all of this.”

“I know, but seeing Isaac the other night, and what he's going through”—I hesitated—“well, if he can keep fighting, so can I.”

Patty nodded. “Okay, I'm in.”

Benzer shrugged. “It's worth a shot.”

I looked at Franklin. “C'mon, Franklin. We can't do it without you. You're the only one that can keep him talking on the phone while we search.”

“I don't know, Lou. What if we're caught? What if I get kicked out of Boy Scouts? It could jeopardize the whole list!”

“For crying out loud, Franklin,” Patty said. “I'm stealing my mama's keys, and Lou and Benzer are trespassing. You're just calling him. No one ever lost the governor's race from making a prank phone call!”

One of the teenagers came around the corner. “Church is starting. You guys better come in.”

“Franklin?”

“All right. When?”

“This weekend, while everyone is playing bridge.”

“Fine. But just so you know, my whole future depends on this!”

I sighed. “Mine too, Franklin. Mine too.”

Once church was over, we spilled down the steps into the sunshine. Patty bounded over to her dad's truck. It was his weekend, and they were going to see a movie.

“Hey, Benzer. Are you riding with us?” Tracy Kimmel asked. She was leaning against the church railing, holding a Bible with a cover that said
Bible Babe
.

“Uh, no, not today. We have to give Lou a ride home.”

Have to? Gee, sorry to be such a pain,
I thought. I glared at them both, but neither one was looking at me.

“But thanks for asking, Tracy.”

“No problem. Let's go, Franklin. I've got things to do.” She turned on her gold high heel and stalked across the parking lot to her Jeep. Franklin waved as they pulled out onto the highway, barely missing Benzer's parents' car.

“Boy, is she . . .” Benzer's voice trailed off.

“A butt?” I offered, helpfully.

He laughed. “I was going to say hot.”

“Explains why I feel like throwing up when she's around. Heat stroke!”

Bertie and my parents were standing in the front yard looking up at the oak tree when Benzer's parents dropped me off.

“Hey,” I said. “What are y'all doing?”

Daddy put one hand on my shoulder and used the other to point upward. “Do you see that branch right about the porch line? Look at how the leaves are turning brown.”

I nodded. “So?”

“So remember what I said about staying off of it until I can have someone check it out.”

Mama put a hand on her back. “Oooh, I'm feeling this pregnancy today. Lou, come help me put lunch on the table.”

“Sure thing.”

“Why don't you just leave it, Lily? Lou and I will make everyone plates, and we can sit outside for a change,” Bertie said.

“It's too hot for that. But I will lie down for a minute.” Mama went into the parlor, and I followed Bertie into the kitchen to get the food together.

“Let's eat in the dining room; it's cooler.”

I grabbed some napkins and silverware and made four places. Then I filled four glasses with ice and set a pitcher of tea in the middle of the table. “Ready!”

Bertie, still bursting to tell all the gossip she'd heard at the fair, talked nonstop for thirty minutes. When she finally slowed down to catch her breath, Daddy turned to me.

“A friend of mine is coming by tomorrow. Everyone else is busy, so I'll need you to stay home and show him around, okay?”

I narrowed my eyes. “What's he looking for?”

Daddy shot a quick glance at Mama. “He's an appraiser. It's no big deal, just a property tax issue he's helping me with.”

“Really?” I said. “I'll be here. I wasn't planning on going anywhere.”

I sipped my tea and listened as my parents talked. Other than looking tired, they seemed fine. I wondered how many lies they'd tell, how long they'd leave me in the dark before someone thought to tell me about it. I could feel the anger bubbling inside.

“Lou?”

Bertie was staring at me. “Yes?”

“I've been talking to you for five minutes. Have you heard a word I've said?”

I swallowed a bite of squash casserole. “Sorry, I was thinking about something else.”

“Bertie asked if church was good today,” Daddy said.

“Oh, yeah, not bad. Everybody was talking about Isaac and the fair, of course.”

Bertie laughed. “He really gave Coach Peeler a soaking.”

“Well, I think it was a mistake, and not like Isaac at all,” Mama said.

“Lily,” Daddy said, “Isaac's a good kid. He's just frustrated.”

“I understand, but it didn't change anything. Coach Peeler is still dumb as a box of rocks. Only now people are starting to get ugly with Isaac—and with Drew Canton, and it wasn't his fault either.” She paused to drain her glass. “Let's just hope the whole thing blows over.”

“I hope it doesn't,” Bertie said. “Coach Peeler needs to be dealt with.”

“I'd be frustrated if I were Isaac too. How is anything going to change if he can't actually
do
anything?” I asked.

“You have a point,” Mama said. “But honestly, things have come a long way. Tennessee colleges were segregated until the late fifties. I know you don't believe it, but there are worse things than not going to UT.”

I dropped my fork on the plate with a clang. “And that's supposed to be comforting? This is all so wrong I can't even stand it.”

Mama's shoulders drooped. “I'm sorry, Lou. You're right. Things are still bad for Isaac and a lot of folks.”

I nodded, still thinking about the fair and how angry Isaac had been. I wished there was something we could do to change things.

“Daddy, do you believe in God?”

Mama laughed. “Boy. That's a change in subject.”

Daddy leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “I'd say I believe the basics—God, do unto others. . . . What about you?”

“I think so. I mean, I want to believe in God, but I don't know how he could let so much bad stuff happen in the world.”