The Girls of Gettysburg (10 page)

“Not my pony!” Tillie wailed.

Mother cast her an angry look.
Hush!

“He's your son, ma'am?” The rebel's drawl was thick as fog and hard to understand. But thicker than his drawl was his smell. Tillie winced.

“He helps us out. He's of no use to you,” said Mother.

“You are right, ma'am.” The rebel let go of Sam Jackson with a heave-ho shake. Sam stumbled under the force. “We don't want the boy. We want the horse.”

“But that's just a pony!” Tillie, holding her chin high in defiance, stepped forward.

The soldier chuckled, tipping his hat. He smiled broader, revealing brown, crusted teeth. “We don't want to ride the thing. Horsemeat makes for a good stew!”

Tillie yelled all the louder. “You are a disgrace to humanity, picking on children and pets!” The soldiers walked off, leading the pony. Tillie bit her lip, trying not to cry. But the tears came anyway, and this only fed her anger.

“Beggin' your pardon, ma'am.” Both Tillie and Mother swerved to face yet another rebel. Tillie tightened her fist as she took a step forward, but Mother caught her by the arm. The boy standing before them was a pitiful sight. He seemed barely older than Tillie, and his clothes were in tatters and his feet bound in rags. He held his hat with nervous fingers running around the rim. The rifle strapped across his back was as battered as he.

“Would you have food to spare, ma'am?”

“Well,” Mother snapped. “Certainly you must ask for something to eat after you bully our children and take our pony!”

“We all do the best we can to get by. It's not fair, ma'am,” the soldier said. His drawl, or maybe his hunger, slurred his words. “And it doesn't make sense.”

Mother huffed.

To Tillie's shock, she realized Mother meant to feed that creature!

“Come along, boy.” Mother led the soldier inside. Tillie refused to be in the same room as the foul little worm. Instead she stood near the door, her eyes narrowed in hate. The rebel gobbled the food as if he hadn't eaten in months. He lacked any trace of civilized manners.

And when he left, she did not return the offered smile, nor accept his stuttering thank-you.

As soon as our boys get here
, she thought,
they will put you in your place
.

It was a long, long night.

Grace had stayed in the hidden room, hoping for Pappa to come soon. At long last Miss Mary came and let the three out of the little room. It was hard to move, Grace's legs were so cramped and sore. She blinked, her eyes stinging in the low light. The day before, General Early had demanded a ransom from the town elders: sugar, coffee, bacon, and a thousand shoes. When the mayor refused, saying the town had been stripped to its bones already, the general took his men and set up camp on the eastern slopes of South Mountain. Groups of rebels still made occasional raids through town.

“There is a gathering at the diamond,” Miss Mary said as she gave them more food and water, and another candle. “Everyone knows you, Grace, and knows your father. These unsettled times don't bring out the best in people. We have to be careful. The rebels are out there, in plain sight, waiting for reinforcements. The war is coming right here to Gettysburg, as sure as the summer heat.”

“What about Pappa?” Grace asked.

“Don't you worry about him,” Miss Mary reassured her. “Not too many men are as capable as he.”

But Grace couldn't go back into that cellar. She couldn't wait anymore. And she couldn't hold it in anymore, not her guilt or her shame or her worry. She had to do something. She had to do something
now
.

“Miss Mary.” Grace stood resolute. “If he can't come fetch me in town, then I have to go to him. I have to go home.”

“You can't, Grace. It's too dangerous. The rebels are on South Mountain.”

“It's too dangerous for him to come to town because this is where the danger is, not at the farm. Pappa's home, I know it.”

“We don't know where he is, Grace.”

“Mary.” Mrs. Scott stepped up. “Listen to her. It's dangerous for everyone, especially now. For her, and for us.”

“I know every way home there is,” Grace went on. “I know how to avoid being seen. It won't take but an hour. I won't be seen.”

“Grace”—Miss Mary shook her head—“these are strange times, and people will do strange things to get by. And if the rebels catch you, it won't matter who you are. They'll—”

“But they're not
here
.” Grace didn't mean to raise her voice as loud as she did, but she wasn't going to take no for an answer. “They moved out, and they won't be back
tonight
. They've gone back to the mountain for reinforcements, that's what you said. Tomorrow will be too late. But tonight it's safe. Tonight,
I have to go home
.”

“Mary, listen to her. She's making some sense,” Mrs. Scott urged.

“There's no sense to any of this.” Miss Mary shook her head, running her fingers through her curls. “There's no sense in you going. But if you stay, and they come back, you may be in worse trouble and I won't be able to protect you. We'll all hang. God help me, what do I do?”

“Pappa will know what happened to Friend Alice,” Grace said. “He'll know what to do about Sorry and Weezy.”

Miss Mary was still shaking her head when Weezy stepped up. There the two of them stood, Sorry and Weezy.

“We'll go with Grace, Miss Mary,” said Weezy. “We can't ask you to put yourself in more danger. Not sure what will happen out there. But here, I do know—them rebs are coming
here
. We may have little chance out there. But we have no chance here.”

“You have to look like my sisters, just in case,” said Grace, tying the bows. “These are the last dresses in Mr. Scott's store; Miss Mary picked them out, and Mrs. Scott didn't seem very happy about it. Put these clothes on, and no one in town is going to ask us otherwise.”

“I ain't never had store clothes before.” Weezy brushed the folds of the skirt and fingered the lace trim. “I never seen such fine lace, not even on the mistress. Not sure I like this bonnet, though. And how can anyone work in these gloves? These are just plain silly.” Weezy chuckled, hiding it behind her roughened hand.

Sorry stood before the mirror, her trembling fingers tracing the lace tie about her waist. She touched the lace that trimmed the collar, and then touched her cheek and traced her brow. But she said not a word.

All turned their heads as the hall clock struck one in the morning. Miss Mary came into the room. “The streets have quieted. It's now or never, I suppose. God forgive me for letting you go.”

“We'll be fine, Miss Mary.” Grace shook with the same worry, her feet tap-tap-tapping. She breathed deep and slow. Then, like plunging into a cold creek, she held her breath and led the two sisters through the kitchen door into the alley.

Grace stayed close to the alley's edge, keeping under the drooping overhang of oak and elm. On a clear, quiet day, the trip would take hardly an hour. But now, in the dead of night, they were fugitives, hiding in the moon shadows, and the going was slow. Grace worked her
way down the alley. She looked back to Weezy, and motioned for them to stay put. She inched her way along a fence, ducking whenever she heard a noise. Only when she was certain it was safe did she give them a soft, short whistle,
Come along
.

But then she heard voices! Grace stretched her neck around a tree to get a closer listen. She recognized them, and heaved a sigh. They weren't soldiers, they were the neighbors, Mr. Tilimon and his sons. Just like the Scotts and Miss Mary, the Tilimons had decided not to flee the town. And it seemed like they were making a jolly good time of it, too. Grace shook her head; sometimes there was no understanding old people. She crept along, ready to run if need be.

“Who's there?” Mr. Tilimon hooted.

“Who's there?” one of his sons slurred. They had been drinking. Grace knew this made the moment all the more dangerous. Drinking men tended to lose their senses.

“It's just me, Mr. Tilimon,” Grace shouted back, disguising her voice. “My sisters and I are helping Miss Mary. One of the babies is sick. We're on our way back now.”

“It's mightily late for you to be out and about, don't you think? Soldiers might be out there.”

“Glad to see you're safe, too! Babies don't work on anyone's schedule except their own, Mr. Tilimon. With all the commotion these past few days, Miss Mary just thought it best to git while we can.”

“Rebels surely did cause a stir. Who did you say you were?”

“It's just me, Mr. Tilimon. I'll tell Miss Mary I saw you. She said she had a meat pie for you, knowing you were feeling poorly of late. She'll be glad to hear you are doing better. Give my best to Mrs. Tilimon!”

Whistling for Weezy and Sorry to follow, she bolted down the alley. She stopped again just before the alley opened up onto Washington Street. A block down the way was the diamond. She motioned for the two to stay put as she moved ahead, looking up and down the road. Behind her, she heard Mrs. Tilimon shouting now at Mr. Tilimon. Mr. Tilimon was shouting back, so loud that a dog barked in complaint. Another man was hooting at all the commotion.

Grace motioned to them,
Hurry on!
At a full run, they crossed the
road. Grace hoped no one would pay attention to three more running in the streets, after all the dozens who had fled in the night. She angled off the main road, entering another alley.

Once more she heard voices, and instantly slowed, clinging to the shadows. She motioned Weezy and Sorry to stop, but the two came up, easing next to her.

“Who's there?” someone called out, her voice clear as church bells.

Grace shivered. This one wasn't swooning from too much drink.

“I say, who is there? Come out now!”