Todd's words came out in a hoarse growl. "You mean run
away?'
'Yes," Mike said. "Rim away."
During the night Mike wasn't quite so sure. He thrashed back and forth in bed, both tormented and thrilled by the decision he'd made.
The captain wouldn't approve my going.
Who says he wouldn't? He's a career officer. He'll be proud that I want to serve the Union.
He wants me to take care of Louisa.
She's taking care of me. She doesn't need me to take care of her. And as Todd said, the women take care of each other.
If the captain were here, what would he tell me? He's my father now. Captain Taylor was one of the finest, fairest men Mike ever had met, and he wished with all his heart that he truly could hear what the captain had to say.
Suddenly, with a great surge of loneliness, Mike pictured his mother and father and his brothers and sisters in the small room they had once shared in New York City before Da had died, before Mike had been arrested as a copper
stealer. Mike had only been trying to help feed his family— he'd never expected his theft to divide the Kellys.
If only the earning of money just for food and a place to live hadn't been so hard, Mike thought. If only Da hadn't died.
"Da," Mike whispered, as he pictured his father's kind face. "Oh, Da, what should I do? What would you have me do?"
He held his breath, hoping for an answer, but all he heard was the rat-a-tat of an imaginary drum.
/ know the drum calls, Mike told himself, and that's what counts, because Jeb says the army badly needs drummers.
As he listened to the bugle's call and saw the flag held high, he burned with eagerness. He had to join the army! He had to!
Early the next morning, Mike sought out Todd, whose pale face and darkly circled eyes showed that he hadn't slept well either.
While the boys hunkered down in the shade between two of the buildings in the officers' quarters, Todd pulled his pocket watch out of his jacket, fingered it, and shoved it back. Out and back, out and back. Finally, he mumbled, "I've been thinking ..."
Mike's throat tightened as he waited for Todd to go on.
"Ma would be terrible angry if I joined up," Todd said. "There isn't anything about army life Ma likes. She wants me to have a different sort of life. She reminded me again this morning that she's got plans for me to go to college someday, like some of her cousins who live in Boston, so I can become a banker or a businessman. She's already teaching me and my sisters Latin verbs and making us read poetry every evening before we go to bed, and—"
A hard limip began to grow in Mike's chest. "You're backing out," he said. "I didn't take you for a quitter."
"I'm not a quitter," Todd insisted. "I was just telling you how Ma would feel if I ran off to join the army."
Through his disappointment Mike shrugged and mumbled, "Then I'll go by myself."
"You're not old enough."
"Neither are you. But age doesn't matter. The Union Army needs musicians to send orders to the troops in battle. We know the drum calls, and you know the bugle. We could help the Union win the war. You know we could."
"Yeah, I guess," Todd said. He glanced at Mike. "How's your mother going to take it?"
"I don't see why Louisa would get mad," Mike answered. "I heard her tell the captain how proud she was of him, before he rode off with his company. But, well, my own ma's different. She won't hke my joining the army—I can tell you that right now—and she'll start worrying about me the minute she gets the letter I'm going to write her."
Todd turned to stare at Mike and grinned. "You've got two women to worry about whether or not you're getting enough food to eat, or your socks are wet, or there's a Reb on your tail! That's twice as bad as one."
Mike made a face and pretended to groan. "It adds up to more than two," he bragged. "My sisters Frances and Megan will have something to say to me when they find out what I've done, and for all I know, my little sister Peg is old enough to speak her mind on the subject."
Todd chuckled, but Mike grew serious. "Danny now— he's but a year younger than me—Danny would understand. And Petey—he's too little to even think about war."
Once again, Mike was swallowed by a rush of homesickness for his family. He squeezed his eyes shut, seeing their smiling faces, and fought against the pain.
"They're all going to be proud of you," Todd said.
Mike opened his eyes and nodded. He could visualize himself standing tall in the uniform of a Union private, the round-crowned dark blue forage cap cocked so that its
black glazed-leather peak sloped down sharply over his eyes. Maybe there'd be a medal on his chest—maybe two or three.
"They're bound to be," he said with a grin. "I'll be the only soldier in the Kelly family."
After a few moments, Todd said, "I guess you're right, Mike. We're bound in duty to help out."
Mike sucked in his breath. "Does that mean you're in?"
"I'm in," Todd said. "When do we go?"
Mike shrugged. "I'm ready to leave now."
Todd shook his head. "No. It would be too easy to send somebody looking for us in the daylight hours. We'll have to leave after dark, probably after they think we're in bed and asleep."
"And have the sentries challenge us?" Mike shook his head. "I've got a better idea. We can leave with the sutlers in late afternoon. Their wagons will be near to empty, and one of them might give us a ride."
Todd pursed his lips as he thought. "A ride would save on shoe leather. It's a good thirty miles or more to Kansas City."
"That's right," Mike said. "And we'll have the drum and your bugle to carry, along with the rest of the things we'll have to take."
Todd looked surprised. "What else do we have to take?"
"Well, a change of clothing, I guess," Mike said, "and a blanket."
"The army issues blankets. Haven't you seen what they've handed out to the new recruits?"
"I guess I haven't paid much attention."
"Well, I have," Todd said. "We'll get a uniform, drawers and socks, shoes, a haversack to carry our rations, a wool-covered tin canteen, and a rubber blanket."
"A rubber blanket? What's that for?" Mike asked.
"Keeps everything dry. Sometimes the ground is wet,
and you can spread out the rubber blanket before you make up your bed."
"I've got only about two dollars in coin to call my own," Mike said. "How much have you got?"
Todd looked surprised. "Not much more than that. I guess we'd better take food with us, enough to last until we reach the Second Kansas Infantry and join up."
As he and Todd looked at each other, Mike's heart gave a jump. They were going to enlist. They were really going to do it!
The day passed slowly. That afternoon, companionably chattering to Mike about some of the latest news to reach the fort, Louisa set bread to rise, asking Mike's help in fetching wood for the stove. Mike volunteered to scrub the kitchen floor and sweep the front porch, hoping that if he stayed busy, Louisa wouldn't be able to read his thoughts.
Finally, Louisa said, "It's a very warm day for the end of June, and I'd benefit from a nap." She unbuttoned the high collar of her dress and fanned her neck. "As for you, Mike, I think you're more in need of exercise than study at this moment. We'll delay supper until after sundown, when it's cooler, and go over your lessons this evening. Just be back in time to eat."
Feeling too guilty to meet Louisa's eyes, Mike ducked his head, gave her a quick hug, and ran outside. He'd already set the plan in motion. He'd packed a bundle of clothing, wrapped tightly around letter-writing supplies; he'd lowered the bundle from his window, then tucked it out of sight under the stairway leading to the front porch. As soon as he was sure that Louisa had stretched out on her bed, Mike snatched up his bundle and raced to the bam.
Todd slipped through the door just as Mike was tucking his bundle next to the drum. Todd pointed toward the bale of hay. "I shoved my pack do
wn behind it. I've got food for us, too. Did you get any?"
"I couldn't. Louisa would have been suspicious."
Todd shrugged. "Ma claims I eat all the time. If I wasn't into the food, she would have thought something was up."
"I wonder what they'll give us to eat in the army."
"Who cares? We're not joining for home cooking."
Mike laughed, a feverish excitement filling his chest. If all went well, he'd be an officially enlisted musician for the Union Army as soon as tomorrow.
"I wrote Louisa a letter and tucked it under my pillow, where she'll find it tonight," he told Todd.
"I wrote my ma a letter, too," Todd said, "only I gave it to my sister Emily to give to her."
Mike was alarmed. "Won't Emily tell?"
"Nope, because I paid her a dollar. She snuffled and her eyes got red, but then she admitted she was glad I was going. She's still miffed about that frog I put in her bed, among other things." Todd paused, then asked, "What did you say to Louisa?"
"I tried to tell her how grateful I was to her and to the captain for taking me in and how much they mean to me, and then I told her why it's important for me to follow the captain's example and fight for what I believe in. I saw a slave once, captured and in chains, and I'll never forget the awful look in his eyes, like he was already dead. I told Louisa ..." Mike shook his head and said brusquely, "Well, never mind. I just hope she'll understand."
Todd was matter-of-fact. "Doesn't really matter if she does or not, because you'll be gone."
Mike said nothing, but he knew Todd was wrong. The captain and Louisa were his foster parents, and he loved them almost as much as he loved his own parents.
The tack room was stifiing, and the hay made both Mike and Todd sneeze, but they stayed in their hideout. Only when the sun shot long shadows across the parade ground and the sutlers began to cover their unsold merchandise, preparing to leave the fort, did the boys venture out.
Trembling, Mike slung the drum around his neck and picked up the drumsticks with his clothing. "Ready?" he asked Todd.
White-faced, Todd gulped twice before he could answer. "Ready."
The sutlers weren't the only ones to leave the fort. Other tradespeople, salesmen, and visitors found late afternoon a convenient time to depart, and the main gate was crowded with wagons, carriages, and travelers on horseback and on foot. Cautiously, heads down so they wouldn't be recognized, Mike and Todd slid into the crowd.
Mike let out his breath in a whoosh as he realized they were finally out of sight of the guards. Ahead, he spotted a ruddy, smiling sutler who looked familiar.
Running to the side of the wagon, Mike hailed him. "Are you bound for Kansas City?"
"That I am." The sutler tugged on the reins, pulling his horse to a stop at the side of the road. He narrowed his eyes as he studied the boys. "Aren't you needed back at the fort?"
"No," Todd answered quickly, dodging a buggy that passed at a clip. "We're needed by Colonel Mitchell with the Second Kansas Infantry."
The sutler allowed his glance to rest on the drum and bugle. "Things have come to a sad pass when they're signing on mere boys as musicians." But he shrugged as he acknowledged, "Musicians seem to be hard to come by. I've heard some of the companies out of Fort Scott have had to leave without a drummer or bugler."
He gave a jerk of the head toward his nearly empty wagon. "Hop aboard, if you've a mind to, and make yourselves comfortable. It'll be a good ten hours, with time out for resting and watering the horse, afore we reach Kansas City."
Mike and Todd did as they were told, glad for the ride. As the wagon moved out into the rapidly thinning traffic, they
settled themselves against the hard wooden sideboards, using their bundles as pillows for their backs.
From his perch high on the front seat of the wagon, the sutler opened a parcel containing a sausage reeking of garlic and a loaf of bread and began to chew noisily. Thankful that he and Todd wouldn't have to offer to share their own supply of food, Mike accepted a chunk of bread and cheese and an apple from his friend and gobbled his supper greedily.
Todd pulled out his pocket watch and peered at it in the dimming light. He breathed on the glass surface, polished it with his sleeve, then tucked it back into his pocket. "Pa gave me this watch," he said, smiling at the recollection.
A strange, gargling noise suddenly came from the front seat. Mike twisted to see if something was the matter and discovered that the sutler had hunched over, his shoulders rounded as a ball.
"He's asleep. He's snoring," Todd whispered as another phlegmy rattle rolled back at them.
"What about the horse? How can he guide him?" Mike whispered.
Todd held his mouth close to Mike's ear. "The horse probably knows the road better than the sutler does. The only thing we'd have to worry about is if the horse falls asleep."
Mike buried his face in his arms, trying to smother his bursts of laughter. Finally, when the hysteria of the moment had passed and the sutler snored on undisturbed, Mike stretched out in the wagon bed. Using his bundle of clothes as a pillow, he stared up at the stars, which were shining faintly in the quickly darkening sky.
Todd settled down beside him, but Mike didn't speak. There was too much he wanted to think about. He was on his own, embarked on a great adventure. He had chosen to serve the Union and fight the stubborn-minded southerners who practiced slavery.
Hadn't Da always told him, Never he afraid to stand up for what you believe is right? That's what he was doing. With the Union Army so badly in need of musicians, surely they'd accept them. Wouldn't they? Mike groaned involuntarily.
Embarrassed, he quickly turned toward Todd. To Mike's relief, Todd was lying on his side, breathing heavily, sound asleep.
Relax, Mike told himself. What's done is done. You're on your way, my lad, to join up with the Second Kansas Infantry, and by this time tomorrow night, you'll be a full-fledged, respected member of the Union Army!
Mike and Todd didn't become full-fledged, respected members of the Union Army quite so easily. They parted company with the sutler at close to four in the morning on a dark street in Kansas City. He advised them that Major Samuel Sturgis's battalion still ought to be camped on the outskirts of town.
As the sutler disappeared from view, Mike and Todd stared down the darkened, deserted street and then at each other.
"How are we supposed to reach the outskirts?" Todd asked.
Mike had to smile at Todd's question, which he knew Todd never would have asked if he hadn't been as scared as Mike felt at the moment. "We go in any direction," Mike told him, "except east. East would take us across the river and into Missouri."
"We came from the north," Todd said, beginning to col-
lect himself. "Do you think the sutler drove near to the encampment while we were sleeping?"
Mike blushed at having laughed at the sutler for falling asleep. "It's our best guess," he answered. He turned toward what he hoped was the west. "Let's head west for a ways, then turn north."
They began to walk down the street, their path lit only by the stars. The street narrowed to a lane, and an elderly woman, bent under her shawl as she swept her porch in the first rays of early light, called out, "Where are you boys off to?"
"To find the Second Kansas Infantry," Todd shouted.
The woman shook her fist at them. "Go home and behave yourselves, you abolitionists!"
"Ma'am, this is Kansas—a free state," Mike answered in amazement.
"Free? I'll tell you what freedom is! Until Abraham Lincoln was elected president, this was a free country where every citizen had a right to follow his own beliefs!" she screeched. "Go home! Get along with you!"
Mike and Todd hurried down the lane, turning north when they came to a wagon road. They followed the road for what seemed to be a long while, until it suddenly rose and curved over a hill. Below them, between the hill and the Missouri River, they saw the encampment for which they'd been searching.
Across th
e plains spread rows and rows of canvas tents, from small pup tents to the large tents used for administration. Already, mounted traffic filled the makeshift roads, some of the riders dressed in the high-crowned, plumed hats, gold-trimmed jackets, and bright blue trousers of the dragoons. Blue-uniformed figures, as small as ants, bustled in all directions. Whorls of dust and plumes of smoke from cooking fires cast a gray haze over a drill unit that already had formed, marching without drumbeat.
Todd drew in a sharp breath, but Mike knew this was no
22
I
time to be nervous. "There they are, Todd," he said, "just waiting for us before they march off to battle. It won't take long to get down there and sign our loyalty to the Union."
"There must be close to two thousand of them!" Todd said. "Those Rebs won't stand a chance!"
Mike glanced ahead at a footpath that wound down the hillside. "Come on," he said. "This looks like the quickest way down the hill. Are you ready?"
"Ready!" Todd answered.
The path that left the roadway was steep, but Mike and Todd managed to half-climb, half-slide down the length of it. Finally, they landed on the flat plain, close to the southern boundary of the camp.
Brushing dust from their pants and tugging their jackets into place, they walked briskly toward a cluster of soldiers, where a muscular sergeant stood behind a makeshift desk, checking lists and announcing assignments. He seemed to be the right man to approach.
As he and Todd stepped close, Mike could sense the men eyeing them curiously. He heard an occasional snicker of amusement. Mike nervously clung to the drum hanging in place around his neck and extending to its proper length just above his knees. The drum had brought him here, and the drum was going to assure his acceptance as an army musician.
The sergeant looked up from his papers, his glance sweeping over Mike and Todd before it rested on the drum and bugle. "A musician, are you?" he asked Todd.
"Yes, sir," Todd said. "Bugle and drum."
A Dangerous Promise Page 2