Fire Over Atlanta

by Gilbert L. Morris

  Drake shifted uncomfortably. “Uh … have you made any plans … about what you’re going to do, I mean?”

  “Not yet.”

  “But you’ll have to sooner or later, won’t you?”

  “Guess so, but right now I think I’m just gonna help Miss Lori take care of Miss Grace. Tell me about your soldierin’. Have you ever been shot?”

  Drake grinned. “Not yet.”

  “That’s good. A fella that lived down the road from us went off to fight the Yankees, and he came back. He had his ear shot plumb off! Just one of ’em though. Didn’t hurt his hearin’ none.”

  Charlie carried the bulk of the conversation until Lori came in. She looked sparkling fresh, and she wore a dress that Drake had not seen before. Getting to his feet, he said, “Hello, Lori. My, you’re looking real good tonight.”

  “Good to see you, Drake. Would you come on up and meet my aunt?”

  “I’d be glad to.”

  Drake accompanied Lori upstairs where he met Mrs. Holcomb. But she seemed weak and was unable to entertain them very long. When they left her room, he said with a frown, “She doesn’t look good, Lori.”

  Lori’s face was sad. “She’s not doing very well at all. Every day it seems she’s a little weaker.”

  “Do you think she’s going to make it?”

  “I don’t know. She’s getting on, and she’s had a lot of sickness …” She seemed not to want to talk about her aunt. She said, “What do you think of your prisoner?”

  Drake grinned rather feebly. “She’s as good a fella as I’ve ever seen. Does she ever wear anything except overalls?”

  “Not that I know of. I’ve tried to get her into a dress. She won’t listen.”

  “Well, she’s resourceful enough.”

  “Oh, she’s all that. She chops the wood, milks the cow, feeds the chickens. She does all the things that have to be done outside. She’s building a new well wall for us. You ought to see her out there with a trowel, putting those rocks in place.”

  Drake said, “Well, I didn’t come to talk about her. I came to talk about us.”

  “Come on down to the kitchen, and I’ll give you some apple cake that I made,” Lori said quickly.

  The evening did not go as Drake had planned. Charlie came into the kitchen almost at once and did everything but sit between them. When they went into the parlor, Charlie was there. She did not appear at all aware that she was intruding. Her eyes went from Lori to Drake, and from time to time she would ask questions of one or the other. At other times she simply sat, usually with her eyes fixed upon Drake.

  When Drake was leaving to go back to camp in disgust, he said to Lori in one private moment snatched out on the porch, “Can’t you get rid of her? She’s always right between us!”

  “She’s lonesome, I think,” Lori said.

  “Well, I’m lonesome, too,” he muttered. “I wanted to see you, not some girl who can’t make up her mind what she is.”

  “Good night, Drake. I must go in now.”

  He stood looking at the door that slowly closed, then angrily turned away. “I can’t believe that Charlie!”

  Drake marched back to camp, a long walk, and found that more of his squad members had learned about his prisoner. They teased him about her until he grew so angry that they finally refrained.

  When Drake saw Royal, he said, “Did you tell the fellas about Charlie?”

  Royal looked up with surprise. “Just that the girl prisoner was living with Lori and her aunt. Why?”

  “I just wanted to know. I won’t put up with any ragging about her. You understand me, sergeant?”

  “Not from me, Drake. She’s a fine girl, though.”

  Drake shook his head. “That may be, but she sure is a pest!”

  7

  Worse Than a Chigger

  Lori became more and more troubled about her aunt. Mrs. Holcomb was failing swiftly, and finally Lori sent for the doctor.

  A tall man with a gray beard, Dr. Smith examined his elderly patient and later told Lori privately, “She’s weaker every time I see her. There’s only one end to this I’m afraid, Miss Jenkins.”

  Lori had feared that was the case. “Will she die soon, doctor?”

  Dr. Smith chewed his lower lip. “Impossible to say. You’ll just have to give her the best care you can. She’s a good Christian woman and ready to go.”

  “Oh, yes. I’ve never known anybody more ready to meet death than Aunt Grace.”

  After the doctor left, Lori saw Charlie outside splitting wood. She went to the door and called out, “Charlie, come in. I want to talk to you.”

  Charlie came inside, her face reddened from exercise. “What is it, Lori?”

  “It’s about my aunt. She’s not doing very well.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Couldn’t the doctor give her some medicine?”

  “He didn’t think that would help. She’s very old, you know, and it’s just about her time to go.”

  Charlie’s face fell. “She’s been talkin’ to me a lot about the Bible. She was real glad to hear I was a Christian.”

  “I’m glad to hear it too, Charlie.”

  “Yep, I got saved at a revival meetin’ three summers ago. I don’t read too good, but I read the Bible all the time.”

  “Sit down, Charlie. I want to talk to you a while.”

  “That’s good. I want to talk to you too.”

  They sat at the table, and before Lori could speak, Charlie began. “You know, I been thinkin’ a lot about what I want to do. I know you been worried about me, Lori, haven’t you?”

  “Well … you seem so alone, Charlie. No family. I have been concerned about you. Have you decided on something?”

  “Sure have!” Charlie clasped her hands around her knees and rocked back and forth. It was a boyish gesture, but it was somehow winsome in her. “I reckon I’ll get hitched.”

  For a moment Lori could not understand what she meant, and then the meaning became clear. “You mean … get married?”

  “Sure, that’s what I mean. I’m going to get married.”

  Lori could not have been more surprised if Charlie had told her she was going to walk on the moon. “But I didn’t even know you were thinking of getting married!”

  Shrugging her shoulders, Charlie said, “I thought about it once or twice, but back home in Macon it didn’t seem to be what I ought to do. There was the farm to take care of, and I had to help Pa with that. But I’m gettin’ pretty old now not to be married. Lots of girls get married when they’re two or three years younger than I am.”

  “But who are you going to marry?”

  “Oh, I done figured I’d marry up with Drake.”

  Lori was totally speechless. She stared at the girl across from her, who could not have understood the enormity of what she was saying. She realized suddenly that Charlene Satterfield had had none of the upbringing that young women usually had. She said carefully, not wanting to hurt Charlie’s feelings, “But Charlie, does Drake know this?”

  “Not yet, but I figure to tell him.”

  Lori cleared her throat. “That’s not the way it happens.”

  “What do you mean, not the way it happens?”

  “I mean that young men do the courting, not young women.”

  “Oh, sure, I know all about that, but this is different. You see, Lori, when Pa sold the farm, he got it in Federal money, not Confederate. So I’ve got all that, and now whoever marries me, why, he can take it and buy almost any farm he wants.”

  From outside came the yelping of a dog that had apparently treed something, and Charlie looked out the window. “That’s that dog next door. He’d make a pretty good possum hound if I could just get him out in the woods. Look, he’s done treed that yellow cat that lives across the street.”

  But Lori was more interested in Charlie’s marital ideas. Clasping her hands tightly together, she said, “Charlie, I need to talk to you. You just don’t understand that a man wouldn’t be at all in
terested in what you’re saying.”

  Charlie seemed genuinely surprised. “Why, certain he would! I’ve got the money to buy a good farm. I can work as good as any man. Drake would be glad to get a deal like that.”

  Lori felt helpless. “Charlie, a man wants more than a farm, and somebody to plow, and … there are other things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Why, I mean like … well, like …” Lori suddenly bogged down, for she did not know where to start. Finally she said, “Well, like romance.”

  “I don’t know much about that,” Charlie said. “But I’ll do everything that has to be done to be a good wife.”

  After the girl left to split more wood, Lori sat at the table for some time in a daze. She’s headed for a terrible fall. I hope she doesn’t say anything to Drake about this. She’s so straightforward and says whatever comes to her mind. Then she spoke aloud. “I don’t know how to help her, and I’m pretty sure Drake is not going to like it!”

  Rosie came to a dead stop and grabbed Drake’s arm, jerking him around and pointing at a shop window. “Look, that’s just what I been lookin’ everywhere for!”

  Drake was in a hurry to get to Lori’s house, but he stopped long enough to see that Rosie was staring at a display of bottles. He read the advertisement and then scowled in disgust. “Rosie, you don’t need any more medicine! You got enough now to stock a store.”

  “But you know how my heart is. It ain’t good at all,” Rosie complained. “I been meanin’ to get some of this for some time. Come on in, now.” He hauled Drake into the shop, and when the clerk came up—a small man with a balding head—he said, “I want some of that Dr. Eckels Australian Auriclo.”

  The clerk grinned. “Yes, sir. How much do you want?”

  “I better have three or four bottles.”

  The clerk quickly gathered the bottles together and held up one. “According to what this says, this’ll do almost anything for you, sir.”

  Rosie took the bottle and read the label. “It’s good for shortness of breath, fluttering, palpitation, irregularity or intermediate pulse, and an oppressed feeling in the chest. Well, I got all them symptoms,” he said with vigor. “Ain’t that right, Drake?”

  Drake had long since given up trying to cure Rosie of his imaginary illnesses. “Just buy the stuff and let’s go!” he said.

  Rosie reached down into his pocket and pulled out a roll of Confederate bills. He paid for the patent medicine, and as the two soldiers went outside he said, “Now, I’m gonna get my heart fixed up at last.”

  Drake knew that there was nothing at all wrong with Rosie’s heart. He had seen him go through battles that put most men past their endurance—without even breathing hard.

  At the Holcomb house, Lori welcomed them, and Charlie came hurrying in from the yard where she had been feeding the chickens.

  Rosie made a point of walking over and shaking hands with Charlie. “Hello there, Charlie,” he said. “You’re lookin’ mighty fine.”

  “Hi, Rosie. I’m glad you came. You been doin’ any fightin’ with the Rebels?”

  “Oh, no,” he said. “They’re all on the run. I did hear that there was gonna be some fightin’ back in Tennessee where General Hood’s gone, but all we got to do is set in Atlanta here and be sure the Rebels don’t come back.”

  “I got some buttermilk, Rosie. Come on, and I’ll get it for you.”

  “That sounds good. Buttermilk’s good for an upset stomach.”

  Charlie looked at the tall soldier. “Is your stomach upset?”

  “Well, it ain’t now, but it might be. But if I drink that buttermilk, it won’t be, will it now?”

  He followed her into the kitchen, where Charlie poured him a tall glass of buttermilk and watched him drink it with relish. Then he pulled a medicine bottle out of his pocket and said, “Look at that. I got me some new heart medicine.”

  “I didn’t know anything was wrong with your heart. You sure don’t look like it. You’re such a big, fine-lookin’, strappin’ fella.”

  Rosie stared at her with astonishment. He knew that in fact he was tall, gangly, and not at all handsome. “Been a long time since someone said that I was fine-lookin’. I guess not since my mama said it back when I was a baby sittin’ in the cotton row.” He drank the last of the buttermilk and grinned. “Maybe they got some medicine to make you good-lookin’.”

  “You look good enough to me. I sure like tall, lanky fellas. They look so much better than the little, short, stubby ones.”

  “Well, I’m tall enough, I reckon.” He studied her, admiring the rosiness of her cheeks. She had very attractive features too. Her lips were red, and her eyes were large and widely spaced. He admired especially the unusual, curly brown hair. “What have you been doin’ with yourself, Charlie?” he asked.

  Soon they were deep in conversation at the kitchen table. Rosie, who was rather good at getting information out of people, found out many things about this young woman. Finally he said, “I might come callin’ on you sometime.”

  “Callin’ on me? Why, you’re here now.”

  “No, I mean like a young man callin’ on a young lady. I ain’t ever done much of that, but I guess I could get into practice. Maybe you could put on a dress, and we could go to downtown and let ’em see what we look like.”

  Charlie smiled. “I don’t know about the dress. I’ve only got one, and I haven’t had it on for two years.”

  “You haven’t had on a dress for two years?”

  “No, been pretty busy with the farm. Oh, I mean except for church. Course, I wear it to church every time I go.”

  Rosie thought that most young women would not have been satisfied with one dress, but he was learning things about Charlie, and he liked what he saw.

  Later on, Drake and Lori and Rosie and Charlie went into the sitting room and looked at old pictures in Mrs. Holcomb’s family album. As usual, such pictures were amusing, and the four of them enjoyed them very much. Afterward, Lori said, “How about some music?”

  “That would be mighty fine,” Rosie said with enthusiasm. “Drake, play us a tune on that fiddle over there.”

  Drake picked up the violin from the table. He fingered it for a moment, tuned it, then began playing a lively song.

  “Why, I know that,” Charlie said. “We sing it all the time around Macon.”

  “Let’s hear you sing it,” Rosie said.

  At once Charlie began singing a folk song that was popular all over the South. She had a clear, powerful, and very sweet voice.

  When she finished, Lori said, “Charlie, you have a beautiful voice!”

  “Well, I just sing mostly church songs.”

  “Then sing one of those,” Lori said.

  Without any accompaniment at all, Charlie began “Amazing Grace.” She sang it simply and without the benefit of musical training, but the beauty of her voice filled the room.

  When she was through this time, Rosie said, “That do beat all I ever heard! You’re a regular canary!”

  For the rest of the evening Drake played and sang, many times accompanied by Charlie. She did not know all the songs he did, but when their voices did join, they blended together very sweetly.

  But as the evening went on, Drake grew restless. Charlie had not been more than three feet away from him for two hours. He finally whispered to Lori, “Can’t we get away from these two? That Charlie, she’s worse than a chigger!”

  “Don’t say that, Drake. She’s very much alone.”

  “I can’t help that. I didn’t take her to raise.”

  The evening finally came to an end, and the two men reluctantly rose to leave. They said their goodbyes to the girls and started down the street. They had not gone more than ten feet before they heard Charlie’s voice.

  “Drake—wait a minute!”

  He turned with some surprise, and Charlie came bounding up and looked into his face. She seemed nervous, and her lips trembled a little, but she said firmly, “I got somethin’ to
tell you, Drake.”

  “What is it, Charlie?”

  “Well, when Pa sold the farm in Macon,” she said, “he got the sale price of it in Federal money. I got it all. We ain’t spent hardly none of it, me and Pa. Well, now he’s gone and buried, and I got to do somethin’.”

  Drake could not imagine what in the world Charlie was leading up to. He glanced at Rosie, who appeared equally puzzled. “What is it you want to do?”

  “I want you and me to marry up, Drake—and then we can take the money, and we can buy us a farm.”

  Drake’s jaw dropped. He was aware that Rosie had gasped. He looked carefully at Charlie to see if she was joking—and saw that she was not.

  “It’s almost five hundred dollars, Drake—in Union money. We can buy a place with a house on it, and a barn, and some stock. And I can plow as good as any man. Together, you and me could have a good farm.”

  Drake had faced many a crisis but nothing like this. He pulled his handkerchief out and wiped his brow, which suddenly seemed to be covered with sweat. He looked over to Rosie for support, but the tall, gangling soldier looked to be so stunned he could not speak.

  At last Drake said firmly, “Charlie, that’s not the way it’s going to be. We don’t even know each other. I appreciate your offer, but I’m just not thinking of getting married right now. Good night, Charlie.”

  He turned and walked away as quickly as he could.

  Drake did not see the tears come into Charlie’s eyes, but Rosie did. Rosie reached out and took her hand. “Don’t feel bad, Charlie. It just came as a shock to him.”

  “He don’t want me.”

  “You’re a fine girl, and you’ll find somebody someday. I’m afraid Drake and you wouldn’t get along too well anyhow. He’s kind of a high flier.”

  “What’s that mean?”