Fire Over Atlanta

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Fire Over Atlanta Page 7

by Gilbert L. Morris


  “It means he’s had lots of girlfriends. He’s real popular, bein’ a musician and all, and besides, he’s in love with Miss Lori.”

  “He is?”

  Rosie saw that the girl was totally taken unaware by this.

  “I thought he just liked her,” Charlie said simply. “Guess he thinks I’m a regular fool.” She turned away from him and went inside.

  Rosie watched her go. Then he ran and caught up with Drake, who was still walking rapidly. “Wait a minute, Drake.”

  Drake turned to him. “Did you ever hear of such a thing, Rosie?”

  “No, I never did.”

  “She must be crazy!”

  “No, she’s not crazy. She just hasn’t had as many breaks as some other folks have.”

  “Well, she’s just got to get that idea out of her head! Do you think she understood when I said no?”

  “She’s real cut up about it. I could see that.”

  “I wouldn’t even consider marrying that girl.”

  “I don’t know about that, but I do know one thing.”

  “What?”

  “I know she offered you all she had and didn’t ask for much in return.”

  Drake stared at him, then shook his head. “It’s crazy, and I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

  Knowing Drake’s stubbornness, Rosie said no more. But as they walked on, he kept seeing the hurt look on Charlie Satterfield’s face, and he thought, Drake’s gonna have to be careful, or he’ll hurt that girl real bad.

  8

  A Proposal

  Charlie plunged on out in front of him. “Hurry up, Rosie! They can’t be far ahead.”

  They had come to the woods with a borrowed set of guaranteed possum hounds, and now that the sun was falling in the sky, Rosie was hot, sweaty, and scratched from head to toe by briars. Panting, he struggled free from the clinging vines that reached out and grabbed at him. “Wait up for me, will you, Charlie? I can’t get through this blasted brush!”

  Charlie turned and laughed when she saw him scrambling awkwardly along the path. “I’ve got to give you some lessons in possum hunting, Rosie,” she said. Placing her hands on her hips, she waited until he came up to her. She made a rather fetching picture standing there. When she pulled off her straw hat, her brown curls sprang up at once, caught in the late afternoon breeze.

  “You sure are somethin’ on a trail!” he exclaimed. He took a deep breath. “I thought I’d been on some hard trails before, but I never saw anybody that could follow a pair of coon dogs like you can.”

  His praise brought a flush to Charlie’s smooth, round cheeks. She blinked at the compliment but then put it off by saying, “I guess anybody that’s been out in the woods chasin’ possums since they were four years old, like I been, ought to learn a little somethin’.”

  Suddenly the plaintive howl of a dog sounded from up ahead. “They’ve treed him! Come on, Rosie!” She ran through the woods like a young deer.

  Rosie followed as best he could. He found her standing under a huge persimmon tree, staring up into the branches. The dogs were wild, barking and standing on their hind legs and trying to climb the tree.

  “Will you fellas shut up!” Rosie said. He leaned against the tree and wiped his brow with a red bandanna from his back pocket. “A man in my condition hadn’t ought to go around chasin’ possums through the woods in this heat!”

  Charlie turned to him. “Maybe you ought to take another one of those pills,” she suggested, her full lips curving up in a smile.

  Sensing he was being teased, Rosie stuffed his handkerchief back into his pocket. “You just don’t understand a man who’s got health problems like I have,” he said. “Why, I remember just two years ago the doctor told me I didn’t have two weeks to live.”

  “Did you die?”

  “No, I didn’t die, but I thought I was going to. I had to take nearly a quart of liver medicine. Worst tastin’ stuff I ever had. Anything that tasted that bad had to be good, though. So it cured me all up.” He peered into the upper branches of the tree. “I think I see him up there. One of us will have to climb up and knock him out.”

  “How are you at climbing trees?” Charlie asked.

  “Not very good. It’s not good for my rheumatism.”

  “You and your rheumatism! You’re one of the strongest men I ever saw, Rosie. But I like to climb trees. Here, give me a boost up to that first branch.”

  Rosie shrugged but leaned over and picked her up bodily so that she could reach the lower limb.

  Charlie gasped. “I didn’t mean for you to throw me up here!” She grasped the branch, pulled herself up on it with an acrobatic motion, and grinned back down at him. “Watch out, now. When I knock him loose, you catch him before the dogs tear him

  She started upward into the foliage, and Rosie stood on the ground trying to follow her progress. The tree was tall, however, and the girl disappeared into the upper regions of the branches.

  “Do you see him?”

  “It’s not a him. It’s a her, and she’s got a whole passel of little babies on her back, hangin’ onto her tail.”

  “Well, toss her down. The little ones will make good eatin’ too.”

  “Ain’t gonna do that! Not with a mama.”

  Charlie suddenly reappeared, stepping from branch to branch and easily climbing down.

  When she reached the bottom limb, she said, “Here I come!” Without waiting, she launched herself into the air, and Rosie barely had time to throw his hands up. She struck him in the chest, knocking him backwards, and when he sprawled on the ground, she fell with him.

  “Wuffff!” Her weight knocked the breath out of him. Looking up, he saw her dark eyes laughing at him, and at the same time he became aware that she was not at all like any of the young men he had gone possum hunting with.

  Suddenly Charlie’s cheeks flamed red. She scrambled up, stammering, “I—I didn’t mean to do that, Rosie! Are you hurt?”

  Slowly he sat up, braced himself, and rose to his feet. He was rather embarrassed about the whole thing himself. “I guess I’ll live through a couple more clean shirts,” he muttered finally. “You sure are a funny girl, Charlie. I never saw another one like you.”

  Charlie looked up at him. “What do you mean? Because I don’t wear dresses?”

  “Well, there’s that—but you don’t act like a girl. Most girls I know would never think about going possum hunting, and they wouldn’t do what you just did—knock a fella down by jumping out of a tree at him.”

  He saw hurt come into her eyes.

  “I’m sorry I can’t be more what I ought to be. But I been raised so much like a boy, I guess I just think like one.” Her curls swung in the breeze. “I wish I was a boy. They have a lot more fun than girls.”

  “I’m glad you’re not!” Rosie declared. “Plenty of ugly, hairy-legged boys around. What we need is more nice-looking girls like you.”

  She looked up again, as though to see if he was teasing. “I know I’m not pretty like Lori is,” she said, “and I haven’t had much of a chance to learn how to put on pretty clothes. But I bet she can’t plow like I can.”

  “I bet she can’t either.” Rosie grinned. Then he looked at the sky. “It’s gettin’ dark. We better get back. Not ladylike for a girl to stay out after dark with a soldier.” He added, “You know how soldiers are. Always romancing girls.”

  Charlie was walking along with her long, free strides. She gave the lanky soldier a questioning glance. “Do you romance girls, Rosie?”

  “Well, not as much as Drake. Fellas as homely as I am is not likely to be hangin’ around girls much.”

  “Did you ever have a sweetheart?”

  “I thought I had one once, but a better-lookin’ fella came along and took her away from me.”

  Charlie thought about this. “I bet the one she got wasn’t as nice as you.”

  The two walked through a stand of pines where the needles had fallen for years unharvested and untouched so t
hat their steps made no sound at all.

  As they continued, Rosie was amazed that Charlie seemed able to name every bird, every bush, every plant in the forest. “You sure do know the woods,” he said. “I was raised mostly in a small town. Although my folks farmed for a long time.”

  “Did you like farming?”

  “Sure did. I like it better than anything I’ve done since.”

  “So do I. I like everything about it. I like breaking up the land in the spring and puttin’ the seed in. Then you wait, and pray for rain, and for lots of sun—and then one day little, tiny green tongues start coming up. There’s nothin’ like it, is there, Rosie?”

  Rosie said, “I like it, but not everybody does. Pretty hard to work all year on a crop, and then have the bugs eat it up, or the floods take it, and just lose it all.”

  “That’s just part of it,” Charlie said firmly. “When that happens, you just wait until the next year and try again.” They talked about farming a while longer, and then she changed the subject. “Tell me some more about Drake.”

  “Drake? Well, he’s all kinds of a fella. Good lookin’, as you can see, and can play a fiddle. Can do just about anything.”

  Charlie digested that, then said, “I guess he’s had lots of sweethearts.”

  “Quite a few.”

  The brief answer did not seem to satisfy her. “I bet none of his sweethearts had a farm like I’m going to have. That ought to be in my favor, don’t you think, Rosie?”

  Rosie did not answer at once. He walked along slowly, letting her match his stride. “It ought to, I guess—if he wants to farm.”

  “Didn’t he ever farm? Didn’t he grow up on one?”

  “No, his folks ran a store. He’s mostly a town fella, Drake is. He likes his comfort.”

  The news seemed to depress Charlie, but then she brightened. “He’ll like it if we get a nice house.”

  Rosie said slowly, “Charlie, have you ever thought that there might be more to gettin’ married than havin’ a place to go to?” When she turned to look at him, he threw his hands apart in a helpless gesture. “I mean, after all, two people don’t live together for all their lives just to have a farm, or a house in town, or a business. I mean, there’s more to it than that.”

  “Oh, I know,” Charlie said. “Miss Lori talked to me about that. About romance, you mean.”

  “Yes, about romance. A fella likes a little romance in his courtin’. Don’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I never had any.”

  “Didn’t any fellas come hang around you back in Macon?”

  “Why, no. Well, maybe some of ’em did, but I knew they wasn’t serious. They was after the town girls or the ones that had pretty dresses and knew how to dance. Mostly they let me alone.”

  “I think you better study about how to make yourself more like other girls. If you’re gonna catch a fella like Drake—you gotta use the right bait.”

  “What do you mean—bait?”

  “A fish don’t bite a bare hook, does he? You got to put a nice, juicy worm on there.”

  “Are you callin’ me a worm?”

  Rosie laughed aloud. “Of course not! But a worm’s what draws the fish, and you know what draws fellas like Drake. You just said it. Fancy dresses and learnin’ how to be especially nice to a fella …”

  “How would you want a girl to behave if you was lookin’ for one?”

  “Me? Well now, I’m different from Drake. I’d just as soon go possum huntin’ with you as go to any old dance. But lots of fellas want a girl to tell ’em how handsome they are and smile a lot at ’em. Just stuff like that.”

  “Maybe I can try to do some of that,” Charlie said. “It don’t seem to come natural, though. You’ll help me, won’t you, Rosie?”

  “I can’t do none of that for you. I can just tell you what I think.” He hesitated, then said, “But I sure wouldn’t want you to make a mistake. You haven’t had much experience, Charlie, and Drake’s had a lot. That could be a bad combination.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, some fellas would take advantage of a girl.”

  “I know that. I’ve seen enough of it, I guess. Although it’s never been tried on me.”

  “Yeah, but you’re just practically throwing yourself at Drake, saying, ‘Here I am, take me.’ If a fella didn’t have any honor, he might take you up on that, then leave you flat.”

  Charlie’s cheek flamed. “I would never do anything wrong, and I don’t think Drake would either.”

  “I just want you to be sensible. You’re a good Christian girl, and just remember that.”

  Suddenly Charlie reached over and took Rosie’s hand. She squeezed it and then held it in both of hers. “You’re a good friend, Rosie. I never had a friend like you. I appreciate you helping me out.”

  Rosie was very conscious of the girl’s warm, strong hands and of her large, winsome eyes. He wanted to touch the curls that adorned her head but knew that would be a mistake. “Charlie,” he said finally, “I just want you to have the best.”

  “I tell you, Rosie, you got to keep that girl away from me! She’s driving me crazy!”

  Drake had been walking guard duty when Rosie suddenly appeared out of the darkness. He’d been so startled he raised his musket and almost pulled the trigger.

  “Give the password!”

  It turned out Rosie didn’t know the password, and Drake glared at him, saying, “You’re gonna get yourself killed, jumpin’ out of the dark like that! What’s the idea, Rosie?”

  “Got to talk to you, Drake.”

  “Can’t it wait till tomorrow?”

  “I don’t think so. We better talk now. You just go on walkin’. I’ll walk along beside you.”

  “All right. What is it, then?” Drake resumed his patrol. He hated guard duty as he hated most things about the army. Actually he was glad Rosie had shown up, because he was growing lonesome and the hours seemed to drag. “Where have you been?” he asked the rangy soldier.

  “Been over to see Charlie.”

  “Did you see Lori?”

  “Sure, I saw Miss Lori. She gave me a piece of apple pie.”

  “Did you bring any back for me?”

  “Nope, I ate it all. That was the last piece too.”

  “Rosie! You’re always fussin’ about how sick you are, and then you eat like a starving wolf! How did she look?”

  “Charlie?”

  “Lori!”

  “I didn’t come over to talk about Lori. You and Royal talk enough about her. I came to talk about Charlie.”

  And that was when Drake said, “You got to keep that girl away from me! She’s driving me crazy!”

  “Drake, I want you to listen to me,” Rosie said. “You’re not acting right about Charlie.”

  Drake whirled to face him. “I’m not acting right? She’s the one who’s not acting right. She follows me everywhere I go. I can’t turn around without her being underfoot. She doesn’t have any pride at all, and she doesn’t know a thing!”

  “That’s right,” Rosie said quickly. “She doesn’t know anything, Drake. She hasn’t had a chance to. That pa of hers, he treated her like a boy and made her feel like a boy, and now she doesn’t know how a girl ought to act. But that’s not her fault.”

  “It’s not my fault either!” Drake snapped.

  When he started marching again, Rosie followed alongside. “Look, I know she’s aggravatin’, and I know you’re not interested in her. But she can’t understand that. If she’d been brought up like a girl, she’d know these things. But all she knows is she likes you, and she thinks you ought to like her.”

  “Did she tell you about the farm she’s going to buy me?” Drake asked.

  “Sure she did, and you ought to be grateful for

  it.”

  “Rosie, you know I don’t like farms. I don’t like cows, or chickens, or plowing, or anything else about farms. If I ever get out of this army, I’m gonna go to a big city. Maybe San Francis
co—or even New York—where something’s happening.”

  “That’s all right, Drake. You may do that, but you got to figure out some way to do it without breakin’ Charlie’s heart.”

  “I got all I can do to beat Royal out. I think he’s gettin’ the inside track with Lori. Look, if you want to do some good, just go to that girl and tell her that it’s useless and to leave me alone.”

  “She wouldn’t believe me, but she’d believe you.”

  “All right. I’ll tell her then.”

  “Wait a minute.” Rosie reached out and pulled him to a stop. “I don’t like the way you said that. You got to be gentle with her. You could hurt her real bad.”

  Drake stared into the darkness at his friend. He liked Rosie, but his nerves were on edge. He hated the army. He wanted out! If it had not been for Lori, he might have deserted long ago. “Look, you’ll just have to tell her yourself. I can’t do it to suit you, and I’ve already tried to hint around every way I know that I’m not interested in any girl in overalls.”

  “She’s a fine girl, Drake.”

  “That may be, but she’s not for me. Now, I don’t want to hear any more about it. Either you talk to her, or I’ll tell her. And you could probably do it better than I could.”

  Rosie stood in the darkness as Drake marched off. Then he turned and slowly made his way back to his tent, pulled off his shoes, undressed, and stretched out on his cot. For a long time he lay there, thinking about girls who hunted possums. “I never saw another one like her,” he whispered, “but she sure is headed for a fall.”

  As soon as Royal walked into the house, Lori knew that something had brought him there other than just a visit. “Why, hello, Royal. You’re off duty tonight?”

  “I got Ira Pickens to fill in for me. I had to talk to you, Lori.”

  “Come on into the kitchen. I was shelling some peas.”

  “No, let’s go into the sitting room.”

  “Sitting room?” she said with surprise. “All right.” She led the way into the front room and turned up the lamp. It lit the room with a flickering, yellow glow. “Sit down, Royal. Is something wrong?”

  Royal bit his lip and remained standing. “Yes, something is wrong, Lori.” He was not much taller than average, but Lori was so small that she had to look up. He studied her for a moment, then said, “You probably know what I’m going to say.”

 

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