Home of the Brave

by Jeffry Hepple

  At the sound of a knock on the door of her room, Anna Van Buskirk stopped unpacking her suitcase. “Who is it?”

  “It’s me, Nancy,” a female voice said through the door.

  Anna slipped the latch, opened the door and went back to her unpacking.

  Nancy Vreeland came in, closed and latched the door. “How was Easter?”

  “Boring.”

  “What happened?”

  Anna shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “Don’t give me short answers. You were supposed to stay in New Jersey all week.”

  “I never said that.”

  Nancy sat down on Anna’s bed. “Yes you did.”

  “No I didn’t. I said I might stay all week.”

  “Well if you’re here now you didn’t even stay for Easter.”

  “I left on Saturday.”

  “If I’d known you weren’t going to stay I’d have gone with you.”

  Anna bumped the dresser drawer closed with her hip then knelt to push the empty suitcase under the bed. “You didn’t miss anything.” She stood up, walked to the vanity and began unpinning her hair.

  “Was Jack there?” Nancy got off the bed, picked up the hairbrush from the vanity and took over the job of letting Anna’s hair down.

  “Yes.” Anna looked at her friend in the vanity mirror. “And so were Caroline and little John.”

  “My sister said that they’re not getting along.” Nancy began brushing Anna’s long, brown hair.

  “If you’re harboring some hope of a divorce, let it go. Divorce is unthinkable in our family.”

  “Caroline might demand one.”

  “Jack’s just like my father. He would never agree to a divorce under any circumstances.”

  “What if Caroline had a lover?”

  Anna turned around. “Does she?”

  “I don’t know.” She put her hands on Anna’s shoulders and turned her back toward the mirror. “I was just asking, what if.”

  “My mother abandoned us, took God only knows how many lovers and did unspeakable things. But my father took her back without as much as a cross word. Jack’s the same way. Forget him. He’s married forever.”

  Nancy sighed. “I would have liked to be your sister-in-law.”

  “I’d love to have you as my sister-in-law,” Anna replied. “What happened between you and William? You never told me.”

  “I never told you because I knew you wouldn’t approve.”

  “Of what?”

  “Never mind. Let’s just say that William scares me and leave it at that.”

  “William’s just conceited, he’s not dangerous.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Anna.”

  Anna turned to look at her. “What?”

  Nancy shook her head.

  “He seduced you?”

  “The easy answer would be yes; but the truth is that I gave myself to him enthusiastically.”

  “What?” Anna gaped at her. “You slept with my brother? I asked you and you said that you didn’t.”

  “I didn’t sleep with him. Sleeping is probably the only thing we didn’t do.” She rolled her eyes. “And I didn’t do half of what he wanted me to do.”

  “What did he want you to do?”

  “I’m not comfortable discussing this with you, Anna.”

  “You said that he scares you,” Anna grumbled. “In view of your confession, that bears some explanation.”

  “I shouldn’t have said anything. Please. Can we talk about something else?”

  Anna turned back toward the mirror. “What makes you say that Thomas doesn’t like you? I thought you had him pretty interested in you last summer.”

  Nancy sighed. “Until he found out about me and William.”

  “Thomas isn’t as unbending as Jack.”

  “Oh really? Tell him you’re having an affair with a married man and see what happens.”

  “That’s different.”

  “When does Robert graduate from West Point?”

  “He’s a junior, or whatever they call it. And if you started seeing him you’d surely run into William. He’s an instructor at West Point.”

  “I don’t think we’re destined to be sisters, Anna.”

  “Thomas is still a possibility; if you don’t mind going to Texas.”

  “Texas?”

  “He’s bought land in Texas and he’s planning to go there soon.”

  Nancy giggled and shook her head. “Uh-uh. I’d rather be horsewhipped by William in New York than ride a horse to Texas with Thomas.”

  “I think they go by boat.”

  “To Texas?”

  “I think so.”

  “Hmm. Then I might give Thomas one more try.”

  April 20, 1828

  West Point, New York

  First Lieutenant Thomas Van Buskirk and his younger brother, Cadet Major Robert Van Buskirk, were on the promenade overlooking the Hudson. The trees across the river were clouded in the pale green of new foliage and a pleasure barge from Manhattan was sailing placidly upriver on the gentle breeze.

  “William’s not in his quarters,” Thomas said for the second time.

  “Dad’s right,” Robert replied, ignoring the comment for the second time. “William must complete his service. You shouldn’t try to influence him otherwise.”

  “I’ll pay the government back,” Thomas insisted.

  “That’s ridiculous. It would cost you far more than you have invested in the Texas land.”

  “Well then perhaps you could come to Texas with me in William’s stead.”

  “You mean drop out after almost three full years?”

  “How many times in the past have you wanted to quit?”

  “But I didn’t,” Robert replied. “And next year I’ll be an upperclassman at the top of my class.”

  “I’ve never asked you for anything before, Robert.”

  “Well you’re asking too much now, Thomas. I won’t quit. I’ve worked too hard and too long to get where I am.”

  “I’ve come to expect that kind of selfishness from William, but not from you, Robert.”

  “It’s not selfishness, Brother; it’s duty.”

  “Bah.”

  Robert shook his head. “What’s wrong with you? Can’t you understand that we’re bound by contract and by honor?”

  “Now you sound like Dad.”

  “Thank you. I cannot think of a finer compliment.”

  “Damn it, Robert, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

  Robert sighed. “I’ll give you my share of Great-Grandmother’s inheritance and you can buy slaves to help you, but I will not drop out of the Academy, Thomas, and that is final.”

  “Buy slaves?” Thomas said, raising an eyebrow. “Mother would kill me.”

  “Well hire people in Texas then. I don’t know. Do you want the money or not?”

  “Yes. But I’ll pay you back.” He looked toward the River. “I wonder where William is.”

  Robert shrugged. “I m-must get back. I have a good deal of studying to do before tomorrow.”

  Thomas looked back at Robert sharply. “What are you hiding?”

  “Me?”

  “Of course, you. You always stammer when you evade or tell a lie.”

  “I wasn’t lying. S-staying at the top of my class is much harder for me than it was for Jack, William and you.”

  “Where’s William, Robert?”

  Robert shook his head. “He’ll kill me if I tell you.”

  “I’ll kill you if you don’t.”

  “Damn. I hate being the Little Brother.”

  “Too bad. Where’s William?”

  Robert took a moment to reply. “He has rooms in the town. He stays there on weekends and days when he’s not teaching or on duty.”

  “Why would he do that? The instructor’s quarters here are beautiful.”

  “I’ve already said too much, Thomas.”

  “A woman?”

  “I didn’t
tell you that.”

  “What else didn’t you tell me?”

  “Please, Thomas. You don’t know William the way I do.”

  “Damn it, Robert. This is important to me. Why can’t you see that?”

  “She’s married,” Robert said, in a small voice.

  Thomas chuckled.

  “It’s not funny, Thomas. She’s married to a French general that’s attached here as a consultant.”

  “Oh shit.”

  “William’s drinking too much. You know how wild he gets when he drinks. I don’t know what to do.”

  “You should have told me before.”

  “I tried to talk to Jack but he said that Thomas was a grown man who had to make his own decisions. I supposed you’d say the same thing.”

  “Our dear brother, Jack, is a rigid, hard-nosed, narrow-minded bastard who has no compassion for anyone that doesn’t meet his impossibly high standards of morality. Where, in town, is William’s hideaway?”

  “You have to protect me from William, Thomas. If you tell him that I told you about the woman he’ll get his revenge by keeping me from remaining at the top of my class.”

  Thomas waved his hand dismissively. “Even Thomas wouldn’t stoop that low.”

  “You don’t know him any more. He’s got a mean streak. Especially if he’s been drinking.”

  “He doesn’t drink when he’s on duty, does he?”

  “Yes.”

  “If Commandant Worth finds out, William will be sacked and drummed out of the Army. Or does he think that Dad’s friendship with Colonel Worth will protect him?”

  “No. He knows that Dad wouldn’t protect him and that Dad would stop being a friend of Colonel Worth’s if Colonel Worth did.” Robert sighed. “I think the root of the problem is that William doesn’t see this as a real military assignment and he resents Dad’s influence in getting him posted here. That’s why he was so keen about resigning his commission and going to Texas with you. He hates teaching and he hates it here.”

  “Well, I happen to know for a fact that Dad had nothing to do with his getting posted here. The real root of the problem is only that William’s wild and always has been. You didn’t answer me. Where are these rooms of his?”

  “I’m not going to tell you that, Thomas. You’ll have to find it on your own.”

  Thomas looked into his younger brother’s eyes. “You’re really frightened of him,” he said in astonishment.

  “You don’t know, him, Thomas,” Robert said in a voice that was little more than a whisper. “He’s a monster.”

  April 21, 1828

  Cornwall, New York

  According to the county property tax records, William Van Buskirk’s “rooms in town” that Robert had mentioned proved to be a two-story, clapboard house with gingerbread eaves and louvered storm shutters. Thomas climbed the steps to the broad porch and rang the bell.

  The door was opened almost immediately by a very pretty young woman. “It’s about God damn time. I could have bled to death by now.”

  “Pardon me?”

  The woman looked alarmed. “Who are you? Did Bill send for you? Are you the doctor?”

  “No, I’m not a doctor. I’m William’s brother, Thomas.”

  She stepped back to permit him entrance then closed the door behind him. “Don’t you have a medical bag or something?”

  “I wasn’t told to bring anything,” he stammered.

  “I think I have a curved quilting needle. Can you use that?”

  “A curved quilting needle?” he repeated, deciding that he would play along. “Oh. Well, yes. I suppose I can use that.”

  “My sewing is in the parlor,” she said, and waddled through a pair of double doors. “I don’t know why he didn’t tell you what to bring.”

  “You know Bill.” Thomas was trying not to gape at the framed drawings on the walls. All were of nude women in chains, being flogged, or otherwise abused by men in hoods or masks.

  “Where do you want me?” She handed him a small curved needle and a spool of thread.

  “Uh - where would you suggest?” he said, mystified but unwilling to expose his ignorance.

  “The kitchen, I suppose.”

  He nodded and followed her through an adjoining dining room into the kitchen.

  “Do I need to take all my clothes off or can I just hold my dress up?” She began removing the placemats, the salt and pepper shakers and sugar bowl from the table.

  Thomas looked at the curved needle and realized that it was very similar to the suture needles that surgeons used to close wounds. “First tell me what happened?”

  “You can guess.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “It was a wine bottle,” she said in an annoyed tone.

  Thomas nodded, kept his eyes on hers and hoped his expression was neutral.

  “I was screaming that it hurt me, but he must have thought it was from pleasure and he kept pushing until it ripped me. He often gets too rough but he said this was an accident.”

  Thomas put the needle and thread on the kitchen table. “Where is he?” he asked. There was an angry edge in his voice that the woman recognized.

  “Don’t you know?” Her face showed alarm.

  “No.”

  “You’re not really his brother,” she gasped.

  “I’m really his brother but I don’t know who or even what you are.”

  “Get out,” she screamed pointing at the door. “Get out.”

  Thomas hesitated for a moment then he started for the door but it opened and William came through it, followed by Marina.

  “Hello, Brother,” William’s eyes were hooded and dangerous. “Fancy finding you here.”

  “What have you done?” Thomas shouted.

  “That’s enough,” Marina snapped, stepping between them. “Both of you get out.” She looked at the woman for the first time. “No, no, wait. Just a moment. I’ll need one of you to hold Justine.” She put the leather bag she was carrying on the kitchen table and pushed her wet hair back out of her face.

  “I’ll have no part of this,” Thomas said, struggling to regain his composure.

  “Then wait for me in the front room,” Marina replied. “You can take me home when I’m finished and William can stay here with Justine.”

  “My name’s not Justine,” the woman said sharply. “Bill thinks calling me Justine is very funny. She’s a character in a filthy little French book.”

  “I don’t care to know any details of my son’s depravity, thank you,” Marina replied.

  “Why Mother,” William chuckled. “It’s not depravity, it’s art. The book is entitled Les infortunes de la vertu. It was written by Donatien Alphonse François, Marquis de Sade. Are you unfamiliar with his work?”

  Marina turned angrily toward William. “If you think this is a joking matter, I’ll go back home with Thomas and let you solve your problem.”

  William smiled benignly. “Very well, Mother. Very well. You are, as always, the boss.”

  “This is your mother?” the woman shouted. “I send you for a doctor and you bring me your God damned family?”

  Both William and Thomas started shouting and the woman shouted back

  “Stop.” Marina raised her hands. “Everybody just stop talking a moment.” She pressed the heels of her hands to her temples and closed her eyes.

  The three younger people exchanged looks silently.

  “Alright.” Marina took a breath and turned to the woman. “I just came fifty miles up the Hudson in an open boat to help you. My son says that you’re a married woman and that your husband is in Boston until next week, is that correct?”

  “Yes.” The woman nodded. “But I want to know if you can do this without making it worse.”

  “I’ve done it before,” Marina said. “I assisted a midwife when I was a girl. What’s happened to you is very common during child birth.” She turned back to her sons. “William, you stay here and help me. Thomas, wait for me out there, please.
This shouldn’t take long.”

  “I don’t want him here,” the woman said, pointing at William. “No one needs to hold me down.”

  Marina nodded then looked at her boys. “Both of you wait outside.”

  The two men exchanged malevolent looks.

  Marina aimed her index finger at them like a pistol. “If you get into a fight I swear by all that’s holy to make your lives into a living hell. Both of you. Out.” She waited until they had gone then went to the sink to wash her hands. “What’s your name, dear? Your real name.”

  “Why do you need to know?”

  “I don’t really, but it seemed appropriate to know your name if I’m to be handling your most intimate parts.”

  “Carlotta. Carlotta Ramirez. I mean, Carlotta Dubois.”

  “Ah. I’d heard that General Dubois had married a Spanish beauty, half his age.”

  “You know him?” The woman looked terrified. “You won’t tell him, will you?”

  “Of course I won’t tell him. That would expose my son.” She walked back to the table and opened her bag. “I have some camphor but it may hurt more than it helps. The midwife that I assisted didn’t use any kind of topical anesthetic.”

  Carlotta began to cry. “I’m so ashamed.”

  Marina put her arm around her. “That’s silly. You’re not the first young woman who married an old man and wanted to know what life was really about. Unfortunately, you chose my son.”

  “It isn’t Bill’s fault,” Carlotta said quickly. “I like it. The bondage, I mean. He only does it to give me pleasure.”

  “Yes, well, I think you may be wrong about that, but I’d prefer not to discuss it.” Marina took her arm from around the younger woman and blotted Carlotta’s tears with her handkerchief. “We won’t do this until you’re ready. If you haven’t bled to death by now you’re in no real danger.”

  “I’m sorry about how I behaved earlier. You’re very kind and I’m grateful.”

  ~

  Marina and Thomas were standing on the fantail of the ferry. “Do you have any cigars?” she asked.

  Thomas nodded. “You’re not going to smoke a cigar in public, I hope.”

  “Just light one and let me have a puff or two. I’m exhausted.”

  Thomas went through the ritual of clipping and trimming a small cigar then positioned himself to screen Marina from the view of the other passengers before giving her the cigar.