“Papa? Today we can have the woaman candles?”
“That’s right.”
“When?”
“When what?”
“When can we have the woamoan candles?”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Tonight. After dark.”
“That’s a long time,” Charles complained, frowning his impatience.
“Not really. We have to get ready for our picnic at Bennett Park. That will take a while. And we can’t do that until we’ve all eaten our breakfast.” He turned the potatoes and bacon with long practiced skill. “After that we’ll spend the day eating Mama’s fried chicken and playing. You’ll have so much fun you’ll be surprised at how fast it gets dark,” he promised.
“I like picnics. Jonafon told me that woaman candles are vewy pwetty.”
“Jonathon was right. They’re beautiful.” If he didn’t remember those from last year, he probably didn’t recall the main display either. “So are fireworks. Next year the war should be over and if you think roman candles are pretty, just you wait.”
“Jonafon told me they ow pwetty, too. He’s mad because thewe won’t be any today. B’ he said all the money has to go fo’ the owmy.”
“It’s true that it does. In fact, they need the money more than we need fireworks. But don’t worry, Charles my boy. You’ll have many years to enjoy them, so this one time won’t matter too much.”
Their private time came to an end as, one by one, the rest of the family made their way to the kitchen. Margaret admonished him, insisting that Elliot should have woken her but he simply gave her a kiss and told her to have a seat. He was in charge of the meal this morning.
Heat or no heat, this was going to be a wonderful day! Even taking into consideration the unbearable humidity, if things went as smoothly as they’d begun, it promised to be the best day ever. Even Elizabeth, though she didn’t so much as smile, wasn’t quite as dour as usual.
~~~
Most of the residents from in and around Charlotte – and a good many visitors from some distance away, if the size of the crowd was any indication – were gathered around the grandstand, erected the day before in preparation for today’s events.
The mayor, members of the town council, a few of the more pompous businessmen, along with the preacher from the Methodist church (because he had the largest congregation, the mayor and his entourage being the most prominent members) waited patiently for the band to finish playing before starting the ceremony that would kick off the day’s festivities.
The band consisted of five gentlemen who must also have taken their music lessons from Miss Abernathy, Elliot thought, grinning broadly. Like Jonathon, the horn, flute and tuba players managed to play just enough of the right notes so that one was able to tell what they were trying to play. Unlike Jonathon, however, the rest of the notes were not consistently played wrong at all. No, they were all over the scale in random – oftentimes painful – order.
The two drummers merely banged their instruments enthusiastically, grinning broadly and obviously having a great deal of fun.
All-in-all it was an ear offending offering, if one had hoped to be entertained with musical ability. Fortunately everyone was present to simply have a nice day, visiting with friends and family, partaking of good food and fun games so no one minded the utter lack of talent from the band.
Which was a good thing since, before the evening concluded with Roman candles and sparklers, they would have played through every song they ‘knew’ several times. And their repertoire was quite extensive.
Elliot happened to glance down for a moment and caught the discreet tapping of a foot. A foot that happened to be peeking out from beneath the white and blue striped skirt belonging to his wife. He grinned down at her and his heart felt lighter when she smiled back.
Margaret appeared to most as a serious, sometimes grim woman with little sense of fun or lightheartedness, but he knew better. His Meg was tenderhearted and liked to laugh and enjoy herself as much as the next person.
~~~
“Are you sure we should?” Nina gasped, her eyes alight with excitement. Daniel chuckled and almost dragged her to the starting line.
“If we don’t hurry they’ll run out of gunny sacks and we’ll have to wait for the next race,” he told her, unable to hide the enthusiasm in his voice. Nina had missed out on so much in her life that he wanted her to experience everything there was to experience.
“But your leg-”
“I’m already used to using the cane, and you know it hasn’t stopped me from playing baseball. If you stand on my right, we’ll be fine. I’ll lean on you instead of it.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m positive,” he declared as they reached the line just in the nick of time.
It was in moments like this that he felt a sense of sadness because, though she hadn’t talk much about her childhood since the day he’d proposed, he suspected that life in an orphanage had lacked much in the way of fun. He also suspected she hadn’t had a whole lot of it since leaving that place either. Not that he knew anything for a fact. It was just a feeling he had based on her reaction to other things they’d done together. Like the first time he’d taken her fishing off the dam. Such simple pleasures, things he’d always taken for granted, seemed new and exciting to her.
Knowing that broke his heart. If orphanages denied the children who had nowhere else to go all of these things, what sort of life must it be? Even after his father had died, Daniel’s mother still managed to find ways to make life special.
He would spend his life doing the same for Nina, he vowed.
She was giggling as they each worked a leg into the burlap bag someone handed them, her face flushed with excitement, and Daniel could hardly tear his eyes away from her.
She’d surprised him this morning, appearing at the door in a jaunty shirtwaist dress, its top a brilliant yellow, the skirt yellow and white stripes. When he complimented her, she told him she’d made it herself, then produced a straw hat, which she’d trimmed with the striped fabric and finished with off with a big white silk flower.
Stunning was the only word that came to mind then. As well as now.
“On your mark! Get set!” shouted the mayor. “Go!”
Though Nina’s arm was wrapped tightly around his waist, with his around her shoulders, it still took several long moments to find their stride. A quick glance around him confirmed that most everyone else was having the same trouble. Not that it mattered because they, like he and Nina, were laughing themselves silly.
“Oh my goodness!” Nina squealed when another couple tumbled into them, nearly knocking them off their feet.
Daniel quickly maneuvered to his left and out of harm’s way. Or so he thought. Another couple fell directly in front of them. There was no way to avoid them and they, too, tumbled to the ground. He had folded Nina in his arms and twisted so that he bore the brunt of the fall and had the wind knocked clear out of him.
“Daniel! Are you all right?” Nina gasped, pushing herself up off his chest. He couldn’t catch his breath and she cupped his face, hers mere inches from his. “Are you hurt?” He tried to shake his head no but she was holding it so that he couldn’t. “Daniel, please be all right!”
“Nina-” he finally managed to say. It sure felt good to breathe again. “I’m fine. It’s okay. Don’t- Oh no!”
Once again his arms went around her and he quickly rolled out of the way of another couple destined to join the casualties scattered all over the grass.
“Are you okay?” This time the question was from him.
“Yes. But maybe we should get out of here before we get crushed,” she wisely suggested. He vaulted to his feet, pulling her up with him and they hurried to the sidelines to cheer the remaining few on. “That was such fun,” she said a few moments later, after the last of the participants crossed the finish line.
“It was,” he agreed, slinging an arm around her shoulders and steering her away from the crowd once fir
st, second and third place winners were announced. “Maybe we can do something safer next time – like walking a tightrope.”
“Thank you, but no,” she giggled as he led her to their blanket.
“Why don’t we eat instead?” he suggested, helping her down before seating himself. “My mouth has been watering since you told me you made fried chicken and potato salad for us. I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” Nina teased, reaching over to brush his hair away from his forehead, explaining, “There was a piece of grass-”
“Thank you for removing it for me, Miss Hakes. Now about that food,” he said with a grin.
~~~
“Say, that was a great game on Saturday,” Neil Andrews said, his aged voice as shaky as the hand that patted his shoulder in passing.
“Thanks, Mr. Andrews,” Marcus said, trying to smile but knowing he failed miserably.
Mr. Andrews was the fifth to make his annual list so far today, which was a shame, too, because he was a really nice man. But there was no doubt that, before the year’s end, the poor old gent would be gone from this earth.
He hated that he continued with the morbid game he and Derek had played in college. Except Marcus had shown an exceptional talent for predicting which faculty, students and alumni would die within a certain amount of time. He couldn’t possibly guess who might die from injuries or accidents, of course. But for the ill and elderly, there was a certain…something…that he’d always been able to sense.
He’d asked his friend, a couple of years ago, if he ever thought about the game, and Derek admitted to still playing it. It just wasn’t as easy to do in a city as large as Philadelphia. There were too many people, but in his neighborhood he figured he made twelve such predictions every July fourth and maybe two or three were ever right.
Unlike Marcus, who had a near ninety percent record for accuracy. Consistently, year after year after year.
He continued to stroll around the noisy fairground, figuring he could head for home in another hour or so. There weren’t even going to be fireworks this year so there really was no point in staying much longer.
Looking at the crowd around him, engaged in games, splashing in the river and eating mountains of fried chicken, he realized how alone in the world he truly was. The only problem was, so did Colby. And if he didn’t head out soon, he’d find himself roped into sharing a blanket and food with Anna Thornton. Just the thought of having to endure as little as thirty minutes in that woman’s company made him shudder.
Maybe he didn’t need to stay another hour after all.
~~~
Jonathon loved Fourth of July celebrations. He loved the food, the music, the crowds, the games. This year he particularly loved the fact that soldiers were there. Soldiers who would be leaving soon for France. Soldiers who had recently returned. Those were the ones he was particularly interested in. If a boy ever had heroes, it would be these brave, fighting men.
His attention was torn between getting close enough to be within hearing distance of them, and keeping an eye out on Mr. Mertz who was, at the moment, chatting amicably with the preacher from the Methodist church. Given the fact that they were in a very public place, with hundreds of witnesses, Jonathon wasn’t especially concerned. Surely Mr. Mertz wouldn’t do anything suspicious here. Not with all the soldiers in attendance.
His desire to be near his heroes won out and he slipped through the crowd to where he saw Arnold Bodell holding court amid a small crowd of men. They appeared to be hanging on his every word. When he got close he spotted a safe place where he could listen and not draw attention to himself. Some grownups didn’t like children hanging around and listening in, and he didn’t want to risk being told to go play.
Seeing that no one was watching, he hunkered down behind a bush and sat back to hear the most amazing stories a boy could hear.
“…couldn’t get rid of ‘em. No matter how hard we tried,” Arnold was telling everyone.
“You don’t say,” someone responded, sounding shocked. “I hadn’t heard that lice were a problem from anyone else. But then I don’t have any family in the war so I don’t get letters.”
“I think a lot of the guys try to pretty it up so their families don’t worry,” Arnold explained kindly. “But lice, bad as it was, wasn’t the worst of it. Some of us had trench foot because it was so wet and cold. My feet swelled up so bad I couldn’t even tie my boots. And the itching was just awful. But I can’t complain too much because a lot of the fellows got gangrene from it.”
Gangrene? Jonathon’s eyes got wide and his stomach felt a little funny. People had parts of their bodies cut off because of gangrene. Some people even died from it. And soldiers got it from fighting the war from the trenches?
“I had no idea,” another voice gasped, clearly shocked. Jonathon knew how he felt.
“Yeah, I’m glad I was able to serve my country but it wasn’t glamorous like the songs make it out to be. We were overrun with frogs and slugs and beetles. Oh and the smell? I think we all got kind of used to it after a while but when the new people came, well they would get so sick you just had to feel bad for them.”
“What was it from?”
“The latrines. The dead soldiers. Couldn’t bury them deep, you know. We had to do everything at night ‘cause those snipers were good. Couldn’t make a lot of noise so we dug ‘em quick and shallow. That way we didn’t draw a lot of attention. Heck, you couldn’t even look out of a trench during the day without gettin’ your head blown off. You wouldn’t believe how many new soldiers died the same day we got ‘em because they had to have a look at what was out there.”
“Well, I’ll be,” Mr. Spiros murmured. Jonathon knew it was him because he’d been in the shop so many times for candy and ice cream he’d recognize his voice anywhere. Not that any treats sounded very good right now. He was starting to feel very sick.
“It was definitely the worst experience of my life,” Arnold said softly, sadly. “I’ll never forget what I saw. I still have nightmares. Made a real good friend over there. His name was Thomas Larson. Real nice guy. Married, had three boys. He was on the burial detail one night and a sniper got him. I wrote his wife. Hardest letter I ever had to write. Hope no one tells her the stuff I’ve been telling you, though. Nobody really wants to know that you could go a couple of months without a bath, or that the trenches were infested with rats.”
“Rats!”
“Yeah. You’re not gonna believe this but some of them were as big as cats.”
“Now you’re pulling my leg.”
“No, sir, I’m not. It was all the bodies, you see. They had an endless supply of food. Makes me want to throw up remembering it. We tried to scare them off at first but there were too many. Didn’t matter what we did, we couldn’t get rid of ‘em.”
Jonathon had heard enough. More than enough, and he quietly got up and walked away. How could he have been so wrong about what war was? How could he have thought that trench warfare was a fun game to play?
Well, one thing was sure. He wouldn’t be playing it anymore. He didn’t think he could and not remember the things Arnold had been talking about. Jonathon shivered just thinking about rats as big as cats. He didn’t even really like mice, though he’d never admit such a thing to another living soul. Men weren’t supposed to be afraid of anything. Especially not stupid little mice.
~~~
“Hey, Reverend Thornton!” little Billy McGuire called out, waving on his way to only the Lord knew where.
“Good afternoon, Billy.”
Colby couldn’t help but smile at the joyful chaos around him. He’d watched an enthusiastic Nina Hakes enter the sack race with her beau, Daniel Pullman and worried, for a moment, that they would be crushed as one couple after another fell in a heap after one young man tripped and tumbled to the ground with his wife. They did, however, emerge laughing and Colby was relieved. He thought it was long past time someone noticed what a sweet girl Nina was. Obviously Daniel had b
ecause it was as plain as the nose on his face that he adored her. The engagement ring she wore so proudly bore testament to that.
In the open area of the park, boys and young men played a hearty game of baseball. Little girls jumped rope, older girls played hopscotch and young women batted eyelashes at potential beaux. Near the bandstand, where a small brass band played George M. Cohen tunes with more enthusiasm than ability, members of the Suffrage movement milled around with banners and sashes, telling anyone who would listen of the importance of women’s rights. Elizabeth Owens was one of their most fervent supporters, much to the dismay of her mother.
As he settled back against the trunk of a big, old oak tree, on blanket spread over the grass, he thought that life couldn’t get a whole lot better than this. He loved being out among people on happy occasions like this. Actually, he just liked being around people period. Especially on days like today. Not even the war could cast a pall over the festivities which, in his opinion, was good. People needed a chance, every now and then, to relax and forget about the cares of the world.
He, for one, intended to do exactly that. With Anna off gossiping with her cronies, always seeking out new subjects to blather about, he could do it in peace. When suppertime came, she would return to eat with him and then be off again because, of course, she knew better than to try and interest him in her tales.
From the corner of his eye he saw that Jonathon Owens was walking his way, shoulders slumped and clearly not happy. An unusual occurrence, as Colby had never seen the boy when he wasn’t nearly bubbling over enthusiastically about one thing or another.
“Why the sad face?” Colby asked when Jonathon reached him.
“I’ll tell you,” he said, sighing mightily as he flopped down beside Colby. And he did, relating what he’d learned about the war just moments ago. Despondently he finished his story by saying that he was never going to play Trench Warfare again. “It sounded so awful, Reverend Thornton. Nobody ever told me it was like that over there.”
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