by Al Lacy
“Oh yes. It’s a large one too.”
“Do you think I might be able to get a job there? Since you might not be able to go to work for a while, my income would take care of us.”
“I have no doubt they would hire you immediately. They are always short of nurses.”
“All right. We’ll get married as soon as you’re released from the hospital. We’ll go to Harrisburg and build our lives together in your hometown.”
Nate closed his eyes. “I’m the most fortunate man in all the world.”
“I’ll do my best to keep you thinking that.”
He looked up at her tenderly. “I don’t think it, sweetheart, I know it. Please … please help me adjust myself in this wheelchair again.”
When their hands met, Nate kissed both of Millie’s hands again.
Suddenly, it struck Nate that he could hear no footsteps and no voices in the hall. He looked both directions. “Millie, for the moment, we’re alone.”
“Yes, I see that.” Quickly, she bent down and they stole their first kiss.
At Harrisburg a cold, hard winter had set in. During the warmer months, Jenny Linden had taken her mother for walks on Fridays and Sundays, her two days off from work. But now—in January—Myrna remained inside every day, with a fire crackling in the parlor’s fireplace and in the kitchen stove. She occupied herself with what housework she could do, and watching people and vehicles pass by on the snow-laden street from the parlor window.
Dr. Adam Griffin was coming by the house once a week to check on her and to keep her supplied with paraldehyde and sedative powders, which to a degree, were helping to keep her stable. Jenny had her hands full, however, trying to keep her mother’s spirits up concerning her father. Myrna was having frequent nightmares, where she observed Captain William Linden being killed in one violent way or another. Only by administering large doses was Jenny able to keep her mother from sinking deeper into her depression.
Jenny and Myrna talked daily about President Lincoln’s words—as reported continually in the newspapers—which were designed to give the people of the North hope that the Civil War would be over soon. Lincoln’s optimism helped Jenny to cling to the hope that both her father and Nate would be coming home in a few months.
Late one cold, snowy Sunday afternoon, the two were sitting side by side near the parlor window, watching buggies and carriages pass by on the street. People could be seen through the falling snow, walking along the sidewalk with their heads bent against the cold wind.
The scene was gray, marked only by the spider-web tracery of trees—firs, their needles dark green beneath the clumps of snow on every bough; and bare oaks and maples, their limbs spindly.
At one point, Jenny went to the kitchen to put an apple pie in the oven. From time to time, she made a trip to the kitchen to check on the pie.
Soon evening came on, pulling the gray of the heavily clouded day through the yards, past the frozen lawns, and from the snow-muffled houses with their tightly-closed windows. Jenny left her chair and lit the three lanterns in the parlor, filling the room with a soft yellow glow. She returned to her chair, sat down, and sighed.
Myrna turned and smiled. “I wish your papa was here to enjoy the evening with us.”
“Oh yes, Mama. And Nate too.”
Jenny had written her twenty-fourth letter to Nate Conrad the night before and had placed it in the drawer with all the others for him to read when he finally came home. But having written the letter, she was feeling the warmth of the love she was sure Nate had in his heart for her.
Turning to her mother, Jenny said, “Mama, do you realize if President Lincoln is right—and I hope he is—that by the time all of this snow is melted away, it won’t be long till Papa and Nate come home.”
Myrna turned her tired eyes on her daughter. “Why do I keep having bad dreams about your papa being killed in the War if he is coming home to us?”
Jenny reached over and patted her arm. “Please, Mama. I keep telling you those are only bad dreams. Nothing more. They go with your depression, but there is no reason to believe they are anything more than horrible nightmares that will be gone as soon as Papa walks through that door. You’ve got to hold on to that.”
Myrna’s brow furrowed. “I’m trying, honey, but it’s so hard.”
“Just remember the love he has for you. This will help you, Mama. It sure helps me as I think of Nate. He and I have such a deep love for each other. We’re going to be so happy when he comes home and we get married.”
“Honey, I need to ask you something.”
“What, Mama?”
“If … if it really should turn out that your papa doesn’t come home from the War, but Nate does—what are you going to do with me?”
“Mama, what do you mean?”
“I mean, if you marry Nate, you’ll be making your own home. I … I can’t stay here alone.”
Jenny rose from her chair, bent over, and kissed her mother’s forehead. “If it should be that Papa doesn’t come home from the War, sweet Mama, Nate and I will take you into our home. I would never abandon you.”
Tears swelled up in Myrna’s eyes. “Thank you, honey. Thank you.”
Jenny kissed her forehead again. “I’ve been thinking, Mama, it might be a nice change to have our supper in here by the fireplace. Would you like that?”
Suddenly, Myrna gasped, her eyes fixed outside. Her hands flew up to her mouth. “Jenny! Look! It’s your papa! He’s come home!”
Jenny focused her eyes on the obscure figure of a man moving in the haze of falling, swirling snow. Her heart banged her ribs. “Mama, I can’t make out who it is. It’s too dark to see his face.”
Myrna clapped her hands. “It’s William, that’s who it is! My bad dreams were just bad dreams. Oh, Jenny, your papa has come home!”
The man was almost to the porch. Jenny whirled, picked up one of the lanterns, ran across the room, and darted into the hall. She hurried to the front door and pulled it open just as the sound of footsteps were heard scrunching snow on the porch. The glow of the lantern exposed the man’s face.
“Oh! Dr. Griffin!”
Dr. Adam Griffin wiped snowflakes from his face and smiled. “Hello, Jenny. I was just making a house call at the Montgomery house three doors down, and I thought since I was so close, I’d walk over here and see how your mother is doing.”
“Please come in.”
When Griffin stepped through the doorway, Jenny closed the door and faced him. “Mama’s been about the same, Doctor. She—she spotted you coming into the yard, and with the blowing snow and darkness gathering, she thought it was Papa coming home.”
“I see. Guess I should have driven the buggy down here.”
“No, no. It’s all right. Let’s go into the parlor so she can see that it’s you.”
When Griffin followed Jenny into the parlor, Myrna was on her feet, staring at them, her countenance showing the tension she was feeling. Abruptly, the muscles of her face relaxed. “Oh. Dr. Griffin. I thought you were William.”
He moved up close to her. “Yes, Jenny told me. I’m sorry it’s only your doctor, but as I explained to Jenny, I was down here at the Montgomerys’ making a house call. Since I was so close, I thought I’d stop in and see how you are doing.”
“Well, you did give me a start, but other than that, I’m doing all right. If only William was here, I’d be doing excellently.”
“I understand. If President Lincoln is right, the War will be over in a few months, and William will indeed be coming home.”
Griffin then excused himself and left.
Jenny slid Myrna’s rocking chair close to the fireplace and tossed a couple of fresh logs on the fire. “Mama, I was asking you about our eating in here for a change. Would you like to eat here by the fire?”
Myrna made her way to the rocking chair and sat down. “That would be nice, honey.”
“All right. You sit there and soak up the heat, and I’ll get supper ready.”
She poured the hot water into the teapot and left it to steep, then made split pea soup with slices of ham, and put it on the stove. Next, she sliced cornbread and buttered it.
She sat down at the kitchen table and waited for the soup to get hot. While waiting, Jenny let her thoughts go to the day she and Nate would marry. Just think, she mused, I’ll be Mrs. Nate Conrad. Sounds wonderful!
When the food was ready, she rubbed a hand over her tired eyes and pushed herself up from the table. The pungent aroma of the split pea soup permeated the kitchen, and Jenny’s stomach growled from hunger.
She filled two bowls with the steaming soup and placed them on a tray, adding a small plate of cornbread. When she had put the teapot and two cups on the tray, she carefully carried it to the parlor.
Myrna smiled widely when her daughter entered the room. “That smells delicious, dear. Thank you for working so hard to tempt my appetite.”
Jenny placed the tray on the small table that stood by the rocking chair. “You are so welcome, Mama. It is always rewarding to see you eat what I put before you. After all, we don’t want Papa to come home and find you a shadow of your former self, do we?”
When Jenny had made sure everything was right for her mother, she brought a straight-backed wooden chair from across the room and sat down, facing her over the small table.
The fire burned brightly in the fireplace and the lanterns gave a rosy glow to the faces of mother and daughter as they enjoyed their repast. They talked quietly about William and Nate coming home in June or July, and periodically gazed out at the falling snow lazily making its way toward the ground past the lace-curtained window.
12
IT HAD SNOWED MOST OF THE NIGHT. Mounds were piled against the house and covered the yard when Jenny Linden opened the front door of the house to leave for work.
The sky had cleared just before dawn and the brilliant sun shone down from a clear blue sky. As she closed the door and moved down the porch steps, making deep imprints in the snow, Jenny’s breath hung in the still, cold air. Glittering snowflakes, like thousands of diamonds, seemed to dance on the billowy snow.
Jenny squinted against the glare as she carefully picked her way through the eight-inch depth toward the sidewalk. When she reached it, she turned, painted a smile on her face, and waved a gloved hand at her mother who sat in her rocking chair at the parlor window.
Myrna gave a tiny, weak wave back, then dropped her hand into her lap and stared at her daughter.
Jenny’s heart felt like a chunk of lead. She paused for a moment, gazing at the forlorn figure in the rocking chair. She’s got that longing look in her eyes again. She’ll sit there all day, watching for Papa to come walking into the yard.
Jenny became suddenly aware of the freezing temperature and the iciness creeping into her feet. She pulled her coat collar up, lowered her chin into it, and moved briskly down the street toward downtown Harrisburg. Her mind was clouded with worry over her mother, but she was still very much aware of the beauty of the bright winter morning.
When Jenny reached the general store, she opened the door and stepped inside. A blast of welcome warm air accosted her. Zack had a roaring fire going in the potbellied stove, and it had warded off the deep chill that had been in the store from the long, cold night. She smiled as she saw that Emma had the coffeepot on top of the stove. The mixed aromas of hot coffee and burning wood permeated the air.
Stomping the snow from her high-top shoes, Jenny moved up to the stove, took off her gloves, stuffed them in her coat pocket, and rubbed her hands together while holding them over the stove. At that moment, she heard footsteps coming from the direction of the office at the rear of the store.
Emma’s eyes lit up as she appeared, carrying three coffee mugs. “Good morning, Jenny.”
“Good morning, Emma. That coffee sure smells good.”
“Well, let’s just get some of it in your tummy.” As she spoke, Emma set two of the mugs down on a small table near the stove and poured the other one full of coffee. She handed the mug to Jenny. “Here, honey. Sip on this. It’ll warm you up on the inside while the stove thaws you on the outside. I’ll be right back. Zack wants some coffee too.”
“Oh yes! Thank you, Emma. This will have me thawed out in a minute.” Jenny sipped gratefully as she watched Emma fill a mug for her husband and hurry away. She set the cup down, took off her coat and scarf, and carried them to the pegs on the wall behind the counter. She straightened the heavy sweater that she had worn under her coat and welcomed the warmth it gave her.
Emma was back shortly, and when she returned, Jenny was at the stove again, sipping her coffee. “This sure hits the spot.”
“I’m having some right now, myself.” Emma filled her own mug, then the two women discussed President Lincoln’s latest comments about the soon end of the War. They drained their mugs just in time to open the store. Jenny went to the window, flipped the closed sign to the other side, and in less than two minutes, customers were filing in.
At midmorning Jenny was at the counter alone, waiting on a customer, when she saw the door open and two young women come in. Laura Denton and Shirley Atwood were in her high school graduating class. She liked both of them, but was a bit cautious of them because they were born-again Christians and talked a lot about Jesus Christ, the Bible, and their church.
Jenny looked past her customer and smiled. “Hello, Laura. Hello, Shirley. Nice to see you.”
Smiling back, both young women greeted her warmly, unbuttoned their coats, and headed toward the long rows of shelves to find the items they had come to purchase.
Jenny finished with her customer and another came to the counter, carrying groceries in a hand basket. She had just finished with that person when Laura and Shirley approached the counter with their goods.
“Some snow we got, huh?” said Jenny.
“Enough,” said Shirley with a giggle.
Jenny totaled the bills separately, and when they had paid her, she began bagging the items. While she was doing so, she and the girls talked about the War and President Lincoln’s messages with the prediction that the Confederacy would surrender within a few months.
Jenny filled the final paper bag, and with a trace of sadness in her eyes, she slid it toward Laura. “I’m glad your fathers weren’t allowed in the army when the War broke out. It’s really difficult having my father in the War, with no way of communication. Mama is having serious depression problems with him gone, not knowing whether he is dead or alive. It’s pretty rough on me too. I’m so worried that Papa may never come home, and that Mama is going to completely lose her mind if he doesn’t.”
Laura reached across the counter and squeezed Jenny’s hand. “My heart goes out to you with this load on your shoulders, Jenny. I’m sure your mother’s depression problem is having an awful effect on you, let alone the load you carry about your father being in danger on some battlefield in the South.”
Jenny’s lower lip quivered. “It’s pretty hard.”
“We’re so sorry, Jenny,” said Shirley, leaning close and patting her other hand. “I wish this didn’t have to be.”
Laura squeezed Jenny’s hand again. “Honey, if you and your mother had Jesus in your hearts and lives, He would give you peace and comfort that no one else can.”
Shirley nodded. “That peace and comfort would not only be yours concerning your father’s state in the War, but concerning your own eternal destiny. We love you and your mother, but it’s heaven or hell, Jenny, depending on what you do with Jesus Christ. He is the only one who can cleanse your sins, forgive them, and give you a place in heaven. If you will open your heart to Him, you’ll be in heaven forever. But if you don’t, it’s eternity in hell.”
“The reason you can’t see it is because Satan has you blinded. The Bible says so. Shirley and I have given you the gospel over and over. If you would just let the gospel light shine into your spiritual darkness, you would see it and be saved. Both of us had to do this, as has every person who has become a child of God by the new birth. Every human being comes into the world blinded spiritually by the devil. If you would believe the gospel and open your heart to Jesus, you would have God’s guarantee of heaven when you die, and while going through life here on earth, you would have God’s peace that passes all understanding.”
Jenny noted that other customers were standing in line for service.
She looked past Laura and Shirley, then smiled weakly. “Thanks for shopping here, ladies. It was nice to see you.”
Laura and Shirley exchanged glances, picked up their packages, and stepped aside. “We’ll be praying for you, honey,” Laura said.
“We sure will,” Shirley assured her.
Jenny afforded them another faint smile, then started adding up the bill for the next customer.
On Tuesday morning, February 5, at Andersonville Prison Camp, Sergeant Dan Tyler was at the gate in conversation with the two guards in the tower when they saw an army unit coming toward them from the north. The Confederate flag they were carrying was flapping in the breeze.
“Who do you suppose that is?” said Corporal Alan Fleming, focusing on the ten men on horseback.
“Looks like the kind of unit that makes up an escort for an important military leader,” said Corporal Jerry Weston.
Dan Tyler nodded. “We’ll soon find out. I’ll wait. If it’s somebody who wants to see the captain, I’ll escort them to his cabin.”
Moments later, the riders drew up to the gate. Alan Fleming said from the side of his mouth, “From the insignias on the shoulders of the man on the gray roan, he’s a general.”