As I lay in our tent that night, the muggy air hung humid and heavy, pressing down on me so that I could scarcely take a breath. Rivers of sweat ran down my hot skin, soaking my loose fitting, neck-to-ankles underclothes that I’d stripped down to for sleeping. Not that I could sleep. I tossed and turned, trying to find a bit of comfort in the closed up crypt of a tent. A few mosquitoes managed to sneak in, whining in my ear and taking juicy bites of my blood. I swatted at them, remembering a nearby army had reported an outbreak of malaria. With a tremendous sigh, I flopped over once again, accidentally kicking Toby.
“If you don’t quit wiggling,” came a gruff, sleep-scratchy voice, “I’m gonna hand you over to the Rebs myself!”
“Sorry, Toby. I just can’t get comfortable with this blooming heat! How can you southerners put up with this heat and humidity?”
“The weather grows on you, kind of like the mold taking root behind your ears.”
“What?” I quickly sat up, rubbing hard at my neck.
“I’m just kidding, Bobbi.”
I glared at him as I eased back down on my sweat-soaked bedroll. I tried to lay quiet, tried counting sheep, but the thought of all that fluffy wool leaping over fences made the air feel hotter. I propped myself up on my elbow and nudged Toby with my foot.
“No, really, how do you cope? How can you sleep in this sauna?”
Toby sighed, prying open an eyelid. “I don’t know; how do you crazy northerners survive those winters up there on Lake Superior?”
“Why don’t you come up and find out? Then we’ll see who’s so tough.”
“Well I’m kind of in the middle of fighting for my country at the moment. Maybe next week.” Toby rolled over, turning his back on me. “Go to sleep, Bobbi.”
But my mind had taken off and I knew I’d never be able to slow my racing thoughts down for the night. And if I couldn’t sleep, why should Toby? “Actually, that would be a great idea, you coming up to Marquette with me. You could meet my little brother and Gran and Emma! I mean, when the war is over, of course.” I pushed aside the fact that everyone in Marquette knew my true female form. There’d be no way I could continue my masquerade then. How would Toby take the truth, finding out that I wasn’t a guy, that I’d lied to him, deceived him? The possibilities scared me too much to even think about them.
Toby heaved an impatient sigh and rolled back over to face me in the darkness. He considered me for a moment, and then cracked a wry grin. “Sure, why not? I’ve got no where else to go; it’s not like I can return to Texas. The family probably has roadblocks set up at the state border.” He paused, as if considering that scenario not so unlikely after all. “Anyway, what’s there to do for fun up in the U.P.?”
I guessed he’d given up on sleep, too, condemned to talk with me instead. Gratefully, I delved into one of my favorite topics. “The U.P. is the best place in the world! The forests stretch on forever with miles and miles to explore. There’s black bears, wolves, porcupines, bald eagles, and bobcats to discover and watch. A tribe of Ojibwa Indians lives nearby…did I ever tell you how Emma’s nasty cousin came to town and almost lost his scalp? Emma’s ma rescued him, and the Indians call her ‘Mother of the Light’ on account of her being the lighthouse keeper and all. Then there’s Lake Superior. You’ve never seen another body of water like that one! Her waters are clean and clear, stretching all the way to Canada! Sometimes she lays as blue and smooth as a robin’s egg and other times she bashes and dashes about like she’s dancing for joy! There’s this special cove my brothers and I discovered, with a soft, warm sand, perfect for fishing and swimming. Of course, we can’t step foot in the water until at least the first of July; it’s just way too cold, painfully cold from the ice-bound winters…”
“Go on,” Toby urged. “Tell me more about this intriguing U.P. of yours. I’ve heard stories of mosquitoes the size of song birds, and ticks so thick that a walk in the woods results in finding a hundred of the buggers crawling your skin—”
“Swimming! Toby, let’s go swimming! That’ll cool us off just perfectly, and there’s a river conveniently right over yonder!”
“Bobbi, it’s the middle of the night—”
“So what? Toby, I’m going nuts here! And a cool dip will help me sleep. What do you say?”
He considered the idea for a moment. “Well, you are starting to smell a little gamey…”
“Hey, catch a whiff of yourself lately? Come on, let’s go!”
I didn’t bother dressing, I just pulled on my boots and crawled out of our canvas oven with Toby right behind me. We skirted camp, avoiding the guards and the horse corals, running a good half mile before finding a quiet, secluded bank of the James River. The moon, full and glowing, reflected on the river’s dark surface, the current gently lapping at the bank. I quickly found a stump and sat down to remove my boots. When I glanced up, my heart caught in my throat. “What are you doing?” I forced the question to try and sound somewhat laid-back.
“I’m stripping down to go swimming, what else?” he said, starting to pull off his underclothes.
I thought about what I had on beneath my underclothes, a width of cloth binding my breasts and nothing else. I swallowed the flash of fear, feigning casualness. “Oh, not me. Kill two birds with one stone and all that; I’m gonna rinse these out at the same time.” I quickly dove into the river, underclothes and all, hiding my blazing cheeks.
The cool water welcomed me, enveloping me in soothing arms. I felt the heat flow away from my body, carried downstream by the current. I swam underwater until my lungs about burst, and then broke the surface, gulping in air. I turned back to the shore and felt relief at finding Toby in the river, still buttoned up in his under britches as well. The river offered the perfect depth; I had my feet wiggled down in the cold, gooey mud with plenty of room to break the surface for air. I just stood there, letting the river flow around me, rinsing off the dirt, sweat, heat and nightmares of the past days. I watched as Toby dove beneath the surface, and then searched the shadowed tree branches on the shoreline for the elusive barn owl calling to his mate.
There! The beautiful owl took flight in a silent flutter of feathers, flying directly overhead to meet his girlfriend on the south shore
Without warning, an unseen force grabbed me around my waist and dragged me under! I caught a mouthful of water on the way down, and choking and gagging for air, I pushed off the mucky bottom, twisted around and slugged my attacker as hard as I could in an underwater punch. Immediately released, I aimed for the surface, ready for a fight.
Coughing and hacking up river water, I blinked to clear my eyes and raised my fists up for battle. Aiming on the bubbles a few feet from me, I got ready to pounce …and then Toby surfaced, sputtering and clutching his nose.
“What the heck did you go and do that for?” he barked.
Oops. “Oh, Toby, I’m sorry. Instinct kind of kicked in—”
“Instinct?” He pulled his hand away, revealing blood, black and ominous in the moonlight, dripping down his chin. “Let me guess, your brother taught you how to fight, too.”
“Of course. But in my defense, why’d ya grab me under for?”
“Just fooling around, trying to have some fun and forget about violence for a few minutes.
“Oh.” Part of me felt bad for bloodying his nose, but really, what could he expect? Still…
“Let me get this straight,” I began, coming in closer to examine his injury. “You were joking around and someone got hurt. Well, you’re lucky this time, your nose doesn’t appear to be broken and I think you’ll live. But now you must pay!” I jumped up and pushed him under with all of my strength and weight. Then I took off for shore with strong, even strokes, just like Robert had taught me. But Toby, faster and stronger, quickly caught up and grabbed a hold of my ankle. I flipped on to my back and kicked with my free foot, splashing him in the face. He caught my other ankle in a lucky grab and yanked both of them straight up into the air, pulling my head under. River wa
ter surged up my nose. Snorting and wiggling, I managed to dislodge both the water and Toby’s grip. Without resurfacing, despite my lungs screaming for air, I spun around and did the same to Toby, yanking his feet out from under him. I broke the surface, sputtering, laughing, planning my next attack.
“You two, in the water! Hands above your head!”
“Busted,” Toby whispered to me with a grin.
“Come out of there, and keep your hands where I can see them!”
I followed Toby to shore, slipping and sliding in the mud, awkward with my hands held skyward.
“Right there’s far enough, and wipe those grins off your faces!” Standing knee deep in the James, the moonlight reflecting off of the water shed enough light on the blue-clad soldier to know he meant business. Plus he had a rifle aimed at our chests.
“Identify yourselves!”
“Private Toby Dove, 9th Corps, 3rd Division, 27th Infantry—”
“Do you really expect me to believe you’re with the Union Army with that accent?”
I’d become so accustomed to Toby’s voice that I didn’t even notice his Texas accent anymore. I jumped in to help. “Yes sir, we’re both in the Army of the Pot—”
“Keep your mouth shut, both of you! I’m taking you in. And let me tell you, we don’t take kindly to southern spies these days. March!”
Captain Truckey leaned back in his chair. Hard, cold eyes glared down his nose, boring into us. He slowly shook his head back and forth, the lantern throwing his face into harsh shadows. Shifting uneasily from foot to foot, I tried to avoid the force of his eyes. The seconds ticked on to eternity, and still the captain hadn’t said a single word, though his glare shouted volumes. And when he did finally begin to speak, I longed to return back to the awkward silence.
“So you two decided to take a swim…in the middle of the night…smack dab in the middle of a bloody war,” his voice slowly gained momentum. “Don’t you know you could have been killed? Rebel soldiers are swarming the area, and you two are just plain lucky that one of our own guards discovered your antics before a Rebel shot you on sight, or worse, carted you off to a southern prison hellhole. What can you possibly say for your defense?”
Since the entire harebrained idea for a swim originated with me, I figured I ought to say something. I hesitantly cleared my throat. “Captain, sir, I couldn’t sleep ‘cause of the heat—”
Toby jabbed an elbow into my ribs and shot me a warning glare.
Oh. Rhetorical question.
“You were hot? You couldn’t sleep?” Captain Truckey rose slowly from his chair and rounded his desk, like a mountain lion stalking his prey. “What do you think this is, some kind of summer holiday? We’re in the middle of a bloody war! Sometimes, on occasion, soldiers suffer a bit of discomfort!”
He paced slowly around us. I could feel the hot breath of his angry words burning my skin, and I had to force myself to stand tall without flinching.
“I’d almost swear that you two have caused me more trouble than General Lee himself! Obviously, your latrine digging punishments haven’t had much of an impact. I’m tempted to toss you out of the army altogether—”
“Sir, no!”
He held up a hand to cut off my protest. “However, we are desperate for live bodies, no matter how much trouble you cause. And to top this ridiculous night off, you’re dripping on my floor!”
I glanced down to find a puddled mess, and I self-consciously dug my bare toes into the mud we’d created on his dirt floor. The guard had refused to allow us to claim our boots by the river, marching us back to camp barefoot. Then I caught sight of my wet underclothes clinging to my body, revealing far too much. My heart skidded to a painful stop. Had anybody noticed? I quickly crossed my arms over my chest. I dared a quick glance to Toby’s face and then jerked over to Captain Truckey. They didn’t appear to have noticed, but I couldn’t risk standing there one more second. I had to g—
A guard burst through the tent flaps behind us.
“Begging your pardon for intruding, sir, but we have a situation.”
“What is the problem, Lieutenant?”
“It’s Nurse Davis. She’s been assaulted!”
Without waiting for an official dismissal from Captain Truckey, I pushed past the lieutenant and bolted from the tent. The captain and Toby followed on my heels, keeping pace with my race through the dark camp.
Thoughts ricocheted through my mind. Was she hurt? Was she dead? Who did this? And why? I knew none of my questions would be answered until I reached my friend’s side. I plowed through a couple of guards, knocking one roughly to the ground.
“Hey, watch where you’re going!”
“Why don’t you start doing your job,” I barked over my shoulder. Where had the guards been during the attack? And for that matter, where had I been? Fooling around in the river. I knew she’d been more vulnerable since her pa died. Not that she would ever admit the fact. Why hadn’t I protected her? Guilt added to my urgency. Sharp stones and firewood splinters dug into my bare feet, but I hardly noticed. I zeroed in on the lantern light up ahead like a fluttery moth.
I flung aside the tent flap, shoved the waiting guard out of my way and knelt by Cora’s side. She sat at her desk, back straight and shoulders set. But I could see a hint of tears in her eyes. Mud stained her nightgown, and the shoulder hung open, ripped at the seam. A dark purple bruise darkened one delicate cheekbone.
“Cora?”
I hesitated to touch her for fear of causing more pain, but she grabbed hold of my hand as soon as I knelt beside her. A smile did appear, though wobbly and unsure.
“I’m okay, Bobbi.”
I glanced over at Toby who squatted down on her other side.
“How bad are you hurt?” he asked, gently brushing her bruised cheek with his fingertips.
Cora flinched slightly, but then nodded her head. “I’m fine, really.”
“What happened?” Captain Truckey demanded, squaring off in front of her.
Cora took a deep breath before answering. “I was asleep on my cot. Something woke me up, a noise I think. Before I could light my lantern, someone clamped his hand over my mouth and pulled me to the ground. I fought back,” she said to me as if looking for approval. “I got in a few good kicks, one of which knocked him down, doubled over, groaning. I scrambled back to my cot and pulled out the pistol I keep under my pillow.”
Cora keeps a pistol under her pillow? Maybe she didn’t need protecting after all.
“I pointed the barrel towards the moaning, and quickly lit the lamp. I recognized him at once. I don’t know if that’s why he said those words or not.”
“Said what?” I asked Cora.
“He whispered ‘I’m so sorry’ and then slipped from my tent.”
Anger had slowly been building up behind my worry and guilt, and at that, the powder keg burst, burning every fiber of my bones like a white-hot flame. Jimmy. It had to be Jimmy. “I’m gonna kill him,” I spit.
“What? Who?” Toby jumped up beside me.
“Jimmy will pay!”
“No, Bobbi, wait!”
Cora’s words trailed after me as I bolted from her tent, but I barely heard. Jimmy had broken his word; he said he’d leave Cora alone. Now he would have to deal with me. Now he would see how a victim felt on the other side of a fist!
The sun began climbing over the horizon, lighting my determined path through the sleeping camp. I vaguely heard Toby and Cora’s protests behind me, but I plowed though the scattered tents with my thoughts targeted on Jimmy.
I found his bare, dirty feet sticking out the end of his tent. I clamped a hold and dragged him out, yelling “Get out here, you piece of human waste! How dare you!”
“What the,” he sputtered, struggling to his feet and brushing his greasy hair out of his sleep-crusted eyes. “Rivers! What’s your problem? Get off of me!”
“You attacked Cora!” I yelled.
“Attacked Cora? I didn’t! I didn’t touch her.”<
br />
“Liar!” I lunged at Jimmy, plowing him back to the ground. I hammered my fists into his stomach, his chest, his face. Jimmy defended the attack and a blow caught my eye, but the pain barely registered, my anger flowed so thick.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized that my fists attacked not only Jimmy, the bully, but also my pa, for hurting my ma for so long, and the Rebels who had killed Kenny and kept my brother from me. I pounded all of those people with my one insane attack.
Then someone grabbed me around the waste and yanked me off of Jimmy.
“Bobbi, stop!” Toby pinned my arms to my sides as I continued to struggle.
“Bobbi,” Cora’s soft voice filtered through the rage. “Jimmy didn’t attack me.”
“What?” I asked, gasping for breath as I jerked around to look at her.
“I said, Jimmy hasn’t laid a finger on me.”
I suddenly collapsed against Toby’s chest, too tired to struggle anymore. “Then who?”
“Preacher.”
On June 14th, as the 2nd Corps crossed the James River on transport boats at Wilcox’s Landing, guards scoured the surrounding countryside for Preacher. But as night began to embrace the camp, they returned empty handed; Preacher had disappeared. Searching his belongings, they did discover a bottle of liquor and a Bible hidden away in Preacher’s tent… a bottle and Bible that matched the descriptions of the ones stolen from the sutlers.
Though extremely painful, I managed to apologize to Jimmy. He surprisingly accepted my apology, though he threw in a menacing threat to stay out of his way or else. The throbbing, swollen black eye displayed on my face served as a painful reminder to do just that, and I avoided Jimmy and his gang with unerring precision.
Everyone who’d known Preacher wandered around in a bit of a fog. Shocked and feeling confused, hurt and betrayed, no one knew quite how to react, and whispered rumors circulated the camp.
Echoes of Dark and Light Page 22