The door to the jail opened, and two guards flanking Peter, who was shackled with leg chains and wrist cuffs, walked forward. I noticed the guards, in a fit of unkind humor, walked quickly, causing Peter to try and keep up with his manacled legs. He stumbled once, and the guard on the left used the butt of his rifle to dig viciously into Peter's ribs. Kipp drew slowly to his feet, his eyes taking on that primal, intimidating expression that was an attention getter. Thorpe noticed Kipp's actions, as did Murphy, who took a step back.
"Tell the guards to not be rough with the prisoner," Thorpe ordered, nodding at his sergeant, who trotted over to the trio. The guard who'd hurt Peter, looked up and his face paled as he saw Thorpe, who looked a little like a king on a throne, staring back.
"Watch yourself, Kipp," I said, cautioning my partner. "It's about to end, and we don't want to complicate matters."
Kipp's sides heaved as he took a deep breath to settle his anger. Elani stood, too, and nosed him softly, her face close to his.
Peter finally arrived, and the two guards backed away from him. I noticed, as did Thorpe, that his face had acquired an additional bruise, and he was favoring his side, leaning slightly, where the guard had dug into his ribs. Peter's dark eyes met mine as he tried to smile.
"Had a rough night yesterday," he said, telepathically, so the humans would not hear. "They put someone new in the cage with me, and he wanted my piece of cornbread."
"Did he get it?" I asked, smiling back.
"No, but it cost me. I think I have a loose tooth," he replied.
"That's what dentists are for. We'll get you fixed up at home," I promised.
"And I think I picked up head lice," he added, miserably.
"Then I won't be touching you... not even a hug. Do you still want to travel?" I asked.
"More than ever," he replied, his eyes shining from the dirty mask of his face. "It's been fascinating."
It was an odd hearing. The only witnesses were Peter, Murphy and me. Of course, Kipp and Elani were, too, but their testimony was not required. I realized from the tone of Thorpe's queries, he believed our stories and that he was planning on granting Peter absolution. But it was his style to drag out the proceedings and make it appear as if he was doing all of us a big, stinking favor, even when he privately thought Peter was innocent. So we waited in the small grove of trees; there was no wind that day and all was still except for one horse who kept restlessly shifting from where he was tethered with the other string of horses.
The shackles and irons clanked loudly as they were unlocked and removed from Peter's wrists and ankles. Elani leapt forward, rearing up to place her paws on his chest, licking his face frantically. I realized he was about to cry but managed to keep control. Thorpe smiled, pleased over the response to this, the ultimate gift. As we walked away, Murphy stayed behind to speak to Thorpe. Peter looked back, once, at the jail.
"Didn't care for that part of the journey," he remarked. "Actually, the Yankee raiders on board the General were very nice to me. They just wouldn't let me go earlier because they thought I'd talk, and up until almost the end, they believed they could make it through to Chattanooga."
I handed him the flour sack and waited, expectantly, for him to look inside. His grandfather's watch was safe, intact and back in his possession again. We heard rushed footsteps and turned to see Murphy running to catch up with us.
"On behalf of the W&ARR, I am authorized to offer you both a trip to Dalton, which, I recall, was your original destination. We are taking a special club car from Atlanta north on this line, and you and your doggies can ride in comfort and privacy." Murphy smiled broadly, his hat in hand as he spoke.
Peter looked at me, his eyes begging for my approval. I knew the lupines wanted to go, too. Personally, I was looking forward to the trip home and a good, hot bath. But with three pairs of pleading, brown eyes cast in my direction, what could I say?
"We need to get cleaned up and purchase some decent clothes, I think," I replied mildly.
The train would leave at four the next morning. It was not yet noon, so we had time to make some minimal preparations. After parting from Murphy, we walked back towards Lloyd Street where the Washington Hall hotel was located, intending to stay there again, since the management appeared to have pet friendly policies—if the bribe was right. There were a number of general mercantile stores, so our plan was to buy readymade outfits for the next day. Before we entered the first establishment, I took Peter into an alley and carefully inspected his thick hair, my fingers combing through the mass gingerly.
"I don't see anything crawling," I remarked, "but we'll buy some lye soap, and I'll take you into the water closet at the hotel and scrub your scalp 'til you beg for mercy." Mentally, I ticked off a comb and soap in addition to basic clothing.
Peter assured me, his face bright pink, that he was capable of cleaning his hair and would not need my services as shampoo technician. As the bell over the door of the dry goods store tinkled at our entry, a hopeful clerk looked up from the counter; a worn down pencil gripped between lead darkened fingers indicated he was working on accounts. His happy face changed to one that was more guarded, given our terrible, ragged appearances. Even more so, he frowned at what he thought to be dogs. Kipp and Elani, not wanted to be evicted, lay immediately by the door, curling up into unobtrusive balls.
"May I help you?" the clerk drawled, trying not to sneer. The lenses of his glasses were as thick and opaque as the bottom of Coca Cola bottles; his forehead, which was high and broad due to a receding hairline, puckered into deep furrows as he stared at us.
"We have been in a bit of an accident and are here from out of town," Peter began. He had a naturally pleasant, beguiling manner, and his polite tone helped the clerk to assume a more helpful attitude. "I need a new set of clothes, while my sister here," he said, gesturing at me, "needs a dress and all the, uh, accoutrements."
"Don't forget the lye soap and a comb," Kipp called out, helpfully.
If I'd had time, I would have spent hours wandering through the store, gazing at the shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. Places such as that no longer exist... where one could buy hair pomade, a can of peaches, fifty pounds of flour, shoes, undergarments, a hunk of cheese accompanied by saltine crackers and a pickle served on a piece of wax paper, and leave wearing a new hat and new shoes. What an efficient concept, I thought. Yes, there were modern superstores where once could shop for hours for most items, but these little general stores were brutally efficient, selling the necessities of life in a concise package. Kipp, following in my brain as always, demanded I buy him a can of peaches, since he'd never tasted such a delight.
"Then we'll have to buy a knife for opening the can," I whined in response.
"Hey, are we coming back anytime soon? Don't be so cheap," Kipp chided me.
The clerk, after he moved past his distaste for our unsavory appearances, decided that a sale is, after all, a sale. So, after a short time of perusing, we eventually left with arms full of packages. We were so filthy, especially Peter, that we didn't try on our new things before purchasing but weren't particularly worried about exact fits. I confess, I self-indulged and purchased a pretty little bonnet to perch upon my head. In addition to the lye soap for Peter, I bought a cake of finely milled lavender scented soap just because I was female and wanted to smell nice.
Upon our return to the Washington Hall hotel, we explained our dilemma to the day shift clerk who was much more accommodating than the sour faced, greedy night shift fellow. He arranged for the water tank to be filled and heated in the small room adjacent to the water closet so that we both could have baths. I planned on combing out the lupines, who thankfully were not considered attractive bait for lice or fleas, while waiting on Peter. We'd purchased some cheese, biscuits, crackers and fresh fruit–as well as Kipp's can of peaches—so as I worked, the lupines snacked. A small mountain of fur was accumulating as I finished with Elani, her dark eyes closed in pleasure as the comb dug through her
thick fur to scratch her skin.
"Mmmm," she muttered. That happy sound stopped when I took a damp wash cloth so that I could clean her ears. Kipp watched, his back slightly arched, lips drawn back from teeth, knowing his turn was coming. The door to my room opened, and Peter walked in, refreshed, clean, and wearing his new clothes.
"I'm ready to go again on another time shift," he pronounced.
"And I'm gonna need a few weeks of rest," I replied.
"Oh, come on. It wasn't that bad, was it?" he asked.
"We'll hold that discussion until I've had my bath."
The hot water on my scalp felt good, and I scrubbed my hair until it squeaked. Then, with a towel wrapped turban style around my head, I tippy toed down the hallway, hoping I wouldn't get caught dishabille in the thick dressing gown I'd purchased. Women's clothes were not particularly comfortable, and I had no plans to sit around all day in a dress that bunched up around my waist. Peter and the lupines were finishing off the food we'd purchased.
"Okay, we do need to talk before we go home," I began, taking time to review my thoughts. Sitting on the floor, I beckoned for Kipp to approach for his turn at grooming. "What went right and what went wrong with this time shift?" I asked, raising my eyebrows as I caught the attention of both Elani and Peter.
"Well, our timing and arrival was flawless," Elani began. "Peter's review of the history was spot on and his recall of details was perfect."
"I agree," I replied. Kipp stayed silent, his thoughts guarded. His eyes closed as he leaned towards me so that I could get to a particularly itchy place with the comb.
Peter's face began to redden as he sat silently, looking at the wall, which was covered in some outdated, faded wallpaper that mimicked bunches of tiny roses scattered haphazardly upon a green field. Looking down, he crumbled a biscuit that was half eaten, making a little mountain of crumbs on a napkin.
"Your impulsivity, Peter, almost got all of us in serious trouble," I began. "In fact, it did get us all in serious trouble, no ifs about it."
"I thought you told me you've done stupid stuff before, too," he replied, his face looking defensive and a smidge pouty.
"Yes, that's true. And every time I have, I had to face up to it, usually with Fitzhugh or Philo or someone else who cared, chewing off my butt over that episode." Leaning forward, I reached out and touched his arm. "This is how we learn. Peter, you messed up royally and could have left Elani stranded forever in this time with no way to escape. You have to think beyond yourself."
"So, are you going to tell Fitzhugh and the others?" Peter asked. His dark eyes met mine as a spark of hope ignited.
"No, I'm not. But you will," I replied. "If you can't face up to your mistakes, then you don't need to travel."
I looked down at Kipp, who was lying in patch of bright sun light thrown carelessly upon the floor as the afternoon stretched on. His eyes were half closed, his thoughts hidden from me as he pretended to be a statue. But I knew his mind was busy working, and if he disapproved of my words, he'd be all over my brain, flooding me with his opinions.
Maybe I was finally growing up, I thought. I'd been accused of being careless, short-sighted and one to break all the rules. And here I was with Peter, sounding like a grounded, old sage of my species.
"It's having to take responsibility for training him and Elani that did it," Kipp remarked privately to me. "I feel that way, too. Suddenly, it's bigger than the two of us."
"Glad you're back, buddy," I replied in our covert manner of speech to one another. "Am I too harsh?"
"No, let's see. Peter jumped on a train and was abducted. We chased him for miles and miles, putting ourselves at risk. Then, you were accosted by armed highwaymen, fell into a river and almost drowned. There's more, but that is enough for now. His behavior put you in danger, so I think you are within your rights to let him know about it."
I knew that Elani forgave Peter. She, too, was young and learning and recognized his eagerness and enthusiasm had taken over the judgment needed. She'd travel again with him, anytime, anywhere.
"We will only tell Fitzhugh," I said, sighing, "and trust him on what to formally share with the Twelve." That was a compromise on my part, but I'd done the same before and didn't want to set a totally different standard with Peter.
Finally, Peter managed a wan smile and nodded. Elani was next to him, her head in his lap. His fingers, bruised and stiff, combed her fur. The cuffs of his shirt pulled back to reveal the dark, purple bruises on his wrists from the manacles. The black eye someone had given him over a piece of cornbread was still vivid.
"Your mama's gonna ask about that eye," I pointed out.
"I may tell her you hit me," he responded, laughing softly.
"And I may tell her you deserved it," I replied.
Kipp twisted his big head to look at me. "Do you have to clean my ears? I don't' think they are really that dirty."
In reply, I held up a damp washcloth.
Chapter 26
I'll always remember that club car; I'd been on many train rides but never in a conveyance so finely apportioned. The windows, which ran down the side of the car, were adorned with velvet curtains, draped in a swag fashion. Along the edges of the velvet, which was a deep, burgundy shade of red, were little silky tassels that swayed as the car moved. Instead of the crush of passenger seats designed to maximize the number of people transported at any one time, there were a couple of circular tables with chairs as well as a couple of scattered, plush window seats. A large mahogany bar, with ornate, carved wood obviously done by a master craftsman, almost covered one end of the car, while a wood burning stove sat idle at the other.
Peter's mouth dropped open, slack, as he glanced around. In his imagination, he could not have conceived of riding in a club car pulled by the General. He glanced at me, and I knew his thoughts; I, too, was glad we'd purchased some halfway decent clothes. Murphy stood back, hat in hand, enjoying the expressions on our faces. The lupines showed their appreciation by frantically wagging their brushy tails.
"So, Mr. Murphy, how did you finagle this?" I asked, smiling up at him.
"Ah, what's the good of having strings if you can't pull 'em once in a while," he answered, his face reddening slightly. The words held the pleasant lilt and cadence of his ancestry.
I was personally saddened that he couldn't ride with us, and as he walked away, I had the satisfaction of knowing we'd made another friend. And, unless there was something I didn't know, we'd not changed the arc of history, except to leave a few memories of our having been present. Maybe Murphy would tell his grandchildren of the ride on the pole car accompanied by a woman dressed as a man and two extremely large dogs.
Peter began to explore and quickly found a carafe of coffee on the mahogany bar next to a plate of delicate iced cakes that were lightly dusted with powdered sugar. I heard the sharp, steam whistle of the General reverberate in the confines of the Car Shed; a moment later, the brakes were released and the train began to roll out of the chaotic terminal building into the early morning darkness. I took a seat at the window and waited; Peter brought me a cup of black coffee and sat opposite me. From a little different viewpoint than a dirty boxcar, with cinders and soot blowing in our faces, we observed–in lavish comfort—the skyline of Atlanta, which was shrouded in threads of gray. The smoke from early morning fires threw a hazy cast to the lantern lit streets. The lupines decided to recline on a large circular, braided woolen rug, leaving us to fill their minds with the images we saw.
"Riding in the boxcar was okay," Peter said, "but this is infinitely better." Leaning forward, he lowered a window so that a rush of fresh air entered the car. I could smell freshly turned earth, the result of some farmer's labor. The fragrance of dark, moist loam was almost grounding, comforting in a basic, elemental way.
I closed my eyes as the car swayed gently along the tracks. In my mind, I replayed what I'd seen before. Small farmsteads dotted the landscape; lights glowed from within homes, indicating habitatio
n and purpose. My hand drew to my neck, and I pulled the pearls free from beneath the high collar of my dress. Like beads meant to soothe the soul, I felt each one in sequence, searching, with my sensitive finger tips, for tiny flaws or imperfections and finding none in my cursory inspection. Opening my eyes, I saw Peter, his head tilted slightly to the side, watching me with curiosity written on his expressive face.
"How long will you miss him?" he asked.
"Always, I think," I replied with a sigh. "But this trip was good for me. I needed focus and to redirect my energies for a while."
He became quiet; even without using my telepathy, I knew he was wondering if he would ever have those type of romantic feelings for another. Given his youth, Peter was full of career energy and only could focus on traveling. But life for humans and symbionts involves more than just work, and perhaps he was thinking ahead to the next stage of his predictably long life.
"Tell me more about the pole car," Peter begged, in a not too subtle ploy to change the tone.
As we rumbled past Vinings and Marietta, I gave a humorous account of the harrowing pole car ride; Kipp and Elani chimed in for good measure. It seemed we'd just left the Car Shed when we began the climb up a gradually steepening hill before the sound of the steam whistle broke the early morning quiet to signify the stop at Big Shanty, the place where our grand adventure had gone awry. The white hotel with the green shutters was unchanged, as was the stream of passengers leaving the train to have breakfast. Peter and I left the club car last and were delighted to see Jefferson Cain back in service as engineer. He smiled broadly and pulled off his cloth cap.
"Good to see you in one piece again, young miss," he said. Clapping his hands, he leaned forward as a human would do and welcomed the lupines with vigorous pats and side thumping. Watching, I recalled he loved dogs.
"Not sure why humans think dogs want to have their sides pummeled, but whatever, I guess," Kipp muttered, looking up at me.
The Great Locomotive Chase, 1862 Page 27