by J. R. Ayers
“The war’s over?”
“Been over for a month,” the colonel said.
“So we fought them Yankees yesterday for nothing then?”
“Look’s that way, Corporal. You men might as well go on back to camp. We’ll get the discharge procedure going post haste.”
The colonel rode off and Jack and Campbell looked at each other in disbelief as the realization that the battle at Palmito Ranch had been the last official battle of the American Civil War.
Chapter 39
Marie had a hard time believing that the war was over and Jack would be a civilian soon and they could have their baby and move somewhere far away from the memory of blood and war and misery and live happily thereafter. They were in the lobby of a rooming house on Lyon Street negotiating the price for a month’s stay. Jack thought the two rooms would be fine, but Marie, thinking of the baby wished for more comfortable accommodations. Jack held firm, however and paid for the room for a month with U.S. script. A young black boy took Marie’s cases and Jack’s haversack up to the suite and waited patiently for Marie to enter. She was not a happy woman.
“I don’t like it, Jack.”
“Do we have to argue about it now?”
“Give the boy some money, please.”
Jack passed the young man a quarter and he smiled broadly and closed the door behind him when he left.
“The green carpet’s nice,” Jack said with a conciliatory tone. “And the mirrors are very attractive too.”
“I don’t know how a room like this would be for the baby. It will be strange waking up in the morning with all this mirrored glass.”
“But it’s really a fine room, right?”
“It’ll do.”
“How are you feeling, hon? You look a little peaked.”
“I only feel hungry. I get very hungry sometimes. The baby and all.”
“You’re not going to get fat on me, are you?”
“Jack Saylor! How dare you.”
“You’re a fine simple girl,” Jack said smiling. “I’ll take you the way you are. Fat ankles and all.”
“I am a simple girl. No one has ever understood that but you. And, my ankles are not fat.”
“Once, when I first met you, I spent some time thinking how we should go to San Antonio together and walk along the river front and how nice that would be.”
“That’s awfully romantic for a ruffian like you,” she said. “Like I told you, I’m a simple girl, with simple expectations.”
“I always thought you were very complicated. And a little crazy.”
“I haven’t confused you have I, Mister Saylor?”
“That’s Sergeant Saylor. At least for another day or two.”
“Alright, Sergeant soon to be Mister Saylor, do I? Do I confuse you?”
“I was confused the moment I laid eyes on you,” Jack said. “I suppose love can be a confusing thing.”
“So, you love me do you?”
“Of course I do. I married you, didn’t I?”
“The aristocracy in Europe enter into loveless marriages all the time,” she said cocking her head thoughtfully.”
“Well, we’re not aristocrats, and we’re certainly not in Europe,” Jack said. “So I don’t see your point. I love you, Mrs. Saylor. It’s as simple as that, you simple girl.” She smiled coyly and smoothed the wrinkles from the lame bedspread.
“I suppose I shall have to get used to being married to a man who thinks I’m not only complicated, but crazy as well.”
“And beautiful.”
“Ah ha.”
“How’s the little one?” he asked. She touched her stomach briefly and said,
“She doesn’t move as much lately.”
“Is, is , that a problem? Or something?”
“No. Indigestion, I suppose. What should we name our child, Jack?” Jack shrugged and sat beside her on the bed, still a little worried about the baby in her womb.
“We should name her after your mother if it’s a girl,” he said with forced levity. “Or after your father, if it’s a boy of course.”
“My mother and father are both dead,” she said calmly.
“Oh. Sorry. My condolences.”
“What about your parents?”
“Same thing. There’s nobody left but Granny. Her name is Myrtle. Doesn’t have a very good ring to it, does it?”
“How about Jackie? Or Jacqueline?”
“Marie.”
“Jacqueline sounds nice.”
“Marie.”
“Yes my dear?”
“I’m so very happy I married you.”
On the morning of the third day after returning to Laredo Jack was formally mustered out and discharged from the Confederate States Army. The Provost Officer paid him thirty dollars mustering out pay, half in gold, and wrote him a letter of introduction and recommendation in case he wanted to look for work in the area.
Marie continued to complain about the rooms, but Jack was adamant that they stay close to the town.
“We have to be near the hospital on account of the baby.”
“I’m only six months along, Jack.”
“Doesn’t matter You said you’ve been having some pain. It’s best we stay close to the doctors.”
“But the suite, it’s so small.”
“We can put the little one in the smaller room when it comes,” Jack said.
“Which one? They’re both so small And she’s not an it.”
“Marie, I don’t want to discuss it anymore. Just please do what I say.”
“You talk to me as if I were your child.”
“No, but you are my wife.”
“I’m older than you, you know. You should respect your elders.”
“I love you. That covers everything, including respect.”
While Jack went to look for work at the rail yard, Marie went up to the suite to rest and pout for awhile. It had begun to rain again and there was a chill in the air that made her shiver, though she was dressed in a cotton dress and Jack’s thick over blouse. Nevertheless, she sat by the window and looked out on a wet rear garden with a stone wall topped by a snarl of ivy. Across the street was a dress shop with a mint green gown made of chiffon and lace prominently displayed in the front window. She sighed and stroked her swollen stomach with a dry, chilled hand. “Will I ever fit into something that beautiful again?” she said aloud.
Jack returned a short time later saying they weren’t hiring at the rail yard but he might be able to land a job over in Edinburg in the stockyards processing the horses turned over by the army. Marie, reticent and feeling blue said,
“You know what I have to get.”
“What?”
“Baby clothes. We have to have something for little Jacqueline to wear when she arrives.”
“Most women folk I ever knew made their own,” Jack said absently.
“I don’t have anything to sew with. Besides, I’m not all that domesticated.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to learn,” said Jack. “It looks like we may be moving to Edinberg.”
“Aw, Jack.”
“I thought you didn’t like it here in Laredo.”
“I don’t. But. . .”
“But what?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“Marie, don’t say but like that and then just clam up. What is it?”
“It’s just, it’s my stomach. The baby, I can’t feel her move any longer. And this morning. . .”
“What about this morning?”
“There was a little blood on my petticoat this morning,” she said refusing to meet his concerned gaze.
“What does that mean?” Jack demanded.
“Maybe nothing.”
“You need to see a doctor.”
“No, Jack. They charge a fee and we don’t have much money left. We should save it to pay the hospital when Jacqueline comes.”
“Bullshit, you’re seeing a doctor.”
“No! Will you listen to me
just once, Jack! I know my body, everything will be alright.”
“Well, you ought to know. You were a nurse.”
“Why do you want to hurt me? What have I done?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then come over to the bed.”
“All right.” He went over and sat on the bed.
“I know I’m no fun for you right now,” she said softly. “It’s just so much has happened so quickly. The baby, the war being over. You. . .you being here now. I know you must find me unattractive, I’m as big as a house. It’s all too much sometimes.”
“You’re not unattractive, Marie. You’re beautiful just the way you are.”
“But I will be thin again, I promise. When the baby comes I will work hard to become thin again.”
“You’re quite thin now,” Jack said. “Perfectly thin.”
She placed her head on his chest and he patted her back and she cried softly and her tears wet his shirt and the rain fell outside and for a moment Jack wondered if by acquiring a family for himself he hadn’t gotten in way over his head.
Chapter 40
They were at the boarding house for two weeks when the trouble started. The weather had become quite warm and it was summer- like throughout south Texas. Sometimes Marie and Jack went for rides out by the river in a carriage Jack borrowed from his landlord. It was nice to ride when the days were pleasant and a breeze played across the river bringing with it the fragrance of honeysuckle and wild mint. Marie couldn’t walk very far without resting but she loved to ride along the country roads with the sun on her face and the wind in her long flowing hair.
When the sun was high and warm and Jack was by her side the days were good for Marie. He hadn’t found steady work yet and money was tight, but they were together and she knew in her heart that everything would work out right.
Then one morning, about two o’clock, Jack woke to hear Marie stirring in bed.
“Are you all right, Marie?”
“I’ve been having some pain,” she said.
“Bad?”
“No, not very.”
“Well, if it keeps up we’ll have to get you to the hospital.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know. Go back to sleep, you look tired.”
Jack was tired and shortly went back to sleep. A little while later Marie woke him again and said,
“Maybe you’d better take me to the hospital. Something’s not right. Yes, yes, we should go now.”
Jack woke the landlord and asked to borrow his carriage and the landlord said certainly and Jack hitched up the team of horses. The night was clear and the stars were out and the moon was nearly full above the river.
Catherine looked very worried, Jack thought. She seemed in quite a bit of pain and tiny spots of blood stained the front of her dress.
“We’ll be there in a minute,” he said. “Just hang on, sweetheart, hang in there for me.”
They arrived at the hospital five minutes later and Jack carried Marie inside and called for help. There was a woman behind a desk and she leapt to her feet when she saw Marie’s sweaty face and the front of her dress.
“She in labor?” the woman asked hurriedly.
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “She’s bleeding.”
“How many months along is she?”
“I don’t know, lady, can you please get a doctor for her? I mean, damn, she’s bleeding.”
“I will take you to our birthing room,” the woman said. “Hopefully there’s a doctor still in the building.”
They went down a short hall with Jack supporting Marie’s weight on his arm and arrived at a room with two empty beds and a small table containing towels and medical instruments.
“Please undress and get into bed,” the woman said. “There’s a dressing gown on the back of the door. I’ll go fetch the doctor.”
Jack went outside and sat on a chair in the hallway while Marie changed into the dressing gown. Worry pressed down on him like a great weight. He began to second guess himself for not insisting that Marie see a doctor when the bleeding first started. You can’t mess around like that, he told himself. My fault. My fault. He bowed his head and prayed for Marie, stumbling over the words until he gave up and began cursing instead. “She’ll be alright,” he said his voice thick with emotion. “Damn to hell, she’ll be alright!”
The woman returned with a stout man with bright blue eyes and whiskers on all parts of his face except under his nose. They went into the room and a short time later the woman returned and said, “You can go in now.” Jack went right in.
“How is she?” he asked the doctor.
“Well, young man, she’s in labor,” said the doctor.
“Labor? But she’s only six and a half months along.”
“Yes, and she’s still in labor. You the father are you?”
“Yes. I’m her husband. Saylor’s the name, Jack Saylor, with a Y.”
The contractions were hitting her every five minutes like clock work. She seemed to handle them fairly well, although her face was drawn and the same color of the bed sheet.
“How you feeling?” he asked with a tight smile.
“Like I’m having a baby. Lord, Jack it’s too soon.” Her eyes filled with tears and she covered her face with her hands. He reached to hold her but she dismissed him with a shrug of her shoulder.
“You go away,” she said. “Go get something to eat. You’ll need your strength when Jacqueline makes her appearance.”
“Not hungry. I want to stay here with you.”
“Go out and get something to eat. I may be doing this for a long time the doctor says.”
“That’s right,” bright eyes said.
“The first labor is usually prolonged,” the woman added. “Your wife’s right, maybe you should go get something to eat.”
“Please, Jack, go. I’ll be fine.”
“Marie.”
“Jack, I want so to be a good wife and have this child without any problems. Now please, go get some breakfast, then come back and sit with me for awhile.”
“Mr. Saylor, you have plenty of time for breakfast,” the woman repeated. Jack wanted to argue, but he was outnumbered and tired and hungry and in no mood for petulance.
“Alright then, I’ll go,” he said squeezing Marie’s hand. “But not for too long.” He looked at the doctor. “Take good care of her sir. I’m trusting her to your care.” Then to the woman:
“Where can I get breakfast this time of morning?”
“There’s a cafe down the street near the courthouse,” she said. “It should be serving breakfast by now.”
Jack thanked her, said goodbye to Marie and walked out of the hospital. It was just beginning to break dawn as he walked down the empty street to the cafe. There was a light in the front window and he went inside and took a seat at a table by the window. There was no one else in the small room except a young Mexican woman sitting behind a counter making tortillas with a hand press. “Good morning,” she sleepily. “You want soneting to eat?”
“Yes. What have you got?”
“Yellow beans, some boiled chicken, eggs, tings like that.”
“Let me have a couple of eggs. And coffee, lots of coffee.”
She went in back to prepare the food and Jack looked out the grimy window thinking about Marie and the baby. He hoped they would be alright; there was no use in praying about it, he’d pretty much given up on God. He’d found himself reduced to relying on hope, an emotion every bit as useless and fickle as religion the way he saw it.
The woman bought the food and coffee and placed them on the table. She was very tall for a woman and very beautiful, Jack noted. Her long shiny hair reminded him of a raven’s wing. “Why are you out so early?” she asked lighting a candle in the center of the table.
“My wife, she’s in the hospital.”
“Oh? Sonetin serious?”
“Labor. I’m going to be a father.”
“Ah, buena. Congratulations, Papa.�
��
“Gracious.”
“So, enjoy your eggs. I wish you every good luck with the esposa y bebe.”
Jack felt uncomfortable with the unsolicited conversation. He ate quickly, paid for the food, and stepped out into the cool morning air. Outside along the street were the lamp lighters extinguishing the kerosene lamps in front of the courthouse. One man, his face as dark as pitch, smiled a good morning before turning up the street with his long hooked pole.
Jack arrived back to the hospital feeling very sad and extremely tired. He went straight way to Marie’s room and found it empty except for her dress and blood-stained under garments. Concerned, he went out to the hall looking for some one and found a nurse leaving a room across from Marie’s.
“Where’s Mrs. Saylor?” he asked expectantly
“They just took a lady to the surgery ward,” the nurse said. “Maybe she is the one you are looking for.”
“Surgery ward?”
“Yes, it’s down the hall to the left. Come, I will show you.”
She took Jack down to the end of the hall and pointed him to a door on the left of the hallway. The door was open and he could see Marie lying on a table, covered by a large sheet. A nurse was on one side of the table and the doctor with the sparkling eyes stood on the other side. He held a contraption in his hand that Jack was all too familiar with. The nurse saw him standing there and walked over to speak with him. “The doctor is going to administer a little ether to ease the pain,” she said half whispering. “You can go in, but don’t stay too long.”
Jack approached the bed and Marie said, “You’re back, how was breakfast?”
“Tasteless. How are you?”
“Better now that I’ve had some ether.” Jack looked at the doctor focusing on the ether cup in his hand.
“How is everything going, doctor?” he asked.
“Things are going well. We brought her in here where it’s easy to administer ether for the pain.”
“I could use a little more right now,” Marie said dreamily. The doctor placed the mask over her face and released a few drops of ether into the cotton cloth covering the wire frame.