Beneath Gray Skies

by Hugh Ashton

“When did you first realize you were a slave?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure if I ever really realized that I was a slave as such,” replied Christopher. “You have to understand that most people I knew were either white, and gave orders, or were black and took the orders. I guess I was about ten years old when I first realized that some of the black folks I saw downtown didn’t have masters. Then I wondered what was different about them. Truth to tell, I felt kind of sorry for them.”

  Virginia looked at him, with genuine wonder in her eyes. “Why in the world would you feel like that?”

  “Miss Justin who owned me was real nice to us all. She was kind, generous even. Of course we had to work for her, but she made sure we could all read and write as well as we were able, even though she wasn’t rightly supposed to be doing that. She lent us books to read and made sure we all learned something about life outside. We had to keep it all a secret, you understand.”

  “From what I’ve seen of you, she must have been a good teacher. Of course, she had a good student.” She smiled and laid her fingers lightly on his sleeve. Christopher felt something like a shock run though him.

  “Thank you,” Christopher smiled back. “When we fell sick, she’d make sure that we had all the medicines we needed, and even called in a doctor for us. So I felt sorry for those poor folks who had no-one to care for them. When I got older, I realized that I couldn’t move around or leave Miss Justin, but it was my home, and I never really wanted to leave her.”

  “So how did you feel when she actually did give you your freedom?” asked Virginia. The fingers stayed on his sleeve. Henry had told her the previous day a little about how Christopher had come to be working with him.

  “Kind of strange, I guess. Like I said, I wasn’t too happy about leaving her. I still miss her, you know. We talked together quite a lot. Sometimes we were serious, but often we would just be talking about little things. I was excited, I guess, when I left. And you know, I was shocked from what had happened, you know, the beating and all that.” Virginia’s fingers tightened a little on Christopher’s arm. “And I was real scared traveling on the railroad all the way to Richmond. They’d given me the right papers and all, but if you’ve never been to the Confederacy, and even then unless you’re black, I guess you don’t know how bad people can be sometimes. Cruel, of course, you’d expect that. But the worst thing is that they ignore you. On the train, I heard one of the conductors call to the other, ‘How many in that car?’ And the other one answered, ‘Nineteen people, and one Nigra in the back’. I wasn’t a person, see, as far as they was concerned. But the British Legation in Richmond was fine. They certainly were surprised to see me, though, when I mentioned this Brian guy to them.”

  “And then they sent you to London?” asked Virginia. With a pang of regret, Christopher felt the hand remove itself from his arm, but then it moved itself to cover his own hand. It felt kind of … nice.

  “That was a shock. Long boat trip, and then the English weather. Have you ever been to London?”

  “No, why?”

  “Take lots of warm clothes with you if you do. I like to froze my ass off— Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that,” he hurriedly babbled.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve heard the word before. If you promise not to tell anyone else, I can tell you that I’ve even used it myself a few times, you know.”

  “Thank you. Very sorry about that. What was I saying? Oh yes, London. Those Limeys don’t seem to mind cold and rain, I swear. They actually seem to enjoy it.”

  “And how’s Henry? Do you like working with him?”

  “Oh yes. At first, I think he didn’t want an American working with him. Black or white or any kind of color. He doesn’t seem to care about what race a man is—but he does seem to care about what sort of person you are—I suppose he’d call it being a gentleman.”

  “Well, if he thinks you’re a gentleman, I’d have to agree with him,” Virginia replied.

  Christopher felt his cheeks growing warm. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “Now I think Henry and I get on all right. But these Brits, you know. It’s really difficult to know what they’re thinking sometimes. Not like Americans.”

  They drove on in silence for a while.

  “You know, there’s one thing I miss since moving away,” said Christopher suddenly.

  “What’s that?”

  “Playing the piano. Mind, I never learned to play any of the stuff that Miss Justin liked. Her niece Kitty who lived with her for some years played that Chopin and Beethoven stuff, and she tried to teach me how to play it, but I used to like to make up my own music and Miss Justin used to let me play sometimes in the evenings. You know, when they beat up on me, I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to play the piano again. They broke two fingers and they’ve only just healed.”

  Virginia looked at him with open admiration. “Careful now,” said Christopher. “We’re going to hit—” She quickly jerked the steering wheel, and the pole was avoided.

  “Sorry,” she said. “But that’s amazing! You really make up your own music? These fingers?” she asked, picking up his left hand and holding it in hers. “You poor thing, though!” She raised his hand to her lips and kissed it. “You must come round to my apartment soon and play some of your music on my piano.”

  “I really don’t want to be any trouble,” began Christopher, by now completely and hopelessly embarrassed.

  “Oh, you’re getting to be too darned British!” cried Virginia. “I’ll come round to the Willard this evening and we’ll go on to my apartment together.”

  -o-

  When Christopher told Henry later that day what had happened, while reporting the successful negotiation of the lease of a Georgetown house, Henry went uncharacteristically quiet.

  “Do you mind if I meet her outside the office?” asked Christopher.

  “No, it’s not that, dear boy. It’s that I don’t want to see you hurt. You see, I don’t know because I’ve never talked to you about this, but I can’t imagine you’ve had anything that I would consider a normal relationship with a girl. Dear me, this is very embarrassing for both of us, isn’t it?” He mopped his face with a handkerchief. “What I’m trying to tell you, Christopher, is that you shouldn’t let yourself get too fond of Virginia. She is extremely attractive, in every way. But she is so different from you. Her father could probably buy half of the Confederacy.”

  “He’s that rich?” asked Christopher incredulously.

  Henry nodded. “And let’s be honest, dear fellow, you’re not rich. And there’s one other thing…” he let his voice trail away.

  “You mean my color? She’s white and I’m not? You mean I’m not as good as her? Is that what you’re trying to say to me?” Christopher did not appear to be angry, but he sounded saddened by what Henry was saying to him.

  “That’s exactly what I was trying not to say. No, Christopher, and no again. In every way that matters, you are Virginia’s equal, as far as I can see. I want you to know that I believe that absolutely and firmly. There is no aspect in which I consider you to be inferior or ‘not good as her’, as you put it just now. I am certain that Virginia would agree absolutely with me on this. But you have to ask yourself, as I am doing now, will Virginia’s parents feel the same way?”

  “Why would I ever meet them?”

  “Because, you stupid ass, Virginia will want them to meet their future son-in-law. I don’t imagine she’s just going to run off and elope with you.”

  “Son-in-law?”

  “Oh good heavens, lad. Haven’t you seen the way she looks at you? I don’t suppose you notice as much as I see. If ever I saw a woman who was looking for a husband and thinks she’s found him, it’s Virginia. Please, Christopher, listen to me. We have to work with Virginia. Good. She’s wonderful company. You are friends with her. I’m delighted. But please, for everyone’s sake, don’t let it go beyond friendship until you’re completely sure. If you get confused or want advice, or a shoulder to cry on, I’m her
e, and I shall be very willing to listen to you, and to tell you what I feel I have to say.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Please understand, Christopher. I want you to enjoy your life. For now, if you want my suggestion?”

  “Yes?”

  “Go out with Virginia tonight if you must. Play her piano—I had no idea you were a musician, I must say, and I wish you’d let me know some time ago. But anyway, I want to hear you play some time soon—and I want you to remain her friend. But please try not to let yourself feel more than friendship unless you really know what you’re doing, even though I know it’s difficult, if not impossible. And more importantly, you’d be behaving like an absolute cad if you ever encouraged her to feel some kind of affection for you that you had no intention of returning. I couldn’t think well of you if I ever discovered you’d done something like that.”

  “I think I see what you mean. Thank you, Henry.”

  “It’s not just a matter of you and her, remember, Christopher. It’s a matter of international politics. So just be careful, there’s a good chap. Now cheer up and help me finish this filing. A whole lot of newspaper cuttings about prospecting and trial drilling for oil wells in Kansas just came in, courtesy of the State Department.”

  Chapter 17: Near Cordele, Georgia, Confederate States of America; a few weeks after the last

  “I really don’t want to work for them Germans no more.”

  Battalion Orderly Sergeant David Slater pushed the stack of papers to one side, and sighed loudly. He’d been promoted and given extra responsibilities on his return from Germany. The work he had done there, along with the heroism he had displayed during his capture by the Limey spy (no-one had even suspected the truth of the matter, given the massive bruise on his face, and the story he had invented to cover himself—and also to cover Brian, if he was honest with himself), had done that for him.

  “You have a problem, Sergeant?” asked the Major sitting at the other side of the office working on his own pile of paperwork. He was newly arrived, not really a part of the regiment as far as David could tell, and had joined them from Richmond as some sort of link between the Army of the Confederacy and the German visitors.

  “Yes, sir,” answered David. “I really can’t figure where we’re going to put these extra hundred fifty German specialists arriving next week, short of building some new huts, or putting C and D companies of the 2nd into tents, which we don’t have, and we’re going to have to requisition from Richmond.” Actually, he was describing one of the least of his problems. Since his return from Berlin, he’d started noticing girls as an important part of his life that was missing. When he’d left Hannah at her parents’ house in Berlin, she’d kissed him goodbye, and given him a handkerchief, which he still secretly kept tucked into his inside tunic pocket. He could still smell her perfume on it, he imagined, when he held it close to his face at night.

  “Why can’t you put the Germans into tents?” asked the Major.

  “I heard tell they tried that near New Orleans last month, and it didn’t go over too well, sir. The Germans started complaining about the bugs and such. We had to move them all into huts and put our own boys into the tents.”

  “Then it looks as if C and D companies will have to go into the tents, doesn’t it, Sergeant? Do you need an officer’s signature on the requisition form? I’ll sign if you want.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I’ll get it to you in a few minutes, sir.” David wasn’t quite sure why the Major was with them, let alone sitting in the office with him. He didn’t seem to know that much about the Army or about anything much, come to that. He guessed he was there for some good reason, though.

  “What kind of specialists are coming here, sir?” asked David.

  “They’re Zeppelin specialists,” replied the Major. “Never heard of Zeppelins?” David shook his head. “A German kind of airship.” David still looked blank. “Don’t know what an airship is? It’s a kind of big balloon that floats in the air, with a shape something like a cigar. Put engines on it and it moves through the air like a boat except that it goes at least twice as fast as a boat goes through the water.”

  “How big, sir?” David was interested by the idea of a big cigar floating through the air at high speed.

  “Depends. Some of them could probably carry about a hundred folks or even more. But the Germans used them in the European War for dropping bombs on London.”

  “Really big, then,” said David, impressed.

  “Right. Really big. As big as an ocean liner. Now the Germans are the best in the world in designing these things. They want to start a service between Germany and us here in the South so that folks can go backwards and forwards quickly between Europe and America. But there’s one problem, Sergeant.”

  David played the stooge. “What’s that, sir?”

  “Well, these airships can’t just go up and come down anywhere. When they’re on the ground, they need a special sort of tower to hook up to and special sheds to keep the weather away from them. Now this town here’s got a lot of railroads coming in and out of it, so it would be a mighty fine place for the airships to come to land so that folks can get in and out of this place easily and go on to other cities. Far enough away from the sea that the storms won’t cause problems.”

  “Sounds mighty interesting, sir. Where are they going to put these big towers and sheds and things, sir?”

  “That’s one of the things the Germans are going to decide for us, seeing that they know a lot more than we do about this kind of thing. My guess is that they’ll go about five or six miles west of the town, towards the river. They use a fair bit of water when they work these things, and they like to be a good ways out of town, just in case there’s an accident.”

  “Guess it’s going to be a sight more interesting than looking after cans of pork and beans,” David sighed.

  “Reckon it is, Sergeant. I’m looking for someone to help me out with my job, taking care of papers. The guy who was meant to be coming down from Richmond with me fell sick two days before we were due to set off, and the Army still hasn’t found a replacement. Reckon you might want to help me out?”

  “I don’t know if that’s going to be possible, sir.”

  “Let me have a word with the folks up in Richmond, and they can talk to your Colonel. Everyone says good things about you, and you seem to know your way around. Do you speak German, by the way?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I suppose that would have been too much to expect.”

  “But I did go to Germany, sir, just a bit of a way back.”

  “Oh?” The Major looked at David with what appeared to be respect. “So you’ve met the Germans before? Worked with them? What did you think?”

  David considered a little before giving his answer. “Well, sir, they were certainly efficient. We got fed and looked after pretty good while we were over there. And there was some of them there that was pretty good guys to work with, I guess.”

  “Glad to hear it. The fact you’ve been over to Germany already is going to look good to Richmond, I reckon.”

  -o-

  And so it was that David found himself to be the senior (and for the moment, the only) NCO of the First Airship Support Regiment of the Army of the Confederacy. He was in charge of four desks, a large filing cabinet, and two rather bewildered civilian surveyors, who were not actually in the Army, but who were on loan to help the Germans with their work once they arrived. Two hundred fifty new recruits and twenty NCOs were scheduled to join the unit as construction workers, together with a number of slaves, once it had been decided exactly what sort of construction was to be carried out.

  Major LeHay had temporary command of the unit, such as it was, and he and David, in their best dress uniforms, met the advance party of three Germans at the railroad depot. The rest of the party was due to arrive in the next few days.

  A Major Weisstal, who wore a monocle, led the party. His English was good, even if he did sound a bit li
ke Brian at times, and he explained that he’d been to college in England. David’s immediate task was to show the Germans to their huts, and explain to them exactly where the mess hall, recreation areas, and so on, were located.

  Weisstal seemed slightly less than enthusiastic about what he saw. “Of course, we thank you for your hospitality, Sergeant,” he said. “But the first thing we are going to have to do here is to clean everything properly.”

  David, who had spent the past two days supervising a squad tidying up the huts and cleaning them, felt offended, and took refuge in silence. Major Weisstal sniffed the air disdainfully as they entered the mess hall.

  “What in the name of God was served here this morning at luncheon?” he asked.

  “Fried chicken with rice and beans and turnip greens, sir,” answered David.

  “Is this the kind of food you are expecting to be serving to my men?” asked Weisstal.

  “Why, yes sir. There’s no special arrangements been made that I’ve heard tell.”