by P A Minyard
“Jonathan, it takes great courage to face someone when every part of your being is telling you to run,” Bernard said in a fatherly tone. “It is no coincidence that you were asked to join the Beloved. You will only fail if you stop trying.”
“I’m sorry,” Jonathan replied. “This is the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me,” Bernard said. “I know you haven’t given up. If you had, you wouldn’t be out here right now. The gate has need of you, doesn’t it?”
“The tug at my heart is hard to ignore,” Jonathan answered.
“Then, I’m the one who should apologize,” Bernard said, “for getting in your way.”
Jonathan forced a smile. He slowly pushed the day’s events from his mind and focused on what might be waiting for him on the other side of the gate. Once he had fully committed to the task at hand, he called for the gate and walked through.
The bright light of day burned his eyes, and he squinted at first. He was in a field of tall grass and could hear gunfire in the distance. A battle raged nearby, just past a line of trees. Jonathan was about to get his first taste of war. He moved closer and closer to the skirmish; the roar of battle bombarded his ears. He could hear the shouts of men and sense their confusion and fear.
“That’ll be far enough,” said a voice behind him.
Jonathan stopped in his tracks. He had no weapons and would have no way of defending himself against a soldier with a gun. He turned around slowly as he lifted his hands in the air to show that he was defenseless. Two Confederate soldiers stared him down.
“You look too young to be a soldier. Are you a scout?” one of the Confederates asked.
Jonathan felt his chest tighten. One of these soldiers was a demon, and Jonathan felt oddly relieved by the discovery. He said nothing at first, trying to discern which soldier he would be facing.
“You better speak up,” the Confederate continued. “We hang spies down here.”
“I’m not a spy,” Jonathan piped up.
“Then, what are you doing on the wrong side of the battlefield, Billy Yank?”
Jonathan took a deep breath. He knew this was his chance to set the fear aside and face this challenge head on.
“Show yourself, demon,” Jonathan called out. “I’ve come for you.” The two Confederates started to laugh. They looked at each other first, then back at Jonathan, before their eyes flashed black as night. Their faces turned sinister, and Jonathan swallowed hard. This wasn’t at all what he’d had in mind. The demons simultaneously reached their right hands into their pockets and pulled out black orbs. They played with them at first, allowing them to hover over their palms. Jonathan had never seen this before. Then they hurled the orbs into his chest. He dropped to the ground feeling like his lungs were being crushed. He couldn’t breathe.
“Well, that wasn’t much fun,” the first demon said.
“Darn right disappointing.”
They walked over to Jonathan who was face down in the grass. The first demon straddled his body and rolled him over, but Jonathan was playing possum. He noticed the demon had a smug look of victory on its face, and then the scar opened and took the first demon’s power. The second demon immediately distanced itself from Jonathan. Jonathan scrambled to his feet but wasn’t feeling well. He still had trouble breathing, but he calmed his nerves and tried to focus.
“Guess it’s your turn now,” Jonathan said. The cockiness had surfaced, and he went with it. “This is who I have to be,” he thought. He felt the first demon’s power coursing through him and it added to his confidence. His body began heating up, but he didn’t feel sick this time.
“My turn to kill you,” the demon growled. He pulled another orb from his pocket and hurled it at Jonathan’s head. But Jonathan ducked out of the way as the orb shot past his ear.
“Come on! You can do better,” Jonathan taunted. “If I anger him enough, maybe he’ll forget himself,” he thought.
The demon took the bait, pulling out two orbs and flinging them Jonathan’s way. Jonathan dived to the ground then popped up again untouched.
“You’re not very good with those, are you?” he said.
The demon lunged at Jonathan’s throat, infuriated. Jonathan side-stepped the attack and pushed the demon to the ground. His training begun to make sense now, and he used the enemy’s mistakes to his advantage, just like his sergeant had said. But he had forgotten what Daniel had told him about underestimating his opponent.
The demon rolled over and charged Jonathan on all fours. It shed its human façade and showed its true form. It had scales from head to toe and pointed ears. Large fangs protruded from its mouth, and the claws on its feet dug into the earth. Jonathan thought it looked like a gargoyle he had seen in a book once. The demon pounced on Jonathan, knocking him to the ground. It tore at his chest, ripping through the uniform with ease. The claws burned his skin with every swipe the demon took. Jonathan tried to push the demon away but to no avail. The pain was unimaginable, and it was all he could do to open the scar. It felt like the demon fell into his chest as he took its power.
Jonathan called out in agony. His chest was on fire and he writhed in pain. Bernard came to his aid immediately. He fought to pull Jonathan’s hands away from the wounds on his chest. Where the demon’s claws had sunk in, there were huge blisters.
“It burns so bad!” Jonathan screamed. He was still rolling around.
“The demon had venom in his claws,” Bernard answered, kneeling down by the boy.
“Make it stop, please!” Jonathan cried. He was delirious with pain and kept calling out.
Bernard placed his hand over Jonathan’s eyes, sending him to sleep. He picked up the lad’s limp body and carried him along the battle lines until he found the place where the wounded were taken. Bernard tore apart his own shirt and used it to bandage the boy’s chest. He propped Jonathan against a tree and waited by his side.
Days later Jonathan awoke. He grimaced and squinted. He could see a white tent over his head, and he was lying on a cot. Bernard was still at his side.
“What happened?” Jonathan asked. His mouth was dry and the words seemed to stick to his lips.
“You vanquished two demons and took quite a beating for it,” Bernard replied.
“Where are we?” Jonathan asked, and lifted his head to look around.
“Somewhere near Vicksburg, I think,” Bernard said. “The army is laying siege to the city.”
“How long have I been here?” Jonathan asked, beginning to panic. “There’s no need to worry,” Bernard assured him. “When you’re ready to go back, the gate can deliver you at a moment very near the time you left. No one will be the wiser of your absence.”
“You stayed with me.” Jonathan’s voice cracked.
“I am your guardian,” Bernard replied. “And you are an amazing young man.”
21
ONE CHANCE
It was June 1863. Though he suffered an unfathomable defeat at Chancellorsville, General Hooker kept his command. President Lincoln had no other option but to leave him in charge; other candidates had refused the position. His forces had now dwindled, and he headed north in pursuit of General Lee. Major Parker and the men under his command accompanied the march.
Benedict paced back and forth in his tent. As quickly as he had found Donovan, he lost the scent after the demon had escaped his grasp. And once again, he found that many of Donovan’s followers were tight-lipped about his location. He had taken to talking to Daniel. If anyone had actually burst into his tent unannounced, they would have thought he was talking to himself. At first, he tried to glean more information about the Beloved, but after some time he began to feel an inexplicable bond with the human. Never had he shared a body with another persona.
“What will you do with me once you’ve killed Donovan?” Daniel asked.
“Your powers are far too appealing for me just to let go of you,”
Benedict replied. “Besid
es, it seems you’ve become used to me.”
“And you to me,” Daniel said.
“I will not give you any more power, if that’s what you’re hoping.”
“No,” Daniel answered, “there’s too much risk in it.”
“Indeed,” Benedict said. “Truly, I will never understand you Beloved. So much power at your disposal, so many things just lie at your feet, yet you seem hesitant to take what is yours. What is it you fear?”
“Exactly what I’ve become,” Daniel replied. “That is all the power has to offer. It does not give; it simply takes your very being until you are left with nothing but a shell.”
“How poetic,” Benedict said, surprised at Daniel’s response, “and utterly misguided, but a thought straight from the heart of a bard. Yet another reason to keep you around — you amuse me. And maybe, one day, you will find my company to your liking as well.”
Training was cut short that day, and the young men lined up to receive their first pay. The boys in camp were lucky; the soldiers on the field were often paid late if at all. Most of the families were in need of this money, and the boys hurried to send it back home. Jonathan looked down at the slip he was handed, unsure of what to do with it. He thought to send it back home as well; it might serve to ease their worries. Then he had another thought and rushed off to the infirmary. He asked around until he located Mattie. He rushed up to her, unable to contain his excitement.
“Jonathan!” she called out, excited to see him as well.
“I never got to thank you for all of your kindness,” he said. “There’s no need,” she blushed. “I’m so glad that you’re feeling better.”
He stood there staring back at her, tongue-tied at how pretty she was. There was an awkward pause but Jonathan didn’t seem to notice.
“May I help you with something?” she asked.
“Yes!” he responded, his voice cracking slightly. But still he just stood there, looking at her, unable to complete his thought.
“Does it have to do with what you’re holding?” she asked, trying to coax it out of him.
“Yes, sorry.” He put his hand behind his head and grabbed at his hair while trying to compose himself. He then held up the pay slip that was in his other hand. “Would you please help me send this back home?”
“Of course,” she said, reaching for the slip. “I’ll need to know your address.”
Jonathan smiled and paused again, gazing at her. He caught himself immediately and tried to cover it up. “Address, right, um...”
“Come with me,” she said, and grabbed his hand and pulled him toward an office.
Jonathan’s heart skipped a beat in a good way when the warmth of her skin met his. He followed along like a lost puppy looking for a home. She handed him an envelope and pen and asked him to write it down.
“I’ll take it to the post office in town. It will go out quicker than the mail from camp,” she said as he scribbled the information. She placed the slip in the envelope and then sealed it. “Was there anything else?” she asked. Her eyes locked on Jonathan’s, and she became a bit dreamy herself.
“Just this.” Jonathan stepped up and boldly kissed her on the cheek.
She placed her hand on her face and turned bright red. Before she had time to react, he spun around and rushed away.
The day that Jonathan dreaded more than any other had finally come. The boys were issued with their rifles. They were told they wouldn’t be allowed to discharge the weapon more than a few times, since minié balls and powder were a luxury the army couldn’t afford to waste. Jonathan was relieved to hear that part of the introduction.
They were shown the various parts of the rifle, how to hold it, how to aim and how to fire. And they were led through the tedious process of loading the weapon. There were multiple steps, and it was difficult to achieve speed and efficiency under perfect conditions and even harder under the duress of battle. The instructors tried to apply proper pressure, if only to prepare the boys that much better. Officers walked the line behind the boys, randomly firing their pistols over their heads as the young men struggled with the cartridges, ramrods and percussion caps.
Jonathan held the gun in his hands. It was heavy but not as heavy as he remembered. He placed the butt against his right shoulder and extended his left arm to support the barrel. He became alarmed at how natural it felt, not at all what he was expecting. But like most of the boys, he fumbled as he tried to load it. There were so many steps that it was easy to forget which one you were on.
It was his turn to discharge his weapon. He felt he had it properly loaded and held the gun in position. He took aim at his target and gently squeezed the trigger. The butt of the gun kicked into his shoulder as the minié ball released. The powder burned his nose as a small puff of smoke rose after the discharge. He missed just like so many others. Only those who hunted on a regular basis actually hit anything they shot at.
The instructors had them call out the sequence needed to load the gun over and over again. There was no other way to ensure that the new soldiers wouldn’t forget how to do it while being fired upon. Afterwards, they were shown how to dismantle and clean the weapon, a task that would soon become a part of their daily routine.
He wished he could give the gun back. It looked just like the one Joshua had received for Christmas the previous year. All the memories of those days flooded back into his brain, and his stomach felt sick. He had lost Joshua, and something told him that Benjamin must also be dead. He wished to ask Bernard what had really happened, but in his heart, he didn’t want to hear the truth. It would be far too painful, and Benjamin was beyond his help now.
Jonathan skipped out on dinner. He wasn’t hungry anyway, and figured no one would notice his absence. He found a quiet place to be alone, and pulled out Daniel’s pipe. He held it in his hands as he thought back to how different the world was just six months earlier. He ran his thumb back and forth along the stem of the pipe and could still smell the faint odor of tobacco. He closed his eyes and let all thoughts drift from his mind. He began to feel trapped, confined and lonely. The feelings didn’t make sense to him. He knew they were not his own. He clutched the pipe that much tighter.
“What is this?” he thought. “Who is this?” He tried to clear his mind once more and only listen with his heart. There was a rush of childhood memories; images of him and Beth through Daniel’s eyes. Jonathan couldn’t breathe; somehow he had connected with his brother. A tear formed in his right eye and ran down his cheek.
“How is Daniel?” Bernard asked, and sat down next to Jonathan.
“What just happened?” Jonathan was shaking.
“That pipe you hold in your hand was very dear to Daniel,” Bernard said. “As a Beloved, you have the ability to connect with others through their personal items or tokens of love.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You can feel what they’re feeling, though you won’t be able to hear them or see them,” Bernard answered. “So how is Daniel?”
“He’s lonely,” Jonathan said as he put the pipe away. “He was thinking of Beth and me when we were little.”
“Take heart,” Bernard said with a smile. “There is love inside of him. You might be able to use that to your advantage.”
“I don’t think I have many advantages,” Jonathan half-laughed.
“All you need is one,” Bernard replied. “Use it when the time is right.” “How will I know?”
“Trust Daniel, and trust yourself.” Bernard spoke with confidence.
“I wish I could tell Beth,” Jonathan said, and turned to Bernard. “I don’t want her to be sad. I just want her to understand.”
“You wrote a fine letter. The details are not as important as you think.”
“But when this is over...” He trailed off, unable to say what he knew was coming.
“She knows how you feel. That’s all that matters.”
“How can you be so sure? How do you know any of this?” Jonathan began
fidgeting. His nerves were on edge.
“If I told you right now that you had very little chance to defeat Benedict and save your brother, would you walk away?” Bernard looked at Jonathan.
“No,” he replied, feeling in his heart that was the answer he should give.
“Why?” Bernard pushed.
“There’s still a chance,” Jonathan said firmly.
“Then, why worry about the known when there is so much that is unknown? And why worry about the unknown when there is so much that is known?”
“Can’t it simply be ‘Yes’ or ‘No’?” Jonathan asked, shaking his head in frustration.
“Nothing is ever that simple,” Bernard laughed.
22
TREPIDATION
The young men spent their time drilling, marching, and cleaning their guns. It wouldn’t be long now before they were deployed. By the end of the day, the boys were exhausted, but Jonathan had no trouble keeping up. He would lie awake at night, unable to sleep. He had made a few short trips through the gate since his encounter with those two rebel demons, and recovery time wasn’t an issue now. If anyone did see him leave, they would have thought he went outside to relieve himself because he was always back in little time.
He really didn’t mind this part of being a Beloved. It was a fine group of young men that surrounded him, and everyone shared stories of their home life and what they’d do once they got to go back. Some had pictures of wives or sweethearts. Others had photos of their children. Jonathan wished they all could go home safely; he knew what it was like to sit and wait for news of a loved one caught up in war.
Jonathan could feel a tug in his chest that night. He had been in bed just listening to the quiet of the camp. It was an odd juxtaposition to the bustle of daytime. And every now and then, there would be snoring in the barracks. It reminded Jonathan of Duff and the first night Daniel returned home. He wanted to ignore the tightness, but it continued to annoy him, so he slipped outside and opened the gate.
It was still nighttime, and Jonathan walked the streets of a large city. He was taken with the buildings lining the streets, one right after the other. Red bricks were everywhere he looked. He’d never been to a big city before and wandered aimlessly for some time, eyes full of wonder. His uniform garnered him attention from almost every young lady he passed. It made him feel awkward and self-conscious.