by Al Lacy
“I sure hope so. It grieves me to see you wasting away like this.”
Myrna reached across the table and patted her daughter’s hand. “Don’t you be worrying about me. One of these days this horrible war will be over and your papa will come home. I’ll be fine, then.”
Jenny squeezed her hand. “You just hold on to that dream, won’t you?”
Myrna put a hand to her mouth and her eyes filled with tears. “I’ll try.”
Jenny rose from the table. “Mama, I’m going to make a stew before I leave for work. Will you keep wood on the fire in the stove so it can simmer all day?”
Myrna nodded.
“All right. Now, let’s get you into the parlor.”
After settling her mother in the rocking chair in the parlor and wrapping a light shawl around her shoulders, Jenny returned to the kitchen. She prepared carrots, potatoes, onions, and chunks of beef for the stew, and put them into a heavy pot. She added wood to the fire and placed the pot at the back of the stove to simmer.
Moments later, Jenny entered the parlor, kissed her mother’s sunken cheeks, and stepped outside into a glorious, sunny fall day. Even her spirits were lifted a little as her tired eyes took in the array of color amid the trees that lined the street. When she reached the sidewalk, she turned and waved at her mother, then hurried off to work.
There were a few customers waiting in front of the store when Jenny arrived. Pressing a smile on her lips, she said, “Good morning, folks. I’ll see if I can speed things up in there so we can get you in a little early.”
“That would be nice, Jenny,” said a young mother, who was holding a toddler in one arm while gripping the handle of a baby carriage with an infant inside.
Jenny stepped inside and found Zack and Emma busy behind the counter, making ready for the day’s business. She greeted them.
“How’s your mother today?” asked Emma as Jenny moved behind the counter.
“A little better, Emma. She still has her good moments and her bad ones. But I think she’s having a few more good ones since Dr. Griffin was there to see her yesterday. He was a real encouragement to her.”
“I’m glad for that. She needs all the encouragement she can get.”
Jenny had her cash drawer ready quickly. “I told those folks outside that I’d see if we could open a few minutes early for them. I’m ready if you are.”
Zack grinned and headed around the end of the counter. “Okay, Miss Fix-it, we’ll just do that.”
As the hours passed and customers came into the store, most of them, as usual, talked about the War. Some spoke of particular battles that had been fought of late and voiced their sorrow for the Union soldiers who had been killed. Others spoke their sorrow for the Union soldiers who had lost limbs, for those who had lost their eyesight, and for those who had been captured and were languishing in dirty, disease-infested Confederate prison camps.
In early afternoon, Jenny and Emma were working the counter. Both had lines of a half-dozen customers as they tallied up the bills and sacked goods. In both lines, people were discussing different aspects of the War and its casualties while they waited.
In front of Jenny, the woman she was waiting on was in conversation with the man just behind her. They were talking about the Union soldiers who were being killed on Southern battlefields and dumped in shallow graves without embalmment or coffins, where their bodies would rot while being devoured by worms.
Suddenly Jenny dropped the pencil she was holding, put her hands to her mouth, and began to weep. While the man and the woman, along with the rest of those in line stared at her, Emma stepped to Jenny and laid a hand on her arm. “What’s wrong, honey?”
Jenny bit her lips and looked at Emma through her tears. “All of this war talk, Emma. I just need a few minutes to get a hold of myself.”
“Go on back to the office. Zack is over there in the hardware section. I’ll get him to take over for you here.”
Jenny nodded. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
While the customers looked on, Jenny hurried from behind the counter and made a run for the office at the rear of the store. Entering the office, she closed the door behind her, sat down at the desk, and laid her head in her hands. While she wept, her mind went wild. Her thoughts rushed to her father. She got a mental picture of his body lying in a shallow grave somewhere in the South. Seconds later, the picture in her mind changed, and she saw him in the midst of battle. He was crouched behind his dead horse, firing his revolver at approaching Confederate soldiers, when suddenly a cannonball hit and exploded.
When the smoke cleared, Jenny could see her father lying on the ground, alive, with an arm missing and blood flowing. She gasped and muffled a sob.
Suddenly the mental image changed again. This time, she saw her father confined in a Rebel prison camp, dying of some horrible disease with no one there to take care of him or comfort him.
“Oh, Papa! Oh, Papa! I can’t stand these horrible thoughts. Please come home before any of these things happen to you!”
After sobbing for a few more minutes, Jenny gained control of herself. She went to the washroom and bathed her face in cold water. When she had dried her face, she touched up her hair and returned to the counter.
That evening at closing time, Jenny bid the Hendersons good night and headed for home. While she walked, she thought of the mental images that had assaulted her mind concerning her father earlier in the day. Suddenly, she was getting images of Nate, seeing him in the same kind of predicaments. Shaking her head to rid herself of the pictures, Jenny felt the strong desire to wipe out every Southern man who put on a gray uniform.
The Linden house came into view. She thought of her mother’s words spoken at breakfast that morning: Jenny, I wish you didn’t have such a vengeful spirit.
She smiled to herself and said aloud, “Mama, if people do bad things, they deserve what comes to them.”
At supper, Jenny was concerned that her mother ate very little of the beef stew, but she knew it would do no good to try to force her to eat more.
As usual, mother and daughter spent the evening in the parlor with Myrna reading that day’s edition of the Harrisburg Journal. Jenny read three more chapters of her novel.
At bedtime, Jenny tucked her mother in, and as she walked down the hall toward her own room, her mind was fixed on Nate Conrad. She missed him terribly, and there was only one way to ease the pain of it.
Upon entering her room, she sat down at her small desk and took out paper and pen. She closed her eyes, trying to think what she should say. After a minute or so, she dipped the pen in the inkwell and began her letter.
Friday, September 23, 1864
My darling Nate,
Yes, this is the nineteenth letter I have written to you since you went off to fight in the War. And, since there is no mail service to wherever you are, this letter will go into the desk drawer with the other eighteen for you to read when you come home. As I have told you in the other letters, I write these periodically because somehow it makes me feel close to you.
I want to say once more, my darling, that I love you with all my heart, and I miss you so terribly. I see so many women here in town who miss their husbands, sons, and sweethearts. But none of them miss their men as much as I miss you. I know you miss me too, and we can talk about our lonely hours during the War when we are living in our own home here in Harrisburg as husband and wife.
Until then, my precious Nate, don’t ever forget that you are the only one for me. If at night, you will look up at the stars and remember that I am looking at those same stars, you will feel closer to me.
All my love,
Your Jenny
Jenny wiped tears while she blotted the ink, then read the letter over. “Someday, when we’re married, darling,” she said softly, “we can let our love grow deeper as you read these letters while we’re cuddled together on our sofa in our own house.”
Before folding the letter, Jenny planted a kiss on the spot
where she had started with “My darling Nate.” She then opened a drawer and took out the small stack of letters which were tied with a pink ribbon. She slid the letter on top, placed the stack back in the drawer, and closed it.
Jenny picked the lantern up from atop the desk, left her room, and moved down the hall to her mother’s room. Opening the door quietly, she peeked in. By the light of the lantern, she saw that her mother was fast asleep. A smile curved her lips as she whispered, “I love you, Mama.”
She closed the door quietly and returned to her own room. Moments later, in her nightgown, Jenny doused the lantern’s flame and slipped down between the sheets. Once again, her mind went to her father. A lump rose in her throat. “Papa, I love you and I miss you so much.”
Memories of her childhood flooded Jenny’s mind. She talked to her father about one incident after another that happened when they were together in days gone by.
After reminiscing for several minutes, she said, “Papa, every one of those precious moments only serve to make me love you even more. Thank you for all the wonderful memories you gave me. We can talk about them when you come home.”
Soon Jenny cried herself to sleep.
The next morning, Jenny arrived at Henderson’s General Store, and at opening time, with Zack and Emma at her side, she busied herself waiting on customers.
As usual, the prominent subject among the customers was the Civil War and its casualties. While doing her job, Jenny tried to block the War talk from her mind, but there came a moment early in the afternoon when she was having flashes of mental pictures concerning her father and Nate—just like the ones that had tortured her the day before. Suddenly, as she finished sacking goods for a customer, she broke down and began to cry.
Emma excused herself to the customer she was serving. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
Jenny met Emma’s gaze. “It’s all this War talk. I can’t stand constantly hearing about it. You know … with Papa and Nate—”
“I understand, honey.”
Zack leaned close. “Emma, business is slowing down now. I can handle it. Take Jenny back to the office and talk to her.”
Emma took Jenny by the hand and quickly led her back to the office.
When they stepped inside, Emma closed the door and folded Jenny in her arms. “Sweetie, I know your heart is heavy. You not only have your mother’s depression to deal with, but you have had to live with the fact that you may never see your father and Nate again.”
Jenny sobbed for several minutes, clinging to Emma. When she gained control of her emotions, Emma released her, allowing her to dry her tears. Jenny kissed Emma’s cheek. “Thank you for being such a true, caring friend to me.”
Emma kissed Jenny’s cheek in return. “And thank you for being such a sweet girl. Yes, and for being such a good friend too.”
“I’m ready to go back to work now.”
“All right. Let’s go.”
It was late in the afternoon when Zack reminded Emma that he had an appointment with the president of the Bank of Harrisburg concerning the loan for the new house they wanted to build. Knowing it would take a while, he asked Emma to close up for him, adding that he would be home by suppertime.
Soon it was six o’clock and time to close the store. Jenny locked the door and hung the closed sign in the window. She turned to Emma, who was taking the money out of the cash drawers and placing it in a metal box. “I’ll go tidy up the office a bit before I go.”
Emma smiled. “Thanks, honey. I’ll be back to put this money in the safe in a couple minutes.”
As Jenny was heading toward the rear of the store, she heard a tap on the front door, and Emma calling out that the store was closed. Shaking her head at the way people acted sometimes, Jenny entered the office and began her cleaning job.
Out front the customer looked through the window on the door and said loud enough for Emma to hear, “Please, ma’am. Let me in.”
Emma noted that he was a young man with a full beard. Rounding the end of the counter, she approached the door, unlocked it, and opened it a few inches. “What do you need?”
“I’m just passing through town, ma’am, and I need a few food items. I won’t take much of your time.”
Emma smiled. “All right. Come in.”
“Thank you,” said the young man.
Emma closed the door and locked it. As she started to turn around, she said, “If you’ll tell me what you need, I’ll help you find—” The words stuck in her throat when she saw the small revolver in his hand, which was pointed directly at her face. “Wh-what do you want?”
“I want the money from the cash drawer. You were just taking it out, weren’t you?”
Emma’s mouth had gone dry. “Well, yes, but—”
“Just go back there behind the counter and give it to me.”
Emma’s face was gray as she started toward the counter with the robber on her heels.
At the rear of the store, Jenny heard the male voice. She started out of the office and halted quickly when she saw the bearded man holding the gun on Emma as she was moving behind the counter. Quickly assessing the situation, Jenny stepped back into the office so the robber wouldn’t see her. He obviously thought Emma was in the store alone, giving him the perfect opportunity to relieve her of the money in the cash drawers.
Jenny’s heart was pounding wildly, but she had a plan in mind instantly. Crouching low, she moved out of the office quickly and silently moved down the aisles of shelves to the hardware section. Several ax handles leaned against the wall. She grasped one, and keeping low, headed in a line that would bring her up behind the robber.
Behind the counter, Emma’s fear had her shaking. She dropped some of the money on the floor.
The robber snapped, “Hurry, lady! Pick it up!”
Emma froze, clinging to the edge of the counter.
The robber slapped her face. “I said pick it up!”
Emma gasped, let out a whimper, and stumbled back against the wall.
Hastening along her chosen path in a crouch, Jenny heard the slap, the whimper, and Emma’s stumbling feet.
Her temper flared.
She felt her blood heat up.
Just as she came to the end of a row of shelves where she could see the robber from behind, he was leaning over the counter and stuffing money in his pockets. She moved with the swiftness of a cougar, swung the ax handle, and cracked him savagely on the head. He went down like a poleaxed steer and hit the floor, unconscious.
Emma blinked at the sight before her and shakily moved back up to her place at the counter. She looked down at Jenny who was foraging through the man’s pockets, pulling out the stolen money.
Jenny paused, looked up at Emma, and said, “Get the police!”
In a bit of a daze, Emma hurried to the door, unlocked it, and swung it open. A man was passing by on the sidewalk. “Harry!” cried Emma. “Get the police! A man just tried to rob us!”
Harry Weems was a regular customer of the store. He stepped up close enough to see the bearded man lying unconscious on the floor, with Jenny emptying his pockets. “Right away!” He turned and ran down the street.
Emma closed the door and leaned against it, trying to clear her head. A moment later, she turned around and saw Jenny behind the counter, placing the money in the cash box. Keeping a wary eye on the man on the floor, Emma hurried back behind the counter. “H-Harry Weems is going for the police.”
“Good,” said Jenny, closing the lid on the metal box.
Emma clung to Jenny’s hand. “Th-thank you for coming to my rescue, honey.”
Jenny’s features reddened. She looked back at the robber. “He would dare to slap you! I’d like to bash—”
The robber was stirring. He moaned, shook his head to clear it, and sat up. Jenny grasped the ax handle, which was leaning against the wall behind her, and with eyes blazing, hurried around the end of the counter.
Emma looked on in amazement as Jenny stood over the bearded man and h
issed, “You scum!” With that, she swung the ax handle and cracked his head again. The impact of the blow flattened him on the floor. He was out cold.
Jenny’s anger was a molten flame in her brain. She lifted the ax handle over her head. “You would dare slap my friend and rob her!”
The ax handle came down on his head again, then Jenny hurried behind the counter and gathered Emma in her arms.
5
AT MEMORIAL HOSPITAL in Frederick, Maryland, on Saturday morning, September 24, hospital superintendent Dr. Homer Walton stood at the front of the small assembly room and watched as his staff of physicians, nurses, and medical assistants was gathering before him. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 6:47.
Two minutes later, all the staff members were present, and seated.
Walton ran his eyes over their faces. “Ladies and gentlemen, I needed to have this meeting with you just before the seven o’clock shift change, so I could make all of you aware of what is about to happen. I assume that most of you heard about the battle that took place near Winchester, Virginia, this past Tuesday.”
Heads were nodding.
Walton continued. “I received a wire late last night from Union army headquarters in Washington, D.C., stating that a train is on its way to Frederick, carrying ninety-three wounded Union soldiers from that battle. It will be arriving about noon today. Since we are already almost to capacity in the military ward, this number of patients arriving is going to put a tremendous load on us. We’ll have to put some of our present patients on cots so the new ones can have the beds.
“From the information I received in the wire, I know there will be several amputations to perform, and a good number of the men will need surgery for bullet and shrapnel removal. Others are not wounded so severely. I know this is going to add exceedingly to your workload, but you have each demonstrated before that you are willing to labor long and hard to care for the men who have bravely fought on the battlefields for the Union cause.”
Heads were nodding again.
