Man Called Ty

by Dicksion, William Wayne

  A MAN CALLED TY

  A Novel by

  William Wayne Dicksion

  Smashwords Edition Copyright 2011 William Wayne Dicksion

  * * *

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Original Copyright © 2008 by William Wayne Dicksion

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recoding, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover design by Malia Wisch, email address: maliadicksion@hotmail.com

  Chapter 1

  “The war is over! The war is over!” a man shouted as he rode by the Terel farm.

  Tyree Terel heard the news while doing his chores. His mother Ruth and his sister Adeline were making breakfast. When they heard the rider, they ran out of the house and stood on the porch. Tyree ran to the corral, saddled his horse, and called out, “I’ll ride into town and get the newspaper!”

  Ruth and Adeline waved happily as he rode by.

  It was still early morning when Tyree reached the little frontier town. The people had already gathered and were talking excitedly.

  The headline on the Cumberland Review read: Lee Surrenders to Grant at Appomattox

  Tyree tried to buy a paper, but the newsman said, “The South has lost, and Confederate currency is no good anymore.”

  Tyree paid him with his last silver coin, and people gathered around wanting to read the paper and talk.

  The Terel family was one of the oldest and most respected families in the Cumberland valley. Everyone wanted to know what Tyree thought about the news that the war had ended. He knew his mother and his sister Adeline were waiting, but he took the time to say, “This is a sad day for the South, but it’s a happy day for the Terel family because Father will be coming home!”

  ***

  The road that passed in front of the Terel farm ran through a meadow, then continued over a low hill, and disappeared in a grove of trees that stood out against the foothills of the Cumberland Mountains. Ruth spent every spare moment looking down the road watching for her husband Drew Terel. Two months went by and still Drew did not return. Last night Ruth cried herself to sleep worrying.

  This morning as the first rays of sunlight reflected off the clouds over the mountains, Ruth pushed a strand of blond hair from her blue eyes, thinking, Perhaps today is the day he will come home.

  Soldiers, wearing both blue and gray—some with an arm or leg missing—straggled down the road. The color of their uniforms made no difference to Ruth. To her they were all just men trying to get home to their families. She gave them food and helped them as best she could. Occasionally, quarrels erupted between the men in blue and the men in gray.

  Ruth scolded them, saying, “The war is over. Now go home to your wives and children, and put this war behind you!”

  The eyes of the men in gray were downcast, their faces empty and gaunt, showing the disappointment of defeat and the stress of four long years of terrible fighting. Their uniforms were old, dirty, and torn. Ruth cleaned and bandaged their wounds and then helped them wash their clothes in the farm pond.

  Ruth saved the life of a dying Union soldier by cleaning and bandaging his wounds, then nurturing him until he could continue home to his family. The union soldier told her that he wouldn’t have made it without her help and showed his appreciation by giving Tyree his Spencer rifle and a carton of cartridges. The Spencer was a seven-shot repeater introduced just before the end of the war. A Confederate soldier gave Tyree a six-shot revolver. Tyree was elated and practiced with his guns every chance he got. He used them to shoot wildlife to help his mother feed the soldiers.

  The Terels were known for their marksmanship and entered in many shooting contests. Tyree’s knack for the use of both the rifle and the handgun was exceptional. People marveled at his skills and said he had a gift and compared it to that of a master painter or musician. Tyree’s father taught both him and Adeline to shoot, and told them, “As frontiersmen, we use guns to protect our homes and our families. We also use guns to provide food, but we never use them against other men unless those men threaten us.”

  At times, when the men were away, it was necessary for women to defend themselves. Ruth was the daughter of a frontiersman, and she, too, had learned to use a gun. On warm summer days, Ty and Addie, as they were called, played along the river. In the evenings they chased fireflies while their mother and father sat in a swing laughing and talking. The call of night birds echoed through the trees and a cool breeze blew in from the meadow. It was a happy place . . . . Then the war came.

  * * *

  Tyree’s great-grandfather Robert Terel came to America from England, looking for a place where he could have land of his own. He was one of the first white men to settle in the Cumberland Valley. He took a Cherokee Indian girl as his wife, and together they built a log cabin and raised a family. Robert had received an education in England and wanted his children educated, also. There were no schools in the wilderness so he taught them himself. Each subsequent generation of Terels followed that tradition. Robert was a man who knew the value of good soil, and he established his farm on river-bottom land. It was one of the best in the valley. Ty and his father added to the home by building extra rooms and putting saw-cut boards on the floors. They extended the porch across the front of the house and hung swings from the rafters.

  Ty’s father Drew had been reluctant to join the army because he didn’t believe in slavery. His friends urged him to join saying the South needed him. Finally he agreed, but before he left, he told Ty, “You must stay home and take care of your mother and sister.”

  * * *

  Four years had passed. Tyree was a boy when Drew left, but he is eighteen now, and he is tall, strong, and wide through the shoulders. Even though he is big, he moves smoothly. His blue eyes and lightly tanned skin stand out in contrast to his black hair that shows traces of his Cherokee ancestry.

  All of the work he and his father had been doing fell upon Ty, so he worked from first light until it was too dark to see. The other young men had already joined the Confederacy and some criticized Ty for not joining. He would have joined, if his father had not been firm when he told him to stay home.

  Each morning after completing his chores, Ty built a fire and put water on to boil. He then caught and cleaned a few chickens that Ruth and Addie cut into pieces to make soup.

  They added whatever vegetables they could find. It wasn’t fancy, but it was nourishing. The soldiers appreciated the soup saying it was the first hot food they had had in days.

  Ruth asked every passing soldier for information about a Captain Drew Terel. Yesterday, a Confederate officer told her that Captain Terel was last seen leading his troop into Georgia. The people of the Cumberland Valley heard that many men had died defending Atlanta, but nothing was said about Captain Terel and his men. News often took weeks to reach the backcountry.

  * * *

  When Drew and Ruth married,
Ruth was the prettiest girl in the valley. Addie inherited her mother’s golden hair and flashing blue eyes. Men competed for Addie’s attention, but she favored a tall, handsome, young Frenchman named Beau Fontainne. Beau had left to fight for the Confederacy about a month before the war ended. He also had not returned.

  Addie was confident that Beau would return, but Ruth was becoming unsure about Drew. She watched anxiously, and as each man came into view she prayed it would be her husband. She had smiled when she heard that the war had ended, but the smile faded as the days and weeks passed with no sign of Drew. Months had passed since she received her last letter. In the letter Drew had expressed his love for her and the children and said he was a captain now. The letter was signed, ‘Your loving husband, Drew.’

  One evening after supper, Ty sat in one of the swings listening to the whippoorwills. Ruth and Addie came and sat with him.

  After sitting for a few minutes, Ruth said, “Ty, I want you to find your father. I’m afraid something’s happened to him. It’s not like him to delay coming home. He might be lying somewhere wounded. If he’s alive, find him and bring him home. If he’s been killed, we need to know.”

  “I’d like to go, Mother, but I promised Father I’d stay here with you and Addie.”

  “I know you promised, and you’re a good son, but your father might be hurt and needing your help. Addie and I can take care of ourselves. If we need help, the soldiers will lend a hand.”

  “All right, Mother, I’m worried about Father, too. Tomorrow morning, after I get my chores done, I’ll saddle Ol’ Blaze and be on my way. She’s the fastest and best of our horses. I won’t take a pack animal; I’ll travel light. But I can’t help worrying about you and Addie. There are stories of carpetbaggers moving in and taking whatever land they want.”

  “What are carpetbaggers, Ty?” Addie asked.

  “Carpetbaggers are people from up north who know that the Yankee government is levying taxes on land that belongs to the southerners. They won’t accept Confederate money as payment, so the owners can’t pay the taxes. Carpetbaggers are paying the taxes and taking the land and, in some instances, killing whoever stands in their way. They have the Union Army to protect them. They’re called carpetbaggers because they carry their belongings in bags made from carpets,” Ty explained.

  “There’s lots of trouble in the world,” Ruth agreed, “so take your guns to protect yourself. People may try to steal your horse, so camp away from the road. I’ll pack coffee, cornmeal, flour, and also salt pork to use as seasoning. You can shoot game for meat. Take canvas for a tent, and take your bedroll to keep warm. You’ve had good training for living off the land, so you’ll do fine.” She looked at her son lovingly. “You’d better go to bed now and get a good night’s sleep.”

  Ty got up; the boards of the porch creaked as he walked to the front door. “I’ll fix that when I get back,” he said.

  “We’ve all been too busy to take care of the little things,” Ruth replied. “We’ll get everything under control as soon as your father gets home.”

  “Good night, Ty,” Addie said as she jumped up from her swing and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning. I hate for you to go, and yet I’m glad you’re going because I want to see Father again, and I know you’ll bring him home. If you see Beau along the way, tell him I miss him.”

  Next morning, after his chores were done and the men fed, Ty saddled Ol’ Blaze and brought her around to the front of the house where his mother and Addie were waiting. Ruth had packed food and while putting it in his saddlebags said, “In his last letter, your father wrote that he was leading his men into Georgia. I think Atlanta is the first place you should look.”

  “It’ll take me about two weeks to get to Atlanta. If I can find Father—and if he is able to travel—we should be home in time to harvest the corn. If I’m not back by the end of September, you’ll know that Father was not in Atlanta, and that I’ve gone somewhere else in search of him. Remember, there’s a loaded gun over the door. Don’t hesitate to use it.” Ty hugged his mother and Addie, mounted his horse, and started down the road. When he got to the grove of trees, he looked back. They were still standing on the porch, waving. He waved back and then rode into the trees.

  It was hot. It hadn’t rained for days and dust rose from Blaze’s hooves as she plodded along. Mockingbirds sang in the trees, and wildflowers bloomed in the meadows. The mountains showed no signs of the violent struggle that had been going on in this land for the last four years. Ty saw fewer and fewer soldiers going north, and he asked each of them for information about Captain Terel, but no one knew anything about his father.

  * * *

  Farther south he saw people camped under makeshift sheds beside their burned-out houses. It was a pitiful sight, but even more pitiful were the freed slaves. They were free, but they had no place to go and no food to eat. They lived huddled beside streams, under bridges, and in crude shelters. Taking pity on them, Ty rode into the woods, shot a deer, and gave it to the group he had just passed.

  A big man, who seemed to be in charge, asked, “Would you like to eat with us?” Seeing anger and mistrust on some of the other men who were eyeing his horse, Ty said, “No, thank you; I’ve got a mission to complete.” The older man recognized Ty’s act of kindness and also understood his true reason for declining.

  After riding on for several miles, Ty turned off the road and camped by a little stream in a heavily wooded area. He built a fire and cooked his meal. After eating, he gathered mud and rubbed it on Blaze to hide her white hair. He sat for a while listening to the sounds of tree branches rustling in the night breeze, then made a hammock by tying his saddle blanket between two trees, and went to sleep.

  He didn’t know how long he had been asleep when Blaze nudged him. Quickly rolling out of his hammock, he grabbed his revolver and crouched beside a tree, waiting silently.... Nothing. Then he heard a faint sound of branches moving. Still he waited. Was it the wind or an animal brushing against a tree? Blaze looked in the direction of the noise and her nostrils flared. A hand reached out from the brush and grabbed her rope. A crunch sounded behind him, letting Ty know that there were at least two of them. The night was dark and the hand that reached out from the brush was dark. They’re probably the freed slaves from the camp I just passed.

  “I’m armed!” Ty yelled, hoping to frighten them. “I don’t want to hurt anybody, but I can’t let you steal my horse. I’ll kill you if I have to.”

  The hand released Blaze’s rope, and Ty heard men scurrying away. Remaining crouched beside the tree, he watched Blaze. She was looking in the direction of the retreating sound. When she quieted down, Ty climbed back into his hammock, but this time he slept with his revolver handy.

  Awaking before dawn, he made a pot of coffee, fried a pan of bread, ate, and rode south, passing destroyed cotton and corn fields. He was shocked to see that they had been left untended and there was nothing growing.

  A few people—afraid of the freed slaves—had boarded themselves inside their homes. They had good reason to be afraid—the slaves were desperate, and desperation drives people to do things they wouldn’t do under ordinary circumstances.

  Sherman’s Army had destroyed the land and stripped it of everything of value. The only emotions expressed, by either blacks or whites, were anger, fear, and hatred. The war had ended, but it would be many years before the South recovered. Carpetbaggers, riding in fancy buggies, drawn by fancy horses, were moving in and they had nothing but contempt for the people they preyed upon. The Southerners had suffered badly and had a seething hatred for anyone or anything from up North. It was a dangerous time. The army tried to maintain order, but whenever there was a dispute between a southerner and a carpetbagger, the army usually came down on the side of the carpetbaggers. Ty had a job to do, so he avoided becoming involved.

  Chapter 2

  Atlanta was in shambles, but people were trying to clean up the debris and rebuild. Knowing that his fath
er would have returned home if he could, Ty figured that the only reason preventing his father from returning was if he were wounded and in a hospital.

  He asked a man, “Where can I find the Confederate hospital?”

  “There ain’t no Confederate hospital anymore,” a tired, sad-looking man replied. “The Union Army took over the ol’ hospital that used to be down by the railroad and moved all the dying men to a new location west of town.”

  “Why do you refer to them as dying men?” Ty asked.

  “Let me tell you something, young man. There ain’t been a man walk outta that hospital since the Yankees took it over. We see’em carryin’ bodies out all the time, but we ain’t seen none walkin’ out. The men who could walk left the hospital before the Yankees took over. If the man you’re lookin’ for is in that hospital, he probably don’t have much chance of livin’. You’d better hope he ain’t there.”

  “Can you tell me how to find this Yankee hospital?”

  “Yeah, jes follow the main road west outta town. You won’t have to see the hospital to find it; you’ll smell the gangrene long before you get there.”

  Ty thanked the man and rode away, feeling apprehensive. Have I waited too long? After riding west for a few miles, he noticed an unpleasant odor, and in the valley ahead saw a small building surrounded by an assortment of tents. He asked a man standing beside the road, “Is that the hospital?”

  “Yep, but I’m not sure it should be called a hospital. I went in there looking for my wife’s brother, and I hope I never have to go in there again.”

  “How do I get in?” Ty asked.

  “The front gate is right beside the road. Jes’ walk in. Nobody’s going to stop you. I suggest you pay the sentry to watch your horse. Somebody will steal her if you don’t.”