Miss Martha was not as enthusiastic about Johnny’s work as her sister was, although I think she may have been secretly very happy about it. However she did at first refuse to allow him to cut the weeds around the Shrine of Eros. Johnny brought it up rather offhandedly on about the third or fourth outside morning when Miss Martha had come over from the kitchen garden to see how we were getting on.
“I’ll be getting down to the end of the path here in a day or two,” he said, “and I’ll have that little Greek house down there fit to shelter old Homer himself if he should ever drop by of an afternoon.”
“I don’t think you need bother,” Miss Martha said. “I plan to have that structure torn down one of these days. Meanwhile we’ll let the weeds cover it.”
“Why now,” Johnny protested, “it’s a nice little addition to this kind of garden. I’d only need to cut away the weeds and trim the vines and give the whole thing a good going over with a bit of whitewash.”
“I said you needn’t bother,” Miss Martha told him sharply.
Johnny paused and studied her and then decided, wisely, not to press the point.
“Yes ma’am,” he said, smiling faintly and giving her that little bow with which he always surrendered an argument and which some people later came to describe as mocking, but I don’t think he ever intended it to be mocking at all. I think he was always only trying to be polite.
I decided then to offer an alternative. “Rather than destroy the little building entirely,” I said, “you could just remove the statue and make the house a kind of feeding and resting place for birds and squirrels and rabbits and so forth. Why don’t you consider that, Miss Martha?”
Miss Martha chose to ignore my suggestion. “Miss,” she said coldly, “if Corporal McBurney has nothing more for you to do here today, you may return to your row in the other garden or else go inside and review your lessons.”
“Oh Corporal McBurney has a lot of work for me, Miss Martha,” I said. “Tell her all the things you want me to do, Johnny.”
“Well her most important duties,” said Johnny grinning, “are the guiding of my clumsy feet away from bird’s nests and keeping my spade from decapitating friendly worms. That plus keeping me company and being nice to me.”
“Are we not all being nice to you, Mister McBurney?” Miss Martha asked him.
“Yes ma’am, of course you are. I could ask for no nicer or more friendly treatment than what I’ve been given here. Even if I had been cared for behind my own lines, I could have asked for nothing better.”
Miss Martha, pleased with this answer, went back to her own work then in the kitchen garden. When she was out of earshot, Johnny said, “I didn’t tell her, but the main reason I like to have you helping me is because I consider you my best friend in this place.”
Well those words affected me so much that for a moment I couldn’t answer him. “Do you really mean it?” was the best I could finally manage.
“To be sure I mean it,” he laughed. “Do I ever say anything I don’t mean? Well of course I do, Amelia . . . hundreds of things . . . it’s my nature. But not to you, Amelia. Remember that, my girl. I will never be anything but sincere with you. You saved my life, so the least I can do is be honest with you. Now then, no more wasting time on idle compliments. Let’s get on with these hedges.”
Which we did. I should say here that Miss Martha had very kindly granted me permission to work with Johnny for a while instead of in the kitchen garden, and I must also add that every other student in the school besieged Miss Martha immediately for permission to do likewise, but no more transfers from the kitchen garden to the flower garden were allowed. This caused some ill feeling toward me, I can tell you, even from such people as my own roommate who had boasted earlier that she would not volunteer to work with Corporal McBurney even if Miss Martha offered wages. But then, not surprisingly, she was the first one to try to join us in the flower garden on the morning right after my transfer was announced.
Furthermore, when Miss Martha told her to pick up her hoe and get back to her own row, Marie, in one of her terrible fits of temper, swung her hoe so hard that she chopped two whole stalks of corn right off at the roots and when Miss Harriet remonstrated with her about this, she just threw her hoe away and walked up and down several rows, kicking and hitting at corn and peas and sweet potato vines, until Mattie finally caught her by the ear and led her into the house where Miss Martha, following after, banished her to her room for the rest of the morning, and also sentenced her to three more days of going without her dinner, which, of course, is practically routine for Miss Marie Deveraux.
Anyway Marie was not the only one to become jealous over my new assignment, although none of the other girls protested as violently as she did—or at least they didn’t in public. Both Alice and Emily, however, took to pinching me and pulling my hair whenever they caught me in a hallway or on the stairs, and Edwina told me in private that she considered me the most common kind of sneak who had arisen early on Corporal McBurney’s first outside morning just to tell him a lot of lies about her. Truthfully, I had done nothing of the kind. In fact I almost never discussed Edwina with Johnny at all unless he asked about her and on those occasions I would try to answer him as briefly as possible.
Actually he did ask about her quite often because right from the beginning he was very interested in Edwina. And even when he wasn’t inquiring about her, he was usually watching her as she worked on her row in the vegetable garden.
Edwina usually pretended to be unaware of this but in actual fact she wasn’t. She always knew when he was staring because I noticed her glancing sideways at him now and then, although she never smiled or waved at him as Alice Simms was continually doing. And oddly enough, the more Johnny’s interest in her increased, the more Edwina openly ignored him. During his first days with us, she had visited him in the parlor several times a day just like the rest of us, but once she sensed he was attracted to her she began to act—at least in public—as though he didn’t exist at all. That, I think, is a very strange human reaction for which you can find no parallel in the animal kingdom.
Of course there still wasn’t much time in the day for anyone to have a private meeting with Johnny. Classes always begin immediately after gardening period and once our books are open for the day it just seems that every single minute is occupied. Even when we did have a moment or two free from schoolwork it was always a case of everyone being free in a body and at those times each person’s first thought was to go and see how Johnny McBurney was getting along.
As for Johnny himself, he was not restricted, as far as I know, once he was able to hobble around on his leg. It seemed that once Miss Martha had made up her mind that he could be trusted, she allowed him to have the run of the house, or at least the downstairs part of it.
By that time the battle had moved away from us, down around Spotsylvania and beyond, and if there were Union troops still in this vicinity they must have been avoiding the nearby roads. We never saw any more soldiers of any kind around the school and according to Emily Stevenson who had pondered the situation, it was quite likely that we never would because, as she explained it, there was nothing of any military importance in our neighborhood.
Well we were quite content to accept that. With the war gone away from us and likely to stay away, there was every day less reason to connect Johnny McBurney with it. It was becoming very easy for everyone to forget that he had ever been our enemy. I’m speaking now of those who may have felt that way in the beginning. As I have said already, I regarded him as a friend right from the start.
Also when he declared that I was his best friend at the school, I truly believed him, and that in spite of knowing of his interest in Edwina Morrow. Because I knew that the way he might have felt about her was entirely different from the way he felt about me.
I knew that when boys become a certain age they develop a biological interest in
females which is very similar to the mating instincts of all animals. If Johnny McBurney had those kind of biological feelings about Edwina Morrow, I knew that he couldn’t help it. From a scientific point of view it was only natural and maybe even proper for him to be that way.
Therefore there was no reason for me to be jealous about it. I wasn’t old enough or pretty enough to stimulate the same kind of feelings in him, and I did have his friendship and his trust which to me was worth a whole lot more than just a common mating instinct.
Of course one thing that was troubling me even more than his biological urges was the worry over the coming time when his leg would be completely healed and he would have to go away. And I think this problem was on Johnny’s mind too.
Even though his leg was much improved he was still residing in the parlor. A place could have been made for him upstairs, I suppose, but he knew that Miss Martha preferred that he remain on the first floor and so he never suggested any other arrangement. Also I think he felt that as long as he continued to occupy his original quarters he might still be thought of as our patient. Once he moved upstairs or elsewhere, he might be considered discharged as cured and there would seem to be no further reason for his staying on at the school.
In fact only a while ago Miss Martha reminded me of a brief conversation she had with Johnny which I think took place toward the middle of his third week here. It was late one afternoon after last class and I had managed by some miracle to have a moment alone with him. We were discussing our plans for the following day in the garden, although to tell the truth there wasn’t a great deal left to be done. We had worked very hard for several mornings and, of course, Johnny was continuing by himself all day while I was occupied with my studies.
However I had noticed him dawdling a bit for a day or two especially in the afternoons. It might have been because his leg was bothering him but I suspected it was more because he was trying to make the work last longer. Apparently Miss Martha had noticed it too because on that afternoon she entered the parlor and came over to the settee where we were seated and in her usual direct fashion asked him about it.
“I was wondering,” she said, not being at all unkind about it. “I saw you on the bench in the arbor this afternoon reading a book.”
“This Shakespeare,” said Johnny, producing it. “Is it all right?”
“Certainly, it’s all right,” declared Miss Martha. “I’m very glad to see you have a taste for books. You may feel free to browse in the library and take any book you please. My concern now is for your leg. I thought perhaps you were resting on the bench this afternoon because the leg was bothering you.”
“It twinges a bit now and again,” Johnny admitted.
“I would expect it to do so. You may recall that I was opposed to your walking on it as soon as you did.” Miss Martha had stooped down and was unbandaging the leg as she spoke. “However I can appreciate your desire to be active. I suppose I would have rebelled myself at your age at the prospects of being confined to a bed. In any case, outside of a very dirty bandage, there doesn’t seem to be too much wrong here. You haven’t done the leg any fresh injury as far as I can see. The stitches seem to be holding properly and the wound is healing nicely. Perhaps we can take that thread out in a day or two.”
“When do you think I will be entirely recovered?” Johnny asked her.
“I suppose it is a matter of opinion,” Miss Martha said. “Although you are probably still a bit weak from the blood you lost, some people might say you are recovered now, as long as you can walk and stand for more than an hour on the leg.”
“Oh but I favor it,” said Johnny. “I don’t put any weight on it. I could never do any marching for a good while yet, at least not any quick marching. Oh maybe I could do a slow hundred yards or so but I could never walk a mile on that leg yet.”
“Nevertheless, I’m sure that if you were being attended by your own army surgeons they would pronounce you fit to return to duty. Very likely they would not have allowed you to walk at all with stitches in your leg, but once you were able to stand and get about on it. I don’t think you would have remained hospitalized very long.”
“So you’d like me to leave, would you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Surely not. You’re too polite a lady, I guess, to be so blunt about it.”
“I am as blunt as I need to be, Mister McBurney, as you should know by now. Since you bring it up yourself I will tell you that I think your leg is healed enough for you to leave here by the end of this week. Let us say by Saturday.”
“That’s four days from now.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“Where would I go?”
“I’m afraid it is entirely your business where you go, Mister McBurney. However I should think you might find columns of your own troops on the Brock Road since that connects with the main road to Richmond.”
“I don’t know if I could walk as far as that Brock Road or not.”
“I can take you in the pony cart.”
“That’s a deal of trouble for you, Miss Martha, which could all be avoided in another week or so. I certainly wouldn’t mind the walking if I was only feeling up to it. Also there’s the work in the flower garden. I’m not nearly finished out there yet.”
“You’ve done enough. What’s left I’m sure the girls can finish.”
“That garden should have continual care. What you need is a full-time gardener here.”
“Perhaps we need one but I expect we can do without one in these times.”
“Could I please stay for only another week, Miss Martha,” Johnny asked her then. He was so forlorn-looking and his lip was trembling so I thought he was about to burst into tears and I must admit I was very close to joining him.
“I’m sorry,” Miss Martha said, “but I really don’t see any reason for it. At the risk of seeming uncharitable, I just don’t feel there is any more we can do for you.”
“Maybe there is,” Johnny said, “but it wouldn’t come under the heading of charity, or nursing care either. I do sound ungrateful, don’t I. Instead of begging to stay longer, I should be thanking you for keeping me this long.”
“There’s no need for thanks,” she told him. “I’ve given you no more than I would have any helpless stranger.”
“That’s the rub, isn’t it,” he answered. “It’s a pity, isn’t it, that I couldn’t have remained helpless.”
Miss Martha made no reply to this, but only stared at him for a brief moment longer, then picked up her skirts and went out. Now the question is, what did Johnny McBurney mean by those last words? Miss Martha remembers the whole conversation about as well as I do, but she is now taking Johnny’s last words on that occasion to mean that he really felt sorry that he wasn’t still helpless. On the other hand I think I knew Johnny McBurney about as well as anyone in this house. I was sitting on the settee right beside him on that afternoon and I can recall the bitter tone in which he expressed those words. It was in the same way as unhappy people will sometimes say, “Oh I wish I were dead,” or “I just wish I had never been born.” They don’t really mean those things and I don’t think Johnny meant what he said either. I do know for an absolute certainty that the ability to walk and run and move about as he pleased was just about the most important thing in Johnny’s life.
Well after Miss Martha had gone I remained with him for a few moments trying to think of something to say that might lift his spirits. However, since I was feeling as badly about the fact of his having to leave as he was, I guess I wasn’t much comfort to him.
“It’s very possible that Miss Martha will change her mind by the end of the week,” was one thing that I told him.
“I doubt it very much,” he answered. “And when you come right down to it she’s probably right. I’m out of place here. I don’t belong in this school and if I stay there’s liable to b
e trouble.”
“What sort of trouble?”
“The kind you might expect when a fella like myself is let loose in a flock of pretty girls.”
“We’re not all pretty.”
“Yes, you are,” he said, laughing suddenly, “every last one of you. And you’re the prettiest of the lot, Amelia my darlin.”
Well that was a very extravagant statement for anyone to make, even Johnny McBurney, but it was also a very nice one. Of course I knew that he didn’t really believe it any more than I did, but I also knew that since there was nothing in the world he wanted from me—with the possible exception of my friendship, and he had that as a free gift without any necessity of purchasing it—it was a most kind and generous remark and yet, perversely, I didn’t appreciate it at that time.
“If you really think you might get into difficulties here, Johnny,” I said, “then perhaps it would be better if you leave in a few days.” I didn’t mean that at all but I said it anyway.
“The thing I don’t like about it,” he went on as though he hadn’t heard me, “is the being asked to go. When I leave somewhere I prefer to make my exit at my own time and on my own terms.”
“Then maybe you should leave before the week is up.” I didn’t mean that either but for some reason I just couldn’t prevent myself from being spiteful.
And Johnny answered, taking me seriously, “I think you’re right, Amelia. Maybe I should just take my leave of this place tomorrow or the day after before the time expires on the old lady’s eviction notice. Just put on my cap, I will, and go out the door and down the road. I wouldn’t want you to think I didn’t appreciate how good you’ve all been to me, but I think it might be the best way to do it after all.”
The Beguiled Page 21
