Lost Cause

by J. R. Ayers

  The meeting concluded and Jack headed over to the mess tent for a late breakfast. A fine rain was falling and a cool wind was still blowing out of the north making it quite uncomfortable to be outdoors. There were many houses beyond the camp where the citizens of Laredo lived their lives separate from the war. Most made their living in the cotton trade handling the large shipments that came by wagon or train from Austin and San Antonio and Dallas. Merchants in Laredo stored the bundles of raw cotton and sugar cane and then later helped Mexican buyers get the merchandise across the Rio Grande into Mexico. The substantial profits from the sale of cotton and sugar cane helped fund the war effort in Texas, Louisiana, and western New Mexico; thus the determination to keep the town out of Union hands.

  A little church sat on a hill above the town its tall white spire mostly shrouded in mist. Jack figured the priest would be taking up residence there, if the local clergy were of a mind to share. If not, Jack knew he’d be comfortable bunking among the men where he could keep a close eye on their souls.

  Laredo was little more than a border village of stone houses surrounded by rolling brown hills speckled with mesquite and black bramble and scattered clumps of Indian grass. Most of the residents were of transplanted Carolina stock with Spanish and indigenous native influence among some of the younger people. But no matter their bloodline, they were all proud Texans and fiercely loyal to the Confederate Cause. Numbering only a few hundred, they were a very important part of the support network the Confederates depended on to keep commerce flowing throughout south Texas.

  The mess tent was mostly empty except for a corporal from the provost office and a fat yellow cat with a round bushy tail that seemed more interested in getting out of the rain than hunting a small rodent for its breakfast. Jack ordered coffee and a couple of biscuits and took a seat near the tent door where he could see the railroad office in the distance. “You think the train from Corpus Christi will be on time?” he asked the corporal.

  “Last I heard,” the corporal said. He went back to his breakfast and Jack sipped his coffee and thought about Marie Hayes and what he would say when he saw her, if he chose to see her at all. He knew he still loved her, but he couldn’t say why. Love was something altogether mysterious to Jack. He knew virtually nothing about it, and yet he sensed it was something uniquely important; something to be cherished and preserved no matter the cost. But knowing that gave him little insight as to how to proceed with Miss Marie Hayes when they again met face to face.

  Jack finished his biscuits and took a walk through the town intending to go back to his quarters, but instead headed over to the rail station. It had stopped raining and the sky was a vibrant blue and the sun shone on the wet railroad tracks with an intensity Jack hadn’t seen in weeks. It seemed the lingering autumn rains had finally moved on to pester the folks in the southeastern part of the state for awhile.

  The train from Corpus Christi arrived two hours after the scheduled time. At first Jack thought Marie Hayes was not onboard, but she finally stepped off the mail car accompanied by a young black boy carrying her cases. She looked very tired, Jack thought, and thinner than he remembered her to be. She was on her way to the rail office when Jack walked up to her and removed his hat. “Hello, Marie,” he said haltingly. She seemed surprised to see him.

  “Jack? You’re here.”

  “I am. How are you?”

  “Fine. Tired. I didn’t expect to ever see you again.”

  “Nor I you.” They fell silent and she looked at the chevrons on his sleeve for a long time.

  “You’re promoted,” she finally said. “That’s good. That’s a good thing for you, Jack.”

  “Unexpected. So, where will you be staying?”

  “With Nurse Mason, I suppose. She wrote me and offered me a room in her quarters. She never mentioned you were here in Laredo.”

  “Ah, well, we’re not exactly on the best of terms. She seems to think I’ve treated you badly somehow.” The young boy shifted the cases in his hands and Marie said,

  “I must be going. Maybe I will see you around the camp sometime?”

  “We’re moving out tomorrow. Back to Brownsville.”

  “Oh. Well. . .”

  “I love you, Marie.” She looked at him, hesitant, her eyes shimmering with tears.

  “But, what about the baby?”

  “I forgive you. I love you and I want to be with you and I don’t care about the past.”

  Although there were a few people about watching them, she threw herself into his arms and kissed him hard on the mouth. A couple of soldiers cheered and two women standing nearby applauded politely.

  “Come with me,” he said taking her case from the boy.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Some place where we can be alone.”

  He took her to a little cantina just off Taylor Street where the locals and the occasional soldier stopped to drink tequila and spend a little time and money on the senoritas. They called it El Casa Gato in Spanish and the Kitty Cat House in English. The place was dark and smoky inside and practically empty. Only a tired looking fat woman behind the bar and two Mexican women dressed scantily for business populated the small room. Jack escorted Marie to a table then went to the bar to order wine. “No wine,” the fat woman said. “Tequila and rum. No wine.”

  “Coffee maybe?”

  “Si.”

  She poured two cups and Jack took them to the table. The two prostitutes were looking at Marie as if she was crazy for being in such a place. She was thinking the same thing about Jack as he sat next to her sipping his coffee. “Jack, what are we doing here?” she asked a moment later.

  “Enjoying each other’s company I hope.”

  “But, Jack, it’s a—”

  “I know, I know. But it was the only place I could think of where we could have a little privacy.”

  “You call this privacy?” Jack looked up and saw the fat woman and the two prostitutes staring at them. He took some money out of his pocket and waved one of the women over to the table. She hesitated a moment and then sauntered over wriggling her generous hips.

  “You want sunthin’?”

  “Yes, a room.” The woman glanced at Marie.”

  “For both of you? I never do no woman before.” Jack shook his head and smiled.

  “No, you misunderstand. I wish to rent your room, not you. I will pay your going rate for an hour.”

  “You want my room, but not me?”

  “That’s right.” She shrugged and put out her hand.

  “Five dollars. But only for half an hour.”

  Jack handed her a five and then dropped another five on the table.

  “That’s to keep things quiet. Comprende?”

  “I never saw a ting.”

  She escorted them to the back of the cantina to a sort hallway and opened the door to her room. It was a very small space with a bed, a mirrored dresser, and a small table containing a wash basin and two towels. “Do not soil the sheet,” she said curtly before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

  Jack immediately took Marie in his arms and she immediately pushed him away. “Can’t we sit here for a minute?” she asked. “I’m very tired from the train ride.” They sat close together on the bed saying nothing for a full minute. Then Jack took her hand and said,

  “We don’t have much time.”

  “But I feel like a whore,” she said looking around the tiny room. “We’re in a whorehouse, Jack. We’re sitting on a whore’s bed.”

  “It’s just a bed,” he said. “We can make it our bed for a while. Don’t you want me anymore, Marie?”

  “Of course I want you. But. . .”

  “Then let me make love to you. Let me show you how much I love you.” He took her by the shoulders and gently laid her on the bed.

  “Please don’t hurt me, Jack,” she whispered. “I can not bear to be hurt again.”

  His hands went to back of her dress fumbling for the buttons. “Never in a
million years,” he said. “Never in a million years.”

  Chapter 35

  Jack left Marie Hayes in Nurse Mason’s care promising to write often. The procession moved out early the next morning with Colonel Ford leading three regiments and Colonel Evans from Corsicana augmenting the force with his two regiments. The procession consisted of twelve cannons, a remuda of seventy-five horses, two dozen mules, several wagons bearing ammunition and dry goods, and three ambulance wagons to transport any future wounded. The infantry stretched out like a gray band amidst the brown and green landscape for at least half a mile. Jack by virtue of his new rank rode a horse in line directly behind Captain Caldwell and the other command officers.

  The road leading south was in rather bad shape because of the recent rain and full of ruts from many wagon wheels and the hooves of many horses. All along both sides of the road were meadows of wheat gone to seed, and barns and small cabins built back into the trees on the bank of Zacate Creek. As the procession rounded a bend in the road, a long valley came into view. The valley was bowl-shaped and when the wind blew across its steep slopes Jack could hear the rustling of cottonwood leaves that had not yet fallen to the ground. Most of the berry bushes and thickets were now all dead for the season and the fields lay barren and littered with several layers of fallen leaves from the nearby trees. Though it was apparent by the wilted and blighted landscape that autumn was in full advent the temperature was pleasantly warm now that the rain had moved on out of the area.

  The road climbed steadily through the plain and up and around the hills where Jack saw meadows and barns and cabins at the edge of the woods facing out across the valley. Here the valley was deeper and when the wind blew the men could hear a plaintive wail, much like the lament of a grieving woman. The mournful sound caused Jack to think of Marie Hayes. She’d cried during their lovemaking and later expressed regret for having acted in such a shameful manner. He told her many times that he loved her and would marry her just as soon as he returned from deployment. His word of promise was all she had to hang on to. He’d once again left her on her own with nothing but the hope that she would someday see him again.

  As the day wore on Jack’s horse continued to navigate the uneven ground with precision, seemingly impervious to the perils of questionable footing. Long shadows crept down the slope of the hills in the distance and the bunch grass and mesquite began to give way to silver blue stem and Juniper. It pleased Jack to see cottonwood and post oak flourishing in the shadow of the low hills and switch grass growing in waves of amber on the northern slope of the valley to the right of the road. Under a canopy of loblolly pines Jack felt comfortable enough to shed his over blouse, having for the moment lost the sense of sadness that had troubled him since starting the journey southward.

  An hour after stopping for a quick midday meal, they started out again and rode through the afternoon until they came to the bottom of a long smooth slope where switch grass and autumn bluestem sprouted in the shadow of the trees. The pines seemed farther apart there and Jack could see the stark contrast of a green valley beyond the shadow of the trees. Switch grass, gone brown with the season, grew along the southern slopes of the hills rolling like ocean waves across the vista upward toward the dwindling tree line. Jack saw several small deer moving through the shadows of the trees and a few wild cattle chewing their cuds in silent indifference on a slope a few yards up ahead.

  They pressed onward, crossing several tiny brooks, and at length came to a place where the road merged with a thoroughfare that showed evidence of considerable travel. Judging by the amount of fresh manure littering the road, several horses had passed along there recently. The road turned eastward sloping gradually away from the tree-lined hills where loblolly pine and juniper wove a tight barrier along the berm of the trail interspersed in spots by winter bluebonnet and black bramble. The moist clay earth had a smell of richness about it triggering memories that had lay dormant in Jack’s memories for many years. He was day dreaming about the sunny fields of home when someone near the front of the procession yelled, “Yankees!” Shots rang out and Colonel Ford was shouting out orders to dismount and the Yankees flooded down the road like an avalanche and Jack was suddenly fighting for his life. The first wave of Union soldiers were Calvary troops who charged the front of the Confederate procession with sabers held high. Colonel Ford’s men met the charge with carbine fire and sabers of their own. A Yankee soldier with a black mustache charged toward Jack and Jack shot him off his horse before he could draw his saber. Then another Yankee surged in his direction and another and Jack soon found himself surrounded by sweating men in dusty blue uniforms intent on taking his life. He fired his carbine then all six shots in his pistol then pulled out his saber and cut the last remaining threat across the face knocking him from his horse. There was frenzied fighting all around him and many men were falling to the ground and horses were screaming and a huge clamor of dust and smoke rose up above the road like a black whirlwind.

  When the smoke cleared the Union forces had withdrawn down the road. Men from both armies lay on the ground like cord wood, some dead, some dying, some, wishing they were dead. Jack climbed down off his horse and staggered to a large rock beside the road and sat down. This will never end, he thought numbly. This butchery will never end. As long as there’s one Yankee soldier left alive in the state of Texas, this bloody business will never come to an end.

  Chapter 36

  By the middle of February, Jack had been back in Brownsville for three months. He had a beard and a belly full of fighting and guard duty and drilling and all things military. He begged his captain for a furlough so he could go see Marie Hayes for a few days and finally the captain relented and granted Jack and Corporal Campbell a one week pass. Campbell had joined the brigade two days after Christmas when the surgeons said his leg had healed sufficiently for him to resume active duty.

  There was quite a bit of boredom and disillusionment among the men, but every week or so an excursion into the hills around Harlingen or San Benito would result in a short skirmish wherein neither side did any significant damage to the other. The sporadic fighting broke the boredom, though, and no one really cared all that much when the order was given to form up for another deployment into the hills.

  Winter had settled nicely over south Texas, in so much as winter could be seen as warm days in the seventies and relatively cool nights in the low fifties. The rains had ended by early November and it remained dry throughout the preceding months. Jack and the men could actually walk on the roads again without sinking up to there ankles in yellow mud. The drill field was packed hard and smooth like iron and the main thoroughfare proceeding through town was overlain with planed logs hauled down from the hills above the south end of town in an effort to provide smoother travel for the wagons and ambulances. All in all it was tolerable duty, but Jack longed to see his sweetheart and the child she was carrying. She’d written him in January announcing the pregnancy, explaining that she wanted to be sure the baby was well formed before announcing the news. It seemed their little liaison in the prostitute’s bed back in Laredo had resulted in more than vows of love and whispered words of passion. He’d written her begging her not to abort the child. She responded by saying he had to marry her as soon as he had the chance. Only then would she agree to carry and bear his child.

  So on February tenth, Jack and Campbell set out for Laredo. They rode horses loaned by the remuda master and carried furlough papers signed by their captain. They made good time, pushing on well past dark before camping for the night. After a meal of beef jerky and hoe cakes, they sat around the camp fire talking.

  “Look at that fox yonder,” Campbell said pointing to a gray fox slinking through the trees just off the road. “When they sleep they wrap their tails around their bodies to keep warm.”

  “That so?” Jack said absently.

  “I always wanted to have a tail like that,” Campbell said. “Keep myself warm on cold nights. Pretend I have a sweet li
ttle thing all snuggled up against me.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I sure miss the touch of a woman. Don’t you, Jack?”

  “That’s Sergeant Jack to you. And yes, I do miss Marie.”

  “At least you have a sweetheart. I still have to pay for it. When there’s any available, that is. I wish ole’ Lupe would bring her girls back. Especially that thick lipped one.”

  “You’ll find a woman of your own, Carl,” Jack said. “Once this war is over, they’ll be plenty of young women looking for a beau. This conflict has taken so many young men. It just doesn’t seem right, does it?”

  “Not having a woman doesn’t seem right. I have needs you know.” Jack shook his head and said,

  “Will you never learn the difference between your lust and the purity of loving a woman for all she is?” Campbell looked confused.

  “I’m not sure I know what that means,” he said.

  “I don’t either, actually. But I’m working on it.”

  “Let’s not talk about it anymore,” Campbell said staring into the fire.”

  “I agree. But not thinking about it, well, that’s a different matter all altogether.”

  They arrived in Laredo the next afternoon and Jack went immediately to the hospital to find Marie Hayes. She was with a patient and Jack had to wait outside until she had finished her rounds. While he waited he thought about what he would say to her. Of course the obvious came to mind; I love you, I’ve missed you so much, I couldn’t wait to see you. But, beyond that, he wasn’t sure what to say, especially when it came to the future.