The Pirate and the Soldier Boy

Chapter 18

The army barracks were cold and unwelcoming. They always had been. No matter the time of year there always seemed to be a chill about the place. It had always bothered Sam. In the midst of peace time, there wasn't much to do. Most just lay on their bunks, as he did, and suffered the cold, reading books, drawing on the bunk above them, or doing nothing at all. Some played cards, the squares of paper limp in their hands from years of continued use. Even though Sam didn't gamble, he was tempted to join in. There was nothing left to read on the underside of the bunk above him.

He swung his feet out and placed them on the ladder to the floor, boots still on. Jumping from the second rung up, they slapped the floor quietly. He tugged on his new jacket, collar and cuffs still stiff and starched. Walking past the card players he opened the door, sending a gust of wind over their table, stirring the cards in the middle. One older man grunted and straightened the center card, but nothing was said.

The night air blew in a strong wind that night, and as Sam stared toward the office of the general he buttoned his jacket and walked quickly. Pounding on the door, it opened almost instantly, as if someone had been on the way out themselves. Stepping aside respectfully as the figure hurried out, Sam walked in the open door. The man sitting at a simple desk in the center of the room beckoned him forward, and Sam started talking. "General Whitman, Sir, I-"

He was cut off by the general speaking. "Carpenter! Good to see you. I'll let you finish what you were saying, but first I need you to take this letter. When you get back to your barracks, read it to the troops. We are moving out tomorrow."

Sam stayed silent, as it was obvious the general was not quite done. His booming voice sounded again. "Seems there's been some trouble off coast. A slave ship, to be precise. And some piracy. Best to stomp out that bonfire before it starts. Those lowlifes need to be taught a lesson, or they'll start sprouting up like aspens in spring time."

Sam let him ramble on for a bit longer. If General Whitman was cut off in his verbal abuse of these "lowlifes", he could get quite sullen. And besides. Sam needed to think. Pirates always made him think. A year ago, it had all been negative. For the last few months, however, it had been entirely focused on one figure. And he realized none of it was bad. He made himself stop thinking suddenly as the general's conversation turned back to him. "Well, Carpenter, what did you want to tell me?"

A faint smile graced the young soldier's face. "It is irrelevant now sir."

He saluted and then left. As he wandered back to the barracks, his train of thought picked up until it was running fast enough to power a saw mill. None of his thoughts in the one direction were malicious. Just, he realized, stricken. Amazed at this figure who had so easily changed his entire life. At her blonde hair as she twirled in circles, her laugh, her brown eyes. Her strong determination. The faint smile that hadn't yet left his face grew wider and he spun in a circle as he walked.

As Sam patted the pocket of his jacket he felt two letters. One given to him by the general. The other, his formal letter of resignation from the army, intended for the general not five minutes ago. He pulled it out and dropped it in a small cooking fire as he passed. It was no longer needed. Not when there was a chance. Even just a small chance of seeing her. He realized it then. A chance of seeing the woman he loved. Carmen.