The Battle Cry of Freedom

CH 2

Pa’s funeral was held early the next morning. I have never been to one before. I’ve always pictured funerals being on somber, rainy days. Today, there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky and the sun was shining. Despite the weather, inside of me was the complete opposite. I held a dark and heavy raincloud hovering over my shattered heart.

All that my mother wanted was to get over with Pa’s death quickly. She had the funereal as soon as she could. Mother didn’t even bother to wear her old mourning clothes or even purchase me any.

After the ceremony, Mother had a few of her lady friends over. I don’t believe the company was for comfort.

Mother was born and raised in London. She traveled her way over to America in her late teens. She was a woman of harsh words when nothing went her way. She wanted to force her pristine mannerisms upon her offspring. Nothing quite satisfied my mother.

When I heard the first knock at the door I headed upstairs to my bedroom. I wanted to avoid any meaningless small talk that goes about when women are seated together.  Not watching where I was going on the staircase, Gracie, my sister, and I collided.

She was visiting for a week while her husband went on a business trip.

“Geez Suzannah, slow down and watch yourself.” She said as she headed downstairs. I grabbed her swiftly.

“C’mon Gracie, lets go. Last night I found a creek out back, knee deep.”

Gracie and I have always gone out back in the woods to find deep enough bodies of water to wade or swim in. She gave up years ago, while I haven’t given up yet.

She shook her head. “No. You need to learn to grow up. You are almost seventeen.” She was quite right about that.

I stood there unable to make eye contact.  Gracie continued, “I’m not a girl anymore, Suzannah. I don’t like to get dirty or go out exploring or -- I’m twenty, an adult. I have a husband. I grew up. And you need to as well.” She spoke elegantly, eyeing the “excitement” down the stairwell.

Gracie looked at me, and then continued downstairs.

“Suzannah?” My mother called from the sitting room.

            I stared downstairs at Gracie’s shadow, so upright. I exhaled sharply and ran to my room.

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I jumped into the bushes below the rooftop. After many years of escaping from my window, I managed not to kill myself. I darted for the fence. I crawled under the bottom of the fence, the peeling white paint falling into my blond hair.

As I said, after years of crawling out my window, I learned from things, including not jumping over the fence. The last couple of attempts, I hung upside down from my dress, until it tore. Mother swore if she needed to call in another tailor again she would give me extra songs to learn on the piano for the week.

I took the short cut to town through the woods my sister and I discovered years back. I looked up at the treetops and the light streaming through the crisp green leaves. As I continued walking, a branch snapped behind me.

“I knew you couldn’t sit with those women, Gr-“ All I saw was a whitetail deer staring cautiously at me. It blinked. I raised an eyebrow sarcastically and curtsied. “Oh. I thought you were my sister… My apologies.”

I could see the outlines of buildings ahead of me. When I stepped onto the street, I wanted to duck back into the forest.

The streets were filled with horse manure and angry towns people. Small clusters of confederate soldiers leaned against the sides of buildings, drinking out of flasks between conversations. They have plagued our town while in the effort for heading forward.

I feigned looking at apples in a cart next to two blabbering middle-aged soldiers.

“Unions better get a kick out of Bobby Lee’s next attack on his agenda.”

“Aye! Damned Yankees gonna be pulling surrenders out their asses.” The other joked. They both laughed obnoxiously.

Another walked over to them, “We can’t be sure though, son. I overheard lieutenant sayin’ the Union are passing through a town over, and shortly too. They know where we at.”

I left the apple cart after they ended their conversation to head to the pub. My attention was turned to a flower girl whose eyes were filled with envy as she watched a few boys play ball in the streets. I walked over to her and held out a penny in my palm.

“What color?” She asked.

“Yellow please.” I bent over to make eye contact with her. “Yellow roses represent freedom.” I looked at the boys.

She got my hint and smiled bashfully. I broke the stem of the rose and placed it in her red braid. “Go play ball, I won’t tell.” I winked. The flower girl giggled and ran off to the game.

I rose back to my height and turned to head home. I felt something crunch under my foot. I looked down and saw a sheet of paper. I picked it up and read the words printed on it.

War Nurses needed

          At least 30 years of age

I folded the paper and sighed.

If I were thirty, there’d be no doubt in my crazy mind I would wanna be a nurse, I’d get to escape the reaching talons of my mother.  I looked in front of me, a Union soldier coughed. He acknowledged me and winked. I gave him a bad look in the eyes. He neared me.

“Hidy, pretty lady.” He glanced at my chest.  I could smell the whiskey on his breath.

“Listen, I may appreciate your service for fighting in Lincoln’s army, but that won’t prevent me from smacking you and your stench outta my sight.”

He smirked and backed away.

“Pleasure, Private.” I nodded.

 I headed through the woods.