The Visitor

Chapter Three

"She's back!" Alice shouted as I locked the door behind me.
Aunt Violet shot up the cellar stares in a rage. "Well just where have you been? Do you know what hour it is? And with all the soldiers milling about?"
"I'm sorry for being past my time but what are you talking about? The soldiers left weeks ago?" The soldiers were back? But who? And how many? Was Peter with them?
"So we thought," Gideon said as he paraded into the front room, holding Walter's old squirrel gun. Though newly cleaned, it was ancient, and I doubted it would do any real damage. "But they're back, all of them."
     "You're exaggerating," I stated flatly and hung my bonnet on a peg beside the door.
     "Not so! I counted the Union today from the cupola! Two corps out there now and five more coming, you wait and see!"
     Lydia rolled her eyes, "what would you know?"
     "More than you! I saw General Buford myself up at the Seminary!"
     Aunt Violet snapped, "hush, all of you! To bed with all of you, and not a bite of supper for anyone! I am ashamed of you all," she called as we trudged up the stairs, "at your age and squabbling when there are two massive armies outside!" 
     Gideon grumbled all the way to his room about the stupidity of girls our age.
     "Emma," Alice whispered softly as I unbuttoned her dress, "what's going to happen?"
     "I don't know," I worried my lip between my front teeth as I searched for a better answer. Sliding my nightgown over my head, I smiled down at her, "but I'm sure we've no reason to worry. So get some sleep."
     She nodded, and crawled into her bed as Lydia blew out the gas lamp. I was awake for hours, listening as best I could for the sounds of soldiers near the house, ready to break in and murder us in our beds. After hours of nothing, I slipped into a fearful, dreamless sleep.
___________
     My eyes snapped open and I sat straight up, expecting a hail of bullets around the house.
     Nothing.
     Just silence and a peaceful grey dawn.
     It was early, but I knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. The fear of a battle raging around the house had left me high strung and wide awake. I washed my face, combed and braided my hair, dressed and tip toed down the stairs. Tying on an apron, I went about my chores at the kitchen range, measuring out flower, cracking eggs, pouring in milk that had already been delivered to the back door. It seemed I wasn't the only one getting an early start.
      "Need any help?"
      I turned to see Lydia in the door way, rubbing her eyes but fully dressed. "Couldn't sleep?" I asked.
      "Not much." She went to a cabinet and took down some plates, checking the fire in the oven, and setting a frying pan of cracked eggs on the stove. I continued to knead the dough in the bread box.
       "It feels like it will be hot today," I mentioned casually.
       She nodded, "this kitchen will be miserable."
      "Crown Him with many crowns," I began cheerfully.
      "The Lamb upon the throne," Lydia followed easily. "Hark! How the heavenly anthem drowns, all music but it's own!"
      A crack resonated softly in my ear, and I turned to inspect the fire as we confined in unison, "Awake my soul and sing..." Even as I stood in front of the fire, I heard the cracking continue. But it was too far away to be coming from the fire. My voice drowned out but Lydia continued, oblivious, "...of Him who died for thee..."
      "Lydia..." I streaked across the room to the window. The cracking was getting louder.
Boom
     Boom
     The noise was low but it was there. "Lydia!" I said again, louder and more desperate.
Boom
      Boom
      I heard the windows begin to shake and the plates rattle on the table.
      "...And hail Him as thy matchless King through all Eternity."
      Fire!
      "Lydia!" I screamed. The earth shook beneath us as we dove under the butcher block table. Windows crashed as stray bullets blew through; right where we had been standing moments before. The smell of sulfur and burning eggs filled the room.
      "They're firing on the house! They're firing on the house!" Lydia screamed.
      "They can't be!" I screamed back, barely hearing myself over the din. But was she right? Would Confederate soldiers really fire on a northern home just to...to prove a point? Surely not.
       Something grabbed my by the heel. Rebel soldiers had stormed the house! I screamed and kicked out, trying to free myself but rolled over to find Aunt Violet,  crawling on the floor and pointing to the cellar door. Fear pounded through my veins and had me rattled until I hit the cellar floor. My hands raked the mostly dirt floor for a lamp and matches. I winced as my nails bent painfully against the base of a gas lap, but I shook it and heard old oil slosh inside.
"Here," Gideon passed me a pack of matches. The light revealed crates stacked against the four stone walls, a few waning or broken chairs, and Alice curled up and sobbing in Gideon's lap. "I just picked her up and ran," he stated.
     "Thank you," I murmured. I was ashamed that in my panic I had completely forgotten about my cousin.
      Another cannon shook the house, causing dust to crumble from the rafters.
     "The house is going to fall down!" Alice shrieked and buried her face in Gideon's shirt.
     "No it won't," Aunt Violet said stiffly, "your great grandfather built this house with his two hands. It won't come down now." I wanted to believe her, but with the quaking of the ground I was sure the whole earth would split in two.
      There was a knock at the door.
      "Don't answer it!" Lydia cried.
       I shook my head and gathered my skirts, "someone has to. Someone could be hurt."
      "Then I'll go with you." Gideon stood, ducking his head from the low ceiling.
      "If you want." I tried to appear nonchalant, and lifted my head confidently to hide the relief I felt having Gideon behind me. We didn't get on terribly well, but my short stature would be no match for whoever was on the other side of the door. Hoof beats pounded frantically by as I gasped and threw wide the door.
      "Jennie!" I snatched her arm and dragged her inside before slamming and bolting the door.
      "Hello," she said calmly, "I was wondering if I could borrow some flour. We're all out."
      "Walking clear through a battleground just for a bit of flour! Jennie you must be crazy." I measured out a generous amount and poured it into a paper bag.
      She shook her head, "I wasn't in any danger. The battle is all out in the northwest, by the cemetery." Gideon's feet shifted behind me. Surely he was wondering if his father's grave had been left undisturbed.
I embraced Jennie, "please be careful." She nodded. A great roar resounded down the street, followed by the cracks and pops of rifle fire.
Jennie took in my stunned expression. "We have no reason to fear them. They won't harm civilians."
"Jennie, please stay here a little while longer. At least until everything settles."
She shook her head, "nothing will settle until they leave, both armies. And my mother can't wait that long for flour."
Jennie opened the door when I made no move to do so and stepped outside. "Thank you!" she called.
A Union officer reigned in his horse right in front of her. "Best get back inside, miss!" He called over the din, "this isn't a place for women!"
She smiled and thanked him for his concern.
"Miss! Please, you're like to be shot!"
She gave him one of her serene smiles, "I'm not afraid."