Fire Over Atlanta (7 page)

“Royal’s coming by. He’ll escort me down to see what we can find. Now, I won’t be leaving you alone. Charlie will be here.”

“Charlie. What an odd name for a young woman.” Mrs. Holcomb shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t know why she persists in calling herself that.”

“I expect that’s just what she likes to be called. I tried to call her Charlene a few times, and she seemed very uncomfortable with it. I’ll have her check on you while Royal and I are getting the groceries.”

When Royal appeared at the door, he was met by Charlie, wearing the same outfit he had seen on her the day she was captured. “Hello, Charlie!” he greeted her. “Is Lori here?”

“Yep! She’s upstairs redd’n up. She sure is lookin’ forward to goin’ with you.”

Charlie’s speech had a country flavor to it. Her cheeks were pink, and there was a cheerfulness about her that pleased Royal. Most girls he knew who had
had Charlie’s troubles would not have handled them so well.

Lori came in at that moment, wearing a light green dress and a straw hat with a flower pinned to the top. “I’m ready, Royal.”

The two started for the door, and Lori remarked as she went out, “Charlie, would you check on Aunt Grace? Be sure that she has all she needs?”

“Sure, I’ll do that,” Charlie agreed.

Lori’s aunt was sitting up in bed reading the Bible that was propped on her lap when Charlie came in.

“Got some lemonade for you, Miss Grace. Not cold, ‘cause we ain’t got no ice, but thought you might like it.”

Mrs. Holcomb put aside the Bible and smiled at the tall girl. “Why, thank you, Charlene.” As she took the glass, she saw that the use of Charlie’s proper name had somehow embarrassed her. Sipping the lemonade, she studied the girl. The old woman’s sharp eyes went over the crisp, curly, brown hair and the clear, large, dark eyes. The overalls she wore were clean, though patched and faded. She noted that the girl had a fine figure, though disguised by her outlandish garb.

“This is very good, Charlene. Did you make some for yourself?”

“Oh, no. I usually drink coffee. Of course, lately we’ve been trying to make coffee out of burnt acorns. Don’t care for that too much.”

“Did you lose all of your possessions in the attack, Charlene?”

“Oh, no. I brought ’em. They’re in the room down the hall where Miss Lori put me.”

“Well … didn’t you have any dresses? I notice you keep on wearing the same overalls every day.”

“Oh, I’ve got a dress, but I don’t care to wear ’em much. Lots easier to get around in overalls than it is in dresses.”

Until now, Mrs. Holcomb had spoken only briefly with the young woman. “Tell me about yourself, Charlene,” she said, doggedly refusing to use what she considered the ugly name of Charlie. “Tell me about your family. You have brothers and sisters?”

“Had two sisters, but they moved off. Me and Pa handled the farm, and they did the cookin’ and the housework when they was home. They was real little, you see, Miss Grace, and I was big and strong.” She nodded proudly. “I can plow as good as most men.”

“I’m sure you can,” she said. “But didn’t you learn how to cook and do housework?”

“Oh, I can cook a steak, I guess. Never did much of the housework though.”

Charlie went on describing her life, which sounded appalling to Mrs. Holcomb.
Poor child
, she thought.
She really doesn’t know the first thing about keeping house. How will she ever in this world make a man a good wife?
Aloud she said cautiously, “I think it would be nice if you would dress up for supper tonight. You know … fix your hair and put on the dress …”

“Oh, I don’t reckon I’ll do that, Miss Grace,” Charlie said carelessly. “Lots of work to do around here. The shells took out some of the fencin’. I been puttin’ it back. And the well curbing got busted too. I got to lay some new curbstones around that if I can get ahold of some cement.”

“Do you know how to do things like that?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am, I do. I done that kind of work all my life. There ain’t nothin’ around a place that I can’t do if I set my mind to it.”

Charlie sat sprawled in her chair in a most unladylike position. She really had none of the feminine graces. For all the striking beauty of her face and attractiveness of her figure, she looked more like a pretty young man than a young woman.

Finally she got up, took the glass from Mrs. Holcomb, and said, “Reckon I’ll go out and chop some wood. Got to sharpen the ax first, though. It’s plumb dull.”

After the girl left, Mrs Holcomb said aloud, “How in the world will she ever survive?” Shaking her head, she picked up the Bible and began reading. After a time she thought of Charlene again, and she prayed a quick, simple prayer. “Lord, make a woman out of that girl. She doesn’t even know that she’s a woman, and she’s headed for some hard times if she doesn’t learn.”

Drake arrived in front of the Holcomb cottage just as the sun was beginning to set. He had come at Lori’s invitation, and he wore his good uniform. Knocking, he hoped fervently that he would have Lori to himself tonight. When the door opened, however, it was not Lori but Charlie Satterfield who stood there.

“Why, howdy, Drake!” she said and stuck out her hand out like a man. “Come on in the house.”

Rather taken off guard, Drake found his hand grasped firmly. Charlie’s handshake, he discovered, was not like a young lady’s but was strong and firm. His hand was pumped up and down, and then he was propelled into the house by a quick jerk.

“Uh … thank you, Charlie,” he mumbled. He noted that she was still wearing overalls. She wore a man’s white shirt, and the brown hair framing her face was very curly.

“Miss Lori’s gettin’ herself all cleaned up,” she announced. “You know Mrs. Holcomb’s got a copper bathtub?”

“No, I didn’t know that,” Drake said as he followed Charlie, who strode with long, purposeful steps to the sitting room.

“Yep, that’s right. I het water for it and filled it up so she could have a good all-over bath.” Charlie waved at a red plush chair and waited until Drake had lowered himself into it. Then she turned a smaller chair around and straddled it. “That’s right,” she said. “It took me about ten trips with a teakettle, but I got it all hetted up. She sure ought to be clean with all that hot water and soap and all that perfume and stuff she uses. Sure is a sight of trouble. Don’t see no need of it myself.”

Drake studied the girl cautiously. He had not spoken with her except for a brief greeting since he had captured her, and now he asked, “Uh … how are you getting along, Charlie?”

“Me? Oh, I’m doin’ fine. I’m helpin’ around the place here, don’t you see? Miss Grace, she ain’t feelin’ well, and Lori, she has to take lots of care of her. So I chop the wood and milk the cow and do everything that needs doin’. Not much work around here though. Back home we had forty acres. Wasn’t nothin’ for me to get up and plow from sunup to sundown.” She teetered back and forth on the chair. “I sure do miss my mules! Buddy and Bob their names were. Best set of mules in the state of Georgia.”

Drake shifted uncomfortably. “Uh … have you made any plans … about what you’re going to do, I mean?”

“Not yet.”

“But you’ll have to sooner or later, won’t you?”

“Guess so, but right now I think I’m just gonna help Miss Lori take care of Miss Grace. Tell me about your soldierin’. Have you ever been shot?”

Drake grinned. “Not yet.”

“That’s good. A fella that lived down the road from us went off to fight the Yankees, and he came back. He had his ear shot plumb off! Just one of ’em though. Didn’t hurt his hearin’ none.”

Charlie carried the bulk of the conversation until Lori came in. She looked sparkling fresh, and she wore a dress that Drake had not seen before. Getting to his feet, he said, “Hello, Lori. My, you’re looking real good tonight.”

“Good to see you, Drake. Would you come on up and meet my aunt?”

“I’d be glad to.”

Drake accompanied Lori upstairs where he met Mrs. Holcomb. But she seemed weak and was unable to entertain them very long. When they left her room, he said with a frown, “She doesn’t look good, Lori.”

Lori’s face was sad. “She’s not doing very well at all. Every day it seems she’s a little weaker.”

“Do you think she’s going to make it?”

“I don’t know. She’s getting on, and she’s had a lot of sickness …” She seemed not to want to talk about her aunt. She said, “What do you think of your prisoner?”

Drake grinned rather feebly. “She’s as good a fella as I’ve ever seen. Does she ever wear anything except overalls?”

“Not that I know of. I’ve tried to get her into a dress. She won’t listen.”

“Well, she’s resourceful enough.”

“Oh, she’s all that. She chops the wood, milks the cow, feeds the chickens. She does all the things that have to be done outside. She’s building a new well wall for us. You ought to see her out there with a trowel, putting those rocks in place.”

Drake said, “Well, I didn’t come to talk about her. I came to talk about us.”

“Come on down to the kitchen, and I’ll give you some apple cake that I made,” Lori said quickly.

The evening did not go as Drake had planned. Charlie came into the kitchen almost at once and did everything but sit between them. When they went into the parlor, Charlie was there. She did not appear at all aware that she was intruding. Her eyes went from Lori to Drake, and from time to time she would ask questions of one or the other. At other times she simply sat, usually with her eyes fixed upon Drake.

When Drake was leaving to go back to camp in disgust, he said to Lori in one private moment snatched out on the porch, “Can’t you get rid of her? She’s always right between us!”

“She’s lonesome, I think,” Lori said.

“Well, I’m lonesome, too,” he muttered. “I wanted to see
you
, not some girl who can’t make up her mind what she is.”

“Good night, Drake. I must go in now.”

He stood looking at the door that slowly closed, then angrily turned away. “I can’t believe that Charlie!”

Drake marched back to camp, a long walk, and found that more of his squad members had learned about his prisoner. They teased him about her until he grew so angry that they finally refrained.

When Drake saw Royal, he said, “Did
you
tell the fellas about Charlie?”

Royal looked up with surprise. “Just that the girl prisoner was living with Lori and her aunt. Why?”

“I just wanted to know. I won’t put up with any ragging about her. You understand me, sergeant?”

“Not from me, Drake. She’s a fine girl, though.”

Drake shook his head. “That may be, but she sure is a pest!”

L
ori became more and more troubled about her aunt. Mrs. Holcomb was failing swiftly, and finally Lori sent for the doctor.

A tall man with a gray beard, Dr. Smith examined his elderly patient and later told Lori privately, “She’s weaker every time I see her. There’s only one end to this I’m afraid, Miss Jenkins.”

Lori had feared that was the case. “Will she die soon, doctor?”

Dr. Smith chewed his lower lip. “Impossible to say. You’ll just have to give her the best care you can. She’s a good Christian woman and ready to go.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve never known anybody more ready to meet death than Aunt Grace.”

After the doctor left, Lori saw Charlie outside splitting wood. She went to the door and called out, “Charlie, come in. I want to talk to you.”

Charlie came inside, her face reddened from exercise. “What is it, Lori?”

“It’s about my aunt. She’s not doing very well.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Couldn’t the doctor give her some medicine?”

“He didn’t think that would help. She’s very old, you know, and it’s just about her time to go.”

Charlie’s face fell. “She’s been talkin’ to me a lot about the Bible. She was real glad to hear I was a Christian.”

“I’m glad to hear it too, Charlie.”

“Yep, I got saved at a revival meetin’ three summers ago. I don’t read too good, but I read the Bible all the time.”

“Sit down, Charlie. I want to talk to you a while.”

“That’s good. I want to talk to you too.”

They sat at the table, and before Lori could speak, Charlie began. “You know, I been thinkin’ a lot about what I want to do. I know you been worried about me, Lori, haven’t you?”

“Well … you seem so alone, Charlie. No family. I
have
been concerned about you. Have you decided on something?”

“Sure have!” Charlie clasped her hands around her knees and rocked back and forth. It was a boyish gesture, but it was somehow winsome in her. “I reckon I’ll get hitched.”

For a moment Lori could not understand what she meant, and then the meaning became clear. “You mean … get married?”

“Sure, that’s what I mean. I’m going to get married.”

Lori could not have been more surprised if Charlie had told her she was going to walk on the moon. “But I didn’t even know you were thinking of getting married!”

Shrugging her shoulders, Charlie said, “I thought about it once or twice, but back home in Macon it didn’t seem to be what I ought to do. There was the farm to take care of, and I had to help Pa with that. But I’m gettin’ pretty old now not to be married. Lots of girls get married when they’re two or three years younger than I am.”

“But who are you going to marry?”

“Oh, I done figured I’d marry up with Drake.”

Lori was totally speechless. She stared at the girl across from her, who could not have understood the enormity of what she was saying. She realized suddenly that Charlene Satterfield had had none of the upbringing that young women usually had. She said carefully, not wanting to hurt Charlie’s feelings, “But Charlie, does Drake know this?”

“Not yet, but I figure to tell him.”

Lori cleared her throat. “That’s not the way it happens.”

“What do you mean, not the way it happens?”

“I mean that young men do the courting, not young women.”

“Oh, sure, I know all about that, but this is different. You see, Lori, when Pa sold the farm, he got it in Federal money, not Confederate. So I’ve got all that, and now whoever marries me, why, he can take it and buy almost any farm he wants.”