Escape by Night (3 page)

As Tommy considered Red, a nagging thought would not leave his head. And if it was true, it would be serious—life-and-death serious. One way or another, Tommy needed to find out the truth.

 

Tommy walked home from the hospital with his father. Samson glided along beside them.

“Father, remember at the beginning of the war, how excited everyone was, and all the parades on Broad Street?”

“Yes, there was great hope for victory.”

“Well, I don't think war is exciting,” Tommy said. “I think war is terrible.”

“Indeed it is,” said Reverend McKnight. “‘Blessed are the peacemakers' has new meaning for me these days.”

“Father, what happens to Yankee prisoners?”

“Some are traded back to the North in exchange for our men, but most are sent to prison until the war is over.”

“I heard Dr. Harold say there's not enough food and the prisoners are starving,” Tommy said.

“That could be. Food shortages are everywhere.”

Tommy nodded. “Mother sent me out for sugar yesterday, and I couldn't find any.”

“Sugar is about as scarce as a burp in a prayer meeting,” Reverend McKnight said.

Tommy laughed. Reverend McKnight stopped at the steps. “You coming?”

“No, I'm going to stay out here with Samson.”

Reverend McKnight nodded, then his long legs took the steps two at a time, and he disappeared into the house.

Tommy sat on a step while Samson stood alert like a soldier ready to hear the battle plan.

“Samson, I'm thinking about something, and it's serious.”

Samson gave Tommy his full attention.

Tommy lowered his voice. “I'm not sure Red is a Confederate soldier.”

Samson moved closer.

“I know what you're thinking, Samson. What else could he be? Well, I think he might be a … Yankee.”

The word hung in the air, like a cannonball ready to crush them.

“I know he doesn't look like a Yankee,” Tommy said. “But did you hear his accent? He sounds different, like he's not from around here, or not even from the South. And his jacket … I know it's from Mississippi, but it's way too big. And that line in his poem about making the nation whole.
Yankees
want to make the nation whole.”

Samson placed his head in Tommy's lap.

“The whole idea is crazy,” Tommy said. “A Yankee hiding out in Augusta? In First Presbyterian Church? Right across the street from our house!”

Tommy scratched the dog's ears. “Maybe my mind is just running away with me. That's what Mother says. But somehow we have to find out. Are you with me, Samson?”

Samson wagged his tail.

“Good. Tomorrow we'll investigate.”

 

“It is my turn to read,” Annie announced, as if it were a biblical truth.

With her short dark hair parted down the middle, Annie looked like Mrs. McKnight.

“It is Marion's evening to read,” Mrs. McKnight said.

“Marion may be reading tonight, but tomorrow it's my turn, and nobody better try to take my place,” Annie said.

Tommy knew no one in the room was foolish enough to try that.

“What are we reading?” Tommy asked.

“
History of the Covenanters in Scotland
,” Marion said.

Everyone in the family loved those stories. The British government wanted to conquer the Covenanters, who were heroic Christians from Scotland. It was kind of like the Yankees trying to take over the South, Tommy thought.

Reverend McKnight walked in. He turned up the gaslight on the wall. “Tommy, I found this outside.” He held up a baseball. “With all the refugees in town, things are likely to disappear.”

Reverend McKnight pretended to be a pitcher. His long legs and arms whirled around like a windmill as he tossed the ball to Tommy. Tommy caught it and Reverend McKnight yelled, “Out!”

“Joseph,” Mrs. McKnight said, suppressing a laugh.

“We couldn't let the runner get to first,” he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. “Marion, you better get us started before the runner heads to second.”

Marion smoothed back her ringlets, then began reading in a soft, tension-filled voice.

Tommy had chosen a seat by the window. It was not the most comfortable seat in the room, but he could see the church. Samson curled up under the chair.

The family listened as the Covenanters scattered throughout the countryside.

Tommy turned his attention to the church. The corner of the churchyard appeared to be filled with fireflies, more than Tommy had ever seen, flashing their lights on and off, on and off. He looked closer. It was only a few of the hospital patients standing outside smoking their cigarettes.

“Bang!” Marion yelled as a Covenanter shot a government soldier.

Tommy wished he could be like the Covenanters—heroic and brave. If Red really was a Yankee, Tommy could expose him and be a hero. He imagined Robert E. Lee stepping off a train at the Augusta depot and shaking Tommy's hand while the citizens of Augusta cheered.

With great feeling, Marion read the final words of a soldier to the minister: “You owe your life to this mountain.”

Then, in a perfect minister's voice, Marion read the reply. “Rather, sir, to that God that made this mountain.”

Marion closed the book and said, “The end.”

“Marion, that's not the end,” Reverend McKnight said.

“Well, I want a happy ending. A book is the only place to find a happy ending nowadays.”

“Yes,” Annie said. “The war is ruining everything. You have to wait in line forever at the store, and then they don't have half of what you want.”

“When the war started, everyone said it would not last more than two months,” Marion said. “It has been going on for over two years!”

“Father, how is the war going?” Tommy asked.

They could tell by Reverend McKnight's face it was not good.

“The Yankees are almost in Georgia.”

Marion threw up her hands. “Next thing you know, they'll be in Augusta!”

Tommy held his breath.

“Is there news from Atlanta?” Mrs. McKnight asked.

“The fighting is in the mountains now. If the North is victorious there, I fear the entire state will be lost. And if Georgia is lost, the Confederacy can scarcely survive.”

Mrs. McKnight gasped.

“You mean we might lose?” Tommy asked. This was something he had never considered. It was one of those impossibilities, like flying horses.

Marion straightened in her chair. “We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed. That's Second Corinthians.”

“Very good,” Reverend McKnight said.

Tommy glanced out the window again at the church. He felt troubled on every side, and distressed too.

 

Tommy stood at the entrance to the sanctuary with Samson and Annie.

“We have to get rid of Annie,” he whispered to Samson.

“Don't talk behind my back,” warned Annie. “I have very good hearing.”

Tommy spotted Mrs. Williams and waved. She bustled over.

“Tommy, that soldier friend of yours still isn't talking, at least not to the white folks.”

“What soldier friend?” Annie asked.

“No one,” Tommy said.

Mrs. Williams pointed across the room. “See, he's talking to Henry again. Tommy, go tell Henry to get back to work.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Tommy said.

Mrs. Williams led Annie away. “There's a soldier I want you to read to.”

Tommy made his way across the room. He could see Henry and Red talking intently, like they were planning some major battle strategy.

Henry hopped up when he saw Tommy. “I best be gettin' back to work,” Henry said.

Tommy thought Henry looked nervous, but decided it was because he had been caught talking instead of working.

“Take a seat,” Red said to Tommy.

Tommy searched Red's face for some sign that he was a Yankee, but saw nothing.

Red grimaced and rubbed his upper arm briskly. “My stump sure hurts, but I'm better off than most.” Red wiggled his right fingers to show their vitality.

Tommy noticed Annie several rows over, reading to a soldier who looked asleep.

“You're quiet today,” Red said.

“Just thinking,” Tommy said.

“About what?”

“I was wondering why you wouldn't talk to my father.”

“I didn't feel much like talking. That's all.”

“I'd like to hear more from your book,” Tommy said. “Unless there are things in there you'd rather me
not
hear.”

Red studied Tommy. “No, I'll read more, but like I said, I put a trust in the people to whom I read.”

Red reached for the book, but it had fallen on the opposite side of the cot.

“Samson,
fetch
the book,” Tommy said.

Samson went around the cot, picked up the book, and offered it to Red.

“Smart dog,” Red said.

“Watch this,” Tommy said. He turned to face the dog. “If you want to hear Red read,
bark.
”