Clockwiser (10 page)

When he placed the musket rifle in my hands, I was like a mother being handed her new baby. I fawned it, cradled it, adored it.
I held a brand new 1861 musket rifle
! Come on!

Out in the field, we lined up twenty-five yards away from crude hand drawn man sized paper targets. Another soldier demonstrated the technique. It was a lot to remember. You had to pour the gunpowder into the musket; insert a small, papery cloth called a wadding; then add the musket ball, which you packed down with a long, thin, metal pipe called a ramrod. Then you cocked the hammer halfway, and placed a bit of dry powder called a percussion cup on the pan. Then you aimed and fired.

So, loading the gun was a hundred steps that took half a day. No wonder so many men died. You could get shot twenty times in the time it took to load one musket.

I prepared to take my first shot. I did all the steps, keenly aware that the other guys went through all the steps in half the time it took me. I eyeballed the target, my heart thudding against my ribs. When the command came, I fired. The kickback almost threw me to the ground and the gun powder that exploded around me set me off on a sneezing fit. I’d completely missed my target, not even nicking the paper. I couldn’t believe my aim was that bad.

James laughed like a hyena. “Maybe we could make a trade with the Confederates. You for an old dog or something.”

Willie laughed too, but at least he tried to hold it in. “You’ll get better with practice, Timothy. We all miss the first time around.”

I cleaned the barrel again, and followed the steps. This time when the call came to fire, I was ready for the jerk of the gun. I held my breath until the powder disbursed. I shook my head to clear the blast wondering if I’d be deaf by the time this was over. I scanned my target, then kicked the dirt. Still a miss.

Outside of musket practice, the first day in camp was uneventful. We all had chores and I was assigned to the stable, which, funny enough, I felt quite at home in now.

The guys horsed around as we got ready for bed that night, much like we did at kids camp when I was twelve, only now we had whiskers and underarm hair. James chucked a pillow at Willie, whipping him in the face. Willie returned the pillow with an impressive throw of his own. Henry stayed to himself, reading. I recognized the book. It was identical to the one sitting in my own haversack,
The New Testament.

I managed to get a few hours sleep amongst all the snoring and sighing from other restless sleepers, but I woke with a knot in my back where a major lump in my mattress had been.

The next day I watched as they put a small white tent up in front of the mess hall. A wagon was parked beside it and a civilian carried glass plates from it and into the tent.

“What’s going on?” I asked Willie.

“We’re getting our pictures taken.”

“They have photo technology already?”

Willie squinted and said, “Excuse me?”

“I mean, they can take pictures?”

“Sure. They can take photographs outside now, too. Even though he’s setting up the tent as his studio, that wagon carries all his cameras and chemicals to any spot and converts it into a dark room.”

So that was how we got all those old pictures from the Civil War, courtesy of people like the man in the wagon.

Private Jennings gave us instructions on how to line up, and look serious when the photographer snapped a picture. I went along with it all and presented my most serious soldier expression.

The lieutenant entered the mess hall later that day like a house on fire. “Gentlemen,” he said, his eyes narrowing and jaw tight. “I’ve just heard from General Major Pope. As promised, we will be joining the Mass 13th, already in Virginia. Prepare to leave for Boston in the morning.”

A thrum of nervous excitement moved like a wave through the room. I felt like a giddy five-year old about to be let into the candy store. It was happening, faster than I could’ve hoped.

I was going to war.

Chapter Thirteen

CASEY

Lucinda’s idea made my stomach turn, and that’s why I thought it could work. It was my idea to stop by the costume shop to dress for the event first. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about what I was going to be wearing once I got there.

Lucinda said she had to grab something from home and to meet her at Cambridge Common. Nate and I headed to the store.

The same lady with the deep set eyes and curly grey hair was working at the costume shop as the last time I’d been here, and I must’ve made an impression because she remembered me.

“Another nineteenth century party?” she said with a smile.

“It’s kind of a club,” I said. “We love the nineteenth century.”

The lady led us to the appropriate section, pointing out the men’s wardrobe to Nate. He pulled a pair of black trousers out with a matching dinner jacket and tails. “I can impersonate Robert Willingsworth.”

I grimaced. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

In fact I still wasn’t sure that Nate should come with me at all. It’d be simpler if I went alone, grabbed Tim’s hand and came back, but I could tell by how earnest Nate was in selecting our costumes that his mind was set.

I chose a green dress and held it up to my chin. “What do you think?”

Then I had a flashback of the Fall Dance that had started it all. Nate had asked me to dance (even though it was only a dare) and his evil girlfriend at the time, Jessica Fuller, had been wearing a dress this same color. It looked fantastic on her.

I started to put the dress back.

“It’s great, Casey. You’ll look beautiful as always.”

“I don’t know. I’m not crazy about the color.”

Nate sent me a confused look. “It’s not a fashion event. We’re on a mission here.”

I shook the memories of Jessica off. “You’re right. I’ll take it.”

We paid for the costumes and walked out of the store wearing them, our regular clothes in a bag. The lady just smiled as we left.

My stomach started to clench as we turned off Massachusetts Avenue onto Waterhouse Street and finally into the parking lot of Cambridge Common at Harvard. There were crowds of people just as we expected, and it was especially busy since school was out for the summer and the weather had been warm and dry. Mothers were pushing children in strollers, lovers were holding hands, teenagers and college students sat on the grass in tight circles and I dreaded the thought that I might actually know someone here.

Lucinda showed up with her kitchen step stool. That’s what she had to go get? She might’ve needed something like that because she was so short, but I was Amazon woman. I didn’t need any extra height.

“Stand on this,” she said.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Come on, Casey.” She pressed her knuckles into hips. “It’ll grab everyone’s attention.”

Guess what’s the most common fear shared by men and women? Flying. Obviously I’m not about to catch a plane.

The number two fear?

PUBLIC SPEAKING.

Lucinda’s great idea was for me to recite the Gettysburg Address in a public place. We had to memorize it in American history. I was the top of my class and still knew it by heart.

My knees were already quivering, and as I glanced around at the crowd leisurely meandering through the park, I started to feel sick.

This could work.

I was certain my skin was turning as green as my dress. “I don’t think I need to stand on that.”

Nate took my hand. “Just do it Casey. I’m right here. I’m with you.”

I smiled weakly and climbed the step-stool. If people hadn’t noticed me because of my strange attire before, they were noticing me now.

I closed my eyes, and when I felt Nate gently squeeze my hand I began. “Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent...” I dared to open my eyes long enough to see that people had actually stopped to watch. The teens under the trees looked at me like I was crazy. One of them let out a round of mocking laughter. I snapped my eyes shut again.

“...a new nation...”

“Speak louder,” Nate said.

Why? Who cared if I was heard? That wasn’t the point of this exercise, but I took a breath and practically shouted the rest.

“...conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.”

A small crowd had gathered and Nate encouraged me to continue. My heart pounded and I felt my hands get slippery with sweat. I felt light headed and was sure I was about to faint one way or another.

“Now we are engaged in a great Civil War, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war.”

I felt dizzy and giddy, and that light was forming at my peripheral. It was happening! I glanced, wide eyed at Nate.

And pulled my hand free just in time.

Chapter Fourteen

CASEY

I was back and without Nate. He was going to be so mad when he realized what had happened, but by then I would already be back with Tim. No harm no foul.

I hadn’t considered how Tim’s sudden appearance at Cambridge Common would affect the crowd, but I decided we’d just have to dash out as fast as we could before we were riddled with questions.

The Harvard College grounds were sparse compared to its modern counterpart, like a giant hand had plucked away all the newer complexes leaving only the oldest buildings behind. I spotted the three-story, red-brick Massachusetts Hall in the distance.

Another apparent change was the number of students who meandered the paths in the summer months. Not many, and all male. I picked up my skirts and kept to the least populated paths.

My dress was a little too tight around the armpits and I pulled down on the bodice to no avail. Despite the discomfort I was thankful to already be dressed--it saved time.

My heart pumped with anxiety. I wouldn’t breathe properly until I had Tim in my sights. Then I might kill him. If he’d taken this more seriously and not picked up the first girl he spotted, we wouldn’t be in this situation. As it was, I could only imagine the trouble he could’ve gotten into since I’d been gone. I hoped he hadn’t done something stupid and gotten kicked off the farm.

My brow was sweating in an unflattering fashion when I finally turned down the Watson drive. The younger kids were running around in the front yard, and they waved when they saw me.

“Hi!” One of the little boys called.

“Hi, “I called back.

I headed straight for the kitchen door, and tapped lightly before walking in. “Sara?”

She had two fists in a large bowl filled with dough, kneading it with a masterful rhythm. She stopped when she saw me. “Cassandra.”

Her expression scared me. Her head tilted to the left and her mouth went soft. Her eyes looked like they were tearing up.

“What’s wrong?” My heart took flight. “Did something happen to Timothy?”

“They’ve left.” She continued her kneading. “I’m sorry I have to finish this.”

I was gripped with apprehension.“Who left?”

“Willie, Henry and Timothy.”

My mouth was so dry, I could barely swallow. A memory flashed of Tim when we first arrived here, and how he brashly called out to a passing group of soldiers.

“How long ago?”

“Two days. They’re not far away, though, only at Camp Cameron.”

Camp Cameron, eventually Camp Day, was on the Cambridge/Somerville border. Not walking distance, but an easy day’s horseback ride.

If I didn’t get lost.

“I need to find him, Sara. I need to take him home.”

She looked at me with pity. “We tried to talk him into going back to Springfield, tried to convince him that he should talk to his family first or to you, but he refused. He’s enlisted now. They won’t let him leave until his tour of duty is up.”

My legs felt numb, and I slid into a chair. The enlistment tours were for three years. I knew this from my studies. My brother was an idiot!

Josephine walked into the room and Sara told her to get me a glass of water.

“Your brother is so brave,” she said to me as she passed me the glass.

You mean so stupid, I thought as I gulped the water down.

It was unnerving the way Sara stared at me, but I was more than a mystery to her. I had to give her credit. She’d tired of asking me questions I couldn’t answer long ago, but she still remained patient enough to allow my habitual returns. Now I wished I’d brought Nate along after all. He’d know what to do. Oh, why did I pull my hand away?

I didn’t want to do anything to ruin Sara’s trust, but I knew I had to do something illegal now in order to get Timothy back.

“Sara,” I began, “I’m not feeling well today. Would you mind if I retired to the cabin and returned later this evening?”

I must’ve looked like crap because she didn’t skip a beat before saying, “Yes, by all means.”