Leigh Ann's Civil War (16 page)

His father, Colonel John Cummack, came. He was a scraggly-faced man with hard blue eyes and a short white beard. Louis and Teddy called him "sir." He was with the Confederate Infantry of R. H. Anderson's Corps that had attacked Sheridan's Cavalry near Cold Harbor.

He told us about it. Oh, the names. The corps, the infantries, the brigades, the attacks. I was sick of hearing about all of them. All they meant were more dead Johnnies.

My own James hadn't written a letter in weeks. And when one finally came it was from north of the Chickahominy. James was with Lee, moving southeast toward Cold Harbor, Virginia. All was still well. He was not wounded.

I was in a state of terror now, after what had happened to Johnnie. I'd been visiting James's grandmother, Mrs. Stapleton, at least once a week, and we compared letters. And after supper we prayed together for him.

Colonel Cummack allowed our negroes to come to Johnnie's funeral and sing their spirituals. Johnnie was buried in the cemetery behind the Roswell Presbyterian Church. A lot of the town folk came. I thought,
How can a mother not come to her own son's funeral? How can you be afraid to come to town? How can you be afraid of anything after you have lost a son?

And then I thought,
How can I criticize others? I have not see n my own mother in more than a year.

Viola wore black and a widow's veil.

Colonel Cummack looked at her strangely, but she did not care.

He left to go back to the field right after the funeral. He would not even come back to our house for a repast.

***

June went by in a haze. I did some swimming in the stream. Viola stayed pretty much in her room, or else she sat on the front verandah, rocking next to Pa, who never came out of his reverie anymore but was content to stay in his own little world. Viola would just sit there with a book in her hands, gazing off into some middle distance.

Sometimes Jon would sit with them. He would talk to her. And he would always make sure someone would see him doing this.

Viola did not seem to mind. It was as if she did not even know he was there.

One day, the third week in June, when Teddy was upstairs sleeping, Carol with him, when Viola was out on the verandah and Louis and Camille were meeting in the mayor's office with the people they were leaving with the next day, Theophile Roche came around.

From my room upstairs I saw him riding up the front drive and going 'round the back to the rear entrance. What did he want? Had he come to see Teddy? There was an iron rule in the house. Nobody woke Teddy from his sleep during the day. If the Yankees came, they must be told to wait until it was time for him to get up.

I waited for about seven minutes, then crept downstairs.

Roche was in the kitchen with Cannice. I could see he was drinking tea and eating cake she had given him.

"So, I do not know what to do," I heard him telling her in his French accent.

He was confiding in Cannice, like everyone else did, sooner or later.

About what? Women? The mill? Was he sick? Had he come for a remedy?

I casually sauntered into the kitchen. "I smell cake," I said.

"You know you'll ruin your appetite now for supper," Cannice said.

"Just a little piece? I won't tell anybody you gave it to me."

She set it down on the table and I pulled out a chair and sat down.

"I have come to see your brother," Mr. Roche told me. "I forget that he is sleeping. Cannice here is kind enough to offer me tea and cake. So I confide in her. It is time to put the French flag on the roof of the mill, but alas"—and he raised both hands—"this poor Frenchman is too frightened to go up there. It is so
high.
" He made the sign of the cross and rolled his eyes to heaven. "I am afraid. What am I to do? I have promised your brother I will fly the flag to show that the mill is under neutral ownership. And now I can get no one to go up there and place it for me! All are afraid!"

He was truly distressed.

I looked at Cannice and she at me. I thought for a moment.

We must do anything we can to save the mill.

I could hear Teddy saying the words inside my head, even now. And then I had a thought so brilliant that it struck me like lightning, leaving me in shock.

"When does the flag have to go up?" I asked Roche.

"Soon," he said. "The more soon the better."

I nodded. I finished my cake and told Cannice how excellent it was. I gulped my tea. "You could," I told Roche, "offer one of the workers extra money to take the flag on the roof. I'm sure my brother wouldn't mind."

He shook his head no, sadly. "They are all afraid."

I got up. "I can help you. I can go with you and offer one of them extra money. They will talk to me. Come on. Cannice, if anyone asks for me, tell them what I'm about. No, don't, not yet. I may fail and I don't want anyone to know it. I'll be back in plenty of time for supper."

Cannice said yes. She wouldn't tell anyone. And I went off to the mill with Roche.

***

Of course, I had no intention of asking any of the mill workers to bring the French flag up on the roof. If one of them did, and fell and got killed, Teddy would be in all kinds of trouble.

I was determined to do it myself.

Here was my way to make amends to my brother for all the trouble I'd given him over the years. Here was my chance to do something important for my family. For the war. I was not afraid to go up there on the roof. When I was ten I'd climbed to the uppermost limb of our cherry tree in our backyard, hadn't I?

"Show me the flag," I said to Roche once we got inside the mill.

He took me to a storeroom on the third floor.

Oh, it was a magnificent flag, blue and white and red, but not as pretty as our Confederate banner. "I'll have to take our Confederate flag down, won't I?"

"You?" He said something in garbled French. "You are going to do this? I thought you said you'd get a worker?"

"Oh, Mr. Roche, don't be a silly-boots. You knew I was going to do it all along, didn't you?"

"But, pretty little miss. Your brother will—how you say?—kill me."

"My brother is so busy worrying about the Yankees coming, he won't have time to kill you. Anyway, you don't have to tell him. Not right away, anyway."

He made the sign of the cross and said a prayer, his lips moving quickly. Did that mean he would let me do it? "I have a little sister at home," he told me. "I would not let her do it. And if I found out she did such, I would—how you say?—spank her."

"Teddy doesn't spank. Now show me: how do I get up there?"

He led me down a small hallway to where he reached up and pulled down a ladder. Above it in the ceiling was a trapdoor that led to the roof. Just like in an English romance novel.

He went up first and opened the trapdoor to reveal an expanse of blue sky. Then he came down and bowed and extended his arm graciously.

Gripping the staff of the flag, I climbed the steps.

The roof was slanted. The Confederate flag waved gaily a good distance from me at the other end of the roof. My heart leaped in my throat.

I would have to walk all the way to there? I looked down at Roche, smiling, determined not to appear frightened.

"You can do it, yes?" he asked.

"I can do it, yes," I returned.

"Excellent." He clasped his hands together. "I wait right here. You don't forget. Bring back the Confederate flag. It must not be seen on the roof. The whole idea is that once the French flag is up, this mill is neutral territory."

"Yes," I said. And I proceeded to plant my feet firmly on the roof and get my breath.

One step at a time, Leigh Ann,
I told myself.
Slowly, go slowly. There, one foot on each side of the peak. Keep your balance. Oh, the roof is hot! I should have worn my boots instead of these silken morning slippers. What's wrong with me? I should have taken the time to change! Oh, don't look down, even though you can see the whole town from here and it's so beautiful. Even though the water is there that powers the mill, the cool, cool water. Oh, how I wish I could put my feet in the water!

Careful. Oh, I almost tripped! There, I'll use the staff of the flag to lean on. See, I'm not stupid. I'll make it, and someday I'll tell my grandchildren about how I did this.

Oh, I'm more than halfway across. I want to stop, but I won't let myself. Let me think, was that Jon I saw listening in the hall outside the kitchen when I was talking to Roche? I wonder why he's been languishing around Viola so much lately. Oh, damned flag, you almost got me killed, blowing in front of my face like that. I should have bound you up.

Here, here, a few more feet and I'm at the Confederate fag. Now what to do?

Kneel down is what, if I can manage it. Oh, don't drop the flag or all will be for naught. Just hold it tight and kneel. No, wrong. Cant hold the damned flag and pull the Confederate one out of the receptacle at the same time. Try getting up again and putting the French flag between your knees and
kneeling down again. Should have worn boys' pants, too. All right, that's better.

Now, reach and grab the Confederate flag.

Damn, what did they do, lock it in? Yes, it's screwed in, I can see that. Now what? Have to undo that screw.

Ohhh, I've cut my finger. Damn, it hurts. Just a few more turns now and, there, it's loose. Lift it up now and, oh, it's heavy and tipping over and, hell, I've got to let it go or it will take me with it.

Well, there goes one perfectly good Confederate flag tumbling down the roof and splashing into the water. Darned shame. Maybe we can rescue it later. Hope it doesn't mess up the works. Now I've got to get the French flag up from between my knees and set it in the receptacle, like this. Oh, the darned wind. I'm fighting the wind.

There, I've set it in, but Roche gave me nothing to screw it in with. Well, I've done my best. Yankees come, they'll likely shoot it down anyway. I don't believe they'll accept this claptrap about neutral territory. Those Yankees are animals from what I hear. Now I have to get up and turn around and start back.

Oh, no, I can't do this again. It's so far back. How did I ever come all this way? And the roof is burning hot. It was one thing making my way here, but I never considered going back. I just can't do it.

My head hurts. I feel like throwing up. I'm thirsty. Let me just close my eyes for a minute. Oh, what are all those swirling lights? And why is my breath coming in heavy spurts?

God, I've got to get away from here! You can't abandon me now!

I started forward, one step, two steps, but everything was going around and around. I stopped again and closed my eyes and sat down.

"Leigh Ann! What in the name of the devil's wife are you doing up here?"

That's what Teddy would say. I heard it inside my head. He said things like that. Oh, how I wished I could hear it now.

"When I get you back down I'm going to hang you by your thumbs until the Yankees come and then let them have you."

Yes, he said colorful things like that all the time.

But then I heard footsteps coming toward me and I opened my eyes.

Teddy. A good distance from me, but not so far that I couldn't see the steam coming out of his head.

"You've done it now, little girl. This is it. This is the end. Now you can go with Louis and good riddance to you."

He meant it.

"Teddy," I started toward him.

"Shut up and don't move!"

I did both. He made his way toward me like he was a circus performer. When he got to me he maneuvered me around in front of him and held on to me, guiding me all the way back to the trapdoor. He let me go down first, and I stood there and waited while he came down, locked the door shut, and snapped the ladder into place.

Waiting for us in the hall was Jon. He grinned at me. I kicked him in the shins. Teddy pulled me away. "If he hadn't warned me, you could have been killed," he said. "Now get the hell home."

When I left he was bawling out Roche.

***

And that was truly the end of it with me and Teddy. His disgust with me that day knew no bounds, and he showed it in the only way he knew how to convey it.

He did not make me sit in a chair for an hour to contemplate my sins. He did not hang me up by my thumbs. He did not spank me as Roche said he did with his sister. I would have preferred any of these things.

He simply would not speak to me except to issue sharp orders. And when he did this, he would not look at me. He would not have to do with me in any way. He went inside himself so far, I could not find him again.

But the French flag flew on the roof of our cotton mill. And I had put it there. And someday I would be able to tell my grandchildren about it.

***

The next morning, without saying a word to anyone, I dressed and left the house before breakfast. Teddy had not yet come home from the mill. Louis had left early for the mayor's office to close things up. I mounted Trojan and rode to Louis's office and went in.

He looked up from his desk in surprise. We'd already said our goodbyes the night before. "What's wrong?" he asked. He eyed me solemnly.

"You've got to take me with you."

"Look, I know things are bad between you, but..."

"It's more than that, Louis. He doesn't want me around anymore."

"Oh, I'm sure it's not that. He's just worried about the Yankees coming."

"He doesn't want me around anymore. Why won't you believe that?"

He rubbed his face with his hand. "What you did"—he shrugged his shoulders—"is pretty serious, Leigh Ann." He shook his head. "No words can mend it."

"He might as well kick me out. He won't talk to me, look at me, or anything."

Louis nodded. "It's his way of punishing you."

"So you'll take me with you, then? I can go home and pack?"

Louis bit his bottom lip. "Honey, if I take you, you'll never mend it with him."

"He doesn't want to mend it."

"Yes, he does. He told me. But he's just so angry. You did a stupid thing, Leigh Ann. I'm sorry, sweetie, but I have to tell you. He said you were frozen in fear up on that roof. He can't get around that. This time you've gone too far. He can't forgive you right now. You have to give him time."