Son of the Revolution (11 page)

“You took a bullet, son.”

Caleb breathed a sigh of relief. “Is that all? Why, don’t worry, sir. I’ll be fine, In fact, except for a headache, I don’t hurt at all.”

Amos did not reply immediately. Caleb watched the older man gaze out the window as if to draw strength from the towering old trees beside the farmhouse.

Turning back to Caleb he looked directly into his eyes. “The doctor with General Morgan’s troops said the bullet went into your spine. The spot it hit has caused a-a paralysis. That means you may never walk again, and it’s the reason why you don’t feel any pain.”

“Never walk again? I must walk. I’m a soldier.” Caleb felt the hot sting of tears in his own eyes and swallowed the metallic taste of fear.

“Hold on, son. I know it’s a hard thing to bear. Let me tell you what happened. Your friend, Corporal Larkin, and some of Major Hunt’s men brought you here a week ago. Larkin said you once told him where we lived when you discussed Victory. He said you had promised to return the horse when you could.”

Caleb nodded without replying.

“When Major Hunt’s group passed a sign with our village name, the corporal recalled it and felt it best to get you off the road as soon as possible. Victory carried you for three days.”

Caleb remained silent, waiting for the explanation to continue.

“Your friend saw you get hit and fall into the river. He fished you out before you drowned and with help, lifted you atop Victory. He hid you behind a rise until he could get the regiment’s doctor to see you. Sounds like he saved your life.”

Caleb wondered if they had done him a favor.

“Major Hunt’s group planned to return to Charleston, and fortunately they took a route that led them nearby. You may not have lasted until they reached the city. Your friend did right in bringing you here. An infection had set in. Abby and me, we’ve been treating it. Looks like we’ve done the right thing. You’re alive, boy. Be thankful.”

Caleb turned away. He just wanted others to leave him alone. He didn’t feel thankful at all.

“Oh, Corporal Larkin left a message for you. He said, ‘tell him I’m glad to return the favor.’ Do you know what he meant?”

Caleb’s eyes filled with tears. He knew Seth meant he had repaid the debt incurred when the ruffian wounded him. Oddly enough, Charleston had been their destination that day too. How long ago it all seemed, the distraught boy thought.

“Your friend also said he’d return when he could.”

“Do you mind if I rest now, sir?” Caleb saw the pity in Amos Clark’s eyes.
Abby probably feels sorry for me too
. He wanted to talk to no one until he decided how he could face life as a cripple.

Lost in thought, he didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard a soft tap on the door. He closed his eyes, turned his face to the wall and didn’t answer. Presently, there was only silence.

* * * *

The next time Caleb opened his eyes, the sun was making patterns on the coverlet. Again, came a knock. Before he could answer, the door opened and Abby stormed in. Standing with her hands on her hips, she glared at the boy in the bed.

“Caleb Fields, I’m almost sorry I’ve spent so much time worrying about you this past week. Here you lie, hiding in this room, feeling sorry for yourself. Have you thought of the boys who didn’t come home at all?”

Caleb stared in shock. Abby seemed full of surprises.

“What do you want me to do? I can’t walk. I may never walk,” he finished bitterly.

“We’ll see about that. For now, I want you to eat something. Are you hungry?”

When Abby mentioned food, Caleb realized he was famished. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

He also realized how he had treated the Clarks after they had taken him in and cared for him.

Abby returned shortly with a tray and set it down on the stool. “Let me help you to sit up and I’ll put this on your lap.”

Once settled, Caleb looked at the girl. “Abby, forgive me for the way I’ve acted. I owe your family so much. You saved me once and now it seems you’ve done it again. I’m only thinking of myself and my problems, and have completely forgotten my manners. My ma taught me right and wrong and I’ve been wrong. Tell me, how is your ma?”

Once more, the blue eyes swam with tears. “My mother died six months ago.”

“Oh, Abby, I’m terribly sorry. I though often of her bravery and how she helped me before.”

“She thought of you too, and prayed for your safety. I know she would want me to help your now.”

“I’m safe all right, but I might as well be a prisoner.” The bitterness returned.

“Don’t, Caleb! I won’t have you talking like that. You
will
walk again. I just know you will, and I’m going to help you.”

“How, Abby? On these useless legs? I think the doctor was right. I’ll be a cripple for the rest of my life.”

“No, Caleb, you won’t. The doctor didn’t say for sure. He didn’t know your spirit, but I do and I know you’ll walk again.”

Caleb looked deeply into Abby’s eyes. He knew she meant what she said, but how would they accomplish an impossible task?

“How? How can I walk?”

“I don’t know yet,” she said honestly, “but we’ll find a way.”

“You’re a true friend, Abby,” he said, ashamed of his outburst.

“Then eat. You’ll need all your strength if you’re going to use your own two legs.”

* * * *

The following week found Caleb and Abby sitting under one of the oak trees just beyond the garden. Amos had carried Caleb outside. The day was unseasonably warm for late January.

When he set Caleb down, Amos teased him. “This laziness must stop. I understand you’ve a mind to walk again. If so, you must work at it. I’ll need some help in the fields soon. If the weather holds out, we should start planting before long.”

“I’d love to lend a hand, sir. I owe you and Abby so much. You’ve saved my life twice now, and if I can help with anything, I’ll gladly do so.”

“It’s not us you owe for your life, boy. But I think you’re going to do fine now. Just you worry about walking again, and when you’re ready, I’ll expect to see you on the business end of a shovel.”

“Caleb will walk soon, Father.” Abby’s faith never wavered.

“Aye, girl, I think he will. Now, I mustn’t waste this beautiful day. I have much to do.”

“Caleb, I’d like to hear about the battle where you got wounded if you feel like talking about it.” Abby settled down to listen to Caleb’s story.

Drawing a deep breath, the boy relived the day, describing the sights and scenes of the battle where the Continental Army overcame the Red Coats. He talked until he reached the part when he was shot. “That’s all I remember until I woke up here.”

“It took a lot of bravery to help chase that awful Tarleton off the battlefield.”

Caleb’s chest puffed up as he accepted Abby’s compliment. Suddenly his eyes widened.

Not daring to speak until he felt sure, he reached out and touched the girl’s arm. “Abby,” he whispered, “my toes feel funny. It’s like little blades of grass tickling them.”

“Oh, Caleb, perhaps if you can feel something, it means your legs might heal.”

“It’s stopped now.” Caleb’s shoulders slumped in dejection.

“It will happen again, just wait.”

It soon became their habit to sit under the oak in the afternoons. Abby had duties in the house that took her time in the mornings but after the noon meal, she and Caleb escaped to the shade of the old tree. Often they read, each engrossed in the pages before their eyes. Sometimes, one or the other read aloud when they found an amusing passage or a character they fancied and wanted to share.

The weather changed slowly, growing warmer with each passing day. The scent of Sweet Williams filled the air from the little garden Abby tended, and bright green sprouts replaced winter’s weakening hold on the land.

Several months had passed since the strange tingle in Caleb’s toes, so long ago he had almost forgotten. Deep in a book about the sea, it took him minutes to realize it had happened again. This  time stronger sensations ran through his whole foot.

“Quick, Abby! Help me off with my shoes.”

Bewildered, Abby did as Caleb asked. She tugged at his boots, then removed the thick hose.

“Look! Look at my toes. I can move them. I’m wiggling them myself!”

“I knew it would happen! Oh, Caleb, I’m sure you’ll walk any day now. Maybe even dance a reel,” she cried, as her eyes sparkled.

Caleb laughed when Abby jumped up and whirled in circles, clapping her hands to unheard music.

Amos Clark came from the house and gave the girl a bewildered look. He glanced at Caleb. “Has my daughter taken leave of her senses?”

“No, sir, we’re celebrating. I can wiggle my toes.”

Inspecting the bare feet and treated to a demonstration of toe wiggling, Amos Clark smiled. “That’s fine, son, really fine. You’ll walk again soon for sure.” Amos Clark turned away, but not before Caleb saw the mist gather in the older man’s eyes.

“Say, Abby, I just remembered. It’s my birthday today. So much has happened it almost slipped my mind.”

“Oh, I wish I had known earlier.” With a mysterious look on her face, Abby added, “stay right here, Caleb. I have something to do.”

“Where else would I go?” Caleb grinned, able now to make a small joke about his condition.

The young man leaned back in the fragrant grass, arms locked beneath his head. He soon drifted into a light sleep and dreamed he had danced a reel with Abby.

Moisture on his face woke Caleb. He looked up. Rain and heavy clouds had replaced the sun. A jagged bolt of lightning flashed across the dark sky. The crash of thunder that followed brought Abby from the house. She looking up, wiping her hands on her apron. “I’ve been so busy inside I didn’t notice a storm had blown in.”

“Is your father in the field?”

“Yes, he’s still out with the men. I’m not strong enough to help you, but I won’t leave you. It’s just a spring storm. It won’t last long.”

She had barely spoken when the downpour increased. Lightning crackled around them and rain came down in sheets. They shivered in their wet clothing and clung to one another under the big tree.

“Abby, go back in the house. I’ll be all right. Your father will probably come along soon.”

Another crash of thunder sounded, then the sky flamed as a lightning bolt struck the old oak. A heavy branch, torn from the trunk, dropped on Abby and Caleb, covering the girl. Caleb dug frantically and uncovered Abby’s white face. Her lashes lay like dark fans against her cheeks while a thin stream of blood ran from her temple. She didn’t move.

I’ve got to get her out from under this branch
, Caleb thought.
How can I do it?
His eyes darted around the landscape, but only the ravages of the storm lay around them.

Please help me, Lord,
Caleb prayed.
I can’t help myself.

He grasped the trunk of the tree and forced himself upright. Unsteady, he tried to balance himself. He felt strength flow into his limbs, but moments later fell to his knees. Tears of frustration mixed with the rain. He glanced toward the house. The distance wasn’t great, but to Caleb, it seemed impossible.

He struggled to his knees, and pushed at the branch until he freed Abby. Looking at her, he spotted the apron strings that trailed from beneath her still form. Caleb tied them in a knot and wrapped the ends around his fist. He hoped the strength of the fabric held. He began to crawl, tugging on the apron strings. The rain had turned the ground to mud and washed away Abby’s flower garden.

Caleb pulled himself along with one arm, dragging Abby with the other. The rain grew heavier. It stung like little needles on his skin. Even the course material of his shirt didn’t protect his arms as he crawled through the pebbles and sharp branches.

He stopped, exhausted with pain and the extra weight. He longed to give up, but one glance down at Abby’s pale face and he pushed on. He reached the door just as the wind tore parts of the roof away and hurled the pieces to the ground around them. With one last burst of strength, Caleb pulled Abby into the house. He lay still for a moment, his breath coming in heavy gasps.

After what seemed like hours, Caleb raised his head. He must get something to wipe the blood from Abby’s face. If he could make it a few feet to the table, he felt sure he’d find something. He inched his way over, reached up, grabbed the edge and pulled himself up. For the second time that day, he stood on both legs. Weak and shaky, his eyes searched for something to bind Abby’s wounds. His eyes took in the disarray. Thick pottery bowls held sugar and flour, some of which lay in a light dusting on the floor. Looking further, he saw a cake, fragrant with spices, cooling on the sideboard. He realized Abby had baked the cake for his birthday.

He spotted a cloth and dipped it in the water bucket on the table. On his knees once more he crawled back to Abby.

Caleb leaned on one elbow and brushed the dark curls aside and carefully dabbed at the mud, then held the cloth to the cut on her temple.

“Wake up, Abby,” he whispered. “Please open your eyes. I don’t know what else to do.”

At that moment, the anxious voice of Amos Clark filled the room. “Abby, Caleb, are you here?” Catching sight of the two, he dropped to his knees. “What happened, boy?”

“A tree limb hit Abby, sir. I’ve bathed her face, but she still hasn’t opened her eyes.”

“Let me look at her.” Amos bent over his daughter. He picked up the cloth and gently patted his daughter’s face. Caleb knew the big man felt as helpless as he did.

As they watched, Abby’s eyelids fluttered open. She looked at her father and Caleb bending over her.

“What happened? How did I get inside?” She looked from one to the other.

Amos shook his head and looked at Caleb. “Can you explain this?”

“No, sir, I just did the only thing I could think to do. I crawled and pulled Abby behind me.”

Amos looked from one to the other. “I think she’ll do well now, lad. I also think something happened here today that we don’t fully understand, but I thank you for somehow having the strength to save my girl.”