Brave Enemies (28 page)

“You can't hold coffee and the rifle at the same time,” the sergeant said.

I saw what a fix I was in. Gudger had found out my secret and was going to use it against me. Gudger could always claim I was a spy, that he'd caught me spying. It was known that women had served as spies for the redcoats. If the sergeant told on me I was dead any way you figured it. I would have to use my wits.

A sip of the coffee warmed my lips, and warmed my throat and belly as it went down. I sipped again and the coffee was like a light on my tongue that found its way down to my belly.

“I saw lights out in the woods,” I said to Gudger.

“You seen lanterns?” he said.

I described the glowing things, the blue and green and lavender, the red devil light, and the razor edge of light that slit through the dark.

“You must have been asleep and dreaming,” Gudger said.

“I was not asleep,” I said. As I sipped the coffee I quit shaking, but my teeth didn't stop chattering. It wasn't just the cold that made me shudder. I was afraid of Gudger, of what he might do or say.

The sergeant leaned up against me in the dark, smelling of tobacco and the whiskey he kept in his canteen. I tried to pull away. “I can help you,” he said.

“How can you help?” I said.

“I know you're expecting,” Gudger said.

“You don't know anything,” I said, and took a big swallow of the coffee.

“When I seen you sick this morning, I knowed what it was,” Gudger said. “ My mama was a midwife and I know the signs. And when I seen you march and handle a rifle I knowed you wasn't no boy.”

“What do you want?” I said.

“I want you to be nice to me, ” he said, and pressed closer. He put a hand on my breast and I pulled back. His breath was getting shorter and he was getting excited. I reckon a man can get excited in a second. A man can get all worked up by a touch or maybe just a smell of perfume.

I pushed Gudger's hand away and he put his hand down in my lap. His fingers fumbled at the straddle of my breeches. I saw why he'd taken the rifle away. I saw I was in grave danger. If I hollered out and soldiers came from the camp, he would not only tell my secret but accuse me of spying or going to sleep on guard duty. If I didn't holler out he would have his way, for he was bigger and stronger than me. I didn't even have a knife, and the ax was back in the camp. All I had was the mug of coffee. I could try to hit him with the mug, but that wouldn't do much good.

Sometimes a woman has to be smart and swallow her pride. A woman has to think how to live and protect her children. A woman has to think sometimes in complicated ways. I decided I would resist the sergeant, but I would not holler out. If he overpowered me I would have to let him have his way. I would not give in, but I would not let him kill me either. The Lord would forgive me. Maybe I was being punished for my sins,
for killing Mr. Griffin and quarreling with John. It wouldn't be the first time I was taken against my will.

I gulped the coffee like I was pretending his hand wasn't on my groin. His rough paw felt its way under the cloth and I winced when he touched me there. “No,” I said, and flung down the mug into the snow. I tried to push his hand away, but he was a lot stronger than me. He pushed himself against me and opened the trousers with his left hand.

“You know you want me,” Gudger said. “I'm the most man you'll ever have.” His breath was shorter and his words were like hisses.

“You get away,” I said.

Gudger was trembling as he held me and pushed me down in the snow. He was shaking from either excitement or cold. “You ain't never had a real man,” the sergeant said.

“Get off me,” I said.

“You can take it fore or you can take it aft,” Gudger said.

The snow was coming down harder than ever. The flakes hit my face like little paws fumbling. Flakes hit my eyes and melted in my eyes. Gudger was pressing me down and opening my legs and I saw there was no way to stop him. I wasn't going to holler out. I wasn't going to give myself away. I'd done all I could.

But then Gudger just stopped, like the will had gone out of him all of a sudden. He lay back like the wind had drained out of him and the meanness had left him. I felt his weight and smelled his breath, but the pushing had stopped. I had felt his member hard and now it seemed to be gone.

“You damn whore,” the sergeant muttered. He rolled back a little bit. Something had happened to him. Something had taken the will out of him. The snowflakes scratched my face like spiders and little birds' feet. The air was damp and cold and the new blanket already wet. I thought it must be the cold and wet that had cooled Gudger off.

I opened my mouth and sucked in flakes like they were sugar.

Gudger smacked me hard across the face. “I will finish with you later,” he said.

I
EXPECTED THE SERGEANT
to give me away the next morning. I figured he'd go back to the camp and accuse me of falling asleep on sentry duty, or say he'd proved I was a spy for Tarleton. After Gudger left me, I sat in the falling snow trying to decide what to do. If I ran off into the woods they would track me in the snow and shoot me or hang me. Running away would be like admitting I was guilty. Running away from guard duty was asking to be shot.

Besides, if I ran off into the winter woods I'd be lost and cold. I didn't have any fire and I didn't know where I was. I didn't know where they had taken John and I didn't have anything to eat. I had the rifle gun but hardly knew how to shoot it. And I had a baby growing in my belly that would starve if I starved. I'd have to stay in the militia as long as I could, until I found what to do.

I sat there shivering and thinking as I wrapped myself up in the two blankets that were already white with snow. My cheek burned where Gudger had slapped me. My skin stung like he'd had poison oak on his hand.

It came to me that Gudger might not tell anybody what he'd found out. I saw he might not tell, for he would have to explain why he hadn't told Cox sooner, as soon as he knew I wasn't a boy. And if he accused me he might also have to explain why he came to me on guard duty out in the woods. Whatever had happened to him there to stop him, he wouldn't want me to tell anybody.

If nobody else knew I was a girl, it would be his secret, and he might be able to use it, and me, in some way in the future. I tried to think the way the sergeant would think. You really can't know how another body thinks, but I had a pretty good guess about how Gudger would think. He reminded me of Mr. Griffin and the boys I'd gone to school with.

I was still pondering what to do when T. R. came out of the dark and told me it was his turn to stand watch. The snow was still falling and it was still dark. But you could tell daylight wasn't too far off by the misty look in the trees. The treetops looked deep underwater.

“The sergeant said I could have the extra blanket,” T. R. said.

I peeled the second blanket off my shoulders, shook the snow off, and handed it to T. R.

“This cold makes your thing get littler and littler,” T. R. said.

“I'm too cold to care,” I said. But I was relieved, for it seemed the sergeant hadn't gone back to the camp and told on me.

I was stiff from cold and from fighting Gudger. I hit a laurel bush and shook snow down the back of my neck. That woke me up and made me scream a little. I saw how hard it was to walk in the snow. I stumbled from tree to tree back into camp, determined to face Gudger and not let him get the better of me.

Fires were blazing all over the woods, and men were boiling coffee and grits. I could smell hoecakes frying and bacon frying.

I went right to the fire where the sergeant and the other boys of our squadron were. Gudger was stirring a pot of grits with a wooden spoon.

“Stir this hominy, private,” the sergeant said to me. He stared at me hard, like he was warning me not to say anything. I looked him straight
in the eye and took the spoon. I wanted him to feel my scorn for him. I didn't want him to see how relieved I was he hadn't told anybody.

I stirred the grits and turned the bacon in the big pan. I was cold and hungry and the heat of the fire was sweet as maple sugar. I wanted to stand by the fire and drink up the warmth. I wanted to drink the light. The warmth of the fire and smell of coffee and bacon made me feel alive again. But I felt Gudger's eyes on me. Every time I turned his way I found him studying me. I turned away and poured coffee into my bowl.

“Summers, you will make somebody a good wife,” he said, and laughed.

The captain came to the fire and put two pieces of bacon and some grits on his plate. I didn't have a plate and I was wondering how I would eat some grits. I couldn't eat hot grits out of my hand. I had only the pewter bowl.

“Too bad we don't have some butter,” Captain Cox said. “When you joined you should have brought us some butter, Private Summers.”

The warm fire, and relief that Gudger hadn't told, made me feel good. The coffee was rich and hot and I was hungry for some grits and bacon. I wanted to eat and rest. I figured that because of the snow we wouldn't be marching or drilling that day, and I could sit by the fire and maybe even sleep some more.

But when the captain mentioned butter for the grits, and then mentioned it again, something turned deep in my belly. And instead of warmth I felt raw and hot down in my guts. My bones were still cold but my belly was hot.

Sometimes when you're sick at your stomach you can stand still and swallow, act like you're frozen, and the sickness will go away. For sickness is partly in your head. If you feel sick you'll be sick. If you think about throwing up you will throw up. I stood still and looked off at the snowy woods and tried not to think about butter. But what came to mind was a pool of melted butter in grits. The butter was clear, with yellow flecks floating in it.

I swallowed again and took a sip of the coffee, but that didn't do any
good. The rawness and harshness in my belly got worse. The soreness down there turned into a pain. And before I could stop it a fist came punching up through my stomach and into my throat. I ran among the men to the edge of the woods, holding my hand over my mouth. And then I held on to a tree while I leaned over and puked in the snow.

After I was sick I felt weak and new. I'd vomited away the poison and worry and now it was time to start again, if I could start again. I'd emptied myself and was so weak I dropped to my knees and rubbed snow on my forehead and cheeks. I put snow in my mouth to soothe my lips and tongue, and clean away the bitter taste.

When I stood up and stumbled back to the fire, Captain Cox watched me and shook his head. “Private Summers, you must take something for the flux,” he said.

“It's just a touch,” I said.

The captain told Sergeant Gudger to go to the medicine chest and bring back the blue bottle. When Gudger came back from the tent he was carrying a little bottle so dark it looked almost black. The captain poured a spoonful and handed it to me.

“When you have bile on the stomach, take laudanum,” the captain said.

I didn't have any choice but to swallow the spoonful of laudanum. It tasted like liquor mixed with some secret salt from deep in the earth. Though the tincture was light brown it tasted blue as the sky before dawn.

“You must take a spoonful of this every morning until the bilious flux is cured,” the captain said. He handed me the bottle.

I sat down on a log not too far from the fire and wrapped the blanket around my shoulders. At first I didn't feel anything but the strange liquid in my throat and belly. And then a soothing softness began to spread from my belly. The raw pain in my gut cooled. My belly was empty and clean and full at once.

“Eat quickly,” the captain shouted. “We are going to march.”

“In the snow?” somebody said.

“Snow will not stop the enemy,” Captain Cox said.

A
S SOON AS THE MEN
ate the hog meat and hominy and hoe-cakes, and drank the scalding coffee, Captain Cox hollered it was time to break camp and march. There were groans around the fires. I reckon we had all hoped we could rest because of the snow.

“Where are we going, sir?” the man called Jenkins yelled.

The captain said again we were going to Grindal Shoals to join Major McDowell's North Carolina militia and General Morgan's army.

“Pack your things,” Gudger yelled. His face was red from the cold and heating by the hot fire. As we lined up, with blankets over our shoulders and our guns in the cradle of our arms, the sergeant stopped beside me and said, “Joseph, if you have to puke, don't puke on the man in front of you.”

“No, sir,” I said, and smiled. The laudanum made the world feel mellow and easy.

Cox mounted his horse and rode out in front of us, and just as we started the snow stopped. The flakes quit falling all at once, like somebody had given an order. The sky was so dark it was almost black, but the air was clear. Everything was covered with snow, the pine trees, the bushes, the road. The world was clean as linen.

The snow on the road made it hard to march, and the uneven ruts and mud under the snow made it even harder. As we trampled the snow the mud stained through and by the time the end of the line came along the ruts were nothing but mud, red mud. The road looked like a bloody wound opened between the snowy woods. The carts and wagons lurched and banged on rocks and puddles behind us. Even where the ground had frozen it thawed under the hundreds of stamping feet. Soon my pants and overcoat and blanket were splashed with mud.

If it hadn't been for the laudanum I don't think I could have kept going. The laudanum gave me strength and made my belly quiet. As we kept
walking the sun came out almost ahead of us. We were marching into South Carolina. The sun got bright and the snow started to melt. Hunks of snow fell off trees beside the road.