The True Love of War
On a rainy day in Jasper, Alabama, Miss James was sitting in the study trying to purl a stitch.
“Yarn in front check, make an x with the knitting needles, check. Now move the working yarn around up and off.
Son of a bookcase. Why can’t I get this? Theodora should have taught me how to do this before she left!”
As she tossed the knitting to the chair next to her, a cloud clapped together with its approval of her quieting. She heard someone coming down the stairs swearing about and almost tripping.
Freya stuck her head out and saw Mr.Myers trying to find his jacket on the coat rack. “Why can’t that woman learn to keep house the right way? It should be my jacket on top, then her father’s and her jacket should be at the bottom, always at the bottom. Maybe I should teach her how I want the house kept once we are married.”
She came out of the study and leaned into the doorway. “Have you ever thought that I know how to keep house? It's just you are nothing but a pig in a cheaply made suit? You might want to use some kind of coverage because you might melt. It’s raining outside.” Mitchell stopped going through the jackets and looked at his grand prize with a smile on his face.
“Does this mean you think I’m finally sweet enough to kiss?” The lady of the house raised an eyebrow at him and scoffed. “No, It means you are so wicked you will melt at the touch of the waters from heaven. Then I’ll have another thing to clean around here. And we both know that I still have some work in that area. At least according to you that is.”
The young man tried to move closer to Freya to give her a good once over with a sly smile. “Maybe we can practice you keeping house after I get back from shopping in town but not before we practice something else. I’m thinking you can practice learning how to listen to me. Starting with no more vagabond friends of yours. Cythia Swein. I think her name is. Or is it Catherin Swims? Oh well, it doesn't matter. You aren’t allowed to see her anymore. God only knows what she has put in that head of yours.” Mr. Myers said, finally grabbing his jacket to put it on.
Freya grabbed her knitting from the little chair in her father’s study. “What I have in my head is nothing compared to the sewers that run through your head. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to put this away and get ready to say goodbye to my grandparents before they get ready to leave before dawn. If you had any sense at all maybe you should be packing yourself. Because well if my grandfather has to come here and find you well it’s best you not know what he would do.”
The lady of the house started to climb the stairs when the pig in rags grabbed her by the waist. “Just think, very soon I’ll be the one you obey until your dying day. Just got to play your cards right and I’ll make sure, we'll make sure you are taught well, maybe starting on our wedding night.”
The lady of the house pulled out of his grip and went on upstairs then doubled back. “I’ll sooner obey the scarecrow outside than you. At least he has more going on in his head than some people I know. If you touch me like that again ever I’ll find another way to use these knitting needles. As for Ceillia Swan I’ll see my friend when I damn well please. Now you best go before my grandfather comes down in search of something that is pointy.”
Mr. Myers finally got his jacket on fighting it and the urge to hurt his grand prize in the blue dress that caused her eyes to turn more ice colored. “Aren’t you wondering why I am going into town my sweet dove? I have to get a gift so it seems for your father in exchange for letting him marry his only daughter. I also have to get you something. It seems that I missed your birthday while I was away. Maybe I can get you a looming set instead of knitting or maybe some other kinds of hair combs, something that doesn’t clash with your hair. Those blue stones in those hair combs look like you have blueberries in your hair. Take them out before I get home. Maybe I’ll have something more pleasing to look at for you.”
The lady of the house squinted at him, trying to give him the same stare her grandfather used on him. “The only sight that would be pleasing for me would be to see you leaving here and never coming back. Oh hello grandfather, I see you found the tool for your trunk. It looks nice and pointy.” Mr. Myers jumped and turned around thinking the old man was behind him. Before he could tell Freya off again she was already up the stairs in her room laughing.
Throughout the day, Freya kept laughing at the trick she pulled on Mr. Myers and thinking of other things as well, counting down the days until she gets to see her soldier boy. She can still smell his scent each time she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. He smelled like freshly turned up dirt, pine trees, maybe some sunflowers, and a hint of sandalwood.
Along with the feel of his heart against her body but does it race when they touch like her’s does when they look into each other’s eyes with each meeting? The lady of the house stood there in the middle of the hallway with a broom in her hands just daydreaming of being with him again.
But who is she really dreaming about? Is he the man who she got her real first kiss with? Is he the same man around her or is he going to be turning into a nightmare? All these questions can be answered so easily, just ask the man. Why can’t she just point blank him just go up to him and ask him everything her mind has been screaming at her since they met? Oh yeah, she thought to herself it's because each time they see one another her heart does the talking.
After a few more minutes of daydreaming, Freya went upstairs to clean the room she avoided like it was the thing that killed more than half her family. The lady opened the door to see it full of dust with the bed not made and the mirror full of clouds of dirt.
“In and out, clean then run for it to scrub off the smell.” The lady of the house held her breath and started cleaning as fast as she could, dusting things off and fixing the bedding. When she got to the dresser she found a piece of paper there with her name on it. She threw the dust pan onto the bed and opened the piece of paper.
Dear Freya Hi I’m Grace Rosemen or should I say your new sister in law?
Johnny told grandmother and I all about you. I’m sorry about your mother and brothers. I would have liked to meet them. I bet they were amazing people. Johnny comes here every so often to give us what money he has for food and stuff. The diary you gave me is under my bed for safe keeping. Thank you for that it’s lovely. Johnny will be mad if I told you this but almost everything he talks about when he comes to visit is you. Grandmother told him to either prove you are real or stop talking about you. Every so often I go into his room and go through his old toys. He still has the teddy bear our mother gave him as a babe along with his baby blanket. If you really want to see him lose his mind talk about the raccoons that live in our outhouse. He thinks one tried to kidnap him when he was little. It turned out the raccoon just wanted the beef jerky in his pocket. He still refuses to use any outhouse at night. I should go now grandmother says it’s time for me to practice my needle point. Maybe when you come here we can learn together.
Love,
Grace (little storm) Rosemen
Ps. if you ever want more dirt on my brother feel free to write me.
Freya stuffed the letter back in the envelope and put it in her pocket, somewhat sick to her stomach. That letter was for my eyes only and he stole it.
The lady of the house ran out of the room leaving the cleaning supplies there with the rest of the dirt and running right into her grandmother coming out of the guest room. “Watch where you are going Elizabeth!! You could have knocked both of us down the stairs. What is wrong with you child? You looked like you were flushed. If you are going to be sick you best get to the outhouse post haste. And watch where you step before you hurt someone or yourself.”
The lady of the house ran down the stairs and was about to grab the knob to the front door when her father yelled for her. (Oh what now? For the love of all that is holy what does my father want now?)
Mr. James had a file in his hand and slammed it onto his desk, picking up a bill. Mr. James held up a piece of paper to her then turned it to himself. “Do you know what this is? I will tell you what it is, my dear daughter. It’s a bill, the bill for your upcoming wedding to Mr. Myers. Over fifty dollars on flowers alone! And the guest list, don’t get me started on that. Plus this thirty dollars for three kinds of cakes. What has gotten into that head of yours? The only thing reasonable is a different dress. Actually that isn’t reasonable either. I thought you had your heart set on your mother’s dress. I can tell you one thing, you don’t have any sense when it comes to this wedding. You best cut your budget a lot lower and the guest list. You best get to it quick.”
Freya gave the bill a look over and huffed at it. "You might want to send a letter to each business in town and cut Mr. Myers off. and then find a shrink because it's clear to me that it's not what's going on in my head is the problem; it's what is going in yours and Mr. Myers. And maybe check that last cake father because it's peppermint. something I can't eat. Unless I want to die on my wedding day.
Then again, if it's a choice between marrying that thing or dying on my wedding day I would rather die. You best hope he didn't order something you are allergic to either. Now I must go before Mr. Myers decides to buy something like boat tickets to the end of the earth for the honeymoon. If we are lucky he might buy a whole new personality.”
Freya left the house before Mr. James could think of something else to say about the billing of the upcoming wedding.
She ran to her spot she shares with the union soldier and sees someone standing there overlooking the campsite where Johnothan would have his belongings. She could tell that it wasn’t him but someone else, someone shorter and more heavyset, a bit stocky. Then she turned around and ran off before the man could stop her from leaving.
The lady of the house started towards the town trying to stop her husband from going to their spot.
Then she spotted Ayden going into town in a carriage. “Can I have a lift into town? I need to get there fast. I have a feeling something is wrong. Please Ayden.” Her cousin helped her into the carriage and started the horses at a running pace.
“Come on Ayden, can’t this horse go faster? it's life or death meaning if Mr. Snake in the grass told the war office about Johnothan he could be discharged out of the army or worse, killed. Move it dear cousin!”
They got into town and saw Mr. Myers coming out of the jewelry store with two boxes in his hands. Freya jumped out of the carriage hitting the ground running towards Mitchell with fire in her eyes.
“What did you do huh? Was it hurting...Tell me did you turn.. Did you go to… What did I do to... Where did you get that letter on your dresser? That was addressed to me. Well answer me right now because I have half a mind… If you… If you did what I think you did you will get more than just a kick in the gut from my horse you will get a one way ticket to hell courtesy of my boot.”
“Freya, relax, you are making yourself sound as if you lost your mind. I would calm my temper if I were you unless you want to be the second member of your family to have a heart issue.” Ayden said, trying to pull her away from him.
Mr. Myers looked at the pair of them with a sideways look on his face. “I didn’t do anything to you but try to teach you some manners Miss. James or should I say Mrs. Rosemen? Yes, I read the letter from that child. I haven’t decided to do anything with the information yet. I might report the Union Soldier or I might not. I haven’t made up my mind yet. But what crime should I report him on for marrying you?
No, it isn’t a crime to marry a beautiful girl. For being on too many leaves when he is supposed to be fighting a war? No, even during these times a man should have a break ever so often.
Oh wait, I know what to report him on, for pretending to be a Confederate soldier. Now that is a real crime. But as I said I haven’t made up my mind. Maybe you can make it up for me. If you follow through what you promised your father you would do and start obeying me then maybe I won't report your lover from the other side of the war. Do I have your word Southern Fire?”
"In a word, no you don't have my word. Tell me, is this the same kind of threats and bullying you used on a certain Miss. Lavender Rose Conners? Or did you just twist her arm until it came out of its socket?
As much as you may think you have dirt on me I have twice as much dirt on you Mr. Myers. So go ahead and report Mr. Rosemen, no one will believe you. I dare you to try it."
While she spoke to the man, she crossed her arms trying to keep her pose of being strong, not showing any fear in her body or eyes. All while her heart raced at the thought of the truth coming out.
Ayden stepped in front of Freya and saw the two boxes in the man in question’s hands. “Don’t tell me those are wedding rings for you two. It’s not going to happen. You best turn right around and return them.” He said, pointing to the jewler with a stern look on his face trying to look intimidating like his father.
Mr. Myers stepped forward and towered over Ayden, looking down at him. “Careful now Mr. James, I'd hate to see something happen to you. As your dear cousin has pointed out, I’m not afraid to hurt the fairer sex. Just think what I could do to you, a man. Now I think it’s best you two head on home now before someone comes over here to see what to gossip about.
Remember Mrs. Rosemen, this is a small town and sooner or later everyone will know how you betrayed your own blood for the enemy of this great war.”
The pair of them were ready to walk away to a place where they could plot their next move. "Oh, before you go home, please take these with you and maybe I can have a token of your love so I can have it for the rest of the day."
Freya looked at the man who had just threatened her and her family in utter amusement that he could stand there asking for such things.
"Sure, I'll give you a token of my feelings towards you." The lady of the house marched over and stomps on his foot with the heel of her boot. "There you go, anything else you need Mr. Myers? Maybe a crown to declare yourself king when we all know you are just a jester when it comes to life."
Mr. Myers jumped on one foot, holding the other in his hands. The young man lost his balance and fell to the ground getting caked in dust and other things being slung by the carriages that passed by.
The cousins took the carriage home laughing all the way home and plotting other ways to get her father to see who Mr. Myers really is. He isn’t the charmer with the flute, he's the snake in the basket waiting to strike at any given moment.
“When I left, there was a file on father’s desk. It didn’t have a label on it. I wonder what it was.” Freya said, putting up her hair again after it fell down. “Well if your father is anything like mine, he colors each folder for different things. Like red is love letters from my mother, blue is personal and I want to say white is business because business should be pure like white snow.
What color was the file?” Ayden asks, giving his horse a pet on the nose. She closed her eyes and thought for a minute. “It was white. What does it mean? Is my father going to sell the business or the farm? I know we don’t have any help anymore but it’s our home.”
“I don’t think your father would sell the farm. He is probably just fixing some of the files, cleaning out the old and putting in new papers.” Ayden said, trying to see what was going on in his cousin’s face.
As the two of them made it back home, Ayden went to his house worried about what was going to happen to his uncle and cousin due to Mr. Myers’s hand.
Freya went on to her house and it looked the same as it was before she left. Her first true memory at four years old was riding on her mother’s lap in the family carriage seeing this house, her home with a yard full of wildflowers all the colors of the rainbow in her front yard.
What a sight it was to see them all blowing in the wind. Freya remembered all the tea parties she and her mother had and her mom making halos full of the wild flowers. Then her brothers running about, ruining the tea parties because they were bored. Why must all these memories flood her mind when she is trying to get a clear thought on her life?
A part of her wished they would leave her but then she wants to hold on to them for a few more minutes.
As she walked to her home that is now just a house on their street, all she saw in her mind were those memories playing in her head over and over again.
As she got closer to the house, Freya saw her grandparents' carriage in the driveway getting packed up by her grandfather. "Hello firecracker, your grandmother wanted me to pack everything now before dinner. She thinks I have very poor night sight. I wanted to give you something I got from a young man yesterday when I was getting a shave. A young man you might know." He said with a wink, bringing out a letter out of his pocket. He leaned over and gave her the letter while kissing the top of her head.
She opened the letter that bared his scent on it, the one that gave her the sweetest of dreams that filled her nights.
"Dear southern fire, meet me at the train station at summer’s end in two weeks. I can’t wait to build a home with you to raise a family with you. Until we see each other that day my thoughts of only of you. I’m sending this with my heart so please keep it safe for the next two weeks.
Love your soldier boy,
Johnothan
She looked at the letter again and traced the words with her fingertips, counting the days in her mind and all the things she must do before then.
The lady of the house turned around and saw the flowers in the breeze and said first things first, I must tell father about his son-in-law from the wrong side of the war.
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