Chapter Sixty-five: Rachel.

Rachel Storm had always known her husband, Michael, had some deep seated problem with Benjamin. She had never been sure what it had been. He had welcomed his children with joy, although she had known he had not wanted children at one time prior to their marriage.

The death of their young son Henry had been difficult and she often felt it brought up Michael's mourning over his siblings and mother's deaths. It was something he never wanted to talk about so Rachel had tried to respect that over these many years.

She had not wanted to think that Michael was putting the blame of Henry's drowning on his son, Benjamin, although the thought had occurred to her more than once. And he often went through periods of sadness and depression, and even anger.

She also was aware that he would drink heavily when he went away. She abhorred drinking but never chose to confront him on the issue. When he returned his clothes would smell of liquor and smoke. But they also carried the scent of a woman.

So Rachel had known he needed time away to escape the feelings he had buried. Each time he left on his trip, Rachel would pray that he could find the peace he needed and would return home safely.

Now that his anger at his son, Benjamin, had been admitted and resolved, she prayed that he would no longer have to go away for a few days to "refresh" himself. She also prayed that the Lord would forgive his sins.

These last weeks he had been a much happier man, and she thanked the Lord for that.

But she now was praying for her own health.

The waves of nausea came again and she put her face over the bucket but nothing came up, only dry heaves that cramped her stomach. As soon as the nausea let up she again lay on the bed, pulling the quilt up around her.

She had been fighting this for several hours and she hoped Michael would be home soon. Her fever was higher, and she had gone back and forth from chills to sweat.

She knew it was getting worse and was beginning to become uncomfortable being at home alone.

She dozed off to sleep and when she awoke, Michael was standing beside the bed.

"You having a bad time, Rachel? I see the vomit bucket here."

"Yes, it has not been a good day," she told him.

He reached over and put his hand on her forehead. "You're burning up."

"I know. I think my fever went up higher. I want the quilt and then I don't want it."

"Let me get some cold wet rags for you." He looked at the half empty gla.s.s sitting on the bedside table. "Have you been drinking water?"

"Not much, it won't stay down."

Michael slept little that night, half alert to Rachel's every move. He had lowered her fever a bit, giving her some barleywater with lemon juice to drink and had it stayed down.

But when the sun came up and the roosters could be heard, Rachel's fever was still with her and she was hallucinating some, and the one thing in between her illogical comments was her asking for Benjamin.

Michael had to get the doctor to come and to get a message to his son that his mother was ill and wanted to see him. He would get someone to go to the telegraph office in town and send a message to Cincinnati in hopes Benjamin would come.

Two days later, Benjamin arrived at his mother's bedside. Although he found his mother to be weak, her fever had broken and she seemed to be much better, according to his father.

Michael told him, "Your Mama gave us quite a scare. The doctor couldn't do much for her and said it really was up to her to get well and he wasn't too sure she would."

"Well, what kind of doctoring is that?" Benjamin asked as he squeezed his mother's hand.

"Doctor Northland stopped by earlier today and said she will be fine now," Michael added.

"Well, Mama you need to eat what you can now," Benjamin said. "You don't want to have to stay in that bed too much longer, it drains you as much as having the sickness does."

"I'll be fine, son. I'm glad you're here. Your daddy got pretty worried, I know. Even with my fever and craziness I knew he was pretty worried."

"Ah, heck Rachel, I knew you'd be fine. But you kept asking to see Benjamin. So I obliged and sent for him."

She smiled. "Thank you, Michael," she said.

"Well, I'll be here for a few days," Benjamin told her. "I told my boss, Mr. Halstead I wouldn't be away too long and would try to write up some news stories while I'm here."

Benjamin had something else on his mind besides his mother's well-being and stories to write for the Cincinnati Daily, and he knew coming home would stir up those thoughts he had been trying very hard to suppress.

He had not come back for James Garrison's funeral when he heard about his death. He did not come home out of respect for Lucinda, but also out of respect for James.

He knew it would have been difficult not being able to comfort Lucinda. In fact, he thought he probably could not comfort her at all. After all, she did love her husband. Her actions had shown that.

But now it had been several months and he had a decision to make soon before he went back to Cincinnati.

He wanted to see Lucinda, but he was in conflict. Seeing her would bring all his feelings to the surface, and in doing so, pain comes along with those feelings. And if he then had to walk away, he did not know if he wanted to take more pain with him on his journey.

Pain. d.a.m.n the pain, he thought. Seems he would be used to it being a part of him after all these years.

But, no, he was not. He still found ways to bury it, previously with alcohol, lately with work, and even with a little s.e.x.

But as always, those things never took the pain away of not having Lucinda.

Chapter Sixty-six: Friday, the 26th Day of May 1865.

Camp 23rd Iowa near Mobile, Alabama Dear wife, I take this present opportunity to write you and let you know I am well and enjoying myself the best I can. We are still in the old camp and not knowing how long we will be here.

The 20th Wisconsin Regiment belonging to our brigade has got mustering out papers. I understand they are to be discharged the second day of June. Our officers have orders to square up their books ready for mustering out on the 15th of June. And then we will start for Iowa.

There is to be a grand review of the troops here in a few days. Our time is not very long if we have to serve it out. You need not look for me until you see me coming and then you can look, for things are uncertain in the army. From what I can tell I think we will be home by the Fourth of July or on the road at least. The shorter the time we have to serve, the longer it seems to be. Every day that rolls around makes me want to see you more and more. I long to see the time when I get home, so we can have some more pleasures. I would love to see all of you, my dear.

General Andrews reviewed us and said we would have one more review before we go home. I understand the review is to take place on old General Jackson Battleground at New Orleans. I presume this is a flying report for I have not seen it in the papers and if it was that would not confirm it unless the commanding general's name was at the bottom. It is reported to take place on June 1, and if so we may then go home.

Well Jane, time is moving slow for me. We are four miles south of Mobile. It is a very nice camp but very lonesome to me. We are on the Sh.e.l.l road and there is a great deal of travel on the road but it does not interest me. I see a great many of the soldiers pleasure riding with the ladies of Mobile. I am glad to see soldiers enjoying themselves.

Yesterday, a little after 2 o'clock in the afternoon one of the most saddest accidents happened in Mobile since the war began. An explosion of ammunition that was stored in a cotton press in the upper part of the city. There was about two hundred ton of ammunition, a large quant.i.ty of powder and a great deal of fixed sh.e.l.l for large cannons. Fixed sh.e.l.l is sh.e.l.l that is filled and primed ready for use. The ammunition was being removed and a soldier accidentally dropped a percussion sh.e.l.l and it exploded and set fire to the powder and it exploded destroying about half of the city and three or four boats. Eight blocks were all destroyed, tearing down buildings, hardly leaving one brick upon another and setting fire to a great many buildings. About eight square blocks making thirty-two blocks was more or less damaged, and the transport USS Colonel Cowles was set on fire and burned up.

The Cate Dale was blown to pieces by the concussion in the air and two more boats destroyed that I cannot name.

Up to this morning about two hundred persons dead and more wounded have been taken out from the buildings and rubbish that is throughout the city. No one can tell how many more will be found. A great many of our soldiers were quartered in cotton presses nigh the place where the explosion took place and the buildings were thrown down on them and killed and wounded the majority of them. People that have seen the destruction say it is the horriblest they ever have seen. Men, women and children were hurt. Some with their legs and arms broken, some with their legs and arms torn off. Men were killed a mile from where the explosion took place. Men were killed but not a scratch to be seen on their person. The concussion in the air is what did the damage to the city. I never heard such a report in my life. Sh.e.l.ls are exploding yet this morning. It is supposed that about two or three thousand souls have been hurt and the loss to the city is estimated at ten million ($10,000,000) of dollars.

That is about one third of the ammunition surrendered by General d.i.c.k Taylor. It ma.s.sed a train of cars that was standing ready to go out. Considerable of the property destroyed was government property.

Well Jane, this is the morning of the 27th. The reason I did not finish my letter yesterday was that Downs and I went to the city to see the destruction. I never saw a town so badly injured in my life. It is worse than any place we have seized. There were not many White soldiers hurt. No regiment of White soldiers was covered up in the ruins as was the first report. The two Negro companies that were at work with the ammunition was all destroyed. Downs and I went to the place the ammunition was before exploding as we could see the smoke. Sh.e.l.ls were still and continue to burst this morning.

While we were there we saw a human of some kind. His lower extremities were all gone as high as the upper part of his hips, both arms gone, his head gone except for one ear. I presume it probably was a Negro but he was so badly burned that you could not tell. He had cotton sticking to the skin which gave it the appearance of a part of a sheep. But by close examination you could tell it had been a human.

A sentinel said that a sh.e.l.l exploded about two seconds before the great explosions. A great deal of cotton was destroyed also but the fire engines are at work trying to squelch the fire as fast as possible. I saw a woman that was very uneasy. She was watching the cotton in one building especially, and apparently it belonged to her. A great deal of the cotton belonged to individuals and it was their only way of making any thing at present.

Well Jane, it is now the 28th and I will finish the letter. I am now a sergeant. I drank a quart of b.u.t.termilk this morning at breakfast and it cost me ten cents. I thought it was excellent. I have had all the blackberries that I could eat several times but they are not as good here as they are in the North.

Yesterday a circular came to the brigade headquarters from General Granger announcing the surrender of General Kirby Smith. I presume it is so. Now some say with his surrender we may not get home so soon, but I think we will get home just as soon.

Your affectionate husband, Silas

Chapter Sixty-seven: Reflections.

Denny Storm carried a bucket of chicken feed toward the hen house. Walking with him was his great grandfather, Alexander.

Alexander told him, "Your daddy is going to be so proud of you, Denny. You're a big help to your Mama now that you're bigger."

Denny smiled and seemed to stand a little taller. "Daddy will be home soon, won't he?"

"It should be not too far away. The war is coming to an end, but sometimes it takes a little time to get all the duties done that have to be finished."

"But Mama said his time is up before long."

"It is by sometime in August but he might head home before that."

"Really?"

"Maybe, we will see."

Denny emptied the feed bucket. He stood quietly and appeared to be watching the chickens as they ate but he had a frown on his face and Alexander knew something was on the youngster's mind.

"What you thinking about, Denny?" he asked.

He looked up at Alexander. "Maybe Daddy won't want me to go to school."

Alexander chuckled. "Don't you worry about that. Your Daddy wants you to be smart and get lots of knowledge from school."

"Will he like Katrina better?"

"Better than what?"

"Better than me. I heard Mama tell Katrina she will be Daddy's little princess."

Alexander couldn't help but laugh. "Don't you worry about that," he said. "Little girls have a way to make Daddy's happy but boys make them happy and proud. And he's going to be proud of how you've grown up while he's been gone."

"He's been gone a long time fighting those Rebel men. Maybe he forgot me. I don't want the war to have changed him."

"Denny, everything will be fine when he comes home. You will be so happy to have your Daddy home again."

Denny had a sober look. "How many weeks left to count?"

Alexander put his hand to his chin and tapped his long, thin index finger on his lips, "Hmm," he said. "I would guess maybe eight weeks or ten weeks. 'Bout the time the corn in the field is sweet and full of golden corn silk."

Denny looked across the yard toward the field. The corn stalks were now standing up straight and growing upward with each day's sunlight.

He said, "Can you really hear the corn grow like you told me, Pap?"

Alexander chuckled. "Sure you can Denny, you just have to be very quiet and listen."

Denny reached for his great grandfather's hand and said, "Come on, let's go listen, Pap."

Elizabeth Jane stood near her window, Katrina in her arms, as she watched her son and Alexander walk across the yard toward the corn field.

By the time Silas would return the crops would be at full production. At times she wondered if he would be proud of how she kept the farm going while he'd been gone. She had been able to keep the money coming in with the harvest of the wheat and corn and considering she had the help of family and a few others, she felt she had done a good job of it.

And she could only hope Silas would agree. She had been careful with money but when Silas was unable to send money home, things occasionally had been tight. Prices had gone up. Food, and especially prices of clothing. Now that Silas said he could sew she might put him to work helping to make their clothes.

She put Katrina down to play with toys and went into the kitchen to prepare lunch.

A few minutes later, Denny came bouncing into the house followed by Alexander.

"Mama, we heard the corn growing!" Denny told her.

She smiled at Alexander. "Did Pap show you how to do that?"

"Yes, it's easy. You just bend down and put your ear near the corn, and tell the birds to be quiet, and the crickets, too and then ... it is so exciting! I think next time I will take my ruler out there and measure it."

He looked at Katrina who had one of his school books in her hand and hurried over to her. "No, no Katrina, that is not to play with." He took the book from her. "You find something else," he said. "When you are old enough to read then you can have it."

Elizabeth Jane asked, "Did you wash up? Lunch is ready."

Alexander spoke up. "We did, Janie."

They enjoyed lunch and after the children went to play, Elizabeth Jane poured cups of tea for her and Alexander.

As she sat down at the table she said, "I was thinking about Silas coming home soon. It's been such a long time. In some ways, I'm nervous."