Virginia in Bloom, Chapter 4

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Virginia in Bloom, Chapter 4

Emma stared at the doll on the shelf at the store.

Her sisters had plenty of dolls growing up on the farm, but none never as nice as the one she fancied on the shelf.

As Emmitt, she made fun of her sisters, although privately she...or he...had wished to join in on the play. But she knew her brothers would make fun of her if she did.

She also remembered the words of her father: "Carolyn, sometimes I think you want to raise that boy as a girl."

Her mother was overly protective of what was then her youngest son, and for good reason. Talk of war began long before Virginia seceded. Emma could remember her brothers pretending to drill for the militia when the abolitionist John Brown was captured by the Virginia militia at Harper's Ferry a couple of years before the war.

She heard her mother tell her father she intentionally delayed Emmitt's breeching for that very reason and allowed him to wear long curls like his sister. She also remembered that as Emmitt, she didn't protest too much.

Maybe that was the reason she embraced her new identity. In a way, Emma felt like a spy. In their days in Richmond, she found the world of girls...and women in general...quite fascinating. She found the words of Mrs. Ballew to be quite true when it came to women and wartime.

"It is almost easier to be a man," Mrs. Ballew said. "They are the ones who receive all of the glory. Their role is more defined. They are the ones who fight the battles. Of course it is also harder, too, since many of them die horrible deaths."

Emma was ever so mindful of her difficult position. The only men who didn't fight were either too youg, too old, had some type of ailment. Or was a politician. Anyone who didn't fight was generally considered a coward, even if that wasn't true and they played a significant role in society inspite of it.

Emma worried what would happened if people found out she wasn't a girl, even at the age of 13. The age of men drafted to fight in the Army of Northern Virgina crept ever downward, and upward. Boys of 14 were filling the depleted ranks, as were men well into their 60s and 70s.

Emma was also aware of a few 13-year-olds now in the ranks.

"It does bother me sometimes," Emma confided to Rebecca.

But Emma was also fascinated with her new role. Women were carrying an amazing burden with the men off at war that really seemed ignored. They shouldered many of the reponsibilities with their families that fathers once took care of.

Her own mother found herself working tirelessly as a seamstress working part time in a factory making uniforms for those unfortunate boys at the front. Women, even girls Emma's age, were training to be nurses and found themselves on battlefields carrying for boys wearing both gray and blue. Women were taking over roles as store clerks, bankers, mill workers to keep what was left of the Confederate economy. Those in the country worked farms, doing what was once considered "men's work."

Emma admired them. She did her best to imitate the proud women of Richmond in their mannerisms and movements, so much to the point she drew praise from Mrs. Ballew that she was ever becoming "a very graceful Southern lady."

It impressed Mrs. Bedell, and even her mother.

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear you'd been my daughter since birth," her mother told Emma one night.

Part of her struggle straddling two gender worlds was the fact that she straddled the world between being a child and an adult, the line of which was becoming more blurred each passing day of the war.

That was one reason the doll in the store captured her attention. She admitted to Rebecca that she found being a girl somewhat of a refuge, her safe place from the world falling apart around her.

"It's quite expensive," Emma told Maggie.

"Especially with the war going on," a woman behind the counter said.

"Well, Emma, if you're nice and do well in your studies, maybe someone will buy you that doll," Mrs. Ballew said as she put her arm around Emma and Maggie.

*****

"Well nurse, how is our patient?" Lucian asked Corinne as she entered the nurse's tent.

"Andy will live," the nurse replied.

Lucian looked down at his friend. He was quite relieved.

"You didn't think you were going to get rid of me that easily, did you Roberts?" Andy groaned and then asked his friend for some water.

"We've been quite worried about you, sir," Lucian joked with his friend, who outranked him. "Don't know what we'd do without you leading us on the front lines against Bobby Lee."

Truth is, he had been deeply worried about his friend. For every soldier dying in battle, nearly three died in camp because of illnesses floating around in such cramp. And Andy had been down a fever for nearly two weeks in the cold, muddy damp camp.

Corrine made sure Andy stayed confined to her tent, lest anyone learn "his secret."

Lucian did his best to cheer his friend up through the last portion of the sickness.

He read from every newspapers he could get his hand on and read a story from the Washington paper about the possible change of command.

"George Meade remains commander of the Army of the Potomac, but rumors still persist Mr. Lincoln will put Grant in charge, especially after his big victory at Chattanooga," Lucian read.

Andy's favorite time was hearing Lucian read letters from home. He was especially amused by the rumors surrounding "Anna Mueller."

Andy laughed when Lucian mentioned the latest rumor that Anna had run off with some farmer and moved west.

"The one part I hate about this is that I can't write to my family," Andy told Lucian.

"So, Andy, when do you think we'll do battle against Bobby Lee again?" Lucian asked.

"Since when are you anxious to get back into the fight?" Andy replied while fighting off a cough.

*****

The boarding house didn't look like a refugee home at wartime when Christmas came around. Mrs. Bedell decorated the house with holly, greenery, ribbons, candles and had a large Christmas tree in the grand living room. She prepared a big feast for her boarders, who exchanged gifts with whatever living they were able to make.

Emma and Rebecca bought their mother and sister books with money they'd earned doing odd jobs. Their mother made them dresses, which they proudly wore on Christmas day.

Their mother's "admirer" brought her a new dress that he smuggled in front Europe against the Yankee blockade.

"I'm hoping this will be the last Christmas we're at war," their mother told Mrs. Bedell.

"I'm not as hopeful," Mrs. Bedell confessed. "This war seems to rage on and on."

Mrs. Ballew stopped by with gifts for her students. She gave Emma a gift wrapped in red and gold.

Emma's eyes lit up when she opened it and saw the doll she admired at store inside.

"She is so beautiful, thanks Mrs. Ballew!" she said as she gave her teacher a hug.

"You are quite welcome dear child," Mrs. Ballew said. "You have done a wonderful job in my class."

Mrs. Ballew stayed for a while as party guests sang Christmas carols while Mrs. Bedell played piano. The party concluded with Silent Night.

"Mrs. Walker, can I talk with you for a minute?" Mrs. Ballew asked Emma's mother before she left.

"Yes, sure, let's go into the kitchen," Emma's mother said.

Mrs. Ballew said she had been approached by the head nurse at the hospital in Richmond about some of her girls helping out as battlefield nurses.

"Emma, Rebecca and Maggie have taken part in some of the training and care when we've made trips to the hospital," Mrs. Ballew said. "They were the three I recommended."

Emma's mother was reluctant to give her approval, but said she would talk to "her girls."

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Comments

I've always counted on the kindness...

Andrea Lena's picture

of stories like this sweet tale. Thank you!

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Enjoying Your Story

I continue to enjoy your story. It is a great break for me from the fare I tend to serve up, though this last piece hint at a more serious side of the issues at hand. You amply show you appreciate all sweetness can become tiring, that not every day can endless sunshine and roses, especially in the setting you have selected.

I look forward to the way you are weaving this delicate story into a rich tapestry true to the period and the characters that will, I expect, see Emma and the Yankee meet.

Nancy Cole


~ ~ ~

"You may be what you resolve to be."

T.J. Jackson