CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Viola and I worked the rest of that day, making over Teddy's and Louis's old trousers and shirts to fit me.

Careen helped. We got the clothes down from the attic and set up shop in the back parlor. The size of the outfits indicated they were from when my brothers were about thirteen or fourteen.

Careen cut and I measured and we all did the sewing. We found suspenders and old hats, too. And even boots. By afternoon we had two outfits.

We even found boys' underwear.

"Do I have to wear these?" I held up the small clothes.

"You'd best," Viola advised. "Just in case push comes to shove."

"Well, I'm sure glad I didn't get my woman's time of the month yet."

It had been a source of embarrassment to me at first, that I hadn't yet gotten it. But then Viola told me she hadn't gotten hers until she was fifteen. Now I considered myself blessed. I had just turned fourteen. God was good to me.

And then, just before supper, when I was upstairs washing up and Viola and Carol were napping, a carriage pulled up in front, a fancy carriage.

Mother's carriage.

Her footman opened the door. She got out, came up the verandah steps, and pounded the door knocker.

Cannice answered.

I stood at the top of the stairs.

"I have come to see my son," she said. "Is he here?"

"He's in his study, ma'am," Cannice said.

Mother pushed her way into the hall and into Teddy's study. She did not bother closing the door all the way.

I crept downstairs and listened outside.

"What's this I hear about you sending around a note to Garrard asking him to let Viola go along on the march?"

"If it's any of your business, she wants to go to look after Leigh Ann."

"I told him you were sending her because she's pregnant. And not married. And a disgrace to the family. So he's going to let her go."

I could see through the door, which was ajar, Teddy standing behind his desk holding an open newspaper. And Mother holding her riding whip.

"How dare you say such," Teddy said with contempt.

"I'll say what I please."

"You were in the family way with Louis a few months before you married Pa, I'm given to understand. How could you demean your daughter so?"

"She's not your concern!" Mother screamed at him.

Teddy said she was, as much as I was, especially now that she'd taken up with that Garrard popinjay who was addicted to liquor and women.

She called Teddy a no-count rogue.

He called her a Northern witch.

At which juncture she raised her riding crop and swung it expertly.

It hit his shoulder, ripping his shirt, then continued on its journey to the side of his face, slashing it.

He laughed, though it made his shoulder and face bleed.

At that point I burst through the door and ran toward her. "Don't you dare," I screamed. I took her unawares and, doing so, wrested the riding crop from her and threw it across the room. "Don't you dare come in here and treat Teddy like that. You have no right. You left us! You don't care about any of us! You have no right!"

I was bawling, unashamedly. I began to hit her with both my hands.

"Leigh Ann!" Teddy came out from behind his desk and seized me. I fought him, but he got both my hands behind me and secured my wrists until they hurt.

I was sobbing.

Mother held her face where I'd hit her. "So this is the kind of child you're raising. The kind that hits her mother."

Still holding my wrists, Teddy said, "Apologize to your mother."

"I won't."

He gave me a couple of shakes. "Do as I say, for God's sake." There was pleading in his voice, even a hint of desperation.

I knew I had to, for his sake. But by all the gods above, I did not want to.

"I'm sorry," I said.

Teddy released me. "Now go. Get out of here."

"Can I just say one thing? Please?"

Teddy closed his eyes. That was my answer.

"Viola is married," I told my mother. "Her husband was killed at Richmond. And Major McCoy knows it. It's in his records. And if he knows it, General Garrard knows it."

I looked at Teddy. He nodded his head approvingly. His face was bleeding. I curtsied to my mother and left the room.

***

That night I'd just put myself to bed when there was a knock on my door and Teddy came in.

"Get dressed in your boys' clothes and come out back," he said. That was all.

I did so, quickly. What was going on? Anything,, I told myself. Anything might be going on. Was he going to sneak me away?

The house was quiet, and something warned me to be quiet, too. I sneaked out the back door, deciding whether to take one of the many lanterns that were at the ready there. But I did not need one. The moon was full and cast a light as clear as day.

Sure enough, a distance away from the house, down by the grape arbor, there were two figures waiting. I crept through the already dew-wet grass toward them.

Viola and Teddy.

Teddy held a lantern. He had a plaster on his face where Mother had hit him.

Viola held a pair of scissors and a comb in one hand and a hand mirror in the other.

Between them was a chair.

I stopped a few feet from them. "No," I said. "No, Teddy, please. I'm sorry I've been naughty. I'm sorry I hit Mother."

"Sit down in the chair, please," he said quietly. "Viola is tired and needs to go to bed."

I stood rigid.

He came over and took me gently by the arm and sat me down in the chair.

"This could save your life, honey," Viola told me. "We have to do it. It isn't on account of anything you did. Teddy wouldn't punish you this way. It'll grow back, prettier than ever. Sometimes, especially in this heat, I wish I could cut mine."

I sat in a daze. Viola undid the braid that I put my hair in at night and combed out my long, curly hair. Tears came quietly down my face.

Teddy stood next to her with the lantern so she would have good light.

Inside, my heart was breaking as Viola combed and snipped and combed and snipped. I could feel rather than see the hair falling to the ground.

My hair. It had always been my vanity! It reached well below my shoulders and was naturally curly. I usually wore it pulled high off my forehead and tied with a ribbon on top, with some of it falling down on the sides of my face. Everyone said that with such hair, my upturned nose, my large brown eyes, and the dimple in my chin, I was a beautiful child.

Teddy worried about me being a beautiful child. I think that was why he was so strict with me.

By now Viola was cutting up to my cheekbones. She stopped and looked at Teddy. "Lots of boys wear it to about here," she told him. "Especially ruffians. They don't bother cutting their hair."

He considered that. He put his hand under my chin and turned my face to look at him. Did I look enough of a boy to please him? Enough of a boy not to be a beautiful child anymore?

He released me. "All right," he said, "that's good. Thank you, Viola. You'd best get to bed now."

Viola stood in front of me with the hand mirror. "You look kind of saucy. You want to see?"

"No," I said.

She kissed me on the forehead. "Don't be angry with me. You'll be glad we did this, you'll see. Now come on, let's go to bed."

I started to get out of the chair, but Teddy put his hand on my shoulder and held me back. "You go on, Viola. We have something else to attend to."

She looked from him to me. "Is everything all right?"

"It's fine," he assured her. "I just want to show Leigh Ann a few moves to protect herself if she has to."

Viola nodded and started toward the house.

Teddy extinguished the lantern, set it on the ground, then turned and gestured that I should follow.

I did. What now? I followed him across the grass. What was this damned crocodile of a brother of mine about now?

Of a sudden he halted and turned around. "Now," he said in not so friendly a tone, "I'm going to teach you how to defend yourself in case they discover you're a girl and some man comes at you with devious intentions. Do you know what I mean by devious intentions?"

"Yes," I said in an equally unfriendly tone. "If he can't control himself and wants to touch me in all kinds of ways. And maybe do more." I said it with satisfaction. "Louis explained all that to me."

He nodded, a little surprised. "All right. I'm coming at you now. I'm going to grab your arm. Fight me off. Hit me, kick me, do anything you can to defend yourself."

I stood staring at him, uncertain.

"Come on. I mean it. You can do it. Have at it. I know you're angry with me. Get it out. I give you permission."

He came forward and grabbed my arm roughly and pulled me toward him.

I did the only thing I knew how to do. The thing that Viola had once told me to do.

I lifted one leg swiftly, and with my heavy, laced-up brogan, I kicked him in the groin.

There, I thought, that's for cutting off my hair.

He yelled and crumpled to his knees, clutching himself.

I stood there, paralyzed with fear. Oh God, I thought, what have I done? Oh, God, he'll kill me now.

"Where"—his breath was coming in short gasps—"where in hell did you learn to do that?"

"Viola taught me. She said that would stop any man."

He was breathing heavily. What should I do?

"Yeah, well, she's right."

"Do you need help? You want me to get somebody?"

"You do and I'll skin you alive. You tell anybody about this and I'll..."

More heavy breathing. He was leaning over, like he was going to throw up.

"Go in the house," he ordered. "Now."

I ran. Inside the back door I turned and looked.

He was throwing up. Well, I decided, that does it. He'll never speak to me again. As of now, we are definitely finished.