Chapter 4

Although the lessons had begun well, after two weeks, Adeline’s students had started to become restless. Maybe it’s me. It had become increasingly difficult to keep their attention even though they were progressing well. Several times during the lesson she’d had to call them back to order, winning her a disapproving look from Corporal Smith. That, coupled with her unfruitful search for her family, made it hard to keep a smile on her face.

Options were few and leads fewer. After discreetly questioning Millie and other free blacks in town, she still hadn’t learned anything about her family. In her questioning she was careful not to mention that she was seeking information about them. The task of finding them was too important to leave to someone else.

Disheartening. The same downcast mood was reflected in the men’s faces. She wasn’t alone.

She had a few students who still showed a sparkle of excitement in their eyes when they arrived, but for most, including Corporal Smith, the enthusiasm had disappeared. Well, Corporal Smith never had it. As a matter of fact, anytime she pointed out the fact that he could read, he glowered at her.

She had hoped that he would provide an example for the men of someone who had bettered himself through education. But he seemed determined to hide his intelligence. And after their little argument the other day, she wanted to stay as far away from him as possible in the small space.

Today the troops shuffled in, their conversation muted. Corporal Smith wore a neutral expression.

“Good morning,” she said as cheerfully as she could. She received a halfhearted “Good morning” from the men in return.

I need to change tactics.

For the past couple of weeks, the routine was for the men to come in, retrieve their primers, and begin work until review time. That wasn’t going to work today.

She reached into her bundle and pulled out a small tattered book. An old friend. She cracked the cover and began to read out loud.

The words flowed easily. She’d read Rip Van Winkle to almost every child she’d ever taught since finishing college. The wonder of the story always pulled them in. She’d thought of the book last night after spending an evening talking to some of the people in the freedman’s village. There was such hopelessness there. The dream of freedom had turned into a nightmare. As she listened to others’ stories, her own nightmare had filtered into her mind.

She had left Virginia not knowing what she was doing. She had followed her father into the night and thus found her freedom by accident. But it was not the dream she’d thought it would be. It never became that. Mama and Michael weren’t with them and Papa was always at work. All alone, she clung to the Hunters, willing to do anything to help them so she wasn’t left alone in the room she and Papa lived in.

It was a happy day when she started school. She soon made friends, and that helped stave off the loneliness. But it did nothing for the pain of returning to that tiny room and knowing that her mother and brother were probably still working in the fields. She cooked, cleaned, and made sure Papa could focus all of his energy on working to reunite the family. Some nights she would read to him. He seemed to enjoy knowing that she was learning to read. After she would shut the book, he would place a hand on her head and say in a weary, heartbroken voice, “That’s a good girl.”

Rip Van Winkle was one of his favorite stories, and he chuckled at the idea that anyone could sleep that long. After one particularly hard day, he looked at her with sad eyes and said, “I wonder what it would be like to go to sleep a slave and wake up free.”

Her memories of Papa wove between the words on the page. She didn’t realize that the room had grown quiet. She stopped reading and looked up. All the faces in the room stared back at her. Corporal Smith wore a frown.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked.

A chorus of “No!” and “Keep going!” sounded back at her. So she kept going, ignoring the deepening scowl on Corporal Smith’s face.

When she ended the reading, making sure to conclude at a spot that would keep the men interested in what would happen next, she closed the book. “I hope you enjoyed the reading.”

Hoots and cheers went up. But the corporal’s expression never changed. He abruptly stood. “It’s time to go.”

Adeline knew for a fact that they had more time, but she didn’t object. A few men let out groans, which only seemed to worsen Corporal Smith’s disposition.

Once the men were outside the door, he wheeled around. “Miss Barris, I appreciate what you are doing here, but I do not think it is wise to fill the men’s heads with silly stories.”

Adeline positioned herself, spine straight and chin up, as if she were handling an unruly student. “Novels are not silly.”

“In light of what they are facing, reading a story about a man falling asleep to avoid work is ridiculous. Their lives will be nothing but hard work.”

She held her ground. “This story transports them to another place. Novels help them escape their hard lives, even if it is only for a short time.”

“Only for them to be cruelly reminded that nothing has changed.”

“Spoken like a man who has never lost himself in a good book.”

Corporal Smith clenched his jaw and spoke through his teeth. “You don’t know anything about me, and I would appreciate it if you don’t make assumptions.”

“I don’t need to make assumptions.” She put her hands on her hips. He will not make me feel like I’ve done something wrong. “What you do not seem to understand is that reading an interesting story to the men makes them motivated to learn.”

He huffed. “I don’t see how reading motivates them when they are facing life and death.”

Her anger crested, and she felt as flush as his face was. “Are you certain? A good passage from a book can motivate people in ways you’ve never imagined.”

He folded his arms. “I disagree.”

“I’ll prove you wrong.” She reached to the podium and grabbed the first book her hand fell on. She had been trained to perform dramatic readings, and they had proven over and over again to be a valuable tool.

Without breaking eye contact with Corporal Smith, she let the book fall open.

She glanced down. The book was her Bible, and it had opened to the Song of Solomon.

Oh dear.

She studied the passage, knowing if she broke her stance or turned to a different section, he would take this as a concession. His shoulders were still tense, as if he was bracing for a blow and preparing to return one. She cleared her throat and began to read with her richest, airiest voice.

“‘He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.’” She didn’t look up, but she could sense that the corporal’s posture had changed, his annoyance cooled.

She continued, trying not to think about what she was saying to him. “‘Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples. For I am sick of love.’”

Adeline dared a peek at him. His face had changed from a deep red of anger to the hottest pink flush. “‘His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me.’” She recited the rest by heart. Which she shouldn’t have. Because the minute her eyes left the page, the image of Corporal Smith’s hand winding into her hair leapt to her mind.

She inhaled deeply, an attempt to recover her senses. “How can you say that is not motivating?”

He blinked, his expression like Rip Van Winkle’s after he awakened to a world he didn’t know. Like he too was seeing what she saw. His gaze flicked down to her lips, lingered for a moment, and then down to the Bible. He took it from her hand and snapped it shut. “Good day, Miss Barris.”

He left the room with the thudding of boots. Only once he was gone did her heart slow down.

Private Howard shifted his weight from foot to foot as he held the Bible open on his palms. Adeline leaned forward from the front row pew where she was sitting next to Corporal Smith. She gave Private Howard an encouraging smile, although her emotions swirled in many different directions. The men had found renewed interest after a few more episodes of her reading aloud and were now eager to show her how they had improved.

He cleared his throat and began to read. “‘The Lord is my she—’” He moved the Bible closer to his face.

“Shepherd,” Adeline supplied.

“Right. ‘The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.’”

Adeline nodded, encouraging him as he read for the first time in his life. She bit her lip to fight back tears as Howard continued. Hearing learners read for the first time was like watching someone receive salvation. Both opened a person up to a whole new world. Adeline would gladly concede that salvation was far more important, but learning to read was wondrous too.

She was also glad to have a scripture that didn’t involve love or romance. She had fought to keep a blush off her face when she saw Corporal Smith this morning.

“‘Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,’” Howard read more confidently now, reaching the end of the passage. “‘And I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.’”

There was a pause before applause filled the chapel. Adeline clasped her hands over her heart. “Very good, Private Howard.”

He gave a nervous laugh, his relief showing on his face. “Thank you.”

Corporal Smith applauded too, but much less enthusiastically than everyone else. “Good job.”

Adeline switched places with Private Howard, a tiny ache of longing making her drag her steps. The room felt cooler as she left Corporal Smith’s side. She focused on the group, chastising herself for her silly thoughts. This was a temporary assignment. Once she found her mother and brother, she would be leaving for Pennsylvania. She would probably never see Corporal Smith again. “Anyone else want to read?”

Another private, Holt, pulled out his drilling manual.

Corporal Smith sat up straighter.

“Please begin, Private Holt.”

With halting words, he began reading a portion of the drill manual. “‘With the left hand turn the musket to the right so that the lock plate is facing to the front….’” He stopped, but his eyes continued to move across the page.

Adeline stood. “Do you need help?”

Private Holt looked up at her with wonder in his eyes. “No, I—” In a flash, he turned, grabbed his weapon, and rushed outside.

Adeline hurried to the door right behind Corporal Smith. The other men crowded in the door behind them.

“Private, what has gotten into you?” Corporal Smith called out, moving down the stairs. Adeline followed him.

“Sir, I understand this now.” Private Holt read a little more and then placed the book on the grass in front of him. “‘With the left hand turn the musket to the right so that the lock plate is facing to the front.’” And then he performed the motion.

Corporal Smith stopped up short and she nearly ran into his back. “Yes, that is correct,” he said in such a quiet voice that she wasn’t sure if Private Holt heard him.

Adeline let out a cheer, and soon the other men were cheering with her.

Private Holt grinned like a child with his first toy. “Sir, I can do the rest of them.”

They all stood and watched as Corporal Smith called out the commands and Private Holt read the book and then performed the motions. Tears blurred her vision. She had wanted to teach them to read. She had done that and helped them to be better soldiers. Exactly what Corporal Smith said they needed to be.

The other men filed out with their manuals and weapons and got into formation. Adeline took a seat on the chapel stairs. Corporal Smith took them through several rounds of drilling. She couldn’t see his face from where he was standing, but she had never seen him stand taller. The men were reading their manuals and trying to perform the motions. Not the neatest drilling she’d ever seen, but they were trying. If someone got stuck on a word in their manuals, Corporal Elim would go over and help him. A few times he took up a weapon and demonstrated the action in slow motion.

He performed each command, his body moving with both precision and grace.

Adeline sat and watched them and for a time forgot about her quest and her mistakes. This was something she had done right. If she did this a hundred more times in addition to finding her family, maybe the guilt would lift.

When Corporal Smith gave the “Rest!” command, Adeline stood and applauded. Every day she’d left the fort with Corporal Smith leading the men straight to the parade field. Often she’d stand off to the side and watch until the sun got too hot. Private Holt had told her that they’d spent hours going through the commands but it didn’t seem to make much difference. Today, however, the men had performed better than all the other times she’d watched them.

The men grinned, patting each other on the back. Their smiles were infectious. When Corporal Smith turned, he too was smiling.

Adeline walked over to him. He gave her a short bow. “Thank you, Miss Barris.”

She folded her arms. “Oh, are you admitting that you were wrong about the reading?”

“I guess I am.”

“Your humility is very becoming,” she said, giving him a sassy glance. The problem was that his humility was extremely becoming. His pride was palpable and seemed to open up his whole soul to her. He was proud of his men. He cared for them and his joy was for their success.

“I will try to remember that.” He tipped his cap. “Now if we can be released from class, I would like to take my soldiers on a parade march around the fort.”

She laughed and clapped her hands. “Don’t let me keep you.”

“Thank you again,” he said, his voice lowered. “You did what I couldn’t.”

“No, but you did your part. You taught them not to give up and got them disciplined to drill. I simply gave them the tools to understand it.”

He took in a deep breath. “You are too gracious.” His expression shifted from outright joy to something with admiration mixed in. Something she couldn’t place. An emotion she could spend all day seeing. One he was directing at her.

Her words choked in her throat. “Well—”

His eyes roamed her face, and just as when she had read the Song of Solomon, his gaze rested for the briefest second on her lips. Her face heated and her mouth went dry.

Then he took a jerky step backward. “We should go.”

“Yes, of course.” Especially before you act on that look in your eyes.