Friday, April 12, morning
Trusty happily trotted back home to Middle Street with me. He didn’t know he was going to be left behind the fence that enclosed the dooryard. Keeping Trusty with me if I was going to be at the newspaper office all day by myself was one thing, but I didn’t want to worry about him if Charlie, Owen, and I were all going to be in and out of the office, interviewing people, checking with the telegraph office, and racing back to write stories.
Besides, I wanted to tell Ma and Pa the news. They wouldn’t know about the battle in Charleston Harbor.
Trusty squeezed his way inside the shop ahead of me. Ma already had a customer. Mrs. Pendleton was trying on one of the spring hats that had arrived by coaster last week from New York City. Ma was helping her decide which color flattered her most. She looked up and nodded at me. “Your father’s in the back.”
Had Pa told her he’d gone to the spirit circle last night?
A bang echoed from the room in back of the store. I gathered up Trusty, who gave one reluctant bark, and we went through the back door of the shop into the private area of the building. Trusty wasn’t normally allowed in the store; that was the territory of Snowball, Ma’s large white cat.
Drafts from the cellar windows had been blowing the door from the cold cellar to the kitchen open for weeks now. No doubt the door was banging again. I reminded myself to get new hinges. In the meantime, Ma and I had been piling crates in front of the door. The crates weren’t enough to keep the door closed when the wind was from the north, but they should’ve been enough on this calm, sunny morning.
But, no. The sound I’d heard was the hammer Pa’d dropped. I stared. Pa hadn’t fixed anything since Ethan had died. This morning he was screwing new hinges onto the cellar door.
“You’re home, son! I heard that darn door knocking against the crates again and decided this would be the day to fix it, so I got some new hinges over to the blacksmith shop on Water Street. Hand me that hammer, would you?”
I did.
“You’re awfully quiet. Don’t you like the hinges I chose?” Pa pointed. “They’re bigger than the ones we had before, and fancy, with the ends swirled and all, but the holes for the smaller ones were too loose. These should hold better, and add a bit of elegance to the room.” He hit a hard blow to a nail whose hole would serve for the screw he’d put in next.
“The hinges are fine. Where are the umbrellas and buttons and silk flowers for hats?” The crates and barrels of inventory I hadn’t finished unpacking two nights before were gone.
“I sorted those and got them out into the shop. Your mother likes to get the new merchandise on display as quickly as she can, you know. Always says it brightens folks up to think ahead to summer this time of year.”
It had been months since Pa had shelved any new items for the store, and he’d only done it then because Ma had nagged him. “Are you feeling all right, Pa?”
“Right as rain. Better, since the sun is finally shining! Just woke up this morning and decided I’d rested long enough. Seemed a good day to make a new start. I’m sorry not to have helped out as much as I should have recently, but I’m proud of all you’ve done for your ma, especially with the printing business taking so much of your time.”
He put a screw in the hinge. “You’ve been doing a darn good job with the newspaper. I see you’ve been picking up printing jobs, too. I appreciated your leaving those bulletins for us on the table two nights ago.”
“I thought you’d want to know the news when you woke in the morning.”
Pa swept up the sawdust.
“There’s more news now, Pa. Bad news. The Confederates fired on Fort Sumter down in Charleston Harbor early this morning. We’re shootin’ back.”
Pa stopped sweeping. “Ever since Mr. Lincoln was elected, this country’s gone from bad to worse. But he had to take a stand somewhere. If he let those cotton states think they could just pack up and start their own country, then what would stop any state from getting its britches in a knot and doing the same? And that would be the end of this United States your great-grandfather fought so hard to create.” He shook his head. “I hope the differences are settled soon, Joe. I hate to think what it will mean for all of us if they’re not.”
“The fighting’s just in South Carolina, Pa. The only one in Wiscasset who might be affected is Captain Tucker. He has an office and ships in Charleston, doesn’t he?”
“He does. And I pray you’re right, Joe. I do.”
“In town, no one’s doing anything but waiting for news. Charlie and I are going to stay close to Miss Averill at the telegraph office today. We’re going to lay out the rest of tomorrow’s Herald, and leave the front page for tomorrow, to be sure we include the latest news. Maybe the conflict will be settled by then.”
“Well, good news or bad, this door had to be fixed, and the world will go on. Would you hold the door so I can fasten the last hinge?”
As the final screw was twisted in, Ma opened the door from the shop. “What a sight! My two men working together, and handsome new hinges on that broken door.” She looked around the room. “The kitchen hasn’t looked so tidy in weeks.”
“I’m sorry, Ma,” I said. “I’ve been so busy with the print shop.”
“I know you have; I understand. But still, I’m pleased to have extra help here.” Her smile was for Pa. She hadn’t smiled like that when I’d done ’most everything for the past year and a half. “Joe, did your father tell you what happened last night?”
Pa had told Ma about the spirit circle. It had to be that. “No. He didn’t say anything.”
“Joe, I heard from Ethan last night.” Pa’s voice was proud and excited.
I sat down. I mustn’t let them know Charlie and I had been at the Mansion House.
“I went to hear that spiritualist. You left the broadside on the table, or I wouldn’t have known about her. She’s very young—too young to understand all she’s saying, I suspect. But she spoke to Ethan. He said he was well.” Pa’s smile was the most relaxed it had been since Ethan’s body had been found on the mudflats. “It was a miracle, but it happened. That Nell Gramercy heard him.”
“Your father’s bought tickets for us both to go to her session tomorrow night,” added Ma, “and he’s arranged for us to have a private session with her next week. If she can get in touch with Ethan, then I want to hear, too.”
“It was amazing, son. She knew things about Ethan that only one of us would have known. After I knew he was well, and not angry with me, I slept better last night than I have in months. I don’t know how that girl’s able to get in touch with those who have passed on, but she does. She brought messages from old Mrs. Quinn’s husband and son, too, and told Captain Tucker that one of his ships was in a storm. That ‘storm’ might have even meant the battle you just told me about!”
“Battle?” asked Ma, turning to me. “What battle?”
“Down in South Carolina. The Confederates fired on Fort Sumter, and the Federal forces fired back. It began early this morning,” I explained.
“Just when we were beginning to feel at peace about Ethan,” Ma said, sitting down hard on one of the kitchen chairs and reaching for Pa’s hand. “Let’s pray war won’t take our other son from us.”