Tuesday, April 16, evening
I quoted Mr. Pendleton the sum of $5.00 to print one hundred identification cards for the soldiers, and Charlie went off to tell him. That would be a fast job: Not much type to set, and I’d checked; I had enough of the heavier card stock needed.
With that $5.00, I’d have $54.45. Only $10.50 to go! But it was already Tuesday, and the money was due next Monday. I needed that job printing the Act.
While Charlie was off talking with Mr. Pendleton, I spoke with Mr. Bowman, who agreed we could also print sections of the Act as an insert to the Herald, where we’d add details of how it was to be implemented locally.
By the time Charlie and I were both back at the Herald office, I’d decided to send Charlie home for the night.
“I’ll get everything organized so we can print the cards first thing in the morning, and start setting type for the Act,” I told him. “If we’re fresh then, we’ll be able to work through tomorrow, except that I’ll have to take an hour or so off in the afternoon. I promised my parents I’d watch the store. By that time we’ll all need a little time off.”
Since Charlie was still convinced Nell was a fraud, I didn’t want him to know that Ma and Pa were going to consult her. That was our family’s business, not Charlie’s, although I knew he’d probably find out somehow. Wiscasset was a small town. Few people could keep secrets here.
Charlie nodded. “I can deliver the cards while you’re at the store.”
“Good plan,” I agreed. I kept thinking of the $5.00 Mr. Pendleton had agreed to pay. I wanted those cards finished and the money in my box before he changed his mind. “I’ll stop and fetch Owen on my way to the office,” I added. “I’ll be here by six-thirty tomorrow morning. Sharp.”
“I’ll check at the telegraph office,” Charlie volunteered, “to make sure nothing happened down south overnight.”
“Agreed.”
“See you tomorrow,” said Charlie, pulling on his jacket. “I’m curious to hear what people are saying about this afternoon’s meeting. Travelers may not be interested in local details, but some Wiscasset men come to drink in the Mansion House tavern. I suspect there’ll be some interesting talk tonight.”
“I wonder who’ll volunteer.” I wondered out loud. “Captain Tucker said we need one hundred men. One hundred!”
“We should be finding out soon enough,” said Charlie. “Good night!”
As I’d anticipated, it only took me an hour to set the type for the soldier’s identification card. I hated thinking of what such cards might be used for, but was careful to make them large enough to inscribe with the information needed, and small enough to put in a pocket. I wished there was some way to keep them from smearing in the rain, but all ink smeared. Soldiers would have to wrap their cards in cloth or leather.
It was dark by the time I left the office and walked slowly toward home.
What would families do when their men were gone? What would the town do? Men farmed the land, ran the stores, and fished the rivers. They were pharmacists and smithies, shipbuilders and ministers, like Reverend Merrill. They were doctors and lawyers. How could these men just leave and turn into soldiers?
For a few young men, like Edwin Smith—who’d finished his time at Bowdoin College and hadn’t yet married or opened his law practice—it might make sense to go. But there weren’t a hundred Edwin Smiths in Wiscasset.
Our kitchen was warm and smelled of baked apples and cinnamon. Ma was pulling a hot dried-apple pie out of the oven, and Pa had gotten his Bible down off the shelf in the corner of the kitchen where it always sat. Trusty wagged his tail in happiness at my arrival.
Pa never read the Bible unless it was Sunday.
“Mmm!” I said. “Apple pie! What’s the occasion?”
“I put the pie in before we closed up the store and went to that meeting,” said Ma. “I hoped you’d be coming back here soon so we could all eat together. With the world moving so fast these days, we’ve hardly seen you in the past week.”
“Sorry. I have to get up early tomorrow, too. I’ve been asked to print copies of that Act Mr. Bowman read from—enough copies for every town in the county.” I sat down at the table. Pa moved the Bible to one side and Ma started cutting large slices of her pie. “But I haven’t forgotten I’m to be here to watch the store for you tomorrow, while you talk with Miss Gramercy. What time is that?”
“One o’clock,” said Pa. “We appreciate your taking the time, son. I expect we’ll be getting many customers tomorrow, as people start thinking about what was talked about today at the meeting, and making their decisions.”
“Who do you think’ll go to soldiering?” I asked, filling my mouth with crisp crust and sweet apple filling. “It’s a big decision, to sign up to fight, and be gone two years.”
“Thank goodness you’re too young to be thinking about it for yourself, son,” said Ma. “Eighteen is still young to be going. I’d hate to be the mother of one of the boys who sign up.”
“No; I’m not thinkin’ that way,” I said. “I love my country, but soldierin’ isn’t for me. I’m good with words and accounts. I have the newspaper to run here, and I can help you and Pa with the store. In war, people will want news, and they’ll need provisions. There’ll be plenty for me to do in Wiscasset. And Captain Tucker said he was settin’ up that Home Guard. I’ll ask if I can help with that. I suspect I can make more difference here in Wiscasset than I could as one more soldier on a battlefield.”
She smiled. “I’m glad you’re thinking that way, Joe. After losing your brother, I don’t want to lose you, too. Tonight I suspect a lot of boys in town are aching to go and be heroes.”
“Could be. Charlie would like to go, I think, but he’s not eighteen, so Wiscasset’s stuck with him, too,” I said.
Ma looked over at Pa, who’d been quiet the whole time. “You want to say something, Abiel?”
“Son, sounds like you and Charlie’ll be taking real good care of Wiscasset during this war we’ve gotten ourselves into,” said Pa, in a low voice.
I looked at him. “Not everyone’s leavin’, Pa. Charlie and I won’t be the only ones here.”
“Well, now, that’s true. But I want you to know, I believe you’re going to do a darn good job of it all. You’re close to a man now, and I trust you with everything I hold dear in my life.”
“Pa?”
“That’s why. . .” Pa looked over at Ma, and reached his hand out to grasp hers. “That’s why I’ve decided that tomorrow, I’m going to enlist.”
“Pa—no! We need you here! What if . . .”
I looked from Pa to Ma and back again. I couldn’t say the words.
“I’ll be home just as soon as Mr. Lincoln is sure we’ve got the job done. You know us Mainers, Joe; we’re reliable. When our country needs us, we go.”
I couldn’t say anything. Didn’t he think his family needed him, too? Was his country more important than Ma and me?
“You’ll be fine. You’ll be the man of the house when I’m gone. I trust you to take care of your ma. Watch out for her, and make sure she doesn’t work too hard at the store.”
Ma had tears in her eyes.
“Why, Catherine, you’ll both be so busy, you won’t even know I’m gone.”
“We’ll know you’re gone, Abiel. We’ll know,” said Ma.
How could he leave? Just when everything at home seemed so much better?
I banged my fork down on the table, ran upstairs, and slammed the door of my room. Hard. How could Pa desert us?
Even if I could pay Mr. Shuttersworth his money, there was no way I could run a printing business and help Ma with the store, too.
It wasn’t fair. I hated this war, and I hated what Pa was doing.