Wednesday, April 17, morning
Perhaps God wanted to remind us mud season hadn’t ended yet.
Heavy rain drilling on the low roof over my head woke me in the dark morning. I pulled Ma’s soft quilt over my head. Why should I get up in the cold and dank and work long hours? With Pa enlisting, I’d never be able to keep the Herald going, even if I did manage to pay back Mr. Shuttersworth.
I buried my head further under the covers.
But rain meant little to Trusty. “No, Trusty—not today!” Seeing me move, he’d jumped up on the bed and pulled the quilt down, hoping for a game.
I dragged myself out of bed and pulled on my trousers and a warm shirt and jacket. It might be halfway through April, but warm weather had not yet reached the coast of Maine.
Ma had already set the kettle on to boil. One benefit of having a store in the family was always having both coffee and tea at hand. She handed me a mug of steaming coffee. It smelled bracing, but was too hot to drink. I sat down at the table.
“Where’s Pa?”
“He’s already gone to talk with young Mr. Smith about the enlistment,” said Ma, pouring hot tea from the teapot into a cup for herself. “He wanted to be one of the first to sign up.”
“He’s really going to do it, then. Enlist.”
“He is.” Ma stirred her cup of tea hard and fast, as though she were mixing biscuits. “He won’t be deterred. Your pa’s a stubborn man.” Her lips were taut. “And a patriot.”
I put the coffee down. My stomach was beginning to knot, but I couldn’t complain to Ma. She’d bear most of the burden in Pa’s absence. “We’ll be fine, Ma. I’ll take good care of you.”
Ma smiled. “You will . . . and I of you. And we’ll write to your pa and keep in touch. President Lincoln said the war might only be a few months. Let’s hope he’s right.”
I nodded.
“There’s a small piece of pie left from dinner. I saved it for you.” Ma fetched the pie from the pantry. Pie was a common breakfast in Maine, and apple, one of my favorites. And, for all of my thoughts, I was hungry.
“I’ll be back before one o’clock,” I said.
“Thank you. We’ll see you then.” Ma looked at me, straight this time. “Don’t you be worrying, Joe. You and I’ll make it just fine. We will. Your pa has to do this, for our country. And for himself.”
“I understand that’s what he says; I just don’t know why it has to be him. Why it can’t be someone without a wife, or a son. Without responsibilities.”
Ma shook her head. “There’s few without such. In war, all must sacrifice. Our sacrifice is your father.” She turned, and I could see her tears starting. “Now, you go on. Go to the newspaper office, and print up the words for the other towns, so folks there will know what we in Wiscasset found out yesterday. They need to know, too. That’s your job. Be off with you.”
The last of the pie stuck in my throat, but I headed out, holding my jacket tight around me and trying not to step in the deepest puddles.
My first stop was the Bascombs’ house, to get Owen. I’d need all the help I could get today.
“Good morning, Joe,” Mr. Bascomb said, as he answered my knock. “I assume you’re looking for Owen this dreadful morning?”
“I could use his help over at the Herald office, sir. We’re setting type for the state’s Act to Raise Volunteers.”
Owen slid in front of his father. “I can be ready in a minute, Joe. I can go, can’t I, Father?”
“Get your jacket on first.” His father looked down. “And your shoes. And get some bread and meat from your mother. You haven’t had breakfast yet.”
Owen disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
“Owen does love being with you and Charlie. It’s good of you to find work that a boy his age can do without his making a nuisance of himself.”
“He’s no nuisance, Mr. Bascomb. Owen’s a big help. He’s learned a lot about setting type and printing. When I’ve got a big job, like today, I really need his help.”
“That’s good then; I’m glad. Sometimes I worry he’s in the way down there. He can be clumsy and awkward. Did you see the bloody nose he got running into a tree the other day?”
Owen must not have told his father about that gang of boys. I wouldn’t have told my pa either. Luckily I didn’t have to say anything because Owen appeared, shoes and jacket on, his brightly colored parrot on his head. “Can I bring Gilthead with me today?”
“Not today, Owen,” I said. “He’ll want to fly about, and you know he makes messes. We’re going to have papers all over the room. We have too much to do to clean up after him today.”
Owen looked down. “He wouldn’t be a bother. I’d clean up after him.”
“Joe said no, boy,” said his father. “Now go and put Gilthead back in his cage. That bird has too much freedom as it is.” He shook his head. “Ever since Owen’s uncle brought that parrot back from Cuba, the bird’s been nothing but trouble. The boy does love him, though.”
Mr. Bascomb turned back to me. “So, you’re printing up the Act to Raise Volunteers, eh? What do you think: Will Wiscasset be able to get one hundred men to volunteer?”
“I don’t know.” I hesitated. “But my pa’s going to sign up.”
“Then I’ll be seeing him at Edwin Smith’s home. I’m volunteering, too,” said Mr. Bascomb. “It’s a man’s duty to defend his country and keep it free for his children and grandchildren. I want Owen to grow up in a country where he can travel to any state and live and do business without fear. That’s why I’ll be fighting. I’m guessing your pa will be fighting for the same reasons. This country is called the United States for a reason. We need to stick together—not be torn apart.”
Owen was back, this time with a hunk of bread and some meat in his hand and no Gilthead. “I’m ready to go. I can eat this on the way.”
“Good luck, Mr. Bascomb,” I said. “We’ll be working until a little past twelve, and then takin’ a break. Owen will be able to come home for nooning. Then we’ll go back and work through the afternoon.”
Owen and I had the press ready to print the identification cards and the font trays lined up to begin setting the Act by the time Charlie burst through the door.
“News!” Charlie said, tossing his sodden jacket and hat on the floor, as usual. “Virginia has seceded!”
“Succeeded in doing what?” asked Owen, who was carefully inking the press under my supervision.
“Not succeeded, you goose! Seceded! They’ve decided they’re not staying with the Union—the Northern states. They’re going with the states in the South,” said Charlie. “It just came in on the wires. They’re the eighth state to leave the Union. And Virginia is right next to Washington, where President Lincoln lives.”
“How many states are on our side?” asked Owen.
I counted on my fingers. “Twenty-eight, I think.”
“Then we’ll win,” said Owen, confidently. “There are more of us. And”—he stood very tall—“my father is going to be a soldier. He’s going to enlist this morning.”
“I wish my father would enlist,” Charlie burst out. “He says he’s too old, and that I need him here. He keeps saying he’s the only family I’ve got. But I’m almost a man. I think it’s just an excuse. I don’t think he wants to go. Maybe he’s scared. I told him that, too.”
“Maybe he’s thinking of you, Charlie,” I said. “I wish my pa wouldn’t go.”
“Your pa?” said Charlie, turning to look at me. “Your pa’s enlisting, too?”
“He went this morning, like Owen’s father.”
“Your father’s older than mine! See? My father is just looking for an excuse! And I’m going to tell him so, next time I see him.” Charlie slammed his hand against the wall. “If only I were eighteen, I’d sign those papers in a minute. I wouldn’t even think twice about it.”
“We’re not getting anything done here,” I said. “Let’s get started. Charlie, you operate the press for the identification cards while I start setting the type for the Act. After you finish printing the cards, you can work on the Rules Governing Troops, for the second column. We’ll work until about twelve-thirty, then I’ll go home and mind the store so Ma and Pa can keep their appointment. While I’m doing that, both of you can get something to eat and check the telegraph again before we meet back here this afternoon.”
“Then I’ll write up a box about Virginia seceding,” said Charlie.
“Good idea,” I agreed. “We’ll put that on the front page of the Herald—maybe even at the top. It’ll show how important it is that people enlist as soon as possible. But let’s get the cards printed first.”
“You go ahead and work on that,” said Charlie. “I’m going to talk to my father again. I’m going to tell him both your fathers are enlisting. Maybe that will make him feel like he should enlist, too!”
He grabbed his jacket from the floor and raced out, not even stopping to shut the door.