The New Kid
Hannibal Heyes eyed the newcomer with interest. The boy looked too young to have been sent to the area that housed the older boys. Hannibal had only been moved there recently and he was nearly fourteen. He knew they'd allowed him to stay longer than usual because the schoolmaster enjoyed his contributions to classroom discussion and because he helped with the instruction of the younger children. The youngest residents of Valparaiso Home for Waywards were given instruction in reading, writing and arithmetic while the older boys were expected to work to earn their keep.
Many of the younger children had been sent there because their fathers were fighting in the war and their mothers couldn't afford to feed them. By the time boys reached Hannibal's age, most of them either returned to relatives to help work their farms or were apprenticed to a trade. With so many men off fighting, boys of fourteen or fifteen were taking the men's jobs. Hannibal however, had nowhere to go. His folks had been killed early in the conflict and he had no relatives in Kansas that he knew of.
"Hey," Hannibal called, walking toward the young boy. "What's your name kid?"
The small blonde boy looked at Hannibal "I ain't a kid," the boy shot back quickly. "I'm twelve."
Hannibal raised an eyebrow and the new boy looked down at the dirt, kicking up some dust with one foot. "Almost," he replied softly.
"I bet you could pass for ten if you tried," Hannibal observed, looking the boy over. "You could go to school and do light chores instead of working all day."
"I never had much use for book learnin'," the boy replied defiantly.
"Oh? Well it's better than hoeing weeds all day isn't it?"
"My folks were farmers," the boy said sharply.
"Yeah? Mine too, but I don't intend to push a plow all my life. I've got bigger plans."
The Boys were suddenly distracted by shouting from a group of boys across the yard.
"My pa's killin' rebs like you!"
"My pa's killin' blue bellies and he probably killed yours!"
There was a cloud of dust as the boys hit the dirt and rolled, locked in battle. The other boys gathered round and began cheering.
Hannibal and the young blonde boy stayed where they were and watched silently.
"Hey, what side are your folks on?" the blue eyed, blonde boy asked hesitantly.
"The dead side," Hannibal replied without expression.
The younger boy stared at him in confusion.
"Does it matter?" Hannibal asked.
"No, I guess not," the younger boy replied. "I'm Jed, Jed Curry."
"Hannibal Heyes," the older boy told him, extending his hand.
"You'd best get on over to the school house. Tell 'em you're ten."
"Naw, if it's all the same to you, I'll stay here."
Hannibal considered this, and then nodded. "Ok, kid, stick with me," he said and started walking toward the building where the boys slept.
Jed grinned and followed his new friend.