Chapter 14: Red in the Morning…
July 15th, 1863
The fog slowly dissipated from around him, yet the blinding light remained, scarring his vision as he attempted to orient himself with his surroundings. This pain remained fully lodged in his temples disabling his sight, yet heightening his sense of sound as the soft coo of a women's voice fell from somewhere above him, encouraging him to awaken. "…That's it…stay with me…you'll be fine…just fine…"
Still unable to see the woman's face, he rotated his head, searching for the voice's owner. "Who…?"
"I'm Carmen Brachet…don't worry, you're safe…you're gonna be fine…" The mellow tone called to him.
Finding that his eyes were temporarily useless, he closed them again and himself to voice his inquiry. "…No…please…who….who…" But the question was never uttered, as a swift current of dizziness flowed through him, and he was forced to fall back into the haunting darkness that beckoned him so…
July 1st, 1863: Pennsylvanian Field
An eerie silence mixed with the blanket of dew that covered the pasture of the Pennsylvanian landscape. No creature stirred, no bird sang, no cricket chimed. It was as if all of nature knew that something was coming, that they were on the cusp of a new horizon, a new day; and that nothing would be the same when the sun fell again into the west.
A warm breeze strewed through the tall grass, weaving in and out of each strand, leaving no leaf unturned or blade untouched. The transparent force willed its way through the valley until it scoped across a large hill, which it could not climb. Atop the hill stood one hundred men; sitting, waiting as they had all night. Among those men sat Sully, positioned with his back to the mud wall crouching in the soil and grass. His eyes skimmed along the paper in his hands over and over again, as they had since he's received the telegram two weeks ago.
Dear Sully, tragic events have occurred. Michaela refuses to contact you, but it is necessary that you know that…
That's all there was…the neatly typed text simply ceased. The only explanation was a brief message written below in the telegraph officer's scrawl.
Connection broken. Storm in Denver knocked down telegraph lines. We apologize for this inconvenience.
"Inconvenience…" The usage of such a word within the context was sickening to Sully. It was an 'inconvenience' that he remained thousands of miles away from his wife…it was an inconvenience that he had no idea what had happened to her, in fact all he could be sure of was that something had indeed happened to her and that it was so awful, she could not even find it in herself to tell him, her husband…And it was only an inconvenience that the telegraph detailing Sully of these events was sent just as lightning struck.
"Men, be on guard…!" Chamberlain's voice broke Sully's train of thought. Folding the telegram in half, Sully stuffed it into his coat pocket, trying to calm his racing heart and mind. But the action was futile. His brain was simply unable to focus on anything by the pained face of his wife which continued to erupt in his mind. His nervousness must have been apparent in his features because Sully suddenly sensed his superior officer's eyes on him. Turning to look at Chamberlain's eyes, the commander simply nodded his head to beckon Sully over to him.
Reluctantly, Sully propped his rifle against the protective wall and returned to the officer's post. "Yes sir…?"
"I reviewed your case with my other officers…" Chamberlain quickly and in hushed tones as he stared at the distant horizon, avoiding Sully's persistent eyes. "…it took a lot of string pulling, but I'll be able to release you from your duties in about three week's time…maybe even sooner…"
Sully stared, dumbfounded, at his supreme officer, unable to comprehend what he was being told. "…I…sir…thank-"
"No need to thank me lieutenant…you saved my life that night you found me lost in the middle of that god-forsaken Appalachian forest…if frost bite and hypothermia hadn't gotten me, the wolves would have…"
Sully shook his head, remembering that winter night four years ago, when he'd first met Chamberlain. "Anyone would've…"
But Chamberlain raised his hand, cutting Sully off and looking at the young man for the first time. "…Let's call it even…you may return to your post…"
"Yes sir…" Sully gave a slight salute and began to walk back to his position, yet then paused and turned back. "Is it true what they say, sir? Will this battle make or break the war for the Union?"
Chamberlain's eyes had returned upwards, towards the sky and for a few moments Sully wondered if he had even heard him. "You know what they say Lieutenant Sully, about 'red at night, sailor's delight…" Sully nodded and waited for him to continue, unsure of Chamberlain's ultimate meaning. "…to be quite honest Soldier, I'm not even sure if Lee is really heading this way…"
Without another word, Chamberlain turned from Sully, never dropping his gaze from the blood-red sky as dawn breeched the Pennsylvanian mountains.
--- --- ---
Colorado Springs: July 4th, 1863
The faint smell of settled dust filled her nostrils as she walked down the creaking steps of the clinic. Despite the fact that she'd returned to work over three weeks ago, the area still felt foreign to Michaela. The instruments and structure of the room were exactly as she'd always kept them, yet things just seemed different; cloudy, dull, nothing like the feelings of renewal and self confidence that she normally felt when entering her haven. Her haven…that was it was, it was the one room in the entire world where she could do what she loved to do, where she could perform…but that room had disappeared; that world had vanished. For Michaela found that she could no longer look at that examination bed without knowing that she once lay there, and with that thought, came images of that dreadful night which were forever embellished into her mind. Images that slapped her face and gnawed at her heart.
As much as she tried to deny the fact, it was evident that nothing would be the same…
The suddenly painful sensation of having her hair pulled awakened Michaela from her daze. Detangling her copper locks from her daughter's fingers, Michaela repositioned Katie on her hip and lightly tickled the child's stomach. "No Katie…unless you want me to become bald before you're two, I suggest you stop pulling so hard on mama's hair…" The little girl squealed in laughter as her mother played with her. Smiling down at her beautiful daughter, Michaela marveled at the child's ability to make her almost forget about everything that had happened in less than a second. "…You truly are a miracle…now, mama has to do a little work work, and then we can go to the Fourth of July picnic to see Colleen and Brian…"
Striding across the room, Michaela carried the child to a small crib that Loren had given to her. Michaela knew it was his way of giving her his support, and she appreciated it more than any words of regret. Tucking Katie in, Michaela returned to her desk where her eyes immediately began to pour over the countless patient charts that sat in mountainous heaps.
While her fingers carried the pencil methodically across the paper, it only took a matter of minutes before Michaela found her mind wandering to thoughts of Sully. Michaela knew he needed to know…she knew she had to tell him. But the thought of putting it off one more day appeared so inviting, she could not pass up the opportunity. "I'm fooling only myself…" Michaela breathed staring past the blank file at nothing and everything. "…I'm living in a world that does not exist…pretending that it didn't happen won't change the fact that it did…"
Closing her eyes, Michaela massaged her temples with her finger tips, and peered earnestly out the window at the towns-people doing their last minute shopping for the day. Children laughed as they skipped merrily down the dirt road, women gossiped about petty worries amongst themselves, all was perfectly typical; yet despite the ordinariness of the scene, everything seemed so fairytale like, so blissful, to Michaela.
"What do I do Sully…what do I do?" Michaela breathed.
Looking down at her half-done work, Michaela shook her head and placed the pencil back down on the desk. "Well, it doesn't appear that I'll be getting any more done here…best go find Colleen and Brian…"
--- --- ---
July 2nd, 1865:
The apocalypse had arrived. Hell was here, it was now...its fire was shot from the cannon; its demons from the rifle. It ate up all living things. Yet above all, it rid the world of hope…
The dead lay strewn across the hillside. Thousands…uncountable, unimaginable...yet still the battle waged on in the valley.
Disaster.
It was sickening, it was inconceivable. It was death. Death lay all around Sully as he fired his rifle over and over again. Sweat mixing with the tears that rolled from his eyes, and with the dirt on his face, dripped onto the butt of the gun. "When will it stop? When…?" Sully whispered. But there came no reply except for the constant battering of the rams and the eternal raining of fired shots.
Fire and ash, cries, the burning, the turning, it was a mass of hysteria, and yet they kept fighting….and kept dying…
-- --
The sun warmed her pale skin and shone on auburn tresses as Michaela walked across the wooden bridge with Katie in her arms. Approaching the meadow, the sound of the children running through their final rehearsal became louder and louder, echoing softly across the paddock.
"When Johnny comes marching home again hurrah, hurrah…" The children sang the battle hymn of the republic.
"Michaela! Michaela over here!" Dorothy called Michaela over to a blanket on the grass.
"We'll give him a hearty welcome then, hurrah, hurrah..."
Smiling slightly, more for her friend's sake than anything, Michaela made her way towards her friend. "Good day, Dorothy…"
"Oh come and sit, Michaela…I need to see this beautiful child…"
"Oh the men will cheer, and the boys will shout, the ladies they will all turn out…"
Somewhat hesitantly Michaela bent down to place her daughter into the woman's arms. Yet an eerie wind whistled past her, causing Michaela to stop and turn away. "Michaela? What's wrong?"
Michaela, however, didn't hear Dorothy, nor anything for that matter…She was much too preoccupied with the man running towards her.
"And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home…"
--- ---
Despite the intense cloud of heat that had sunk into the valley, Sully shivered involuntarily as he reloaded his gun. It was too much…the killing, the battering, the sickening taste that had settled in the air…all of it came bashing down on Sully to the point where he could hardly remember where he was or what he was actually doing. Finally controlling the shaking of his hands long enough to place a new bullet it the barrel, Sully rotated back to the battle field and raised his weapon.
Bang to the death
Bang to the light
Bang to all that was once believed, that was once stood up for
Bang to the end of being…
Sweat poured down Sully's face and his breath shook as he fired shot after shot…the world spun and fogged as if part of a dream. It's the end…Sully thought to himself. He could feel his spirit dying from within and his body giving out. "No…no not now…Michaela….I've gotta get…home…I…I promised…I gotta…"
A well aimed cannon defaced the mud fortress nearly twenty yards to the left of Sully, awakening what little was left of his comprehension.
"NOOOO!!!!!!" Came a scream that echoed over the deafening explosions and shots. Through the quickly settling dust, Sully saw a young man dart from behind the trench and stumble half way down the hill. "FRED!!!! NO!!!!" The lad screamed again.
Sully stared at the boy, who was not even of age yet, weep upon the body of his comrade.
"Crazy kid, he's gonna get us all blasted to smithereens if he don't get out of there…" Sully heard the man beside him sneer.
Nearly without thinking, Sully dropped his weapon and leaped over the protective wall to run to the boy's rescue. Staggering over the rough, devastated terrain, Sully suddenly realized the ridiculousness and stupidity of his sudden urge to be the hero. For now he stood upon a bare hill, a perfect target…
-- --
There was something wrong…
"The old church bell will pearl with joy hurrah, hurrah…"
…It was in his form, in the way he sprinted, his speed…
"To welcome home are darling boy hurrah, hurrah…"
…But mostly it was in his eyes, in those brown eyes that for once did not gleam…for once; they held darkness and hopeless comfort…
"The village lads and lassies say, with roses they will strew the way…"
"Horace…Horace what is it?" Michaela's voice shook violently despite her attempts to subdue it.
With heaving breaths Horace shook his head, unable to find any words that could possibly amount to what needed to be said…nothing would…
Instead Horace handed Michaela the destined slip of paper…
"And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home…"
--- ---
"You have to leave him!" Sully shouted over the cannon fire, dodging another bullet that pelted at him.
"NO! I WONT LEAVE HIM! HE'S A BROTHER TO ME!!!" The young man shouted as he tried to drag his companion's body up the hill.
"TAKE COVER!!!" A shout came from above, right before a cannon ball shattered the earth once again.
Squinting through the dust, Sully found the boy, still attempting to save his friend. "Here, go!"
"No! I'm not leav—"
"I'm not tellin' ya to, give him to me, I'll carry him…otherwise we're all gonna die…Now MOVE!" Sully shouted as a rainfall of bullets pelted at the hillside again. Finally giving in to Sully's requests, the lad shifted the weight of his mate onto Sully's back and started up the hill.
Carefully Sully trudged up the hillside, heaving slightly under the weight and heat of it all. Looking up, Sully rejoiced in the fact that he was almost there. "Just a few more…"
"Here hand him up…" A man's voice shouted down to Sully. A moment later two hands grabbed hold of the lifeless body on Sully's back and pulled it up.
Dehydrated, sore, and exhausted Sully climbed the last few steps towards safety. However just before reaching the peak of the soil trellis, Sully looked away, down the hill towards the enemy lines. It was a mistake known to all…
For fate was in the shot, fate was in the bullet, fate was in the position, the hesitation, the direct contact.
The last Sully saw was the whites of the soldier's eyes before he tumbled down the hillside.
Down, down, down, he fell…down into the eternal darkness…the everlasting slumber.
And there he stayed…
--
"Get ready for the jubilee, hurrah, hurrah…"
Dear Ms. Sully….
"We'll give the hero three times three, hurrah, hurrah!"
We regret to inform you that your husband has been shot and killed in battle on July 2nd, 1863 on the fields of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania….
"The laurel wreath is ready now, to place upon his loyal brow…"
Two firm hands grabbed the widow as she slumped, baby in arms, to the ground…
"And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home."
I'm so sorry this has taken so long to get out. Life has been incredibly crazy! and I simply have not had anytime to do much of anything but school and my practicing. But I wanted to wish everyone Happy Holidays by staying up all night with renny and getting this written and done for ya'll. Thank you for you constant support, and I always appreciate your reviews!
penny