Ford At Valverde

Another year had passed until the cold of winter had become a memorable occasion for the Christmas Eve of 1865. The war had ended and most of the wounded had returned home to their families. For many it was bittersweet with the loss of a loved one, but for Osprey and his family, the celebration came from being thankful for the Christ-child and the blessing of open hearts that had gathered there.

  Among the cluttered living room of gifts and wrappings, was the Christmas tree with homemade ornaments of ginger spice, popcorn rings, cinnamon sticks, and lace trimmings. Judith and her children were among them, as well as the O’Neal family, Lila and their two sons and daughter. All had grown so much over the brief years that there were now young teens and adults, among the adolescences. They were singing Christmas carols and exchanging gifts when Ospreys daughter, Sara, opened a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. Inside was a hand-made rag doll, and at once she went to hug her Aunt Judith.

  “I just love her,” she said. “I’ll name her Judy because you made her!”

  Judith blushed at the sentiment, and welcomed her nieces hug, as her own daughter compared her orange-haired doll in a like-wise manner. Then Judith waved a hand at her oldest boy, Charles, who was trying to squeeze a tune from a bagpipe that only groaned a winded squeal.

  “Pipe it down some, there’ll be time to practice later!” she said.

  Osprey laughed, as he urged the awkward lad to play on. “After all, making a joyful noise can be as sweet to Gods’ ears as the most delicate of song birds.”

  “Carry on then,” she rolled her eyes in his direction, and then handed a plump wrapped gift to Osprey.

  Osprey pretended that it had weighted down his arms, as he opened the brown wrap and saw the bits of red candied fruit that ribbed the dark crust in a circular design.

  “Well I declare!” he comprised a smile that was half-way a tease. “What would Christmas be without another scrumptious fruitcake!”

  Lila joined in, but modestly, and Judith took it as an insult.

  “I would have you two to know that it took several weeks to put that together. It’s a vintage process, passed down through the ages. But if you’d prefer not to get another one next year, I can certainly see to that!”

  Osprey’s lighthearted disposition never changed as he got up and gave her a frisky hug against her will, with a warm peck on the cheek.

  “Why, I’ll bet it outdoes ‘em all. We’ll just be sure to eat it first!” he laughed.

  Lila waved him off and instructed Judith to hit him if she needed to, while she placed it on the kitchen table with the pile of others, which numbered about twenty in all.

  Then there was a steady knock at the door.

  Osprey, who was rough-housing with one of the boys and enjoying the Christmas cheer, started to get up.

  “Another well-wisher at this hour? Guess you just never know when caroler’s call,” he said.

  Lila headed for the door instead. “I’ll see who it is,” she replied. “We’ll be needing another log on the fire.”

  The cool front swept through the house and blew out a lantern on the wall as Lila opened the door. Snow was swirling about the figure that stood before her, garbed in a coat made from bear skins with a frumpy furry hat to match. He had long wiry hair with an overgrown mustache and beard, and carried a scent that caused the dogs to bark, even though they were fenced in with the goats. Lila was clearly taken off-guard and somewhat startled as she looked away hesitantly.

  “Can I help you?” she asked loudly so that Osprey could hear her concern.

  The man stepped forward as Osprey re-ignited the lantern, casting some light onto his face. It was Daniel. He extended his arms towards Lila.

  “Now, is that any way to welcome a member of the family? I told you I’d be back,” he said.

  Lila turned to Osprey in her astonishment. Osprey walked to the door as though in disbelief at the sight before him. Then he grabbed his brother around the neck and gave him a steadfast embrace, before pulling him inside, as Lila closed the door behind them.

  Judith’s mouth was wide open and the girls ran to hide. Even the boys shied away from him at first, and the young adults were more curious as they all got reacquainted with the changed faces. When Daniel took his hat off and coat, he was wearing a tattered Federal uniform that reeked of wild game and sweat. Judith got up and retreated to the back of the house and Lila headed to the kitchen, where she returned with a thick slice of fruitcake on a plate and a glass of milk. She handed it to Daniel.

  “There’s plenty more where that came from,” she smiled.

  She noticed his hands. His fingernails were long and caked with dirt. He took the piece of cake and shoved it into his mouth whole, as though half-starved, and then chased it down with the milk. The boys watched in amazement.

  Osprey’s eyes welled up with tears as he took a wooden stool and moved in close to his brother. He tossed his hands up and then rested a finger on his mouth before questioning him, practically at a loss for words.

  “So, what have you been doing with yourself all of this time?” questioned Osprey, somewhat hardened from the years and lack of correspondence.

  Though curious to listen, Lila walked back into the kitchen to ease some discomfort. The boys, however, crouched around Osprey and strained forward to hear. But Daniel, studying their faces, stroked at his beard for a moment and sat back in the chair. Then he began to speak, but not as the Daniel they once endeared, but as a stranger struggling to retain his sanity while remaining civil.

  “Well, at first I went to Mississippi. Yep, I managed to dodge Vicksburg. Then there was Belle and Emmett. Never met a finer boy since..,” he watched the expressions of his nephews turn to disappointment. “Then there was the war.., it sort of got in the way of all my plans”

  Lila returned with a plate of ham and vegetables. She placed it on his lap and he looked up to her.

  “Mighty obliged,” he said, as he stared down at the food and then back to Osprey and the boys.

  “Say, you all wouldn’t mind if I helped myself. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen food this good,” he pointed towards it.

  Osprey got up and moved the stool away, motioning for the boys to give him some privacy while he figured out what to do next.

  “No. Not at all,” he responded. “Go right ahead and enjoy it. We’ve got from now on to hear all about your journeys. No need trying to fit it all in at once.”

  Daniel began eating the food, still ravenous, when Judith re-entered the room, but with a handkerchief in her hand. She dabbed her eyes and then rested her hand on his shoulder.

  “For goodness sake, I hardly recognized you, but I’m glad you’re back,” she smiled.

  Daniel only nodded, still unaware that Lloyd was not among them, when he glanced over to Osprey, who still had tears in his eyes.

  “Where is Lloyd?” he asked, as though he was finally beginning to understand the gravity of the question that tugged at everyone in the room.

  There was silence. Then Osprey, perplexed about the timing of such, answered with a calm voice.

  “He went to serve our country two years ago, and he didn’t come back,” Osprey smiled with a heavy weight upon his chest.

  Daniel suddenly felt like something was about to burst inside of him, and he tried to keep his voice steady, but the anger was evident. “Now why in Sam Hill would he go and do that?”

  Osprey turned to Lila, who at once led everyone else into the kitchen, only Judith once again, retreated to the comfort of a back room.

  He stood up, as though to challenge his brother for a response. Osprey tried to reassure him that it was something he had wanted to do. Then he told him about Lloyd’s duty at Gettysburg, and the letters he had sent home before he had died. It had happened through a simple exchange of gunfire across a picket line, where many had suffered the cause.

  “I was going to go myself, but when the news came back it was just too
hard on the women. So I remained to help comfort the widows, and also to hold memorials for the dead,” he said in a grueling way that showed he was partly disgusted with himself for as much.

  “I’ve wondered since if my being there could have made a difference, of if I would have ended up taking as many lives as I would’ve attempted to save,” he added, though still unclear about what it all was doing to Daniel’s thinking, as he didn’t seem to digest the information in any predictable way.

  “I could use a drink. That’s it,” Daniel responded as he went to grab his coat, and pulled his hat down over his head. ‘There’s nothing like a stiff drink to warm me up inside.”

  “It’s Christmas Eve,” Osprey tried to appeal to him, “and besides that, getting corned won’t make you feel better about it in the morning. Why don’t you stay and rest for a while, until you can see things different at least.”

  But Daniel suddenly felt like the space was too confined, so he opened the front door and tromped down the porch steps and into the snow without further explanation, ignoring his brother’s pleas and heading nowhere.

  The slanted roof of the small tavern was weighted down with snow, but the glow from the inside made it appear warm and inviting. Daniel walked up to a hitching post where four other horses were drinking from the icy water in the trough before them, and they stirred at the sight of him. Then he swung open the wooden planked door of the tavern and walked inside.

  Two men were drinking at the bar as the bartender was leaning over the counter in conversation. There was nothing fancy about the inside, just a solid piece of walnut for the counter and some chipped bar stools for the handful of locals that were spread out. There was a rustic black piano with yellowed keys and dusty sheet music resting on its ledge, where no one had played it in a while. And at a nearby table, two burly lumberjacks were playing a game of cards. When they saw Daniel, the talking stopped and they saw him as an intrusion.

  He ignored them and took a seat at the bar, shuffling the stool around and trying to get comfortable in the heavy coat when the bartender, with matted brown hair and an apron, approached him.

  “Can we help you with something?” he eased in with a deep voice that said he didn’t want any trouble.

  Daniel pulled a roll of money from his pocket, slid a few of the dollars loose and placed them on the counter. “Yes you can,” he replied. “I’ll have a shot of whiskey, and a couple of bottles. Just keep ‘em coming.”

  The old man looked at him with speculation, but poured the drink and placed it before him, as he swiped the money from the counter.

  Daniel gulped it down at once and breathed, “Make it a double this time,” as he looked around at the disgruntled faces.

  The bartender placed a half-emptied bottle of whiskey next to his glass. So Daniel pushed the glass away and helped himself to it.

  The two lumberjacks observed him from their table as they continued on with their game. One of the men at the bar, an older fellow with a gray beard, slim face and a woolen hat, nudged the one beside him as he opened his mouth with blunt speech.

  “Where did you come from?” he asked.

  Daniel took another swig and wiped his mouth on his fur covered arm and then smiled. “Now boys, is that any way to greet a stranger? After all, we haven’t been properly introduced.”

  The old man turned to the other, with the full attention of the lumberjacks.

  “Did you get a load of this? He thinks we’re strangers, but I do believe I’ve seen him before. Sure wasn’t down south though, because I don’t recall seeing any grizzlies around Chickamauga,” he laughed out of earnest.

  The other man laughed as well, but the bartender gave a look as though he didn’t appreciate the probing.

  Then one of the lumberjacks put a word in.

  “Give him a rest. It’s obvious he came a long way to get here. Let the man enjoy his shine!” he voiced loudly.

  Daniel turned in his direction and raised his bottle to him. “Here.. here,” he replied. “No harm done. I can speak for myself.”

  Then he turned to the old fellow with the loud mouth and said, “It don’t really matter where I came from. Because I always end up in the same shitty place, staring down the plug-ugly likes of you.”

  The man stood up and beat his fist on the bar, one of his legs were missing and he almost fell over, until he picked up his cane and pointed it at Daniel.

  “You listen to me! I didn’t fight the war twice over to take this from some scalawag sonofabitch like you!” he yelled at the intrusion.

  Daniel stood up and took his coat off, getting ready to fight the man and yet revealing the tattered blue uniform underneath.

  “Neither did I!” He yelled as he pounded his chest with both fist, and his emotions were building to vent his anger.

  The two lumberjacks, both middle-aged and wooly, and yet sympathetic to them both, got up from the table and approached him.

  “Let’s just put an end to it while we’re still ahead and call it a night. How about it?” one of them said, and then added. “Do you need some help to the door?”

  Daniel was fidgeting and making spastic motions with his head as he looked around at the men, who could tell that he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

  The bartender got two full bottles of whiskey from beneath the counter and sat them down with force.

  “That ought to fix his flint,” he glared in a dominating manner as he eyed the old man, and then back at Daniel.

  “Just take ‘em and go,” he added, short of any pleasantry.

  “They’re on me,” and he placed the dollar bills beside them.

  Daniel looked around for a moment longer as he considered his options. Then he grabbed the two bottles, along with his coat and headed for the door. When the lumberjack closed the door behind him, he could hear the wooden bolt jam as it slid across the frame. They had locked him out.

  After standing there for a time with the bottles, he turned to the horses that were already nervous and trying to back up, but limited by the reins. So he sat the bottles down on the ground and heaved his coat forward at them and laughed. The more upset the horses got, the more he began waving it about in random as they reared up, kicking and neighing until they broke free from their restraints. Segments of the hitching post rail was dragged away behind them, as he howled about hysterically at the sight.

  At once, the tavern door was pulled open in the noisey commotion and the men came out. Just as soon as one of the lumberjacks was able to grab Daniel by the arms, the old man warbled about on one foot as he started flogging him with his cane. Daniel tried to fight back, but was beaten brutish by the outraged men and was left bleeding and unconscious in the snow.

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