Just James and I

From the time I turned six, James has always been in my life. Our families lived side by side since before I could remember. The creek would rush past our cots as we camped out on summer nights with the crickets in the reeks. In the schoolyard, we played tag and dodge ball, and he didn’t care that the other children teased him for playing with a girl six years his junior. In short, we were best friends.
My brothers seemed to manage without my constant supervision, even though Daddy said they needed a woman to keep them in check. Dorothy also turned out to be a little lady without a mother. I only had to watch them because Momma died after Dorothy was born. A rabid dog that was wondering the farms at the time bit Momma. The doctor didn’t have anything to treat her and the bite became infected before she left us.
When I was eight and James was fourteen, Daddy bought a new plow horse. It was my job to break him and use him for the cows. James spent the entire time from spring to fall helping me train him. We named him Cherokee. He was a hafflinger, big for his breed too, and by the time winter came, he could carry a calf all the way to the barn on his back without raising a fuss. Once, Daddy had me and James take in a herd of our meat cattle to town for we were selling them to another farm. There were over a hundred cattle, and not one of them got away even though it was only Cherokee and me with James on foot to keep them together. Of course, we also had Ardie, James’s borer collie. The farmer was impressed, and he paid us more than we expected. Walking home, I noticed the new streetlights.
“James, look, they have streetlamps on this road now.”
“Alice, didn’t you hear? They just put them in about a week ago. Only on Broad Street though.”
“I wish they’d do the other roads going out to the farms. It’d be easier to walk home, and our Daddies might let us go to town more often.”
“I prefer starlight myself, and the creek to town.” James replied and he took Cherokee’s reins so that I could help him up. He climbed on behind me and we raced Ardie home.
The first job I had was at the Union Hotel as a maid. James was thrilled; he always said I should have a job by the time I turned thirteen, and he got his wish.
I only worked at the hotel for about a year when the Civil War started. James was never a fighter, more of a peacemaker, so I never worried that he would go off to war.
After my second year at the hotel, I awoke on a summer night with a gentle tapping on my window. Groggily, I crawled out of bed and looked out my window to identify my visitor. It was James. He motioned for me to come out. I quickly unlatched both the glass and the screen before I was standing before him, my bare feet in the grass and the warm summer breeze in my face.
“Alice, I have something to tell you.” He said when I greeted him with a Daddy’s-Gonna-Skin-Me-Alive, Why’d-You-Wake-Me-Up, but then I noticed his tone of voice.
His voice sounded grave, and all of my enthusiasm and false anger vanished within seconds. I looked at James with concern. His eyes avoided mine, as he was looking at the ground. He held my hand and took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry Alice, but I… I… I enlisted in the army. I had to. I can’t just sit around and let the North lose. It doesn’t seem fair to President Lincoln; he’s worked too hard for it to all fall apart. I’m so sorry…” His voice trailed off quietly.
Suddenly, I couldn’t see him anymore. I blinked away the tears that clouded my vision. I stood there, speechless, as I tried in vain to get a hold on myself. When I could finally speak, my voice sounded dead, a monotone. “When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. I’m so sorry Alice…” He desperately tried to apologize as much as he could until I stopped him.
“It’s okay, if girls could go, I’d be leaving with you.” I wrapped my arms around him in a hug to hide my face in his chest. I couldn’t put on my brave face with the little control I maintained at the moment.
The next morning dawned bright, clear, and crisp. I awoke to find myself still outside my window with James at my side. He slept soundly as I climbed back through my window to change. When I came back out, he gave me an unexpected hug before disappearing in the woods bordering his family’s farm.
At lunch I told Daddy I was going to town with James to say goodbye to him and the other men going to war. My family told me to give him their good lucks, farewells and come home soons and sent me on my way. We didn’t ride Cherokee; I wanted to make the time longer. Not to mention I was in a neatly pressed dress.
James said he would write every week and he’d be coming home so soon that I wouldn’t have time to miss him. I knew that it was a lie. Not that he wouldn’t try to come home soon, but that I wouldn’t miss him. And the townspeople all said the war wouldn’t last; another lie. I knew it would drag on. I knew this as I stood on Broad Street with the new lamps that were turned off beside the other mothers and sisters and friends and wives and fiancés of the soldiers of our little town. I knew this as I waved, cried, and said goodbye to my best friend in the entire world. I tried not to cry any more than the other women beside me did, but it was an impossible task. Because James would not come home.