An Ending and the Uncertainty of the Future

"Well, Sarg - well . . . . I guess I'm just still growing," Lou said haltingly as she felt a wave of panic. She thought, "My secret must not be found out!" She quickly stood up, grabbed her vest pulling it together and turned her back to Maddox. She walked away slowly, wanting to run but she restrained that impulse.

The sergeant went on to a new topic, "God, Almighty. It's sure hot. Been in this infernal clime all my life but damn if the down south summers don't sap me." With that complaint he moved out of the sun into the shade of a big, bell-shaped chestnut tree.

"Yes Sergeant," she said over her shoulder as she buttoned up her vest and moved away from the stirring sergeant. She needed desperately to be away from the sergeant and everybody else. Her panic and dread bounced inside her soul like a rubber ball Alex played with for months when they were five. "Sergeant, think I'll find a creek and wash up a bit," Lou told the fat, smelly man who was settling in. The robust short man pulled his hat down over his face, his arm folded above his big belly. She walked away as he mumbled something she didn't hear.

Lou had traded some wormy fat back with one of the general's escorts a few days before for some soap. She needed to take the waters, cleansing her spirit, for her action yesterday. She saw this as the opportunity she needed. Scared of exposure, her thoughts went to sorting out what she must do - wash her clothes and scrub herself, take the waters and offer a prayer. The lye soap was wrapped in a cotton rag. She took it from her haversack and unwrapped it. She sniffed it. The smell invoked the presence of her grandmother Mama Bear's iron wash pot over a hickory fire just down from her back porch. Mama always boiled bedclothes early Monday morning, cold or hot weather.