time.
Hoping to see the Monitor , we peered at the river from a high point near one of the Heavy Artillery batteries that pointed downstream and toward the Virginia side. Harper’s Weekly had run pictures of the new iron gunboat, wonder of the Navy, and we itched to catch sight of it. No such luck. It probably cruised down by Richmond, making sure that the Confederates’ ironclad couldn’t do any mischief against McClellan’s army. Seemed like he needed all the help he could get. The papers said his siege had turned into a retreat, thanks to the new Rebel general, that Lee. Big battles brewed that could decide the war.
We gave up looking for the wonder weapon and sprinted along the shore. Funny how the heat is intolerable when there’s work to be done, but you can play in the same sun forever and never feel it. Pretending we were the giant guns of the battery, Eddie gave me orders like he’d heard their officers doing. I’d go through the loading drill for a 100-pound Parrot rifle, then cock my arm. When he’d shout, “Fire!” my rock would blast out to sink the enemy. Many a driftwood gunboat suffered our righteous wrath. Once I misfired and the shot landed amidst a bunch of bathing soldiers. They seemed to think that Southern sharpshooters had found their range, for they dove under the water like frantic ducks. Laughing at the sight of so many naked fish-belly-white bums, we tore off back through town.
Our laughter faded quick when we saw that we’d made a dumb decision. To save time after being held up by a slow-marching regiment, we turned off our normal route. Trying to cut across the grounds of St. Bartholomew’s, a posh school for Senators’ sons and the like, we hoped we wouldn’t be spotted. Our previous dealings with those kids had taught us not to truck with them. “Mean” must’ve been a required class there. Once they’d stripped Eddie’s trousers and sent him home with a whipped bottom. What is it about money and power that makes some people so cruel?
We figured we were pretty safe, it being summer and no school, so we didn’t take it as careful as we should have. Three-quarters of the way through we started to relax. No one had jumped us or even yelled, “Boo!” The big sandstone building that the boys lived and studied in sat there like a forgotten mausoleum, all shadowy and dead. Weaving between the spooky old oaks on the lawn, Eddie and me started giggling from released nerves.
The first one dropped out of a tree behind us like a well-dressed monkey. His three friends popped up from behind a woodpile and a trash heap, cutting us off in all directions and closing in. Two carried sticks. Another had a length of chain. Eddie already started to shake beside me. As the noose constricted I recognized their leader, the one who’d been up in the tree. Time to apply some butter.
“H’lo, Horace,” I said with as big and goofy a grin as I could manage. Our best chance would be to act stupid and harmless, maybe disarm them enough to make them drop their guard and then we could run for it. “How ya doin’? Nice suit.”
Horace returned my smile with one of his own. Since it looked like a hyena licking its chops, it didn’t reassure me much. “Verity…Eddie.” He looked down at his blue velvet jacket. “This old thing? Just the rags I like to wear on days like this so I don’t get the blood of interlopers on my really nice clothes.”
Interlopers? Somebody’s been payin’ attention in Britannic class. “We’re just tryin’ to get home fer supper. No need to make a fuss.”
His greased dark hair looked like a shiny skullcap. He lacked a front tooth, but otherwise looked the rich kid, a banker’s boy from New York. “Fuss? No fuss needed to teach you two your place. And because it’s so hot, I think Eddie might appreciate being stripped buck naked this time.”
The trio lurking between us and home snickered along with him. Wilbur and Woodrow, the pair with sticks who