Unbound Issue 4 | Page 8

FICTION Sneed, who seemed to sleep. Cold reached over to him and touched a bony shoulder. “Grove?” he rasped, delicately shaking the man. “Sneed. Sneed?” Cold had lost most sensation, but he could feel the rigidity of Sneed’s body as it shifted under his prodding. Sneed had died. Cold withdrew his hand, rubbing it in the dirt. He swore, then broke into a dry sob. His body had no water to give to its grief. After he summoned up the remainder of his courage, he quelled his sorrow. It was a costly emotion; one he couldn’t afford to excise. Closing his eyes, he concentrated as much as possible. His eyelids snapped back open to a memory from five years ago. Emily Sharply Corrigan stood at the end of a makeshift aisle in her mother and father’s parlor, covered in a lace and silk white dress, her porcelain skin showing only from her uncovered hands. Her veiled face exuded the brilliance of passion and love. Beaded tears collected on Francis’s eyes as he watched her walk toward him. They had loved each other since she was sixteen, he seventeen. They had waited four good years for this moment. She walked toward him, the white of her dress frayed in his joyously bleary eyes. Now that he was back from college, he would soon take over for his father at the bank and work enough to save up for a homestead out west where you could see the Rockies pierce the sky. A Cold boy would always have a place to work, the bank’s owner, Mr. Blanks, had always said. Em was the most beautiful creature he could imagine. His heart flew as she neared him, her pace in steady step with the organist. He could feel neither the ground nor himself. He was lost in her. She smiled, and his knees felt as though they would succumb to his euphoria. He recalled the moment he knew he was in love with her: in highly unladylike fashion, she 7 | FICTION accompanied him down to the pond just off the stead, where they rooted around in the mud for catfish. She laughed as he fell backwards into the silty water, sputtering when he burst back above the surface in surprise. As she giggled, he lunged over and pulled her down with him. Their eyes met as she rubbed the water from her face and playfully splashed him. Exactly then, he knew. She arrived next to him. He stood there, ready to be joined to this woman, a marvel of all the brilliance of life. His head swam, and he blinked again; the present rushed back like water filling a chasm, drowning the serenity of his reminiscence. His eyes were heavy, and twilight had passed, so he indulged them. He slid back into lucidity amidst shouts and indistinguishable beckoning. He could make out the distinct knell of sharp, nasal, northern accents. These voices sounded robust, well-fed. They grew closer, and Cold scratched out the strongest shout he could find. “Here!” Muffled, from outside his tent, a voice plodded in: “I think there’s another live fella over here, boys!” A scruffy head capped in navy blue peeked through, dark eyes set in a crowd of rawhide skin and rangy red beard. “Oh God,” he murmured. Withdrawing, he shouted incomprehensibly, then shoved into the ratty canvas. He pushed aside Sneed’s corpse, and his eyes met Cold’s. He nodded, and looked away, his expression pale with shock. Clasping under Cold’s arms, he lifted the frail man and dragged him from the tent. Another soldier, a strapping youth, grabbed Cold by the ankles. They carried him to a stretcher near Sumter’s Gate, laid him on it, and beckoned the surgeon. “Dear God, Doc, so many of ‘em are like this,” said the bearded Yank. “I’ve seen,” said the doctor. “The only thing they didn’t do is kill them.” The doctor squinted at Cold through oval spectacles, feeling his body at specific points, listening through a stethoscope pressed against Francis’s bony chest. After another moment of inspection, he spoke to Francis. “We’ll get you out of this place, son.” “Thank you, sir,” whispered Francis. The other soldiers picked up the stretcher and jogged to a wagon outside the wire fences. On it were equally skeletal men, some shivering, some straining to sit upright, others slumped over ambiguously. Francis leaned back against the splintered wood of the wagon’s bed. He forced himself to breathe as deeply as he could. The air tasted sweet. The smell of Em’s perfume wafted around him. He could feel her breath on his cheek, whispering sweetly, the soft brush of her lips. Another sigh rendered a cough of spittle and blood. He was out. The consumption didn’t matter; the barbed wire didn’t matter; the beatings didn’t matter. None of it did, not anymore. He’d been rescued. That hell had lost its power over him. The air was free here. As a weak smile broke across his face, he felt a cool prickling sensation radiating up his arms and legs. He knew what was happening, but all he could do was smile. Nothing could stanch the joy of release. The last breath of Francis Perriman Cold escaped his mortal remains as a man unshackled. His last words were of hope: “Dear Lord, it’s good to be free.” 8