The Gettysburg Zone Part 8

The kitchen was oppressively hot. Robin would've made a deal with the Devil for air conditioning. She was nearly twenty one. The year before...if she could call it that now....she had stormed out of her parents house and moved in with Mike Nichols. She took a job in the kitchen of the Gettysburg Hospital. She's gone through a scare or two over the past year with regards to pregnancy and children weren't an option for either of them. Mike had said he never wanted them but, like a typical man, he wouldn't even say the V word, much less go through with it. Like a typical woman, Robin was hoping he'd someday change his mind. So she didn't have her tubes tied. She'd opted for the I.U.D. and hoped that they could find the happily ever after that every couple longed for. Oh, yes, they were happy. But Robin had taken far too much for granted. And now they were all locked in the nineteenth century without any chance of reversing it. She couldn't safely remove the I.U.D. by herself, so she was screwed. She could never hope or pray for Mike to change his opinion about children because they were permanently out of the picture. She remembered that her mother always had a stern warning. Be careful what you wish for. She was happy for her friend...really. But Robin McNeal felt dead ended and it was nobody's fault but her own.
Karen Hampton could not bring herself to wring a chicken's neck or cut it's head off. She could clean a fish without a problem. They were already dead. But there was something inhumane about taking a life...even the life of a food animal. She saw the look in George's eyes everytime she went to the barn to milk the cow or gather eggs. He had killed someone for her. But he didn't get a medal. He got a copy of his ownership papers instead! She'd gone to the one person she trusted the most. She wanted George free. But all Angus could say was that he had to talk to a friend of a friend. She didn't remember all of her history or she would've known that was the password for the Underground Railroad! The man who had sheltered them and forged George's ownership papers was either a station master or he knew where to send the proper passenger. But she didn't give up on the notion of figuratively setting George free. If there was a chance as small a snowballs's chance in hell, she would find it.
George still got the shivers everytime he walked into the barn. He noticed that Karen did, too. No matter how many times he washed his hands, it still seemed like he could see blood. Wasn't that part of Shakespeare's MacBeth? A reappearing bloodstain on a murderer's hand? He'd never much cared for Shakespeare but now the words kept repeating over and over in his head, echoing until he felt sick. "Out, out damned spot!" He remembered how it had felt to push that pitchfork into Karen's attacker. At first there was a slight resisitance at first, but then the sharp tines had easily sliced their way through whatever organs were unlucky enough to be in the way. He saw the blood spurt out when he removed the pitchfork. He had been so damned angry, and not just because of what he was about to do. The man wore gray. He probably owned slaves, brokered the human flesh of his ancestors. And all George could feel was a blood red rage. He stopped what he was doing and thought he saw a red droplet on his hand and he went to wash his hands yet again.


Angus struggled with bringing a box down from the attic. Handing it down to Traci, he climbed down and closed the trap door. Traci laughed and shook her head. Her red curls bounced enthusiastically...in the negative. "Angus, it's a waste of time. I'm tellin' you, she is not gonna do it," she assured him.
He took the box from her and started off down the stairs. "And I say she will."
Traci had to practically had to run to keep up with the stocky Scotsman. He'd already reached the parlor. "I know Karen and she's not gonna do it."
Karen heard the commotion and went to the living room to check it out. Anything to get out of the blistering kitchen heat! Her hair was still neatly pinned up in the back but one stubborn lock kept falling into her eye. She pushed it out of her line of vision with the back of her hand. "What won't I do?" As soon as Angus heard her voice he ushered her to the divan and quickly sat her down. Before she could utter a word he'd placed a large box on her lap. Under layers of paper, there was a white dress. "No."
"Now, lassie, it's traditional..."
"For a virgin bride to wear white, I know. In case you haven't heard, I'm not a virgin," she said before realizing that she should've worded that differently.
Angus flashed her a sharp look. "Aye, lass, I've heard. We've all heard!"
Traci giggled and Karen shook her finger at her for silence. "It would be lying, and I won't do it. It's just us anyway, right?"
"And Miss Wade. And I'll not have ye lettin' the whole blessed county know that ye..."
She waved her hand for silence. "I'll make you a deal. I'll get married naked, but the preacher and guests will have to wear blindfolds."
"The lass is impossible!" he declared before he left the house yet again.
Traci's voice was soft. "That's Annabelle's dress."
Karen shook her head. 'Why does the old geezer care so damned much?"
"Maybe because you don't. Karen, your father doesn't notice you. This man puts you on a pedestal. He's the only father you've got now."
She weighed those words and got to her feet. "Fine. I'll wear the dress. Now I've gotta find him and apologize before he crawls into the scotch bottle again!"
Angus was on the back porch when she got there. He didn't look angry. He looked hurt. "Have ye decided to call off the wedding, too?" he asked without looking up.
She down next to him and put her arm around his shoulders. "No. I'll wear whatever you want me to wear...as long as it doesn't involve a corset. I'm sorry. I didn't realize it meant that much to you."
He looked at her with a smile that made his pale eyes sparkle like aquamarines. "Annabelle would've liked ye. She'd be proud to have ye wearin' her dress."
"But you have to do something for me, Angus. I know I'm a southerner and the enemy....but..." That damnable lump was back in her throat again.
"Anything, lass. Anything."
She knew he meant it. "You have to give me away." She felt her own tears come to match the ones she saw in Angus's eyes. "I mean it."
He clasped her smaller hand between his two furry ones. He was grinning from ear to ear. "I'll be the proudest man in Adams County. Thank ye, lass. Now...about Mr. Jefferson sharin' the bed with ye before the wedding...."
She retrieved her hand and folded her arms across her chest, frowning at him. "That is not open for discussion, Angus."
"Lass, it ain't right for ye to be..." He stopped at the sight of the barest of smiles gracing her lips. "Karen, please don't make me say the words. What ye be doin' is against the Bible."
She winced inwardly at the religious reference but refused to budge on the issue. "It's not a negotiable thing and that's my final word. You said it yourself. I enjoy Paul's touch...and I will continue to do so." She got to her feet to go in but stopped at the back door. "And no haggis at the wedding dinner"
His head shot up and he looked at her quizically. "And you'd be knowin' what that is?"
She winked at him and aped his accent. "Aye, me florid friend, that's why I don't want it!" She left him shaking his head in amazement.





Marjorie drove to Wright Avenue almost daily. Richard assumed that she was avoiding him. Maybe it was in part. But she felt closer to Karen when she was there. It gave her troubled heart some measure of peace. She couldn't understand it. There was blood evidence at that very spot that stood in mute testimony to some type of violence that was proven to have been directed at Karen. Her daughter could be dead from that very act. But if Marjorie was really quiet and listened really hard, she could swear she heard Karen's laughter floating on the wind. She didn't believe in spirits, at least not the ghostly kind that returned from the grave. Karen had no grave so that meant she was still alive. She knew that made her sound crazy and she didn't care. Her own mother was a nurse and she kept reminding her that Karen probably hadn't survived the loss of blood with her anemia. Why was everyone so anxious to bury her child? She couldn't understand. All she understood was that Karen was out there somewhere and she needed to be found!
The Jeffersons were absolutely no help at all to Marjorie. The father was a drunk and a mean one at that. The mother was a mousey sort of a woman who would never think to stand up to her husband...even when it came to her own child. She didn't like that similarity. Paul had an older sister but, apparently she was glad he was gone. Sorry he hadn't done it sooner actually. Maybe then Paul's mother would leave his father. But none of them knew Karen. Never met her. So sorry about your loss but Paul didn't bring his dates home, she'd been told. Little wonder. At least Karen had brought Paul home to a few dinners, not that Richard made the boy feel welcome. The last thing Pauls father said before she'd left their trailer made her sick. His loser son had done one of two things. He's taken that daughter of hers to the clinic to end his mistake or he's shacked up with her somewhere to get her knocked up. His words, not Marjorie's. Either way, he assured her that it wouldn't end well. Almost as an afterthought, Paul's mother told her the first thing she didn't know and something she couldn't wrap her brain around. Maybe Karen had run off with that lesbian friend of hers, Traci Cord.
Both Marjorie and Richard dreaded the ringing of the phone. What was the old saying? No news is good news. But after two months of prayer vigils, flyers and newpaper ads in all the papers including and surrounding Gettysburg, they desperately needed some news. And then the worst thing a parent could ever hear finally came through. They were needed to identify a body in York County. A young woman, approximately Karen's age, had been beaten to death and dumped in the Susquehannah River. The body had been in the water for maybe a month and both parents were told that it wouldn't be a pretty sight. Half the way to York, Richard had convinced his wife that he should go in to view the body alone. After much deliberation, Marjorie agreed. It was important for her to remember Karen as she was. Tears overtook her when she realized that he'd already talked her into believing that Karen was dead! The morgue had a sickeningly sweet smell about it that no amount of antiseptic could cover. Marjorie watched Richard disappear behind double doors. She sat down heavily. All she could do was wait and pray.
Richard took a deep breath and held it. He was trying to steel himself for what he knew would be the hardest thing he would ever have to do. The drawer groaned as it opened. The doctor held the edge of the sheet and he nodded his approval. Richard Hampton would have nightmares for weeks. The bloated body, the fetid wounds made his stomach rebel and he turned and dropped to his knees to vomit. He heard the drawer slam closed and allowed himself to be help to his feet. The medical examiner handed him a small bottle of Scope and pointed to a sink accross the room. He gladly rinsed his mouth and washed his face and hands. The doctor was standing there waiting for an answer. He gave the docotr the answer and burst through the double doors with long strides. Marjorie looked up at him with red rimmed eyes.
"Let's go home. It's not her, Praise the Lord, Marjorie. It's not Karen!"



Traci had worked day and night on the minor alterations the white dress required. When she helped Karen into it, she thought she'd finally seen what an angel was supposed to look like. Her friend looked radiant. Traci sighed as she took her place beside Robin. No, she wasn't in love with Karen, but she enjoyed the banter with her much in the same way Karen enjoyed tormenting Angus. And Karen was such a good friend that she put her Bible away when it came to Traci. A hush came over the parlor as Karen descended the stairs on Angus's arm. The old man was beaming with pride. Traci looked at Paul and he returned his gaze to the woman who would soon be his bride. She'd told him in no uncertain terms that, if he ever hurt Karen, she would personally kick his ass all the way back to the twentieth century. Angus had provided the matched simple gold bands that had been his and Annabelle's. There was no tension when the room was asked if anyone had any objections. It was very clear that Paul and Karen were meant to be together. The difference in religion and temprament be damned. Just the waythey looked at each other left no doubt in anyone's mind. Maybe it didn't start out that way but the ending was what truly counted. The 'I dos" were quick and the rings in place. In very short order the ceremony was over and Karen Lee Hampton was Mrs. Paul Jefferson. Everybody heard Angus's sigh of relief. But the highlight of the day was when the girls and Paul decided to call it a night. Jennie Wade had returned to her sister's house in town. Angus was passing the scotch bottle to Mike and Chris and George in the parlor. Robin had just gone into the room she shared with Traci. Just as Karen was about to go into her room, Traci put a hand on her shoulder.
"Good luck, buddy. If anybody can make this right, you can."
"Thanks, Traci."
"Don't I get to kiss the bride?"
Karen looked at Paul and then at Traci. Paul didn't know about Traci and Karen just assumed that she wanted to keep it that way. "Okay. But on the cheek," she whispered.
Traci aimed for her friend's cheek but at the last minute, she detoured. The kiss she planted on her lips took Karen so off guard that she couldn't move. When the kiss ended merely a second or two later, Traci smiled devilishly and held her hands in the air. "See? No hands." And then she went to bed.
Karen grabbed Paul's hand and dragged him into their bedroom and locked the door. "Not one word!"
He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots. "That was...uh..." He was trying to desperately keep a straight face and he couldn't finish the thought.
She was furious and she finished the thought for him. "That was as far as I'm ever gonna go. So get the thought out of your mind!"
Paul helped her out of the undergarments and the dress and laid it carefully over the back of the vanity chair. She let her hair fall free and got into bed. He pressed his lips to hers and felt the full length of her body press into him. She felt so good. She always did, but tonight it was different. She was his wife. He pulled away just long enough to strip naked. When he got back into bed he started kissing her neck and then her collarbone. "As erotic as that might sound," he said softly. His lips moved to the spot between her breasts. "I refuse to share you with anybody, unless..."
"Unless?" she repeated.
"Unless the person at your breast will be growing up to call you Mommy. What did you think I was going to say?"
"I was afraid to imagine!" She put both hands on his chest and pushed him on his back. He was in too much shock to protest and she lowered herself onto him. "You think I'm an airhead?"
"No!" She was as soft as a kid glove around him and she wasn't playing. There was no way to pull away from her at that critical moment.
She knew just what he'd been doing and she knew how to control him. His senses were reeling! "Oh, shit! Y-You need to...God! Stop!" He reflexively gripped her waist, knowing that she was intentionally driving him to a release that he wanted desperately to withhold from her for her own safety.
"I know when I'm not gettin' one hundred percent. And ...oh, God! Damn! I wasn't expecting that!" She watched his eyes roll back in his head before slipping between the sheets next to him. She was breathing almost as hard as he was. "And I know why you're doing it. Tomorrow is July first. The battle begins and none of us will ever be the same. We can't change history. Not even our own. Don't hold out on me...on us...because you're afraid of getting me pregnant."
He felt his voice return. "I don't wanna lose you, babe."
"You have to believe that you're not gonna lose me."
"I...I don't have that kind of faith. I don't need a son...or a daughter. I need you."
"And you have me. You're amazing and you fullfill my every need. You just did." She wiped a tear from his cheek and rested her head on his chest for a sleep that would be hard coming. "I have enough faith for both of us, Paul. Someday you will, too. I guarantee it."