Horrible Harvest

I stopped securing the rope to his right wrist.

“It is damning. For both of you.”

The sergeant waved the barrel of his gun at the colonel. “How’s ‘bout you shut up that mouth of yours, Stockton?”

“There’s no harm in talking, is there?”

“There’s harm in it. Grates on me. You’re squawking like a goddamn chicken. Hurts my ears.”

“I’m merely informing Augustus that General Miller is in possession of his letter. The one he wrote to the general’s son. It is enlightening. Descriptive. A literary masterpiece. Each word, profound. It tells an intriguing story.”

“What’s he on about, Tennyson?”

I grabbed Mr. Stockton’s left wrist and yanked it behind his back, bending it in an unnatural position, pulling another yelp of pain out of him. “Ain’ t nothing, Mr. Hicks, sir – He’s on about nothing. He thinks he’s clever, is what it is. He thinks he’s getting under my skin.”

Catching his breath from the pain, Mr. Stockton said, “Perhaps the sergeant should remove himself, so we can talk.”

I wrapped the rope around the phony colonel’s left wrist so tightly, his fingers turned Yankee blue. “Ain’t got no interest in talking with you.”

“O’Dell – He found the letter – Major O’Dell. You must have met him. He commands Kenneth’s medical unit. You are, I am told, a frequent visitor to the unit when you’re in Charleston. He knows you. Well.”

“I know a lot of folks.”

“Yes, well, your constant presence sparked curiosity in the doctor. He found it – strange. So strange that he felt compelled to go through Kenneth’s belongings when they were left unattended. That’s where he found your letter. Among Kenneth’s socks and other sundries.”

The colonel’s hands now secured tightly behind his back, I moved to face him.

“The major telegrammed General Miller and arranged a meeting.”

I unsheathed my knife.

“Wha’choo doing, Tennyson?”

“I got a mind to end his chattering.”

“Hold your mood, young’un. Can’t no harm come to the man. Captain Docherty will have our backsides.”

Mr. Stockton put on that he was cocky and unafraid, but a heavy stream of sweat traveling along his forehead give away that he was playacting. “A meeting – A meeting was arranged. The nature of the letter was explained to the general – one of the five pages, was handed over. As a sample.”

I reached for Mr. Stockton’s belly.

The colonel swallowed the dryness building in his mouth. “It was – The major’s intentions were made clear – It was blackmail. That was his purpose for the meeting. He would hand over the remaining pages for a sizeable sum.”

I yanked the tail of Mr. Stockton’s shirt free from the waist of his pants.

“He was – He was paid. A large – Large ransom.”

I locked eyes with Mr. Stockton and slow as a slug brought the blade of my knife forward.

“Tennyson. Alive. The captain said. Don’t you make him otherwise.”

“That is my leverage – Augustus. You join our brigade – On this night – And Kenneth is sent away unharmed – Tomorrow. Back to Charleston.”

I poked the blade through the colonel’s shirt. “Why?”

“Alive,” Mr. Stockton said. “Remember your captain’s orders.”

“Answer my question. Why?”

“Why what?”

“If the letter – If it be in your possession, and it says – if it come out to mean what you think it means – Why would you want me to join your shit brigade?”

Mr. Stockton snickered as if this was a ridiculous question. “You’ve a talent, boy. You possess a skill for slaughter like no other. The Devil seeded you. That’s clear for all to see. Your mother educated you. This marriage of the two sides of you has created a warrior like none exists in this war. We’ve heard of your exploits on the battlefield. You’ve earned the confidence of commanders of all ranks from campaign to campaign. Talk of you follows General Miller wherever we go.

“Your sins? They give you value. In this time. This place.  The Devil himself has granted you his favor. You are one of the few who can out grind the hellish grind of a war. You are a miracle, boy, and we think it a waste you are not a member of the only brigade striking fear into the hearts of the Union scum who invade our holy land.”

I sliced away a huge piece of cloth from Mr. Stockton’s shirt. “Ain’t a thing holy about this place.”

“You’ve been led astray, boy – ”

I grabbed Mr. Stockton’s throat with my left hand and stuffed the severed piece of cloth into the his gaping mouth. “You’ve gone off in the head, Mr. Stockton. Sure as shit. You’re to be took to Chattanooga tonight, and you’ll face a court martial. Of that I ain’t nothing but certain, and Mr. Miller? He ain’t gonna see the sun come up tomorrow. Ima make sure of it.”

Mr. Stockton struggled against his restraints and let out a muffled protestation.

I turned to the sergeant. “Is that gonna be a problem, Mr. Hicks, sir?” The sergeant hesitated before saying, “Is what gonna be a problem? I ain’t heard a thing since Captain Docherty skipped on out of here. Far as I know, ain’t a word been uttered this whole entire time.”