I Will Always Come Home To You
by Andrea Dean Van Scoyoc

   She stood, anxiously waiting, at her kitchen window, as she had done, every day, for the past two years, awaiting word from her husband, who was far from home, fighting for Southern independence. The year was 1864 and although she hated the thought of her husband being so far away from her, she knew he was doing what he thought best for them both.

   She strained her eyes, as a small, lone figure made his way up the dirt path. It was a young boy. She hoped he did not need food, as she barely had enough for herself. People kept stealing from her garden, as there were many who were hungry, and she had to pick what she could each day, and bring it inside her home, just to make sure that she herself had enough to eat. She would not turn the boy away though, if he were hungry. That would be utterly unchristian of her to do so.

   As he got closer, she could see that he had a rather large satchel slung over his shoulder. He was very young; maybe ten, and he seemed to sag under the weight he was carrying. She ran out the door to meet him.

   He smiled as he saw her.

   "Mrs. Evalina Sheridan?"

   "Yes, son, I am Mrs. Sheridan."

   "I have a letter for you ma’am. My pa would normally be deliverin’ the mail, but he runned off and joined the Confedrates to fight the Yankeez."

   Evalina smiled sweetly at the boy. It was obvious that he was barely educated, and the poor thing had his hands full trying to carry the mail. She wondered if he could even read most of what he had to deliver. He handed her a letter.

   "Thank you so much son. Your father is a good man…a brave man and I pray that God will see he and my Rufus home, soon."

   The boy smiled, tipped his dirty cap at her, and trudged back down the lane.

   Evalina tore the letter open. She hoped that her darling Rufus was getting enough to eat, keeping warm and not being chased by Yankees night and day. The letter started off the same as they always did…

February 1864

 

My dearest Evalina,

   I hope you are well my darling. We are fine here. I cannot tell you where I am at, for obvious reasons, but I can tell you that I am fine. It is very cold here, but we are managing to stave the chill off. It continues to gnaw at our bones like a hungry animal, but we have blankets and a large fire going. I am thankful, for we have passed men in other camps that have had far less. I am teaching one of the younger men in the regiment to read! How happy he seems to be! He is seventeen years old and a farm boy. He never had time to read, let alone be educated in other subjects, as he has spent his days picking cotton and beans. He lives on a large farm in Alabama and the entire family works it, even the youngest child, who is barely out of diapers. The boy is a fine lad, with good morals and a strong Christian upbringing. He is not a half bad soldier either. He says hunting with his father is the reason he can shoot so well. I see a promotion for him…I really do. I hope you are well my love and do not despair…I have told you many times, and I will continue to tell you…I will always come home to you.

Yours forever my dear,

Rufus

   Evalina loved reading her husband’s letters. They had both been schoolteachers before the trouble came, and he had never ceased to amaze her with his knowledge. Evalina missed teaching school. She missed the children; she missed the picnics, the field trips to local areas of interest, so the children could learn about events that had happened long before any of them had been born. She hoped that once the war was over, she could go back to that simple and carefree life.

   It had been while teaching school that she and Rufus had met. They had only been married two years, but it seemed like much more.

   Evalina lit the oil lamps in the small, wooden cabin, and settled into her rocker, with her quilting. She was making the quilt for her Rufus, as a memorial of his service. She planned on presenting it to him when he came home. She knew he would come home, he had promised. He ended each of his letters the same, with that promise of returning home, and she knew that nothing would keep them apart. Her fingers moved easily over the thick material as she sewed, in and out, in and out. She didn’t remember falling asleep.

   The sound of cannon fire woke her. She started and then jumped up. The cannons were right outside her home! It was daytime, but she couldn’t see anything, save for the thick, black smoke that filled the air. She threw her quilt down and ran outside. She choked as smoke filled her throat and clouded her eyes. The smell of black powder gagged her. Men in dark blue uniforms were running everywhere, shouting, crying and in the midst of it, she saw men in gray, and they too were shouting and some were crying. Another blast of cannon fire nearly caused her heart to stop. It seemed as if they were aiming for her! She stumbled out into the melee, her handkerchief covering her mouth. She couldn’t see where she was going, but she managed to make it to the top of the hill beside her home. She coughed and looked around. She could barely see, but then she saw something that caught her eye. A man was waving to her, a big smile on his face.

   "Evalina! Evalina!"

   Evalina strained her eyes. Who could this man be? She didn’t know any of these men! But wait, that hat, and that jacket! Why, she would know those anywhere! Those belonged to her Rufus!

   "Rufus! Rufus! I am here my love!"

   She ran down the small hill, as fast as her legs would carry her, and into her husband’s arms. He kissed her gently, but quickly.

   "I must get back to battle now my darling, but see, it is as I have told you, time and time again…I will always come home to you."

   Evalina jumped out of her rocker. Her quilting was laying on the floor in front of her, the sunlight was pouring through the open, kitchen window and the birds were singing their morning greeting. She ran outside, but heard no cannon fire, no shouting, no cries, the air was crisp and clear, and no black powder choked her nostrils, or dirtied her golden hair. It had all been a dream…a very realistic dream. She dropped to her knees and prayed.

   Evalina was hesitant to answer the door. Usually that meant bad news in some form or another. She shuddered as she remembered the day that a man had burst into her house. He had been very obviously hungry, and his clothes were tattered, but he had not needed to force his way into her home; Evalina would have shared what she had with him, and made him new clothes to wear. Instead, she ended up hitting him in the head with her best, cast iron frying pan, and killing him. She had not meant to kill him, and the thought of his glazed and lifeless eyes, still stared out at her from her darkest dreams. He had given her no choice though…it had been his life or hers, as he meant to do her harm, and brandished a knife, for proof.

   She cautiously crept to the door.

   "Evalina? Are you in there? It’s Marcy Paxton! Evalina?"

   Evalina threw open the door. She had known Marcy for years. She too was a teacher, and she and her husband Sanders, were dear friends of theirs.

   "Marcy! Come in, come in!"

   The lady hurried into the house and put her hand to her heart, in an attempt to catch her breath.

   "Why Marcy! Did you run all the way here? Sit down and let me get you a cup of tea."

   Marcy recuperated on Evalina’s couch, as tea was fixed. Evalina handed her friend a small cup of steaming tea. Marcy’s breathing was easier, but her face was still pallid and her eyes wild. The news she bore must be bad, Evalina thought.

   "Evalina, I come bearing bad news. There was a battle in Smithfield, Virginia yesterday and Sanders is there!"

   "Oh Marcy, I am so sorry! I had no idea that he was there. Oh I hope he is all right!"

   Marcy shook her head.

   "That is not the worst of it Evalina. Rufus is with Sanders!"

   "What? Oh now Marcy that cannot be true! I just received a letter from Rufus yesterday! If he were that close, surely he would have told me, but in the letter, he plainly said he could not tell me his whereabouts!"

   Again, Marcy shook her head.

   "Sanders was not supposed to tell me either, but he did. Evalina…he and Rufus are together! They combined two regiments to fight against the large contingent of Yankees that are sweeping through Virginia and the Confederates took huge losses and there were many injuries and captures. I heard the news from Old Lady Bradley down at the square this morning. I do not normally go to town, and never alone, and certainly not in these times, but I could not just stay in that house, knowing that Sanders is so close. Old Lady Bradley was doing her candle making, as she always does, and it was she who told me the news. She got it from her daughter, who lives right in Smithfield. The Yankees commandeered her daughter’s house to use as a hospital. Ashton said the death and the injuries were nearly more than she could bear. She is acting as a nurse. Old Lady Bradley did manage to tell me though, that Ashton did not see anyone bearing the descriptions of Sanders or Rufus amongst the dead that were being buried in mass graves, or that were brought into the house with injuries. We can still pray for the best Evalina."

   Evalina scarcely heard her, she was weeping too loudly.

   Evalina could not sleep. It had been two days since her conversation with Marcy and her dreams were troubled. Was her darling Rufus still alive? Was he horribly injured somewhere and left to die? Had he been captured? Evalina had heard how prisoners of war were treated, on both sides, and she prayed for death, before capture, for her husband.

   When Evalina realized she was sleepy, the first tinges of color were peeking over the blackened horizon. Out of habit, she went to the kitchen window and stared out. The morning turned from pale orange to a light yellow, as the sun filled the sky and caressed her face.

   It was warm, and made her think back to her childhood and how happy she had been. She almost didn’t see the figure coming down the path to her home. It was obviously a man. Evalina panicked. She ran to the kitchen and grabbed her frying pan, ready to defend her life again, if necessary. She ran back to the window and strained hard, to see who was coming down the path.

   Then she saw it, as she had seen it so many times… they were so familiar to her! That cap, that jacket, hand sewn by her before he left for war! She ran to the door and threw it open, frying pan still in her hand.

   "Rufus? Rufus? Oh darling can that be you?"

   She dropped the frying pan and ran to her husband, falling into his arms.

   He held her tightly, and she sobbed as she held him close. It wasn’t until she ran her hands down the back of his jacket, that she felt something, cold and damp. She pulled her hand away and it was covered in drying blood.

   "Oh darling, you are hurt! Let me get you into the house and I will treat you!"

   Evalina wrapped her arm around her husband’s waist and helped him into the house.

   Rufus took his jacket off and sat down, as Evalina got medical supplies from the kitchen cupboard. Evalina looked at her husband’s face very carefully. He was pale and his lips had no color. He was obviously very tired and had probably lost a tremendous amount of blood. But he was home…and that was all that mattered.

   But Evalina’s joy turned to horror, as she looked at her husband’s back. A gaping hole had torn nearly all of his back away, and the bones were decimated, into a mesh of dried and drying, blood, and organs. She gasped and stumbled backward.

   Her husband rose and smiled at her, but no emotion backed the smile. It was as if it was from memory or instinct, an inborn gesture. The smile was a vacant smile, the smile of something lifeless.

   "Do not despair my love. It is only I, your Rufus. Did I not tell you that I would always come home to you?"

 ©2004 Andrea Dean Van Scoyoc

Andrea Dean Van Scoyoc is a published author of Goth/Macabre Erotica and has been a published poet for many years. Her works have been featured both on the Internet and in print, in many anthologies. Andrea has most recently had her short story "Michael" accepted for publication by Evil Book publishing and her newly published novel, "The Grounds of Nachmasheeghan," is available for immediate order through her publishing company, The Rose Crystal Publishing Company,
http://www.angelfire.com/goth2/mypersonalpage/The%20Rose%20Crystal%20Publishing%20Company2.htm
which is a unique, eclectic and innovative type of publishing venue. Andrea hopes to change the future of publishing with her unique style of publishing works, and will be accepting works for publication within the next few months. Andrea hopes to be published within the coming months through a major publisher and will keep everyone informed through her website.

Andrea is, in her spare time, an aspiring Gothic Model, and enjoys visiting old, historical cemeteries, and engaging in cemetery photography. Andrea lives in Tampa, Florida.