Reckon there'll al'ays be slav'ry. Question is, who's the slave an' who's the slaver? Any'ays, never figured I'd be on no short end o' the stick!

Since the rest a'you've told how y'got here, guess it's my canon-fodder time.

As I recollect, I climbed down off a train car up on the levee in town an' stumbled my way down embankment steps to the Illinois Central shed; 'afore, I'd gone in on the fort and town side an' stepped out on the Ohiee side wide door to a steamer. But this time, I walked right smack into the town's Ladies Soldiers' Aid Society wearin' their sun bonnets an' aprons an' pourin' stuff from steamin' pitchers or holdin' out trays of bisquits to troopers standin' or sittin' on barrels chompin' n' drinkin' away. I hoped the ladies was pourin' more'n roasted acorn water!

No one was talkin' loud when I walked in. My intentions was t'go directly t'the Ohiee side wide door but it weren't no ways t'be found in the darkness of that shed. So, I dropped my roll an' took a bisquit an' hot cup from a kindly lookin' gran'ma who was smilin' her way through our blue coats. I plumped down on a barrel like ones I'd seed many a'time with handprint on 'em: "flour," "salt belly," n' "coffee beans" n' sich. Sittin' on that there barrel I was all full a piss n' vinigar! I knowed I could whup any damn gray coats that I was to come across, an' I sure din't wanna be home anymore 'cause my wound from the last fracas was healin' real good. Hell, I felt footloose n' fancy-free, y'might say!

When I looked over across the shed agin, I saw her standin' there, right in the middle of that riverside doorway that I couldn't see afore.

The brightness comin' into the shed aroun' her allowed me t'see only the silhouette of a small figured lady.

When she stepped inside I saw her head was covered with a hood an' the rest of the cape she wore covered her body to t'floor. She held a Gladstone in one hand. I starred at her 'cause where I come from ladies don't travel by theirselves 'less'n they have to. She came over an' seated herself on a empty barrel next to me, all the time lookin' as though not so shore 'bout things she was seein' in the shed. All the boys was sneakin' looks at her, but tryin' not to stare. Maybe they was thinkin' like me: she belonged in the civilian depot up a ways on the levee bank.

I guessed the Cairo Ladies' Soldiers Aid Society food an' drink din't seem to have nothin' t'do with how she seemed to be thinkin' on somethin' real hard.

Well sir, I surprised myself at what I did then! 'Here,' I said, an' reached my cup over to her. 'Looks like you need this Kentuck' coffee tree black water more'n me!'

She turned 'er head this way n' that while she took the cup. I'd brushed a couple of her fingers an' they felt real cold through her lacey half-gloved hand.

A feller on the other side of her hailed a possum comin' through the town-side door an' got up an' went over to greet him. 'You too?' I thought I heard him ask.

'Yeah, me too,' was his pal's response.

With her left hand she pulled a edge of her cape hood closer aroun' her head. 'It's good to set up straight, now!' she said.

The way she talked I could tell she had learnin'-y'understan' I ain't sayin' the words right now the way she said 'em, but I'm jist givin' you a idea of what she tole me. Her voice was prolly the purttiest I'd ever heard an' it reminded me of somethin' or someone, but I couldn't put my finger on it right then n' there.

''Cuse me, while I get another cup,' I told her.

The lady standin' behind a door layin' flat on three barrels din't look at me when I asked fer another cup. An' she din't say nothin', neither.

When I got back to the lady in the cape I could tell she was starin' at my uniform even though I couldn't see her face. I knew my wools wasn't in the best shape, what with all it'd taken me through. Ma'd tried repairin' it some an' cleaned it. I 'member right then I missed my ma somethin' awful, an' I din't know why. Shame come over me 'cause I suddenly felt like I wanted t'look my best fer this lady.

'Would y'like me t'get you a bisquit? I c'n see if the ladies have any ginger cakes.'

She din't say nothin'.

An' so I said to her: 'I was in Colonel Shelby's brigade that helped whup Marmaduke at Cape Girardeau City!' Fer some reason I wanted her t'know that, only I couldn't think why she should.

'...Marmaduke ... Cape Girardeau?' She finally repeated, only it were a question-like.

The town-side door banged open.

Two kid glove boys came in an' went right up to a young female in the corner who was fixin' another pot a' black water an' who-if I do say so myself-looked like one of them jolly-time saloonees that I'd seed aroun' ever' camp I been in.

'Given t'me t'night, love?' one of the men said loud enough fer everyone in the place t'hear. He put one arm aroun' her an' with the other smacked her backside.

I shot a look at the lady beside me an' don't mind sayin' I felt shy. I figured them parlor soldier fellers was wallpapered. 'Don't make a public spectacle of yerselves!' our buggers had warned us. That's 'cause we was wearin' the uniform of the Union of America! An' our wools even stood fer ole Father Abraham hisself!

'Got a couple pounds more meat fer yuh than las' time,' one of them blowhards said. Yup, he was tight an' smilin' an' lookin' aroun' t'see if we all heard him.

We sure did. An' I din't want the ladies to hear sich talk, I'll tell ya! But them Cairo Ladies Soldiers Aid Society folk jist kept on servin' bisquits an' black water an' smilin' an actin' like they din't hear any of that field hand talk.

'Are you waitin' fer a steamer?' I finally asked the lady in the cape. I said it more t'block out the dirty talk from her ears; I actually din't care what she was there fer.

'Steamer?'

'This time, I'm goin' east, up the Ohiee instead of down the Mississip! Joinin' my regiment agin after bein' home recuperatin'. Took me a minnie ball at Girardeau City,' I told her.

She looked to me agin. Then, she said, 'East?'

'Yes ma'am. I'm waitin' fer the next Ohiee steamer that'll git me to where ever they send me out there!'

Then I was sorry right off: I din't know why I said I was goin' anyplace, anyhow, 'cause we wasn't supposed t'say where we was goin'. Might be spies, we'd been tole.

'Don't be afeared a death,' our sergeant tole us, 'but be more afeared a spies!'

Then: '...Oh, no!' she said so soft I could barely hear, 'The east ain't safe!' she almost shouted at me.

'East not safe? Yeah, I c'n see how you might think like that. Yes maam,' an' I nodded my head.

All of a sudden, I was rattled by a train's sounds comin' from up top on the levee in town an' soundin' like it was chuggin' along right smart without any thought of slowin' down. That was a puzzlement; if a train kept on a goin' through town an' past the camp it'd go right splash into the spot where the Ohiee n' Mississip come together.

The crash I listened fer never come!

I pulled my bandana out of a blouse pocket an' ran it 'roun' my face. It seemed like a awful blast o' heat hit me jist then an' I hoped she din't see my hand shakin'.

I figured my battle wound was keepin' me feelin' a might poorly! The Western Union clock on the wall above all the Cairo Ladies Soldiers Aid Society women was hard fer me t'see; too many shadows.

She asked. 'Are you on orders?'

'Orders? Not 'xactly, ma'am. My Captain-he's nice enough, I suppose-he jist said when t'be back or things'd be a might troublesome fer me!'

I thought I better shut my mouth.

She din't seem to be listenin' to me, anyways. Y'all know what I mean? Ever been a talkin' to somebody an' they don't seem t'hear what yer sayin'?

Well, she turned her head an' seemed t'look over my right shoulder, then she said, 'Your blue coat comrades was in the middle of somethin', somewhere, wasn't they?'

'In the middle of somethin'?'

'We was certainly in the middle of it earlier t'day, wasn't we?' she went on. 'Right in the middle of Cor'don!'

'Cor'don, Indianee? Doggies, that's where I'm from! I don't think I know you, do I? Uh, you tryin' t'git back there? Din't know trains was still runnin' aroun' that way!'

If she'd pushed the hood away from her face I thought I'd know her fer sure!

'Trains?' she finally said as her head turned to me agin. 'There'll be more trains and steamboats. They'll want to git the injured from across the river.' An' she reminded me that the Mounds hospital near Cairo was spillin' over with wounded.

She shook her head slowly. 'Cor'don was out of it, till today! The home guard couldn't stop Morgan's Raiders,' she tole me. An she said some folk she knowed was killed or wounded bad. Her friends an' kinfolk hid out in case the confederates came back, she said.

I straightened my back without intendin' too. 'What happened at Cor'don? Do you know my folks? Are they all right?' My heart started poundin' real hard. I opened my mouth to give'er my name, but she went on-

'They must be proud of themselves tonight! They got us good, din't they, Frank?'

That was the first I heard that name an' it hit me like lightnin'! I heard a sob come from under the hood.

'Is ... Frank a friend of yours?'

'Friend?' she repeated, softly.

She turned her head away from me.

Then: 'Yes...' she said. 'Yes, that, too. The best ... friend I've ever had! That's a nice way of puttin' it. Frank, you was the best friend that I've ... ever ... known.'

Her voice trailed off while there came a awful pounding in my head! My innards twisted an' right then I think I was more afeared than I'd ever been in my whole life!

'What?' I sputtered. My face turned hot like every time I feel myself gittin' shy. My mind went numb. I couldn't think what t'do.

'Why, Frank, darling,' I remember her voice sounded real purtty agin to me, 'yer dead, now. Dead!'

She spoke louder. 'There! I've finally said it!' She heaved a big sigh. 'I've finally said it!'

I opened m' mouth but no words came out.

I choked. I gasped. Finally, I heard a hoarse voice: mine. 'What'er y'sayin'?'

She seemed t'be havin' trouble takin' in air.

'All of us here," she said in a lower voice, 'have passed on!'

She swept a arm aroun' the shed. 'All...' She repeated.

I felt like I was fallin'!

My comrades looked kinda frozen right where they was sittin' or standin'.

Only the Cairo Ladies Soldiers Aid Society moved aroun' the shed, slow, pourin' black water into tin cups an' holdin' out plates of bisquits-an' smilin'. An' they said nary a word.

It was then I thought I 'membered her voice! But, I couldn't recall the face of the girl that I was goin' to marry! I reached a hand out to her.

Her whole body shivered. She said: 'Everyone on Capitol road heard a commotion comin' from one edge o' town.'

Her voice sounded trance-like as she remembered.

'I looked up into the sky,' she went on, 'an' shaded my eyes with m' hands as the ground shook. I looked to where you was motionin' me to git over t'the ole capitol building. There was a explosion 'tween us an' I knew it must be a cannonball.'

Something' she'd read or heard made her know that, I guess.

She couldn't feel nothin' as she fell to the road, she tole me. She said, 'I heard screamin' voices of those who'd been in the road near me. When the smoke cleared, I turned my head in the wet earth an' looked across a large hole in the road an' saw you.' She meant me!

I got cold all over when I heard her think she'd seen me in that there road in Cor'don.

There I was, she insisted, only she couldn't see my head!

'Poor thing!' she tole me she heard somebody say. An' somebody else said, 'She was so purtty!'

'I knowed I was dead!' she tole me with both of us sittin' kinda together in that Illinois Central car shed. 'I felt at peace,' she said, 'an' I knew everythin' would be all right, somehow, because you was dead there in the street with me. You always made everythin' all right fer us.'

In all of my born days I'd never been so scared with what she was sayin'!

A strangeness come over me 'cause I started feelin' what she was tellin' me; my body was on a road an' a horse's hooves was kickin' me in my side. I felt but I couldn't see.

Sittin' ramrod straight in that Illinois Central shed, I rolled my eyes over to the Western Union on the wall; it din't have no hands to show the time! Only, I could hear it's loud tickin'!

'What'll we do, Lieutenant? What d' we do now, Lieutenant?' I was hearin' myself say right then, but my mouth weren't open. I was 'memberin' a battle-field, but I din' know which one.

'But, what about you?' I thought an' she seemed t' hear me.

'When you boys die,' she said, 'yer love dies with you, a little bit, whether she knows it or not. Don't that give y' some comfort?' I can't never ferget them words; they sounded so sweet to my ears! The Ladies' Soldiers Aid Society women went slow an' quiet amongst us troopers while we stayed as still as cornfield scarecrows.

Then I had a sudden feelin' I had t'do somethin'. Any somethin'! An' I had places t'go! I found myself standin'. I heard my voice agin; I think I was yellin'. 'Move! For god's sakes, fall back!' I couldn't keep myself from yellin' that.

I looked aroun'. I'd shamed myself! I felt my face heat up agin. Then, I was too hot all over. I 'member thinkin', 'Is it all right, Ma, if I wet my pants? I can't hole' myself any longer...'

'Did I tell you...' I heard that young lady say.

Her voice interrupted the pitchers I was puttin' t'gether in my mind.

'Did I tell you we was elopin'?' She still talked in a trance-like way, somethin' I was afeared I was catchin' from her.

I reached over agin to her an' my hand went right through hers. But I felt a coolness from her that was good to my hot body.

'What'd you ever see in me?' I heard my voice ask without me even tryin' to open my mouth.

She answered me with her voice echoin' from somewheres away from the car shed. 'Y' got many men don't,' she said to me, 'Honesty, decency, an' above all, honor.'

What come over me next was a feelin' of helplessness; the same I had sittin' on the groun' tryin' to pray life back into that boy's body that'd been hit by the Confederate cannonball in Cor'don. I thought I knew him, knew that dead soldier real good. Only, I couldn't be sure it was the same one I'd shared a chaw with by campfire the night afore. But, I knowed that whosomeever he was, he din't deserve t'go like that!

The smell of wild honey come to me then, like what used t' be in the stand o' trees out behind our barn back home. Sometimes we'd jist take our han's an' scoop it out an' then set down on the ole log Pa was al'ays gonna clear away an' never did. We'd clean our han's by lickin 'em silly an' chawin' the bees wax while we went along!

So I took her as one a' my troubles now. Could I leave 'er? I hadn't left nary a boy when Confederates was layin' in t'us at Girardeau City. Never did! I'd al'ays stayed at my post, refusin' the Devil's temptations to run an' hide till t'shootin' stopped. I tried to be a good soldier, an' a man the way Pa tole' me when I went off t'war. Jist then I reached down, felt the shrapnel in my leg the surgeons din't get out an' it seemed like more was there as I looked at 'er. I felt proud, an' I din't know why.

I wanted t' ask her, 'Who fights wars?' But my mouth din't open an' I din't hear my voice. The question din't get asked then, but I think I know the answer now. Don't all o' you know?'

Right then when my question din't get asked I thought as how maybe she needed a doctor.

'Amb'ance Corps!' I din't know if I had yelled it or thought it.

She got up and moved without noise to the riverside door where light was still spillin' in awful bright. I wondered how she did that, no noise, I mean; like floatin' while I was bangin' my kit an' her Gladstone aginst tables an' chairs an' bumpin' troopers until I reached her side.

I was soaked with sweat when I dropped our bags by the door. My heart thumped till it hurt, y'know, like when we're runnin' through brush with kits on our backs.

A steamer's whistle started blowin' from somewheres on the river. Coolness touched my cheek.

'I'll go afore you, darlin'!' I heard 'er voice say. 'It'll be here soon an' then you'll be on yer way!'

My sweetheart's voice calmed me!

It was hard to move agin, but I forced my head to turn in her direction.

'I wanna see yer face, oncet more,' I yelled.

Her body shimmered like heat waves far away on a summer's afternoon. She pulled the hood down from her head.

She had no face!

After she reached down to pick up her Gladstone, she was gone.

I gasped an' I think I cried. I would never see the face of my darlin' agin as my mind worked hard to 'member what she looked like! The steamer whistle blowed louder, like it was stuck or somethin'. I had never heard sich a screamin' whistle. It begin burnin' itself into my brain! The steamer's sidewheel was goin' backwards and forwards an' churnin' too fast an' too loud through the water.

I retched blood. I couldn't help myself. I wet my pants agin.

My mind felt them fellers back in the shed wavin' at me.

'Yer turn, trooper!' I heard a voice yell out. Then, laughter.

An ole lady's voice said. 'More coffee, boys? Bisquits? Some o' y'got a long wait, y'know!'

My feet felt wet as I stood on the steamer deck an' knowed I was th' only passenger! The paddle wheel was turnin' into a sound I'd never heard afore.

An' the boat was too hot fer me, not cool like it was afore when we got out on the river an' breezes from off the water hit our faces. My body went limp when I found m'self back at the Girardeau works an' I smelled sweet roses mixed with fresh dug dirt an' caps an' gunpowder an' men's sweat.

I felt like I was bein' pulled this way an' that, an' all the time nobody never asked me which way I wanted to go.

Next, I was a boy agin, fishin' an' swimmin' naked in Li'l Injun Crick when fish din't bite my hook.

Things was then crammed into m' mouth. Bein' a babe, I was passed from han' to han' with tobacco smoke blowin' in my face an' me wantin' to cry.

Water splashed as I rode somewheres dark an' tight. I fought to git out.

Walkin' through rough underbrush was what I felt next. M' knuckles hurt 'cause I was draggin 'em on the ground an' gruntin' like a animal wit' rabies or somethin' whilst movin' down into a dark hole. When I was swimmin' agin I knowed I din't have m' man's body while movin' through cold an' dark waters with things alive and dead grabbin' at me.

Eventually, I felt myself bein' a speck in water; wit'out a body, jist floatin'.

Cold an' silent darkness stopped when a snappin' sound brought awareness t' me agin; I was me, but wit'out m' body.

Well, boys, that's how I come t'be here on this little flat piece of somethin' an' packed in along wit' all the rest o' you grey an' blue coats, an' waitin' 'til we're needed in them machines that seem t' be dead 'til they stick one o' us in 'em. Don't hardly seem like we're on earth. You think? Who won that war amongst our states? Did anybody win? I guess it's a might better t' be here now-safe' an' sound in our ole soldiers' home! Wish I could warn 'em on earth they's nothin' t' worry 'bout; after we leave that place, we all jist go on a bein', one way or t'other. If we're soldiers, we help these damned machines move t'their next battles. Tho' I wish I could stan' under that ole Con'tution Elm in them sweet hills a' Cor'don, Indianee, an' tell all them folks that slavery never really goes away ... an' not t'look fer death t'have a face. Hell, we're all jist so much canon-fodder, one way or t'other in these here slave winds o' space!