For: Michael, A true Southerner with a heart of gold and
the greatest friend one could ask for. I love you, my friend.
No Greater Love
Chapter 8
Holloman House
Thunder continued to rumble and the rain poured down the oak shingles on top of the mansion. Both the windows and the single fixed vane shutters were closed tight against the driving rain and the wind; this was no passing spring shower. The large oak trees with their gray beards of Spanish moss swayed with each gust of the howling wind coming from the North like the Yankee Army after the battle of Shiloh.
Johnny sat at his desk in the corner of the room with a tallow candle burning in the brass holder. Adam was lounging on the big bed, slightly dozing, his head buried in the goosedown pillows and his long red hair spread out down the back of his linen shirt. Every now and then Johnny would look over at his sleeping lover. Four years ago, at the age of 15, Adam Ross was nothing more than a street rat on a dirty Natchez street, working in King's Tavern. Johnny had saved the handsome boy from that dark fate. Could he save him from death in this horrible war?
Johnny opened his Journal, then took the brass tipped quill and dipped it into the dark black ink. He stared at the fresh clean page for a moment, then dated the page: May 1st 1862, Holloman Plantation, Yazoo County, Mississippi. 'I am so worried about Billy. I keep telling Adam that he will get better before too long, but deep inside I fear the worst. The fever is still way too high and the healing salts don't seem to be working. We have cut back on Morphine, too much will kill him, so says Doc. Hancock. Mother and Father both are worried about him also. Father said the other morning in private that he don't believe that Doc. Hancock believed that Billy was wounded fighting for the South since he had not seen him in over two years. The last time was right before Christmas of 1860. I think Doc. Hancock is still mad from the party when he asked Billy about the color of his politics and Billy replied right back that the color of his politics was nobody's damned business but his own. Billy is a strong-willed person and according to him his little brother Jamey is the same way at times. Billy says that Jamey is already a young heartbreaker.
I heard rumors last night from Father that the Confederate Navy has reinforced the log raft near Hayne's Bluff on the Yazoo. Now only pilots who know the river can get through. Also they have mounted a big gun up there, a 24 pounder according to what father heard. I can tell by the look on Father's face something is on his mind that concerns me and Adam but he will not say, he has to be in the right state of mind when he says it. Today it is really raining. I have not seen it pour this bad since January. We really need the rain, the crops are beginning to really grow, the corn and field peas are looking nice. The cotton - why bother since we can't ship it any more with New Orleans captured and the Mouth of the Mississippi closed. Oh, what a loss, the largest City in our nation in Yankee hands and the sinking of the Ironclad Louisana and the grounding of the CSS Manassas. If only we had iron works down here like they do up North in Cincinati and Pittsburgh and other places. Richmond has one and Simmes, Alabama. Mississippi has several small ones but nothing of great use. It has been almost five days since the battle of Chickasaw Bayou. I know Captain Brooks understands about my and Adam's absence. I left him a brief note the night we left Vicksburg, that grand city on the hill ringed by guns and forts. My wonderful lad still sleeps, I know he is worn out. The battle really took some of the boyish charm away from him and now Billy laying in the other room in pain does not help my lad. I am so proud of my lad though, he did wonderfully at Chickasaw Bayou. He was sighting our 14 pounders with a skill that not many trained in the art at school could match. I wonder though what he thinks at times when he is silent, with that faraway look in those bright green eyes of his. I know he thinks that the guns he sighted so well was cutting through the ranks of men and boys like me and him. He also thinks and I can feel it that the boy that Billy keeps calling in his dreams was his lover and that just maybe one of the shells he sent raining down on the ranks of the Yankees hit and killed Billy's Davie. I feel his pain because myself is the one who ordered the guns fired. Oh, Dear Lord, what have we started, has the world gone totally mad? I continue to glance over at Adam as he sleeps, sprawled out on the big bed, his red hair flowing down the back of his shirt like a crimson tide. Oh, how I love him, my handsome, charming boy.'
Johnny laid his quill down and placed the cork stopper into the top of the glass ink well. He carefully blotted the damp ink and closed the leather-bound Journal, then quietly he stood and blew out the candle and walked out of the room after leaning over the bed and gently kissing Adam's exposed cheek. Adam never stirred as he slept his deep dreamless sleep.
He walked down the hallway to the stairs and walked quietly down. The big house was silent. As he walked he passed his mother's sewing room and the music room til he came to the open door of his father's study. He knocked on the door jamb and waited for his father's reply.
"You may enter, my son," came the soft but deep voice of his father who was sitting in his big chair behind his desk which was cluttered with papers, open books, plus the large ash tray in which his smoking clay pipe rested, sending pleasant odors of the rich Virginia tobacco around the room.
"Father, may I have a word with you, if you're not busy, of course?"
John looked up from his open ledger. "Of course, my son, you know I am never too busy to speak with my sons." John smiled when he saw Johnny walk around the big desk with a smile on his face.
"Thank you, father." Johnny walked over to stand beside his father's large leather chair, then brushed back some of the open papers and seated himself on the corner of the large oak desk, something he had done since he was old enough to lift himself up that high.
"I see worry in those dark hazel eyes of yours. I have not seen them that dark in almost four years, not since the time Jim was killed in that duel in 1857. After that day I swore you lost what boyhood charm you had left, until graduation day when you marched so proud in that gray cadet's uniform. Fifth in your class of forty, then I saw that sparkle when you brought Adam over to meet us, along with Billy. Then that night while we were alone you told us your plans for young Adam. I saw those eyes sparkle even brighter still when you told us about Adam and how you met him and his story. I could feel the pride in your heart blocking out the darkness of the loss you felt for Jim."
John looked up into the hazel eyes of his son, the same color as his own. He saw the tears flowing down the tanned strong cheeks. But in John's eyes he did not see his boy of 21, he saw his boy when he was younger at 17, the day the world crumbled as he held Jim in his arms in that field after he was shot, the day Johnny shouted for revenge as his tears rolled down his young face. Like then, John stood up from his chair, 6' 5", 230 pounds of all muscle, his beard and mustache with light hints of gray showing, his own hazel eyes misting over. He took Johnny's hand and pulled him close, then sat down and put his son on his knee and held him close as the boy-man, a product of his own flesh and blood, sobbed.
John stroked the long blonde hair of his son as he looked through the open door of his office. His wife Sarah could be heard playing softly on the piano in the music room. "My son, what is wrong?"
"Papa, I am so worried about Billy, I don't think he is getting better at times. His handsome blue eyes are so dim as if," Johnny sniffled and wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve, then after a moment of silence continued, "as if he does not want to live any longer." "At the same time I worry about Adam, we can't stay here hidden from the war no matter how much I want to at times, not out of cowardness but out of my love for him. Father, you remember what you said about the Yankees trying to come up the Yazoo River after they get rid of the log raft. The only thing blocking them now is the guns at Vicksburg. I know one of the ironclads made it past the guns and now is patrolling the lower Mississippi near Port Hudson. That is all the river we still control. The Red is our life line from Texas now. If we lose both Vicksburg and Port Hudson, all is lost, the South will be cut in half. I still remember when Jim and I would sit under the old burr oaks at Jefferson College and talk about what we would do to stop a enemy from invading us. Now it seems like nothing but a childish dream. I never imagined us where we are now."
John looked at his son. "Johnny, listen to me now and listen well. I would give everything I ever worked for to see you happy and to see Adam grow up to be a fine southern gentleman such as yourself, and you have, my son, so has Adam. Love him just as much as I love you and, yes, I know how much you love him. Your mother and I are not blind, I saw that love the first time he stepped through the front door. I knew he would sleep in your bed with you and that is why neither myself nor your mother has ever said one word about fixing up one of the spare bedrooms for him. Your love goes beyond friendship, beyond the bounds of brotherhood. You love him and I know he loves you more than anything in this world for what you have done for him. You two are so special in your own ways. I can not think of you unless I think of Adam and I can not think of Adam without thinking of you. So, my beautiful boy, wipe away those tears and smile, let me see that sparkle in your eyes, those hazel eyes that for three generations have sparkled and looked upon some of the greatest times and events from the Battle of Waterloo and the defeat of the French to the Battle on Lexington Green and the Surrender of the British at Yorktown, and how can we forget the proud moment when your own grandfather stood with General Jackson and watched the British lay down their arms at New Orleans." John smiled and winked at the wave of bright red hair standing outside the library door and he nodded for Adam to enter. He noticed the red eyes from where Adam had listened to most of what had been said.
Adam walked through the door and smiled as he looked upon the sight of Johnny sitting on his father's knee. At the same time he felt the pain and hurt of not being able to remember one time being able to sit in his father's lap when he was just a child. Adam continued to walk and Johnny turned red at seeing Adam walking in the room, smiling at his lover sitting on his father's knee like a child. John motioned for him to come around the big desk and, with his free hand, took Adam's left and pulled the boy down on his other knee so that they were facing each other.
"My two sons, proud soldiers sitting on my old knees. I wonder what Captain Brooks would have to say about two of his best soldiers with tears in their eyes, sitting on an old man's lap, or Savvy Read. I better write a response to Captain Brown of the CSS ARKANSAS, saying please excuse the delay of my son's arrival. He had to spend time on his Papa's knee." John let out a hearty laugh as the two boys turned crimson in the face. He hugged the boys close. "Ah, stand up, my lads, these old knees can't take that much weight like they used to and what would Mother say if she saw you two in here on my knees like two mere boys. She would give you both chores to do and most likely would have you two in your room doing homework again." John let out another laugh as the boys stood and stretched. John pushed the big chair back and stood, then he slapped both boys on the back.
Johnny and Adam just looked at each other in silence for a moment. "Father, what do you mean, our arrival at the ARKANSAS? We're with Captain Brooks and the land batteries."
"Ah, my boys, if you wish to stay on land, sure, be my guest. I know that Savvy and Captain Brown will be disappointed that you did not accept his commissions as sailors on board his ship."
"Commissions in the NAVY?" both boys almost shouted at the same time.
John smiled, "Yes, my sons, commissions in the Confederate Navy. Here's Captain Brown's letter that arrived the other day from Yazoo City." John pulled the heavy piece of paper in which Captain Brown had written his plea for help and his desire to have the two boys become part of his crew off the desk and handed it to Johnny. Johnny scanned the letter and his face broke into a grin and that famous sparkle in his hazel eyes brightened. He showed Adam the letter before handing it back to his father. Johnny grabbed Adam and hugged him close. Gunners on the CSS ARKANSAS, now that had a ring to it. John smiled at the two boys' faces so close in their embrace that a light breeze would cause their lips to make contact.
"Boys, if you plan to kiss, please wait for your mother to leave the room and let me make a hasty departure for the kitchen for a cup of coffee." John laughed hard as the boys pulled back their faces, glowing red like the red hot fireboxes of a Mississippi River Packet boat.
Sarah smiled at her husband, "John, why do you do that to those handsome boys? I much wanted to see that kiss and compare it to ours when we were young and felt the fresh breath of love blowing on us every time we were close. Not that I am saying that fire has cooled down much over the years."
John smiled and pulled his wife close as Johnny and Adam stood in silence, looking at his parents and Adam's adoptive ones. John kissed his wife on the cheek. "Now see, my boys, that is not so bad and, like I said, we may be old but we're far from blind."
Sarah pulled back, "Old, old, you may be old but I am still young and pretty. You don't see any gray hair in my head, John Horatio Kingston!" She playfully slapped her husband on the arm.
Johnny and Adam were smiling. His parents were still in love with each other, more than any two people he had ever known.
"Pa, begging your pardon. Horatio is your middle name, was you named after Horatio Nelson the Admiral of the British fleet at Trafalgar in 1805 and if I remember correctly was killed there while commanding his gunners?"
John looked at his son and smiled. "Yes, my boy, the very one you just named and, Sarah, you're right, all that book learnin' paid off."
Sarah looked back at her husband, "John, it was you who told me that it would do no good to waste good money on that thick-headed boy. It was me who sent that boy to college in 1854. You just shook your head."
Adam giggled, "Thick-headed is right, when he made his mind up I don't think General Grant and his Yankee army has a chance on changing it." John and Sarah laughed at Adam's comment and Johnny looked at Adam. His eyes told the boy, 'I will get you back for that.'
"Now, now, boys, both of you are very smart young men and you're right, Sarah, who would have thought this thick-headed boy of ours would have graduated 5th in his class and would bring home another son for us to raise like our very own." Johnny smiled and Adam just looked at the other three people in the room.
"Oh, and by the way, when you to leave for Yazoo City I am going to have new ropes put on that bed, I am sure they are getting weak with all that use that they have gotten over the last few days. Mother and I do enjoy a good night's rest. Still we're not as young as you two are any more." John laughed deep and heartily as the crimson red shone in the faces of Johnny and Adam, the bright red that seemed to be commonplace any more when in the presence of John.
"John Kingston, will you give those boys some peace before their faces stay that color forever." Sarah smiled and walked over to her boys and hugged them close.
"Yes, mother. Come on, boys, let's go into the dining room for some coffee and a little bit of Irish Cheer for my new sailors." John wrapped his arm around Sarah's waist and motioned to the boys to come along. He looked back at the two boys and saw them walking side by side each other. He stopped "Wait a moment, Sarah. They can't share their love in public like we can so I have to make sure they know how to do it right while they're here." He took Johnny's right arm and wrapped it around Adam's thin waist and then took Adam's and put it around Johnny's, then he returned to Sarah and replaced his own hand. "Now, my boys, that is how you do it." He smiled and led the way out of the library to the large dining room.
They walked down the long hallway to the dining room, passing the busy house servants as they smiled and looked on. Johnny wondered 'was there anything secret in this family's mansion' but he knew the secret was safe. His parents would never say a word in public about it and the slaves held it in trust and fear of what might happen if they said anything and the word got out. They entered the cool dark dining room, the shutters still fastened tightly against the driving rain which still poured. John removed a glass globe from one of the oil lamps on the wall and pulled a match from his vest pocket and struck it and lit the wick to the lamp; the yellow flame burned brightly as John replaced the globe.
Momma Sallie, the large black cook, smiled as she entered the room. "Afternoon, madam and sirs. May I bring you something to eat or drink?"
"Yes, Sallie, bring us some of the special coffee."
"Yes sir, you want that special Irish blend. You also want the special liquor that goes with it?"
"Yes, Sallie, that is what we want, thank you."
"You most welcome, sir."
Sallie bustled out of the room, her homemade dress swishing around the large hips. She headed out the back door of the main house to the large brick and wood kitchen located behind the house proper. The wood covering over the brick walk kept off most of the heavy rain. She entered the large kitchen. Samson, her husband, sat at the large scarred cook's table where the chopping block sat and other items. She reached above her head and removed the blue coffee pot and walked over to the cistern pump and began to work the handle up and down to draw water from the well. She filled the pot and sat it on the stove while she reached into the cuboard for the bag of coffee beans. The amount needed was poured and then ground and added to the water in the pot on the huge wood-fired cook stove. She sat down at the big table.
"Samson, something's up with the master and his family. I never seen those two boys so happy. I saw them when they walking into the dining room, they arms were around each other's waist like they in love."
Samson looked up at Sallie. "Uhuh, whatever is going on is none of yo' business, woman. White folk business is they own and not ours to meddle in. Those boys are in love, anybody can see that, but they best be careful, there some bad folks out there and they would love to kill a set of white boys fo' lovin' each other like that. That village preacher man is one of them folks. You heard him preaching that fire and brimstone from that big leather Bible full of words that we have no idea what they mean." Samson paused to relight his corncob pipe. "Why you brewing that fancy coffee for? Sure they ain't 'specting visiters in this foul weather."
"Master John requested it and the special liquor he keeps locked away. I think it is for the boys, they supposed to be heading north to Yazoo City and manning them big guns on that iron boat."
"Them white folk are crazy. They know iron don't float but I don't put nothing against them. When people is warring against each other, you try anything to get ahead." Samson blew a ring of smoke into the air where it drifted up into the smokey rafters that held the large peaked roof.
"Yea, honey, I don't understand white folk and they ways sometimes." Sallie stood up and removed the coffee pot from the hot iron stove with a mittened hand, then she took it and strained the coffee and poured it into a large silver serving pot that sat on a large tray. She added the small sugar bowl that held the coarse brown sugar and a bowl of cream. Then she added four china mugs, each bearing the Kingston crest of crossed swords on a blue shield with a large scrolled K in the center.
Sallie picked up the tray and headed across the covered walkway back to the main house. The wind had calmed down and now just the rain continued to pour. Sallie entered through the screened door and passed through the small serving kitchen, a small room with a small cook stove that was used to keep food warm for guests and was used to pour and fix drinks while the guests were entertained in the rest of the large mansion. Sallie bustled back into the dining room where the four people were sitting and talking about events of the day. Sallie sat the heavy tray down and put a china cooling plate on the table and sat the silver coffee urn down, then she sat a china cup in front of each person, along with the bowls of sugar and cream. "Mr. John, the special liquor is locked up in the cabinet behind you, sir."
"Thank you, Sallie." John stood and removed a small key from his vest pocket and unlocked the glass-enclosed cabinet and removed a large decanter of dark brown whiskey. He sat it down in front of him.
Sallie started pouring coffee into the china mugs, then she sat the coffee urn down and left the room. She, like some of the other house servants, enjoyed listening to the white folk talk so she busied herself with dusting close to the hall entrance so she could overhear the talk.
John pulled the glass stopper from the decanter of whiskey and poured a strong helping in his mug and Johnny's and Adam's. Sarah added a light helping of cream and a several spoons of sugar and that was all for her.
John, still standing, raised his mug in the air and the others stood. "A toast to the finest lads in the Southern Army and my two sons."
"And to the CSS ARKANSAS!" added Adam.
They all took a sip of the strong hot coffee and sat back down.
"Nothing beats Irish coffee combined with Irish whiskey, but from what I have seen today I think one of us would disagree with me." John looked at Johnny and winked.
"Just what does that wink supposed to mean, John?"
"I am sure Johnny will agree with his father on this one. Irish coffee and whiskey is mighty fine combination but there's nothing like Irish cream." Johnny smiled and looked at Adam who just looked down into his cup. John laughed as Sarah covered her mouth.
"John Kingston, I think that kind of remark should be left in the bed chamber."
"Yes, you're right, my dear, it should be, but if that is what keeps the sparkle in those eyes of my son, then so be it. Like I told Johnny this morning with him sitting on my knee, that sparkle is special and I never want to see my son walk into my study so worried. Those hazel eyes looked almost black with worry."
"John, I do believe he is a little bit old to be sitting on your knee like he used to."
"My dear, I had both of them on my knees this morning, both of our sons. Tomorrow you boys will head north to Yazoo City. I will send 50 of our best slaves to help with construction, but I want a report first on what is needed." John sat his mug down on the table. "Three cups at one time is enough. I believe I will lay down for awhile and take a nap. Since with this rain I can do nothing else and I do not wish a noon meal today. Y'all may help yourselves but I need to cut back." He stood and clapped the boys on their backs and headed down the hallway, his heavy boots echoing on the hardwood floors.
"Well, my darlings, I am going to go sew for awhile. I got a special project I am working on and I would like to have it finished before you leave. I know I have a while before the ARKANSAS is ready to depart Yazoo, but still I want it perfect." Sarah stood up from her seat and kissed both boys on the cheek. Sarah slipped out of the room and down the hall.
Adam looked at Johnny and smiled. "I'm really that Irish?"
Johnny looked back at Adam. "Babe, you're my Wild Irish Boy and, yes, that flaming red hair gives you away." Johnny sat his cup down and stood up. He walked behind Adam's chair and wrapped his strong arms around him. "Come, my lovely lad, let's go check on Billy." Johnny helped Adam out of his chair and wrapped his arm around Adam's waist. They walked down the hall past Sallie who smiled at them and shook her head.
'Samson sho' was right, that boy is smitten but he is right tho', I better not say one word to anyone outside the house. Them field slaves would have it all over the place.' Sallie continued her dusting while the boys' footsteps faded in the distance and up the stairway.
They walked arm in arm down the cool dark 2nd story hall to Billy's room located in the middle of the floor and entered quietly. Billy was resting, lying on his back, his black hair fanned out against the snow white pillow. His eyes were closed, the soft lids and black eyelashes at ease, his chest rising slowly with each breath of air he took. The white gauze bandages covered his left side, but the smooth pale skin was exposed on the right, the brown nipple ringed by one or two black hairs surrounded by a sea of smooth white tight flesh. The thin cotton sheet was pulled up to the top of his groin. Johnny and Adam looked at their friend with loving slowness, soaking in the boy who would always hold a special place in their hearts. They walked quietly and softly to the sides of the bed. Adam had closed the door the minute they had entered the room. It was not time to change bandages or clean him up, this was their special time with their special friend, one who they both loved with more love and reverence than anyone else except for John and Sarah.
Johnny and Adam sat down on the big bed, the twin to the one in his own corner bedroom. Billy continued to sleep peacefully and quietly. Maybe the medicines were working, but they knew it was Billy's strong will to live that was doing the most healing. Billy's smooth youthful hands lay at his sides. They each took one in their hands and held it close. Johnny and Adam looked across the bed at each other, connected by Billy and the war, and everything else vanished from their minds except for the love they shared, the pain, and three beating hearts beating to the sound of love and friendship. A sound stronger than the beating drums of 1000's of armies.
Hello, Dear Readers, once again we're at Holloman House, doesn't it feel good to be back home? Now some things dear and deep to Johnny were brought out by his Father. Who is Jim? Why is Johnny so worried about Billy and Adam? Both parents now know of the love between our two boys and looks like they approve of it. So that is one less worry for us now, ain't it, or is it? Sallie, the black house servant, knows the secret; can she keep it quiet? Will she? We see how strong love can be when people love each other. But what lay ahead in Yazoo City and this Armored Ship, the CSS ARKANSAS?
So many unanswered questions and so little coffee. I must agree with Johnny's father, a good Irish Coffee with a double shot of Irish Whiskey does make a mighty fine drink. So in these early morning hours of December 1st, 2000, I raise my own mug to the boys in gray and to all the people who are reading this. THREE CHEERS for all that we do. THREE CHEERS for the ones we love the most - friends, family, boyfriends, and crushes. Now one last thing, A CHEER for ourselves for being proud of who we are! No matter what side of the Mason-Dixon Line you're on. No matter where in this great world. Stand up and be proud of where we came from and Who we are NOW!
As always, I love to hear from my readers, by E-mail which is still the same - Swarri1349@aol.com or an entry in my little guestbook on my website where there are many places to explore at http://swarri1349.tripod.com/
Check out the writings page located off the main page there. Just click the little black and white drawing of the flag and cannon where it says Idle thoughts and a few good words in between.
A Greatful thanks to the master Editor,Ed. Thank y'all Stephen