Yalie for godsakes, blue skies fishing the Charles from over on the Cambridge side. But all that came to me instead were images from the Mexican campaign, the twisted broken bodies and hacked limbs foul and wet and pustulent with gangrene, heads cannon-shot five feet away from the bodies they belonged to and the shrieking of the newly wounded and long last sighs of the dying.
An hour is quite some time to wait.
And it was almost that long before I heard her say, they're coming .
Mother had not been asleep of course. Or if he was, deserted it as quickly as an eagle deserts its eyrie on sighting its prey below. At the sound of her voice he was up off the bed and flanking the door across from Hart and once again I was aware of the ease and grace of the man despite his huge size. Hart turned to Elena.
"The back door's where?"
"Straight down the hall to the right."
"You still see your sister out there?"
She nodded. "All of them. They're in one group now. Hobbled together."
"Men around her?"
"Just two."
"Good. When it starts, go out the back, get her and bring her round to the horses. These boys will want to get inside. We'll give 'em reason not to for a time. Then we'll follow you. You need any help?"
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
"You ever shoot a man, Bell?"
"You're going to now. And I'm figuring it'll be mostly buyers in there and most of them'll be unarmed. You don't let that stop you, you hear me?"
I hesitated, then nodded.
"Hell, look at it this way," said Mother. "Suzie's got a tick? It's feeding off her blood? You take it 'tween thumb and forefinger. Then you squeeze. May not be pretty but that's what you do. It's the horse that's of consequence, not the goddamn tick."
"Our aim's to clear the room, Bell. That simple. Nobody stands but us when it's finished. That, and to watch each other's backs. Let's do it."
I did not truly know war.
I knew it only by only its consequences. But as we walked the stairs, Hart and Mother in front and Elena and I behind, I felt what I imagine any soldier must feel who though not yet having engaged in battle is not wholly ignorant of those consequences. Fear, yes, of course fear. A clear ringing signal from mind to body that quickens the heartbeat, deadens the legs and thickens and dries the throat so that it was nearly impossible to swallow. Of course fear. But also a hammering dread, a great overwhelming reluctance . I was about to risk my life for the single awful purpose of taking the lives of others — and as many lives as possible. And what sane man would wish to do either.
Our aim's to clear the room, Bell .
I long ago knew that war was insanity.
What I did not know was the exact nature of how that insanity was made manifest in a single soul.
For a moment it seemed incredible to me that I should even be here.
That feeling of displacement grew with each step I took to the extent that I could only dimly register the laughter and talk coming from the room we were approaching below and smell the cigar smoke until finally we reached the landing and the open wide double doors and Hart and Mother stepped inside and raised their rifles to astonished faces all around and I stood at Mother's side with Elena to the right and then the feeling fled like a dove from a flame as we began firing.
I saw the fat woman Lucia go down like a toppled sack of grain with a bullet from Elena's rifle before I had even sighted and pulled the trigger on the bearded Mexican in the tailored suit directly in front of me. His move for cover came too late. My bullet caught him in the chest.
I did not then think I have killed, I have just killed a human being . I doubt I thought anything. It was as unconsidered a response as a cat lashing out after a mouse in front of him scurrying across the floor. I just kept shooting.
There were shouts and men screaming and in that enclosed space the deafening staccato bursts of rifles and I was aware that while Hart had been correct, that most of these men were
An hour is quite some time to wait.
And it was almost that long before I heard her say, they're coming .
Mother had not been asleep of course. Or if he was, deserted it as quickly as an eagle deserts its eyrie on sighting its prey below. At the sound of her voice he was up off the bed and flanking the door across from Hart and once again I was aware of the ease and grace of the man despite his huge size. Hart turned to Elena.
"The back door's where?"
"Straight down the hall to the right."
"You still see your sister out there?"
She nodded. "All of them. They're in one group now. Hobbled together."
"Men around her?"
"Just two."
"Good. When it starts, go out the back, get her and bring her round to the horses. These boys will want to get inside. We'll give 'em reason not to for a time. Then we'll follow you. You need any help?"
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
"You ever shoot a man, Bell?"
"You're going to now. And I'm figuring it'll be mostly buyers in there and most of them'll be unarmed. You don't let that stop you, you hear me?"
I hesitated, then nodded.
"Hell, look at it this way," said Mother. "Suzie's got a tick? It's feeding off her blood? You take it 'tween thumb and forefinger. Then you squeeze. May not be pretty but that's what you do. It's the horse that's of consequence, not the goddamn tick."
"Our aim's to clear the room, Bell. That simple. Nobody stands but us when it's finished. That, and to watch each other's backs. Let's do it."
I did not truly know war.
I knew it only by only its consequences. But as we walked the stairs, Hart and Mother in front and Elena and I behind, I felt what I imagine any soldier must feel who though not yet having engaged in battle is not wholly ignorant of those consequences. Fear, yes, of course fear. A clear ringing signal from mind to body that quickens the heartbeat, deadens the legs and thickens and dries the throat so that it was nearly impossible to swallow. Of course fear. But also a hammering dread, a great overwhelming reluctance . I was about to risk my life for the single awful purpose of taking the lives of others — and as many lives as possible. And what sane man would wish to do either.
Our aim's to clear the room, Bell .
I long ago knew that war was insanity.
What I did not know was the exact nature of how that insanity was made manifest in a single soul.
For a moment it seemed incredible to me that I should even be here.
That feeling of displacement grew with each step I took to the extent that I could only dimly register the laughter and talk coming from the room we were approaching below and smell the cigar smoke until finally we reached the landing and the open wide double doors and Hart and Mother stepped inside and raised their rifles to astonished faces all around and I stood at Mother's side with Elena to the right and then the feeling fled like a dove from a flame as we began firing.
I saw the fat woman Lucia go down like a toppled sack of grain with a bullet from Elena's rifle before I had even sighted and pulled the trigger on the bearded Mexican in the tailored suit directly in front of me. His move for cover came too late. My bullet caught him in the chest.
I did not then think I have killed, I have just killed a human being . I doubt I thought anything. It was as unconsidered a response as a cat lashing out after a mouse in front of him scurrying across the floor. I just kept shooting.
There were shouts and men screaming and in that enclosed space the deafening staccato bursts of rifles and I was aware that while Hart had been correct, that most of these men were
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