The Sentinels of Andersonville by Tracy Groot

Author:Tracy Groot
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: FICTION / Christian / Historical
ISBN: 9781414388991
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Published: 2014-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

12

TALK IN THE SENTINELS’ BOOTH had taken a philosophical turn, as things often did when answers could not be had. Instead of speculating on the missing Reverend Gillette, the three men packed snug at the rail spoke of the war and of Andersonville.

“We all thought Jeff Davis was our man,” said Emery.

“Yep,” said Burr. “Him or Cobb.”

“You can’t shake the feeling that something went terribly wrong at the breaking of the nation,” said Dance.

“No matter what reasons we had for leaving, we should’ve stayed. That’s what my uncle says. The rending ought not’ve come. But it did. We got a divorce.”

“All became different and difficult and wrong and hasn’t stopped being that way,” said Dance. “And now, this. Anomalies like Andersonville sprang from the breaking of the nation.”

“We strayed into territory unknown, and we are not yet quit of it,” Burr murmured. Dance glanced at him, and Burr spit. “You gonna put that in your scrip?”

Dance smiled faintly. “I might.” He remembered when the slopes before him were empty and green. Now, not a blade of vegetation remained in twenty-six acres. It was either trampled or eaten. He had better shelter than they, this open-air affair that kept off sun and rain.

“I wish I could explain this place for the meeting,” Emery said.

“I have visited every word I know,” Dance said. “Nothing pins it down. I’ve brought it to this, that if hell is a province or a state or a country, Andersonville is a town in it.”

“Pickett, I been thinkin’ on somethin’,” said Burr. “Why don’t you get your daddy out here? Then maybe he could get Joe Brown to come on down. I don’t think old J. B. would put up with this if he saw it.”

“He doesn’t have as much sway with Joe Brown as he believes. And he won’t come. I have written four times asking him to, and four times I have received a similar reply: ‘I will not shed a tear for a Yank. You are too soft, Son. If it’s bad as you say, and you are given to embellishment, what have you done to change things?’—his hale and hearty answer for all.” His voice lowered. “He’d deny this place even as he looked on it, for he’d never believe it of our fair Confederacy and never understand the bureaucracy that got it this way. Much as I hate that bluff and bluster, the thought of extinguishing it is . . . Andersonville would crush the old man. That, I cannot bear.”

The three thought on this.

“Well, the sun is about to set, and I never thought the day would end like this. I pictured triumph.” Emery pushed away from the rail.

Dance turned. “What are you going to do?”

He paused. “You know what? For the first time in my life, I do not know.” He went down the ladder.

—

“He’s getting worse.” Andy put his hand on Harris’s forehead. “He’s awful feverish, and that ain’t the heat. I ain’t seen him eat, Lew. Have you?”

“No.”

“Have you seen him drink?”

“No.

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