The Truce by Angie Smibert

Author:Angie Smibert [Smibert, Angie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Astra Publishing House
Published: 2020-05-26T00:00:00+00:00

THE WORLD SWIRLED AROUND BONE as the pallbearers carried the coffin slowly up to the front of the church. Mamaw grabbed her elbow in a viselike grip. She stood straight as a poplar tree, only swaying ever so slightly in the breeze. Bone felt instantly grounded. She clutched the poetry book in front of her, the dog tag pressed between its pages like a flower. Even through her white gloves, she could feel the turmoil in the objects.

“It ain’t him,” Bone whispered to Mamaw.

Mamaw gave her elbow a tiny squeeze and let her go. “You saw something else?” she asked in a hushed voice.

Bone nodded. “It doesn’t all make sense, though.” She’d lain awake trying to fit the puzzle pieces together—and not all of them fit. Uncle Ash had worn that dog tag—at least up to some point in the Great War. Then the memories became different. She’d seen the woman, the black dogs, one baby, and then another. She’d seen him hunched over a table, pen in one hand, T-shaped ruler in the other, losing himself in sketching plans for a thirty-story building. Definitely not Uncle Ash. Bone still couldn’t untangle all of the memories—or make sense of the very last ones, except to be sure the man wearing the tags had gotten clobbered under the tipple. Right on that spot the devil dog appeared. And then he was dragged down into the mine. Alive. And he was trapped, like he had been all those years ago, drowning in the darkness.

Bone shuddered. It was closing in on her, too, fixing to squeeze the life out of her.

The pallbearers gently set the box down in front of the pulpit. Uncle Junior, Uncle Henry’s brother, cousin Ivy’s husband, and several of Uncle Ash’s friends and customers returned to their seats, heads bowed. They filed past, caps in hand, nodding to Mamaw and Bone. Uncle Junior straightened the coffin, and then slipped into the pew next to Bone. Ruby and Mattie, Bone finally noticed, were sitting on the opposite side of the aisle—with the Matthews family.

Bone nudged Mamaw and glared in Aunt Mattie’s direction. Mamaw arched an eyebrow at her daughter but didn’t say a word.

The service went by in a blur. The new preacher, Mr. Stewart, said some words about Uncle Ash’s service in the Great War. The new man had come in early to perform the service. His family was still back in Norfolk packing up their belongings to move into the parsonage next month.

“I wrote to the army to get Mr. Reed’s service record,” the preacher said. He pulled out a letter and began reading from it. “ ‘Sergeant Ash Reed volunteered in 1914, enlisting in the Canadian Expeditionary Forces. He served with distinction in the Ninety-Seventh battalion in France and Belgium. When the US entered the war in 1917, the battalion was transferred to General “Black Jack” Pershing’s forces. Sergeant Reed was cited for bravery under fire on no less than three occasions, including a silver star when he

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