Destination Hope - Book 5 - Reconciliation - Chapter 16

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

I wanted to say, "Happy Thanksgiving," to all my readers because I know the radical left wants to remove it from our American traditions. I am thankful that God helped a courageous man, Christopher Columbus, find this continent in 1492, a handful of survivors at Plymouth Rock established the first thanksgiving with their Indian neighbors 129 years later, President George Washington called the new nation to set aside this day to thank God for creating America 168 years later, and four-score and seven years thereafter, President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed Thanksgiving a national holiday (worth reading). Today, I pray that God Almighty again extends his grace and blessing to this once thoroughly God fearing nation and by His kindness, brings millions to repentance for the advancement of His Kingdom to the glory of God. Amen.

For new readers to this story, I linked Chapter 1. Chapters 2 - 4 are linked under September, 5 - 10 under October, and 11 - 15 under November.

Oh, and since this chapter has a celebration and food in it, it seemed fitting and proper to present it on Thanksgiving Day. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Destination Hope – Book 5 – Reconciliation

A Novel By:

Charles J. Patricoff

Copyright © 2014 by Charles J. Patricoff. All rights reserved.

Chapter 16

Homeward Bound

Six weeks later on a Sunday afternoon, The Illinois Street Church held a reception for the happy couple and the new arrival. Word spread throughout the community of Eleanor’s dramatic near delivery in Mrs. DéJordano’s restaurant’s kitchen. Rumors abounded as to what took place that wild and crazy night. Many partygoers professed eye witness accounts even if they did not happen to patronize the eating establishment the night William entered the world.

Nathaniel and Eleanor made several new friends in this short expanse of time. The church grounds filled with horses and wagons, tables decked with assorted baked breads, cakes and pies, flame-broiled meats, and well-wishers. Of all the church members’ best dishes, Eleanor insisted her husband try the dish she longed for all these days since William’s birth.

“I’m so glad you could join us, Mrs. DéJordano.” Eleanor’s smile welcomed her warmly. “I’ve told my husband how much I loved your restaurant and that incredible, delicious dish you prepared.”

“Why that is very kind, Mrs. Graham. But I’m sorry, I don’t remember what you had for dinner that night.” Mrs. DéJordano rolled her eyes. “We were a little distracted by your bundle of joy.” She reached for William. “May I hold him?”

Eleanor uncovered William’s face. His eyes clenched tight against the fall-solstice sunshine. He squeaked as Eleanor adjusted her hold, handing her son to the woman who helped usher William into the world. “Here he is.”

Accepting the priceless package, Mrs. DéJordano commented, “He’s a cute one. He seems to favor you much more than your husband.” She rocked the baby in her arms. “He doesn’t seem to have any trouble eating, either.” She fixed her eyes on the baby’s clear, blue eyes, “You’re a big boy, aren’t you?”

William made some other indeterminate noises, as Eleanor changed the subject. “I had your, Roberto’s Special, that night. I simply can’t wait to try it again.”

Mrs. DéJordano swiveled toward Eleanor. “You don’t say? Well, my dear, it just so happens, you’re in luck. I brought a large pan of, Roberto’s Special with me. I don’t know if it will be as good because I’m sure it’s cooled by now. But,” she handed little William back to Eleanor, “can I fix you a plate?”

Eleanor took William and smiled at him. “If it is not too much trouble, yes. And could you fix one for my husband, as well?”

Mrs. DéJordano swiveled and stepped toward the food line. She announced over her shoulder, “Already thought of Mr. Graham. I’ll be right back, if there’s any left.” She extended both arms like wings, palms up.

“Oh, I do hope there is plenty.” Mrs. Emma Moody joined the conversation. She held her daughter and said, “I hate the fact this will be our last social for a long time…maybe never again this side of glory.”

Eleanor examined her friend’s red, swollen eyes. Then clasped Emma’s left upper arm. She offered a sympathetic smile. “Em, don’t. We’ve been all over this.”

Emma sighed as she looked from William to Little Emma. “But I hoped they’d grow up together.”

“I know, and I thought about it myself. But we have to go.”

“There’s nothing that can change his mind?”

“He’s convinced God has called him to serve there, so no.”

Emma hung her head.

Eleanor looked beyond her friend. “You need to put a smile on your face. Our husbands are coming this way.”

Emma wiped her eyes with her extended fingers. Her eyelashes fluttered. She lifted her gaze and searched Eleanor’s eyes. “How do I look?”

Eleanor wrinkled her nose. “Presentable.”

“Are my eyes red?”

“A little, but even if they notice, I doubt either one of them will ask.”

“You’ve got them figured out pretty good, don’t you?”

“I grew up with two brothers. Men are rather simple creatures.”

Emma chuckled.

Eleanor said, “Speaking of simple, here comes Mrs. DéJordano. Let’s see how Roberto’s Special motivates them.”

“Thank you,” Emma mouthed. She winked.

Eleanor caught Mrs. Moody’s unspoken meaning and joined the pretended joy.

“You two seem to be having a good time,” Reverend Moody waved as if to say, “We’re here.”

Eleanor leaned to her right and peered around Emma’s shorter head. “Oh hello…” She smirked. “…gentlemen.” She glanced to Emma. “Look who’s here, Em.”

Mrs. Emma Moody grinned and swiveled toward her husband. “I wondered when you’d come by to see about your wife and daughter, Reverend Moody.”

“I do apologize, Mrs. Moody, but our Southern friend,” Reverend Moody cocked his head in Nathaniel’s direction, “is bit of a novelty with our church members. Many seem curious about life below the Mason-Dixon Line.”

Eleanor’s curiosity aroused, too. “What kind of questions were they asking you, my husband?”

Nathaniel’s eyes fixed on his wife, and after a second he looked to Reverend Moody, who offered a single nod. “Well sweetheart, they all wanted to know if I owned slaves.”

Eleanor guffawed. “You’re funning us, right?”

Mrs. Moody snorted. “Can you believe their ignorance?”

Reverend Moody dropped his chin and shook his head.

Eleanor had to know. “What did you tell them?”

“I told them that I never owned slaves, never wanted to. I’ve become fully persuaded that true liberty can only be found in a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, that as His followers, since He has set me free from the law of sin and death, how could I, in good conscience, hold another believer in bondage?”

“That usually stops people from any further questions,” Reverend Moody interjected.

Eleanor stepped back. “I can’t believe you’d be that direct.”

“Why not? It’s the truth.”

Eleanor wagged her head. “I don’t know, husband. I’m not sure…”

“Okay, Mr. Graham, Mrs. Graham,” Mrs. DéJordano interrupted. “I have Roberto’s Special here for you.” When Nathaniel looked confused, she said, “Mrs. Graham asked me to have you try one of my restaurant’s specialties.” She offered Nathaniel a plate.

Nathaniel glanced at Eleanor.

She recognized his need for assurance. “It’s okay, dear.”

Nathaniel rubbed his expanded stomach. “I’ve eaten so much already.” His nose flared. “But that does smell,” he sniffed the plate almost like a Bloodhound, “really good.” He took a walnut-size bite. His eyes widened, then, closed. His jaw shifted. He hummed. His lips smacked. He almost slammed another fork full into his mouth. More groans of pleasure emanated. Then he spoke through a half-filled mouth. “This is incredible. I’ve never tasted anything like it.” He looked at his happy bride. “What did you call this?”

Eleanor laughed with glee. “Mrs. DéJordano calls it Roberto’s Special.”

Nathaniel swallowed and stabbed another hunk of the never before discovered pasta dish. Before he stuffed it into his gaping, expectant mouth, he said, “This is so good. I hate to say this, but this,” he pointed with his little finger while holding the fork level, “dish could keep me here in Chicago.”

Mrs. DéJordano beamed with pride. Mrs. Emma Moody faced Eleanor grinning from ear-to-ear. Eleanor’s jaw dropped. Is he joking?

The early evening heat tortured man, beast, and vegetation. Even air refused to move. A late day shower would be welcomed by all, but the cloud cover teased at relief. The farm land south of Chicago chattered with the clatter of fanning cicadas, flapping grasshoppers, and chirping crickets attempting to cool themselves against the life draining temperature. Crows clamored above the constant buzzing. The ground resting between the metal rods began to shake. The bed of rocks began to rattle, and a regular, pulsating, chugging came from the north. A minute later, a black, smoke-belching, iron monster appeared smashing anything in its path, drowning out all of nature’s melodies.

The six o’clock, southbound, Illinois-Central train from Chicago would make planned stops at Champaign and Effingham in-route to Cairo. On board one of the railroad's newest accommodations, the open section car, travelers rocked along the rails, attempting to cool themselves with what they could: hats, newspapers, or letter envelopes. At least the open car windows provided some air flow for the perspiring passengers.

“I am so glad we are finally on our way.” Nathaniel leaned against the shoulder-high bench seat running in line with the car’s length. He crossed his legs, taking advantage of the wider aisles. He twisted his head in Eleanor’s direction and asked, “How’s the baby doing?”

Eleanor ceased blowing on William’s forehead but kept her ever-evaluating eyes focused on his sleeping face as she answered, “He seems to be doing fine, for now. I think the motion has helped him fall asleep.”

“Speaking of sleep, it will be dark in about an hour.” Nathaniel surveyed the new sleeper car and suggested, “My guess the upper berth might be best.”

Eleanor glanced upward then back to her baby “I don’t know. It looks like it might shake more than this seat. If you want to sleep up there, you’re welcome to it.”

Nathaniel reassessed. “Then again, you might have a touch more room if you and the baby slept at the window level. It’s a touch wider.”

“I think we’ll be quite comfortable down here.” Eleanor spoke to waking William, “Yes, we’ll be quite comfortable down here. Your daddy can figure out where he’ll sleep just as long as he doesn’t bother us.” William stretched, stuck out his tongue, and opened his eyes. Eleanor responded for him in a childish tone: “That’s right, mamma. I don’t want to be disturbed on my first train ride.”

Nathaniel smiled. He enjoyed the way Eleanor took to motherhood. “Okay then, it’s settled. I’ll take the middle and you two will sleep on the bottom bunk.”

Eleanor’s tone changed. “When do you think, they’ll change the car into the sleeping configuration.”

“I don’t know for sure, but we’ll be stopping in Champaign, Illinois sometime around ten. I’d think they’d transition the sleeper cars then.”

“We should plan on it.” Eleanor stared at the overhead storage, which would convert to the top berth. “Dear, could you get the baby’s bag down for me?” She shifted her gaze back to William and in a breathy-elevated pitch said, “Somebody has a messy bottom.”

Nathaniel offered a simple affirmative grunt in reply, rose to his feet and retrieved the requested necessity. As he set the bag into the seat he had vacated, he said, “That’s one heavy bag. What all did you pack in there?”

“Not much. Just enough to get us by for five days.”

“Five? Why five?”

Eleanor looked up at her husband with a facial expression that spoke volumes. She tilted her head and then gave it a slow shake.

This is a new look. Something tells me I better keep my mouth shut. Nathaniel held his tongue.

“I know you said the whole trip will take three days, but I don’t want to be caught without supplies just in case.”

What little God-given wisdom Nathaniel internalized, he tossed it aside. “In case of what?”

Nathaniel noted “The Look,”again.

Eleanor returned her attention to William as she extracted a clean diaper from the bag. Speaking in her squeaky voice, she said, “Sometimes, I think your smart father is not too bright. What if the boat is late arriving in Cairo and we have to stay an extra night or two.”

Little William kicked his legs, jerked his arms, and squealed, too.

“We don’t want to unpack the trunk, now do we?” With a mother’s gentleness, Eleanor squeezed William’s left hand and gave the tiny balled fist a kiss.

Nathaniel continued to brace himself from falling in the aisle as he confessed, “I didn’t think about that.”

“And what if it takes longer than advertised for us to reach Memphis?”

Nathaniel said, “Okay, okay, now you’ve got me worried that I packed too light.”

“Maybe one day you’ll listen to me. I’m not your enemy, my husband.  I’m your staunchest ally.”

“I suppose I have much to learn.”

Eleanor held up the freshened William who stuck his kissed fist in his mouth. With her improving infant speech, Eleanor said, “We both do.”

Nathaniel could not tell if she referred to him and William, or…I best not ask.

As speculated, the stop in Champaign, Illinois provided ample time to take advantage of the station’s facilities, grab a quick bite to eat, and prepare for the night’s repose while the train’s service employees converted the sleeper cars from sitting to reclining. Thick, dark-green curtains surrounded each cot-size rest area providing a smidgen of personal privacy.

The Graham family had just reached their appointed stalls when the train rolled out of Champaign. Nathaniel helped Eleanor and William attempt to find comfort in their cramped space. “Are you sure you and William will be all right here?”

“If not, I’m sure you’ll hear about it.” She tilted her head toward William.

Nathaniel forced a smile. I hope he doesn’t wake the other passengers. “What can I do?”

Eleanor tugged on her husband’s tie and pulled him close. “You can give me a kiss goodnight and stop worrying so much.”

Nathaniel grinned, leaned into the tiny space. “It will be my pleasure.”

They held their kiss, maybe a few seconds beyond public propriety. After they released, Nathaniel gave a quick kiss to William’s forehead. Eleanor’s countenance radiated joy.

“Goodnight,” Nathaniel said as ordered and added, “At least when we take the steamboat to Memphis, we’ll have a private cabin.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Mr. Graham.” She winked and finished, “Go on husband. Try and get some sleep. I’m sure the rocking motion will help this one rest through the night.”

Nathaniel’s smile broadened. He repeated his goodnight wishes, adjusted the curtain and climbed into the bunk maybe eighteen inches above his bride and son. Settling on his back, he tried to quiet his mind. I doubt I’ll get much sleep tonight. Although, this is much more comfortable then the cot I had in prison. He rolled on to his right side and let his left hand dangle, reaching into Eleanor’s compartment to feel closer to her. After a few minutes of listening to the train’s steel wheels clank across the rail joints, he felt Eleanor squeeze his hand. Not long after, he drifted off to sleep.

The rest of the trip, like the initial leg, proved uneventful. As Eleanor predicted, the Steamship to Memphis, Tennessee from Cairo, Illinois arrived a half-day late. The little family took advantage of their additional free time to tour the river-town of Cairo. Nathaniel made several comments regarding all the building and home construction. Both were impressed with a beautiful new dwelling commissioned by Captain William P. Halliday. “The Federal government must have paid its officers quite well,” Nathaniel said as the couple admired the eleven-room, brick house.

Eleanor said, “He might have been a navy captain. I understand their rank is equal to a full colonel in the army.”

They were both wrong. He was a steamship captain and local banker, who managed to earn a lucrative living from river transportation on the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers.

When they arrived in Memphis, Nathaniel noted that it was a hub for slave trafficking and that he should have made the connection—two, southern-sympathizing, river-port towns adopted names after Egyptian cities. He made an illogical conclusion, No wonder we lost the war.

The train from Memphis to Nashville consumed another half-day. Now, suffering from the strain of modern travel, the exhausted family approached Franklin, Tennessee. Several times, Nathaniel expressed his gratitude for this short-train ride from Nashville, to their final destination. He smiled as he said, “Sweetheart, you’ve done a wonderful job with William. He’s hardly been a burden the entire trip.”

“That’s because you’re a good boy, aren’t you, William? Not like your father.”

Once again, Nathaniel was confused. Does she mean me? This time he had to ask. He pointed to his chest. “Do you mean…?” 

“What do you think?” Eleanor bounced little William on her knee.

Nathaniel swiveled his head and stared out the car window across the aisle from his seat. I don’t know. He decided to use his one proven skill. He changed the subject. “I sure hope Miss Peterson got our wire.”

“I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“It’ll be a long walk if she didn’t.”

“You’re smart. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

I think she’s talking about me.

The train slowed and rumbled into the reconstructing Franklin Station. Nathaniel’s jaw dropped. The town looked worse than he imagined. All this from one day’s fighting.

Eleanor provided a voice for his jumbled thoughts. “It looks like Gettysburg when I first arrived.” She addressed little William. “That’s where I met your father.”

Nathaniel recalled their happy times strolling the college campus grounds northwest of Gettysburg, playing fetch with Bailey, and growing their enduring friendship and at last, their love. I wonder how Bailey’s doing in his crate. I bet he’ll be happy to be free, too. But also, he recalled, Gettysburg was such a broken and blighted place. I wonder how long Franklin will suffer.

The train jerked and then, halted. Nathaniel’s eye caught a familiar face. He straightened. “There she is.”

It took Nathaniel a little while to load all of the family luggage and trunks onto the Peterson family’s wagon. Panting, Bailey took a position on top of the load. Nathaniel helped Eleanor settle with the baby into the rear bench seat. “Is everyone ready to go home?”

Eleanor smiled. “I can’t wait to see it.”

Miss Peterson offered the reins to Nathaniel. He accepted and, after releasing the brake, they rolled through the town. Eleanor and Miss Pearl Peterson engaged in greeting small-talk. “We can’t thank you enough for picking us up at the station, Miss Peterson.”

“Think nothing of it, Pastor Graham, Mrs. Graham.” Miss Peterson looked at Eleanor. “I wanted to see your face when you see your new home. Some say the Graham farm is the best ground in the county.”

Nathaniel interrupted. “How’s the town doing?”

Miss Peterson shook her head. “Not good, Pastor. We lost so many of our men in the fighting south of town. Worse, we sorely lack good leadership.”

“I heard about John Carter.”

Miss Peterson continued. “So much needs repair. No one seems to know where to begin.  Worse, we have so few resources.” She shifted in her seat “I know I’m speaking for more than just myself when I say the folks around here are glad you’ve come home, Pastor.”

“We’ll do what we can.”

“Yes, Miss Peterson, you can count on us to help,” Eleanor said warmly.

Miss Peterson swiveled on the front bench and looked down at the new resident. “I don’t mean no disrespect, Mrs. Graham, but many don’t want no help from any Yankee.”

Nathaniel closed his eyes. His jaw tightened. I must defend her.  “Miss Peterson, I’m confident once the people get to know Eleanor for the woman I know she is, they’ll change their minds about accepting assistance from her.”

“I don’t know, Pastor,” Miss Peterson said. “There are some who will hate her despite her good will.”

Eleanor said, “I expected as much, Miss Peterson, and I still chose to follow my husband, no matter what the cost.”

Miss Peterson’s eyebrows rose for an instant. “Well, I’ll be, Pastor. You might be right.”

Nathaniel grinned. “You’ll see.”

Leaving the war-torn town behind, they traveled along Mount Hope Road. They crested the hill above the Graham farm and Nathaniel’s old familiar place came into view in time to watch a raccoon climb through a hole in the house’s roof.

“Oh my,” Eleanor said.

Nathaniel stated the obvious. “Looks like we’ve got a lot of work to do here, too.”

“I’m sorry, Pastor, that your place is so run down.” She looked behind at Eleanor. “Miss Guthrie…Marah…was my best friend.”

“Mr. Graham told me.” Eleanor closed with a soft, kind smile.

Miss Pearl Peterson continued. “Well, Miss Guthrie did a good and faithful job of keeping your property sound, but…” She wiped her eyes with her gloved hand. “…she hasn’t been heard from since the day before the battle. I warned her not to get involved.” She threw her hands to her face. Her body heaved. “I’m afraid she’s…”

Nathaniel had to know. “She’s what?”

Through her sobs, Miss Peterson said, “I fear she’s buried in one of the mass graves interring hundreds of unknown soldiers.”  She gasped. “I don’t know if she made it to heaven. She never told me if she ever accepted Christ as her personal savior.”

Nathaniel brought the wagon to a stop in front of the broken house. He wagged his head. How many more lives, Lord. Did I cause this loss, too?  He offered a weak “I’m sorry.” I never discussed her eternal condition with her.

Rubbing her forehead, Miss Peterson searched Nathaniel’s eyes. “You must-a-known, Pastor—was she born again?” Without waiting for an answer, she said, “You know she took care of this place because she loved you.”

Nathaniel sat up and took a deep breath. I’m sorry, Lord.  Falling on his natural tendency to avoid confronting Pearl’s question, Nathaniel swiveled so he could command Bailey, “Come on, Bailey boy. We’ve got a varmint to chase.”

Thanks for reading. If you like where the story is going, please leave me a comment.

Again, HAPPY THANKSGIVING (my personal favorite national holiday).