realized that he was lying flat on his back.
“Get up, Drake.”
Rosie stood over him, looking down at his skinned knuckles. “Any time you’re ready to go apologize to Charlie, I’m willin’ to stop.”
Drake struggled to his feet. His face ached, and his ribs, yet he knew that he would never give up. He threw himself at Rosie again. The soldiers had made a ring about them, and repeatedly Rosie knocked Drake back into one of them, who would then shove him forward.
For Drake, time seemed to stand still. Finally he was on the ground and discovered that he could not get up. “My—legs won’t work,” he panted. “My blasted legs won’t work. Wait a minute, and I’ll fight you, Rosie …”
Rosie looked down at him. “You and me been friends for a long time, but I don’t need a friend like you, Drake. Any man that would treat a woman like you treated Charlie, no amount of beatin’s gonna help. Because your meanness,” he said evenly, “ain’t on the outside. It’s on the inside! I always knew somethin’ was wrong with you, and now I know that’s it. Don’t ever come at me to speak again, because I’m through with you!”
As Rosie turned around and walked off, rather unsteadily, Drake struggled to a sitting position, then to his feet. His eyes were swelling. One was closed completely. His uniform was torn, his fists were scraped, he could taste blood, and he hurt all over.
But what hurt worst of all was seeing Rosie disappear. Drake looked around and saw no friendship on the faces of his fellow soldiers. They all turned then and walked away from him, leaving him standing alone.
Drake staggered to the pump and washed his face. He looked down at his ripped, dirty uniform and then reeled away from the parade ground. He took the road that led to the woods just outsideAtlanta. Every step jolted his bruised body, and all he could think was,
I got to get away. I can’t stand this anymore!
11
A New Man
R oyal met Rosie heading toward his tent, and one look at his bloodied face told the story. “Did you have it out with Drake?”
“Yes, I did, but I don’t feel good about it.” Rosie stood looking at the ground. “He’s been my best friend for a long time, Royal.”
“I know. It’s hard to fight with a friend.”
“I reckon it is.”
“Where is he now?”
“Headed out somewhere. You better go catch him, Royal. He might desert, and the general would have him shot sure.”
“I think you’re right. Why don’t you clean yourself up? I’m sorry this had to happen.”
Royal broke into a run. Ahead he saw Drake, walking blindly along the line of tents and apparently headed for the woods.
“Drake!” he called out. “Wait a minute!” He caught up with the private and put himself directly in front of him. “Where are you going?”
“What difference does it make?”
“It makes a lot of difference if you get posted as a deserter!” Royal said. “You know what the general would do to you then.”
“He’d have to catch me first!”
“That wouldn’t be too hard to do. Look, we all make mistakes from time to time. We all have to learn how to say we’re sorry.”
“Is that what you want me to do? Come crawlin’ back and say I’m sorry?”
“Not to me. To Charlie.”
Drake hesitated, as though considering doing exactly what Royal was suggesting. But then he shook his head stubbornly. “I’ll write her a letter sometime.”
“Drake, I’m going tell you something else.” Royal waited until Drake’s eyes were fixed on him. “I’ve asked Lori to marry me, and she said that she would. I wanted you to hear it from me, not from somebody else.”
At first Royal thought Drake would throw himself at him, and he stiffened, waiting for the charge.
But the fire in Drake’s eyes died, and he took a deep breath. “Well, that makes you happy, doesn’t it? You beat me out.”
“No, beating you doesn’t make me happy. I know what it’s like to lose something you love. One of us
“Get up, Drake.”
Rosie stood over him, looking down at his skinned knuckles. “Any time you’re ready to go apologize to Charlie, I’m willin’ to stop.”
Drake struggled to his feet. His face ached, and his ribs, yet he knew that he would never give up. He threw himself at Rosie again. The soldiers had made a ring about them, and repeatedly Rosie knocked Drake back into one of them, who would then shove him forward.
For Drake, time seemed to stand still. Finally he was on the ground and discovered that he could not get up. “My—legs won’t work,” he panted. “My blasted legs won’t work. Wait a minute, and I’ll fight you, Rosie …”
Rosie looked down at him. “You and me been friends for a long time, but I don’t need a friend like you, Drake. Any man that would treat a woman like you treated Charlie, no amount of beatin’s gonna help. Because your meanness,” he said evenly, “ain’t on the outside. It’s on the inside! I always knew somethin’ was wrong with you, and now I know that’s it. Don’t ever come at me to speak again, because I’m through with you!”
As Rosie turned around and walked off, rather unsteadily, Drake struggled to a sitting position, then to his feet. His eyes were swelling. One was closed completely. His uniform was torn, his fists were scraped, he could taste blood, and he hurt all over.
But what hurt worst of all was seeing Rosie disappear. Drake looked around and saw no friendship on the faces of his fellow soldiers. They all turned then and walked away from him, leaving him standing alone.
Drake staggered to the pump and washed his face. He looked down at his ripped, dirty uniform and then reeled away from the parade ground. He took the road that led to the woods just outsideAtlanta. Every step jolted his bruised body, and all he could think was,
I got to get away. I can’t stand this anymore!
11
A New Man
R oyal met Rosie heading toward his tent, and one look at his bloodied face told the story. “Did you have it out with Drake?”
“Yes, I did, but I don’t feel good about it.” Rosie stood looking at the ground. “He’s been my best friend for a long time, Royal.”
“I know. It’s hard to fight with a friend.”
“I reckon it is.”
“Where is he now?”
“Headed out somewhere. You better go catch him, Royal. He might desert, and the general would have him shot sure.”
“I think you’re right. Why don’t you clean yourself up? I’m sorry this had to happen.”
Royal broke into a run. Ahead he saw Drake, walking blindly along the line of tents and apparently headed for the woods.
“Drake!” he called out. “Wait a minute!” He caught up with the private and put himself directly in front of him. “Where are you going?”
“What difference does it make?”
“It makes a lot of difference if you get posted as a deserter!” Royal said. “You know what the general would do to you then.”
“He’d have to catch me first!”
“That wouldn’t be too hard to do. Look, we all make mistakes from time to time. We all have to learn how to say we’re sorry.”
“Is that what you want me to do? Come crawlin’ back and say I’m sorry?”
“Not to me. To Charlie.”
Drake hesitated, as though considering doing exactly what Royal was suggesting. But then he shook his head stubbornly. “I’ll write her a letter sometime.”
“Drake, I’m going tell you something else.” Royal waited until Drake’s eyes were fixed on him. “I’ve asked Lori to marry me, and she said that she would. I wanted you to hear it from me, not from somebody else.”
At first Royal thought Drake would throw himself at him, and he stiffened, waiting for the charge.
But the fire in Drake’s eyes died, and he took a deep breath. “Well, that makes you happy, doesn’t it? You beat me out.”
“No, beating you doesn’t make me happy. I know what it’s like to lose something you love. One of us
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