Ghost Soldier by Elaine Marie Alphin Page B

“I—I don’t think so. I believe I was pondering those green plates and didn’t come over here to check. I could see other trees still standing. I just assumed…” His voice trailed off in a tired sigh.
    â€œWell, it’s gone now,” I said. “Even if the tree was there that time, there wasn’t anything you could have done about it, not unless you had someone to take the box out for you.”
    He jerked around suddenly and looked at me. “If the tree’s gone,” he said, “then someone must have found Louise’s metal box and opened it!”
    Maybe someone had, I thought. But how in the world could we ever find out what they did with it?

Chapter Nine
    A N EW P LAN
    I led the way back to the recreation area slowly, knowing how heartsick Richeson must feel.
    â€œWhat if someone took it and kept it?” he demanded, pacing angrily right through the weeping willow branches. I closed my eyes and tried not to watch. No wonder he couldn’t take Louise’s box, the way he just passed through things like that. It made me feel queasy. “I’ll never find it then!”
    He turned to face me, his eyes blazing. “There has to be some record of them—there has to be!”
    I sat on top of one of the picnic tables with my feet propped up on the bench, and wished I knew what to tell him. Finally I said, “I don’t know what records we need to look at, and I probably couldn’t find them even if I did know.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how to find your family, Rich. I can’t even seem to keep my own family together. Maybe I’m just not strong enough—or brave enough.” I took a deep breath. “You should have chosen a different out-of-timer.”
    He stopped pacing and looked at me silently for a few long moments. “You were brave enough to withstand Fort Stedman, Alexander,” he finally said. “Anyway, it was not a choice—you were the one who was meant to help me.” He came to the picnic table and sat beside me, his coolness wafting over as if I’d opened a refrigerator door. “Did you ever think that perhaps your mother’s leaving had nothing to do with you? My mother didn’t choose to leave me.”
    â€œYour mother died,” I said, impatiently wiping my face. “It’s not the same thing!”
    â€œLouise didn’t choose to leave me, either,” he said evenly. “Yet she left. Your mother left for her own reasons, not because of you.”
    â€œThen why didn’t she take me with her?” I whispered.
    He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He thumped the butt of his musket helplessly on the air above the bench. “I wish I had answers for you, Red. But—” He paused. “I think there’s a difference between your mother leaving and what happened to my family.”
    I knew he was right, and I knew I didn’t want to hear it. “Yeah,” I told him. “In your family, you’re the one who left. And they waited for you as long as they could. But when you got back, they were gone … and now you’ve lost them.”
    â€œI haven’t lost them forever,” Rich whispered. “I’ll find them.”
    I looked down at the table’s surface and traced a pair of carved initials. “Well, I haven’t lost Mom forever, either.”
    After a moment, Rich said, “If I could help you find her, I would.”
    I knew he meant it. And I wanted to help him, too. I just didn’t have any idea how to begin. Then I remembered what Dr. Seagraves had said about searching for her family. Tentatively, I said, “Maybe we should try some sort of county records or the Genealogical Society or something.”
    Rich straightened up, his pale face brightening. “The county courthouse would have records of when the Yankee Reconstructionists seized the farm, and there’d be