Days of Uncle Ernest - Chesapeake City and the World – Billy, Chapter 8

Days of Uncle Ernest -

Chesapeake City and the World – Billy, Chapter 8

“When we returned to Lizzie’s island cottage,” Uncle Ernest explained, “hordes of soldiers and guards dressed in red uniforms and high, fluffy, black hats were assembled on the lawn. When Lizzie saw them as we were gliding in, she hugged me hard and started crying softly. Then she dried her eyes and told me in firm, direct language that she would not be able to see me again. I’ll tell you, Moose, I was thunderstruck. It was like touching your car’s spark plug while the motor’s running.

“ ‘My country needs me; I must do my duty. You will be forever in my thoughts, Ernie dear. There will never be another man in my life—forever. And, dearest, I want you to do something for me. In the new world there exists a province called Mary’s Land. If you ever travel to that wild, savage land to the west, and if you ever go through the territory directly south of Mary’s Land, and when you hear the name they have called that territory, think of me; think of me and smile. Remember me and the wonderful, enchanting few days that we had together. Be assured, Ernie, that you and these days will be in my memory forever.’

“Then I embraced her, gave her a nice, long kiss, and wiped away her tears. Seconds later she was pulled from my arms by two guards, who then bowed deeply to her and lifted her up into an elaborate golden basket that was set on two long poles on each side. Four uniformed soldiers then grabbed the ends of the poles and carried her off towards a large sailing ship at the dock.

“As the strange, golden basket headed towards the ship, with all the soldiers and guards marching on each side, my Lizzie leaned out the window and waved her handkerchief at me. The look on her face was the saddest I have ever seen in my life. And that, Moose, was the last I ever saw of her.”

Then Uncle Ernest hung his head and I could tell he was feeling awfully sad because he didn’t say anything for a while, so I said, “Geez, Unk, that’s kind of sad, but I could never feel bad about losing a simple girlfriend … so what?”

Then he looked over at me and said, “Ahhh, but you will; you will!” A couple minutes later, though, I looked over at Uncle Ernest and he was smiling.

“Why the big grin, Unk?” I asked, happy that he was feeling better.

“I was thinking about what Lizzie said to me so many years ago. What’s the territory directly south of Maryland?”

“Hmmm … Virginia?” I asked, not quite sure of myself.

“Right you are, Moose!” And I could tell by the smile and dreamy look of pleasure in his eyes that he was going to be all right. Uncle Ernest and I sat there for a while in silence that late summer evening. And, Nina, I’m sure you know what it’s like at the end of the day on our farm in the late summer. The beauty and peacefulness of that particular evening—so many, many years ago—remain vividly alive in my mind.

The sun had disappeared below the line of trees to the right of Dave Herman’s giant oak. There was absolutely no breeze at all as the light gradually diminished, leaving an eerie stillness broken only by the cicadas, crickets, and other tiny creatures of the evening. And from a distant field, the mournful cooing of a dove, echoing from the deep woods, added to the enchantment.

As the mosquitoes buzzed our ears and dined on our legs and arms, we swatted a few but then gave up and, with Uncle Ernest’s arm around my skinny, brown shoulder as he whistled a nonsense tune through his teeth, headed towards the house.

I would be off to bed after warming the water and washing from the basin, but Uncle Ernest, after sprucing up a bit, would be off for a night of partying in the town’s taverns. I swung the screen door open wide to its limit, ran past Uncle Ernest in the hall, and raced into the kitchen just in time to hear it slam for the last time that day.  [To be continued Friday, 9/14/2012]