CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Time for Decision

Adam pressed hard on the sides of his carpetbag, trying in vain to bring them close enough for the latch to close.  Finally, he stood back, exhaling in exhausted exasperation, and glared at the recalcitrant piece of luggage.  He had more to pack in than he’d brought from New Haven, of course, but surely not that much.  He shook his head with chagrin as he admitted that he probably had overestimated the capacity of the carpetbag when he’d decided to do some Christmas shopping here in the big city.  Maybe I should have bought an extra bag, while I was at it, he thought ruefully and then shook his head at his foolishness.  He didn’t need that much space, just a little bit more than he had.

He opened the carpetbag again, pulled out a few small items he could carry in his pockets, rearranged the remainder as compactly as possible and made another assault on the bag.  Still a tough tussle, but he finally managed to close the latch and sat down on the edge of his bed to relish the small victory.

The little room looked bare now, with all his belongings packed, but it was decorated with memories.  It had been a profitable summer, especially in his growth as a potential architect, but also in his enjoyment of cultural offerings and his appreciation for a wide variety of people.  He’d miss Bert, in particular, and Mr. Bracebridge, of course, but since he had the promise of another internship next summer, he’d see them again.  He wasn’t as certain about the people here at the boardinghouse.  A lot could change over that many months.  This room might be taken by then, and even if it were available next summer, nothing could guarantee that people as old and frail as the Randolphs would still be here.  He’d miss them all, even the man-chasing Whitney girls.  There were worse fates, he admitted with a grin, than having three reasonably attractive young ladies vying for his attention.

Pulling out his pocket watch, he checked the time.  If he left now, he’d be at least half an hour early for his train, but better that than being late, he decided as he pocketed the watch and stood up.  You never knew: the horse car might be full, requiring him to wait for another; worse, the police might be checking exemption papers at the station, taking up more time.  He patted his inner coat pocket to assure himself that he had his papers at the ready, if they were needed; then he picked up his carpetbag and the most recently published section of Les Misérables, which he’d purchased just yesterday, and headed downstairs.

Bert and Mr. McCrory were at work, of course, but the others were all gathered in the parlor when Adam entered to say his final farewells.  The Whitney girls declared themselves heartbroken at his departure, although their mother looked more stricken than they.  Adam wasn’t sure whether that was because she’d now have to find a new boarder or because none of her girls had landed this particular man.  Dear Mrs. Randolph had tears glistening in her eyes as she kissed his cheek, and her husband took Adam’s hand with almost fatherly warmth and urged him to keep safe on his journey.

“Well, I’d best be on my way, if I’m to reach the station before the train departs,” Adam jested.  He was in no real danger of that yet, but his stop by the parlor had already eaten up about half of his spare time.  He couldn’t afford much further delay.  Everyone called “Good-bye” and “Safe journey” as he left the boardinghouse and headed up Grand for Bowery, where he caught the horse streetcar and rode to the 27^th Street station and purchased his ticket on the New York and New Haven Railroad.  The train pulled in, he boarded and promptly opened his latest volume by Victor Hugo, which absorbed him until he reached New Haven that afternoon.

The first face he saw, when he left the train, was that of Jamie, but before he could even clasp hands with his friend, there was Elizabeth, arms about his neck, crying out how much she’d missed him and how good it was to have him “home.”

“Would you like me to take your bag to our room?” Jamie suggested with a barely contained smile when Adam finally broke free of the embrace enough to notice him.

“Oh, yes, and then we can have a glass of tea together and catch up on all the news that wouldn’t fit in our letters,” Elizabeth urged, her hand still possessively on Adam’s arm.

Adam frowned slightly.  He’d hoped to spend this evening with his friends, perhaps over Golden Buck at Mory’s, and the next day with Elizabeth, but the frown faded as he gazed into her eyes.  She’d missed him, as much as he’d missed her, and filled with the emotion of that, he knew that she deserved first place in his time, as well as his heart.  Practically, however, he foresaw a problem.  “I can’t have you lugging my bag up four flights of stairs,” he told Jamie.

Jamie rolled his eyes.  “I’m stronger than you give me credit for, chum.  I managed to tote all my belongings up those stairs without the aid of your muscular arm, you know.”

Adam grinned and handed over the carpetbag.  “It’s heavy,” he warned.  “Books.”  Seeing Jamie’s eyes light with interest, he laughed and said, “Help yourself.”

“Oh, I will,” Jamie agreed happily.  “Climbing four flights merits its reward, after all.  See you for supper?”

“Yes,” Adam replied, not daring to look at Elizabeth.

When Jamie had left, Elizabeth threaded her arm through Adam’s.  “I should be quite peeved with you, for choosing his company over mine,” she scolded gently.

Adam touched her lips with a light kiss.  “I’d planned to take you to dinner tomorrow,” he said, “when I wasn’t so exhausted from the trip that I couldn’t fully enjoy your company.”

She sighed contentedly.  “Your plan is much better.  Tea?”

“At our place,” he whispered.  He led Elizabeth out into the street, and though he had, at first, eyes only for her, he began to notice the people they were passing and his brow wrinkled.  “Unusual number of blue uniforms strolling about,” he observed.

Elizabeth gave them a casual glance.  “Not really,” she said.  “We see quite a few soldiers about town nowadays, Adam, because of the new units forming.”

“Yes, of course,” he mumbled.  Foolish to have thought I left all that behind in New York, he told himself.

“It’s quite exciting, don’t you think?” Elizabeth said with an admiring glance at the nearest man in blue.

“You think so?” Adam asked flatly.

“Oh, yes!” the oblivious girl gushed on.  “So many men signing up to do their patriotic duty can only mean the war will soon be over and Father can come home.”

Adam smiled then, certain he’d feel the same way if it were his father at the battle front.  They spent a cozy hour at the restaurant, sharing news of their summer over tall glasses of iced tea, and then he walked her home, with promises to spend the entire next day at her beck and call.  His head was in the clouds as he walked toward the college yard, so full of dreams of tomorrow that he didn’t hear the shout of greeting until his name had been called a second time.  Spinning around, he was at first surprised to see a man in the blue uniform of a Union soldier and then shocked to realize that the soldier was someone he knew, someone who had sat but a few seats from him all of his first year at Yale.  “Jim?” he asked.  “Is that you?”

“Was it the haircut that confused you?” James Brand asked with a grin, raising his visor cap to reveal newly shorn locks.

“No . . . what sat atop it,” Adam drawled.  “You’ve joined the army?”

James popped a sassy salute.  “Private Brand of the 27^th Connecticut, reporting for duty, sir.”  He laughed.  “Proving, of course, that they’ll take anyone.”

Adam walked forward to shake the other man’s hand.  “They could find no finer man,” he said, meaning it, for James Brand had earned the respect of all his classmates for the solidity of his convictions and his commitment to excellence in his studies.   “Are you free this evening?  I’m meeting Jamie for supper, and we’d be pleased to have you join us.”

James grinned broadly.  “We’re supposed to be in camp, down at Grapevine Point, but they’ve been pretty lenient with us, so far.  In fact, I came out this evening, hoping some of my fellow students had come in early, and I’d have a chance for a little Yalensian fellowship before I march off to war.”

“When will that be?” Adam asked as they started toward the college yard.

James shrugged.  “No date set yet.  We still need to fill up the regiment before we muster in.”

Fill up the regiment—the words tossed Adam’s soul into a vortex, the same one whose swirling ripples he had battled all summer long.  Fill up the regiment—yes, he could help do that, but should he?  He had his exemption papers; he wanted to continue his education.  But if the issue were settled, why did those few words—fill up the regiment—sound so much like a clarion call.  Where did his duty lie?

They climbed to the top floor of South Middle and found both Jamie and Marcus Whitmore.  Both stood at once when the others came in, and hands were shaken all around.  James was immediately besieged by questions provoked by the sight of his uniform, but he waved them off.  “Later,” he insisted.  “Adam here has invited me to join you for supper, and I promise to become positively loquacious over a plate of good food.”

The other three laughed, confessed themselves starving, as well, and they all agreed to dinner at Mory’s.  “Are there many of our classmates in your regiment?” Jamie asked as they waited for their food to arrive.

“Several,” James replied and ticked off a number of names.  “Add that to the men who left school to enlist last spring, and the Class of ‘66 is well represented in the field.”

“Why did you decide to enlist, Jim, if you don’t mind my asking?” Marcus inquired shyly.

James leaned forward, his eyes intent.  “Not for any momentary excitement or love of adventure, I assure you,” he said.  “Not for any hope of honor, either.  This country has given so much to me, ever since I came here from Canada when I was the age of you lads, and I could not rest if I did not stand with her in this, her hour of need.  I’ve abhorred the thought of slavery from my childhood up, and I have no doubt that it will go down in the blood of this rebellion.”  Emotion thickened the residual Scottish brogue of those childhood years as he said, “Simply put, I enlisted because I believe that God and humanity demand it.”

“That says it all, doesn’t it?” Marcus said, eyes shining with inspiration.

“Oh, not you, too,” Jamie protested.  “You can’t mean to enlist!”

“Why not?” Marcus demanded.  “Because you think I’m not man enough?”

Adam kept his mouth shut, but admitted inwardly that he had trouble imagining gentle, soft-spoken Marc with a rifle in his hands.

“Of course not,” Jamie sputtered, “but think!  To give up your education . . .”

Brand raised a hand.  “I don’t mean to sway any man’s decision, but there’s no reason it has to be one or the other, Jamie.  The 27^th is a nine-months’ regiment, so, yes, I’ll be delaying my education a year, but certainly not giving it up.  I’ll be back.”

“You can’t guarantee that,” Jamie countered hoarsely.

“No,” Brand admitted, “but if it comes to it, I believe I will have laid down my life in a just and holy cause.”  He reached over to clasp the younger man’s shoulder.  “And I’m trusting in your prayers, the fervency of which I well know, to bring me safely through.”

The food arrived, and the subject was dropped as four hungry lads devoured heaping plates of Golden Buck and grilled sardines, but an air of soberness hung over their table and hovered above them as they left.  When they came to the corner where they needed to go separate ways, Adam and Jamie each gave James a warm handclasp, coupled with best wishes from Adam and promises of daily prayer from Jamie.  Marcus hung behind as the other two college students turned to leave.

Looking over his shoulder, Jamie saw his friend in earnest conversation with the soldier.  “He’s going to do it,” he sighed.

“A man has to do what he thinks is right,” Adam said, his eyes lingering on the other pair.

Jamie, who had always been so close to Adam that they almost shared each other’s thoughts, whispered, “And what do you think is right . . . for you?”

Bringing his gaze back to the face of his best friend, Adam smiled quizzically.  “I’ve debated that all summer, chum.”

“I’m not enlisting,” Jamie said bluntly.  “Call me coward, if you must.”

“Never,” Adam said firmly.  “For you, it’s definitely the right decision.  You couldn’t be a soldier, Jamie.”

Jamie’s face twisted in a sour smile, and he made the same charge that Marcus had earlier.  “Because you think I’m not man enough?”

“Of course not,” Adam declared as fervently as Jamie had before.  He might have cited health concerns, but there was a stronger reason.  “You could never take another life,” he said plainly, “and a soldier has to be prepared to do that.”

“Are you prepared to do that?” Jamie asked soberly.

It was a question Adam had settled long ago.  He came from a rough territory, where that decision might have to be made on a second’s warning, and he knew: if his family or his land were threatened, he’d shoot, hoping not to kill, but willing to do what he must to protect what he cherished.  “Yes,” he replied simply.  “I’d be prepared to do that if I had to.”

Jamie hadn’t pressed the subject, perhaps fearing to push his friend in a direction he prayed he would not go, but as Adam lay alone in his bed that night, he pondered the question again.  Was he prepared to kill another man, not to protect his own family or his private land, but to defend the nation?  Was he prepared, as James Brand had phrased it, to lay down his life for the just and holy cause of liberty and justice for all, the promise of the Pledge of Allegiance?

Restless, Adam threw back the covers and walked into the next room, the shared chamber that separated his bedroom from Jamie’s.  Sinking into the well padded armchair by the open grate, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands raking through his tousled hair as he searched his soul one final time.  Classes would begin the day after tomorrow, and his decision had to be made by then . . . tonight . . . now.

Slavery was a vile curse on the land of the free and the home of the brave: it had to end.  As Jim had put it, God and humanity demanded it, and that same cry reverberated in Adam’s heart.  Though Pa had done his best to spare his young son the grim realities, Adam had seen slaves in St. Joe and had wondered, even then, why boys exactly like him except for the color of their skin had had to spend their days sweating in the fields, instead of exploring the adventure of learning.  Freedom for boys like that, to raise themselves from a humble beginning as he had, was a cause worth giving one’s life for, but he’d held back, hoping and praying that enough other men would hear the cry and preserve the Union without his help.  He’d thought he could let those men fight and die in his place, those nameless, faceless strangers, but here on the streets of New Haven, the battle had become personal.  Not just strangers, but familiar faces and fast friends like Jim and Marc were offering their lives—and he couldn’t let them do it alone.  He belonged at their side, sharing the cause in which they all believed, and suddenly the decision he’d debated all summer became as automatic as deciding whether to defend Pa or Hoss or Little Joe.

The thought of Pa brought a chagrinned twist to his mouth.  Pa would kill him—assuming some Johnny Reb didn’t beat him to it.  Throughout the summer Adam had chafed at the slowness of the mail.  Now he welcomed it, dreading the explosion whose repercussions he was certain he’d feel all the way from Nevada.  Even with normal service restored, however, by the time Pa heard the news, the deed would be done, and sooner or later, surely, Pa would forgive him.

Adam yawned and headed back to bed.  Tomorrow would be a busy day.  He’d have to tell Jamie, hard since he’d have to do it in person, and unlike Pa, Jamie could argue back.  He’d make his friend understand, though.  Then there were financial arrangements to be made, for he wouldn’t let Jamie suffer for his decision.  He had a substantial sum from his summer’s work to deposit in the bank.  With the army providing for his personal needs, he wouldn’t need it, and he wanted to make certain that Jamie had access to the account, so that he could afford to keep this chamber, even if he couldn’t find another man to room with him.  He’d need to tell Elizabeth, too, but he anticipated nothing but patriotic pride from her.  She’d be thrilled to stroll around town on the arm of a man in blue.

He slipped under the covers, sitting there with his arms circling his knees and gazing out the window at the stars twinkling in the summer sky.  Soon, perhaps even by tomorrow night, he’d be camping beneath them.  He’d looked forward to the comfort and convenience of living on the college grounds, but he’d spent his boyhood sleeping under an open sky and had no qualms about facing it again.  That had been in pursuit of his father’s dream, though it had become his, as well.  Now he was gazing steadfastly ahead into a different dream, not for himself alone, not even for those he loved best, but for a whole race of people he’d never met, and God willing, its pursuit would be as fruitful as the journey west had been.

~ ~Notes~ ~

James Brand’s reasons for joining the Union army are paraphrased from his autobiography, written for his children and available online at http://www.worldcat.org/title/james-brand-twenty-six-years-pastor-of-the-first-congregational-church-oberlin-some-chapters-from-his-life/oclc/4596207/viewport

The End

© January, 2012