After that there weren’t any more close scrapes and we spent most of our time at the Navy Yard in Washington, where Professor Lowe and the rest were assembling a series of balloons as well as a balloon boat, as Mr. Edward called it, to carry and tether several of them at once up and down the Potomac. One afternoon I went to run errands for Mr. Edward, dropping off his post and, though I didn’t tell him, mine: a letter to Jonathan and my mother, one to Horatio, and, on an impulse, one to Rosaline, recounting the vague outlines of my experiences thus far. I also was buying his favorite tobacco, Lilienthal’s, coffee and tea, some lead-tin solder, and a few other things from the general store, taking good care to avoid any trouble. I checked my watch after I left the main post office and saw I had some free time, so I decided to head up to where Dandy and me had stayed when we first came to town, to see if anybody had seen or heard from him.
I retraced my steps back there, straight up 7th St. through Mt. Vernon Square, past the market and the shops, every street, every tree, every building both strange to me and yet so familiar, to 9th and Q, where I saw the shack, so tiny and filthy it was hard to imagine that seven or more of us had slept and eaten in there at the same time! As I approached it I saw a woman I recognized, though her back was turned to me. Her name was Mary Agnes and she had arrived just before I left. She was standing outside the front door. “How do, Miss?” I called out to her, asking if she had seen or heard from Anthony Smith. That name made her whip her head around towards me, and snap, “Who the hell asking?” I answered, “His cousin, I even stayed here with you, Mary Agnes, don’t you remember, when we first came to the city—” and before I could finish the sentence she was shrieking, “Y’all, y’all, come out here right now, it’s one of them northerners that run a game on us,” and I said, “No, no, I didn’t run no game,” and she yelled even more loudly, “You gonna pay for what you did,” and I said, “No, you got the wrong person, ask Cyrus,” because I had even brought them food and left them money, but two men, both twice my size, came scrambling from the shack and across the street I saw another, wielding a carving knife, and I took off running, coiling my bag around my hand so I didn’t drop it, and cut a left on what I guessed was P and just zigzagged across the street, even hearing a gun go off behind me, three times, but didn’t stop running all the way to Mt. Vernon Square, where I darted behind one of the stalls and dropped to my knees to catch my breath and examined myself quickly to make sure I hadn’t gotten shot. Only then did I consult my pocket watch. When I peered out at the street I didn’t spot anybody chasing me, but I thought I should be careful so I turned my coat inside out and tied a kerchief around my head, figuring as I did so that I ought to take the roundabout way back, while also realizing that Mr. Edward was going to be cross if I returned too late. I started running again, but nevertheless the evening was already filling the sky by the time I reached the Navy Yard grounds.
Soon as I entered our encampment, I first heard then witnessed Mr. La Mountain once again yelling at Professor Lowe, this time letting everyone nearby know that down at Fort Monroe he was able to fly unsecured above the Confederate territory without a problem and was convinced that if they could just get the go-ahead from General McClellan, which Professor Lowe alone could guarantee, given that he had “the President and Congress in his pocket,” he, Mr. La Mountain would eagerly do so. He added, even more loudly, that he had never suffered the kinds of mishaps Professor Lowe and Mr. Wise had, downing balloons, crashing into enemy territory, that he could fly a balloon from “here to New York or New Orleans, if need be,” with his eyes closed and hands tied behind back. For his part Professor Lowe as usual was ignoring him and speaking determinedly with other members of the staff about their projects. Mr. Edward, an observer to the quarrel like everybody else, sidled up to me and said, “You would think that man is on the other side half the time.” While he spoke he extended his hand for the things I bought him, registering nothing about my lateness. When we were through I inquired of Ulysses if he needed any help, since I knew he had spent the entire afternoon assisting various members of the Corps’ assembly team attaching and reknotting the web of ropes from one balloon to its basket. He said he didn’t, he was done. But he asked me to fetch them, and by implication him, some water. At the pump, as I was filling the pitcher, Mr. La Mountain stormed over and shoved me out of the way to fill his cup. My first thought was to say something, though I wasn’t sure what I could say to someone of his rank and stature and not get punished for. Instead I brought Ulysses the pitcher and headed off to help Patrick, if he needed me, with mess.
That night, before Mr. Edward sent me on my way, he asked me to stroll with him out toward the river. “Sir, is it safe,” I asked, and he said, “Theodore, why are you always so yellow with fear? There are federals all the way south to Alexandria Town, and more troops all along the Maryland coastline”—indicating these phantasms with a sweep of his hand—“so there is simply no need to worry.” Yet even after being down here for nearly a month, I didn’t ever feel secure, so I aimed as slyly as possible to keep him between the water and me. “I had to tell someone,” he was still going on, “since Johann — John Steiner — confirmed what Professor Lowe had promised, which is that I will get an opportunity to go up in the balloon first thing tomorrow!” I thought and then said, “Sir, that’s your wish come true, Mr. Edward, just wonderful,” and he said, “Neddy—and it is, Theodore, I almost can’t believe it. You’ll have to be up earlier than usual, because I need to be ready, and whatever trick you use to stay so punctual use it so that you are by my side as soon as the sun’s up.” Sure as the sun rose, I was.
The morning sky looked like it would split in two. For a while a heavy wind boxed around the small balloon, but it didn’t rain and things calmed enough that once it had filled with gas Mr. Edward could ascend to test it. I stood beside Professor Lowe, who this time, rather than me, was holding the telegraph wire, Misters Steiner and Starkweather, and several assistants, who were manning the cables. We all watched Mr. Edward as he opened the valve to regulate the height, and backed up when he urged us to as he snipped open sandbags to ascend. All the while he was calling out various things I committed to memory, knowing that although he had taken his notebook with him he wasn’t yet writing anything down. There was enough wind and slack that after he initially floated above the dock he hovered westward over the inlet, then rose higher and balanced not far from the buildings on M Street. The wind was strong and he coasted upward and eastward, until he was hovering above the neighboring market, then he floated over the open water, holding there for a while as most of the others, except the men on the cables, dispersed. Professor Lowe handed me the telegraph wire, and left with Mr. Steiner for a short while, both still talking animatedly about various aeronautical issues when they returned.