By the time he reached the great lawn he could feel the weight of the wood and found himself tired from carrying this new burden. He found a bench to rest upon and sat there, looking out toward the Sound as the autumn wind blew north. As he watched the sails moving out in the harbor, through the barren branches, he wondered which of these vessels might take him home if he went down to the dock at that moment to book passage. If he went that very day he might even make it in time for Rose’s birthday.
He knew, though, he would not go that day. He needed at least another week to finish his business there, and to recuperate, before taking up the burden of travel again, to say nothing of husbandry.
He thought again about the shock it would be for them at home, when they saw him, and wondered how he would be able to fit into his former life again. Although every year he had seen those conscripted go from being farmers to soldiers and others going back again the other way, he did not see how it could be so simple a movement and knew the first one was easier than the other. It takes awhile to relearn one’s former self, he thought to himself, as he looked toward the ocean, if ever it is possible again.
He wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pressing the embroidery inside his coat against his body. I will make it there in time for Thanksgiving, he promised himself, and he was satisfied as evening fell and he walked back to the inn for supper.
four
He arrived at the hall, on a narrow, slanting street off the main way, promptly at eight o’clock, only to find it still deserted. He went to the bar and ordered a glass of rum, which he took to a table off on one side of the room and sat alone, nursing it. By nine o’clock the hall had grown half full with people, but he still did not see Elissa. He told himself it had been the remotest of possibilities to begin with, and that she had never promised him her company. Perhaps she had been teasing, and it was only her way. He tried to decide then whether he should leave to find other amusement or stay on in any case, to see what else might unfold there that night. He felt foolish, though, and had decided to leave when he saw two faces appear at the entrance whom he recognized from his past.
The first to enter was Carl Schuyler, from the army, and just behind him was the slave Julius from Berkeley. When they saw him they immediately came over to his table, and he stood up to shake each of their hands, glad to be reacquainted and, beyond that, elated to see familiar faces.
Julius, who had known him longer, was first to speak. “The last time I saw you, they was leading you from the battlefield, and we all thought for sure you’d died.”
“I did not,” Caleum answered, signaling to the waiter for more drinks. “But I came powerful close. Has your own tour ended?” he asked next, changing the subject from his own fortunes.
“No, but the fighting has stopped for the winter, so we were given a leave.”
“We can travel on to Berkeley together, then,” Caleum said to Julius. “It is good to have company on the road.”
“Any other time I would, but I’m not headed back that way.”
“That’s where your sister Claudia and the rest of your people are,” Caleum said. “They’ll want to see you.”
“Unless I want to be always and ever somebody’s slave,” Julius answered, “there is no place for me there anymore.”
Caleum could only nod at this. “Where will you go instead?”
“I don’t know yet, but not back to bondage,” he said defiantly. “Not under my own power, at least.”
“Then we must make the most of our meeting,” Caleum proclaimed. He had never been one for rich meals and lavish wines, but he ordered as well as they could from the menu offered in the hall that night. Their table was laid with the best fruits of the harvest, and the choicest meats, and they dined sumptuously, reminiscing and telling feats of past bravery and wishing one another only good fortune for the future, especially for Julius in his new plans.
He had all but forgotten how he originally learned of that place called Mary’s Hamlet — and was lost completely in nostalgia and boasts with his old acquaintances — when he saw Elissa standing at the end of their table. He offered her a seat among them but did not stand.
“I’ve come with friends,” she answered, but his own friends were well supplied with drink by then and eager to have women’s company. They told her there was more than room enough for all of them at their table.
When the places were filled, and everyone had been introduced, the laughter and fellow feeling reminded Caleum of those festive days as a boy when his grandfather entertained in the great hall at Stonehouses. Although he was not among kin, he felt as cheerful as he had then, enjoying the pleasures of sharing his board with friends.
Elissa sat at his side, and each time she laughed she leaned toward him and brushed lightly against his arm. It had been years since he felt a woman so close, and each time she touched against him he wondered what it meant, but also why he had held himself so chastely and apart from feminine company. He thought then of his family and children. And was reminded in general of all those things the heart will not relinquish. Julius and Carl were both surprised to see him so casual that night, as he was always rigid with dutifulness since each had known him. Now he relaxed, letting the evening expand unchecked and allowing whatever suggestions it might make to hold and seduce him.
He watched the girl Elissa as she interacted with his friends, and, though some might think her beneath the women he was accustomed to, especially Libbie, she had a way of making those around her feel relaxed, as all mingled freely according to whim and will and not as was dictated by usual social customs. Caleum also held Julius in the light of friendship again, as he had not done since they were boys and all equal.
“Did you notice anything strange at Saratoga?” he asked, taking Julius by the shoulder, when they had exhausted their talk of battle and everyone they both knew from Berkeley.
“Everything was strange at Saratoga, and all of it too familiar.”
“Did you see anyone you knew from other days?”
Julius nodded in recognition. “You saw him too?”
They both shuddered with sadness. “To see him there, you would think he had never known any other life,” Caleum remarked.
“I’m afraid he doesn’t know any life at all anymore,” Julius said, going on to report how Bastian had been mortally injured at that battle, as he oversaw the artillery with his lord. “When he was shot, the Blue Colonel was on the other side of the field, and they say he would not let anyone else touch him, calling them all commoners who tried.”
“How far some men seem to travel from their origins,” said one of the ladies, who was deeply affected by the story of Bastian Johnson, when Julius had finished relating it.
“Aye,” they all uttered at different volumes, then paused to lift their glasses in a toast of remembrance. As Elissa placed her glass back on the table she touched Caleum’s arm again, and in that moment he felt a doorway back from the isolation that had gripped him for so long.
It is not good always to eat alone, he thought, placing his hand upon hers, very briefly, without looking at her.
“Would you like to dance?” Julius asked the woman next to him, who was called Sally, as the table grew quiet. She took his hand gladly, and they stood to make their way to the ballroom floor.
“Let’s all dance,” Carl suggested, at which everyone at the table stood up eagerly except Caleum and Elissa.