Dust & Wind Ltd.
be sealed in lead to-day
Becomes the heart of town,
The place to build garage or inn,
They’ll throw your tombstone down.
Wisenheimer Hawkshaw- 1905
Imagine 1965 technology in 1905. The Dart could transmit voice from any hemisphere on earth… and had rudimentary television as well- who was starting to recognize color. Such technology was only available in limited quanta and the quality had to be the best available. Such decisions were made by those who desired to keep their sleepy little Canadian mining town’s deepest secrets away from prying eyes and listening ears. Each new Pancake Lake development contained a surprise… a negative space or spandrel that presented a Faustian bargain that seemed irresistible- which indeed it was… except to conservatives who fought to preserve the old ways because their ancestors had seen the devil in the details of, by and for the Faustian bargain.
Thanks to Chaska and his supply of insider information reported directly to Henry at least the three of them had realistic expectations of what was to come. A handful of Henry’s weapons trainees began to follow them as result them seeing how Henry handled things. As they continued to move east as a unit Henry kept Chaska scouting covertly he and his horse swinging way out toward the trees as the large unit moved together. He would then disappear into the woods only to take off with great speed to make sure they weren’t traveling blindly. Coming closer, the sounds of war became evident, the reports from the guns seeming to have toned into a tolling, whining, meeting of their advance.
When Chaska came back around he told Henry they must push south from their direction. The grey had lines pushing east in front of them in huge numbers. An attack on their rear was out of the question by numbers. He saw what he determined to be the south end of their lines and implored Henry to get them to first move south, then east as far as possible, then north into the chaos. Thabo nodded in agreement trusting Chaska’s opinion completely. This put Henry in the difficult position of exposing his role in his own insubordination by mapping out his individual directions toward the enemy. Custer wanted him hanged on the spot. Von Steinwehr came to his defense in earnest having past experience with Henry in battle.
Begrudgingly Custer backed off and the other officers made Chaska lead the way to an entrance to the war where they met with little resistance. Once in the position to reinforce the Union soldiers who were trying to hold off the Confederates- it was a different story. By the time they arrived Buford’s army was fiercely depleted. He survived the immense attack and was replaced by General Reynolds. Custer split off to reinforce another division even further to the east of them. It appeared that the Union still holding all the high ground that it could was holding its own even with occasional pushbacks but not seriously losing any high ground advantage. Waiting for much further reinforcement… the Union soldiers were still outnumbered.
Thabo had become disoriented being the only one of their threesome not used to battle…he had not known how to reckon with poor visibility and the horrors that lay beyond it. Traditionally active battle sites extend an entirely unique way of looking at life death and the present. Aside from not being able to see much through the smoke from the firing of weapons, the smells and grotesque feel of the dead amidst it all scared the living hell out of Thabo. A quick movement from any living form coming toward him through a black cloud eventually became much more welcome than stumbling over a foreign form on the ground. The living form could be dealt with, if quick, and, as they continually say- enabled with the will to live.
Chaska- when not scouting (or spying they now called it) had a hard time determining who the enemy was to his Spirit. Officers for both North and South had attacked and stolen from his people. He among the dwindling numbers of his kind must live with the final insult of them all. They were to disavow their culture, ways and ancestors. They were to be like the white man. To Chaska, this was selling your soul to the supreme Evil Spirit… but for the time being he would have to fight the South: they who enslave those who were not white. He would settle his score with the North soon enough. Henry usually became warrior awakened in these circumstances. He seldom reasoned while in a state of war.
Your bones so near to earth,
Your sturdy kindred dead and gone,
How should men know your worth?
Our old Bose Find: on earth he has no equal… and the Dart was never conceived as a spacecraft. Henry was indeed the devil he claimed to be and Punta is his legacy. The Buoys were not ready to die on that hill. Their glory days were behind them- and if they cannot see it- the next generation will. But Henry was raving mad with the battle- more than his usual stops above the Portal. The voltage must have formed an arc around them sealing them inside. When she used too much power- she exceeded escape velocity. Get hep to the jive daddy. It’s like all blinds-Ville out here in this grey rubber ball old man. That’s because you’re not looking darling. Stop and smell the Sitka spruce. Cut from the Russian forests.
Henry found himself mostly conflicted while weighing his role in this so-called Civil War. He could reconcile the greed factor that was present in all wars… but this one exercised a passion that was hard to ignore. Each and every soldier fought not for the leader who was calling his shots but for his personal anger in the interruption of his perceived perfect life. Henry ruminated as before that this issue had much less to do with the issue of the inhumane treatment of another individual- as it did with how that individual affected the economy of the opposing Weltanschauungen. It was hypocritical in Henry’s comprehension when those oppressed are rarely wanted by either side when freed. Like Chaska and Thabo, Henry faced the war having disgust for both sides. And the pay was lousy.
Excellent for internal combustion aircraft… which is obsolete now sir. The Dart splashed into four foot Lake Superior chop like a baby whale bathtub and Punta snapped closed the junk-rigged dragon wings like they were Punta’s own fingers bringing her down with nary a molecule on the bridge. They call it sea mist on the coast- rarely happens on Lake Superior- but it occasionally does… and when the old Dutchman came chugging out of the Brigadoon fog off Coppermine Point the town goops figured it was just the old buoys gone fishing and coming in with an empty hold and what was in the smelly old scow was nobody’s’ business anyhow. Keep power down to 100hp and she will sound like we are coming in with one engine with our sails all limp and dragging.
Henry hoped that quiet conversation would be allowed so that he might reassure Thabo and Chaska if necessary… and anyone else within a modest range of them. He needed the reassurance of hearing his own voice as well- even if what was being peeped was total shit. There would be chance for brief times of sleep as turns were taken at watch. Some of the more skittish of their horses needed to be blinded some were being tended to for minor wounds. Some were euthanized on the battlefield along with some of the men that could not be retrieved to their rudimentary field hospital. Luxuries had come to be redefined… and as they struggled while waiting for the blessed dark they were attacked by the enemy- yet again. They fought throughout the night.
The night time scenario they had hoped for and depended upon vaporized into a dream and exhaustion, pain, battle cries and screams. The only light of night were the fiery cannon discharges and the fire flashing of the rifles. Henry tried to keep his sanity by counting reflections of the flashes in any shiny metal within his sight. It was the worst hand to hand battle he had ever been a part of. He did not know how he would ever be able to tell Thabo and Chaska that everything was going to be alright. You were at a million tons of thrust and climbing. Thanks pop. I got it now and soon Chaska was popping the cork on a special bottle he saved for this special day back at Pancake Bay. Thabo was celebrating a real estate victory- but Chaska didn’t care.
It was his adopted granddaughter’s Bar Mitzvah… eh.
Man’s epitaph, deep-writ.
It says the world is one great grave.
For names it cares no whit.
Psyche Wings
Goddess of Battle
On sunny days have found you weak and still,
Though I have often held your girlish head
Drooped on my shoulder, faint from little ill:—
Punta had to get Henry back together again before she could approach any LZ. Then there was the matter of Henry’s horse Pony… which he insists is the heart of the Dart. Thabo is back on the river in Chicago. Chaska was last seen in St. Louis but he could be anywhere. Cyclic demands a gentle hand- a lesson that scared Punta half to death. Keep one hand on at all times. They were using just enough power to keep the lights on. All they wanted was an electrical generator back in 1885. That was 20 years after the war- about the time that Punta was born. Transmission was an unexpected bonus… a spandrel. We decorate our spandrels so much we lose sight of the arch- the Panglossian paradigm I suppose. All these thoughts entertained Punta as she was making 12 knots tacking 1000 feet above Lake Superior. Sense impressions: Punta had plenty.
Henry was conscripted, drafted in the country’s second forced enlistment of military personnel shortly after March 15th. He had made it to Cairo, Illinois on his way to Paducah and General Grant was there. After a couple of months Grant used him for a planned campaign to the east. The Confederates were the first to draft, the Union followed immediately after. Chaska was pulled in with him protesting all the way at being a native and not even being a citizen. Once his costume, as they called it, was removed and replaced by a uniform the authorities insisted he was yellow not red-skinned and pushed him into service with insults. Thabo showed up with a mass of other freed slaves. They needed and let him bring his own horse. He didn’t know it yet but fellow slaves still in shackles in the south had also been drafted for the Confederate’s purposes.
Henry, Chaska and Thabo found themselves together again in the caravan of the wagons and cannons headed through Ohio to Pennsylvania where the southern General Jubal Early had been ordered and accompanied by General Robert E. Lee for part of the way, as he pushed his troops across the Mason Dixon demarcation line. General Lee, had won battles in Virginia and Maryland near the Pennsylvania border. His further advance with Early brought serious attention to Northern lands previously thought to be pretty much unthreatened. Chaska knew of Jubal Early. He was a notorious foe of the Indian and fought many bloody unfair battles against them. All of a sudden Chaska put his heart and all his spirits into the thought of battle against him and his charges. Henry had come with his recommendations from his employers and was recognized immediately as a leader.
They gave him status in that regard, promising a promotion to officer, and he was able to separate Thabo and Chaska from where they’d been placed. He recovered their horses and availed them with arms. The three were able to ride together toward the east on the perimeter of the wheeled vehicles for a great deal of the time. Assuming there would be battle training ahead for the conscripted, Henry waited for them to start giving instruction. Their night time camps turned out to be good only for food, minimal campfires, sleep and, as breakfast was being cooked… an organized marching practice. By the time they had approached the western Pennsylvania border it had become clear to Henry that their idea of battle training was going to consist of only telling the men to guard and keep their ammo dry and to face the enemy with the will to live. Henry couldn’t let that happen.
At her age sensory impressions were creating a firestorm inside Punta’s brain. Like the one in Japan. Chameleon was said to have been lost there with all hands. On 21 July 1869, telegrams were received at New York stating that she had been wrecked near Yokohama, Japan with the loss of 22 lives. It was the ship that Punta remembered belonging to Henry. They cut it up into sections and reassembled her after Henry sank every last dime and ten years of improvements and Punta was one of these… a sensible young child. She walked and talked like an Indian and looked like a Scots Irish girl. She went to the finest schools back east and was Chaska’s adopted granddaughter. Punta is a transformer and her sensory inputs are nothing like you imagine because Punta is crazy as a shithouse rat. She had a design shop with the mill girls… money enough to turn down Chaska’s first offer.
I hide to-night like one small broken bird,
So soothed I half-forget the world gone mad:—
And all the winds of war are now unheard.
Henry started with a gun safety course and his class was voluntarily full. He figured this would at least minimize casualties the Union soldiers might accidentally cause to themselves. Actual target practice was out of the question because of drawing enemy attention and the waste of ammunition. So, Henry educated the soldiers on having an intimate knowledge of their weapons. He trained them in how to completely disassemble, clean, and reassemble the guns. He taught them how to troubleshoot mechanical problems within and without each weapon. The blades were only for when the end of life looked to be imminent… the bayonets and belt knives. Occasionally, they were also needed for euthanasia… and he highly suggested that they train themselves to not think about it as they did it… or afterward. It gave birth to insanity. So Uncle Thabo came down from Detroit and made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. Now Tom, said Punta with measured prudence. Tell Henry I get to dress him- or it’s no deal.
Henry objected strongly to being dressed like one of Punta’s dollies’ but he really had no choice. Her parents were educated refugees from the war- original members of what they called Camp Schatzenputz. Which war Henry could not remember… the Civil War or the Franco-Prussian war. It was 1875 when Punta was just a big bump under her mommas dress and Henry believed the only reason to invade France was to steal their philosophers and chefs… which The Buoys did when they captured the Chameleon and put her out to sea- but they all remembered the battle… and how Henry was prepared to die on that Hill on 1 July 1863… since they were stalled at the Ohio- Pennsylvania border while in wait as Grant’s divisions met from areas far and wide, Henry’s division arrived first from the west. The Michigan cavalry arrived next, commanded by a 23 year old flamboyant kid named Brigadier General George Armstrong Custer.
Lastly a brigade came up from Virginia led by General Adolph von Steinwehr. Henry and Adolph had fought battles together in Europe years ago but they knew each other instantly. It was a stiff but friendly reunion but settled in nicely when each of the men began to trust the other over not bringing up old war tales of the past. Henry’s classes in weaponry kept growing with the arrival of each muster of men. When sufficiently assembled they finally entered the western side of the Allegheny Mountains and a trail blazed their way toward southeastern Pennsylvania to try to put an end to General Lee’s advance into northern states. The tree-laden mountains were cooler in the otherwise suffocating heat of summer- mountain streams and creeks were relatively safe with plenty of water for soldiers and animals. Terrain was a monumental challenge for horse drawn cannons and their caissons with stockpiles of ammunition.
Progress was slow until reaching the pinnacle near Altoona. Descending toward Mercersburg was easier in terrain, but the summer heat was the new challenge. They awaited orders as to how they were to blockade Lee and his army as the unwelcome southerners worked their way toward taking Harrisburg. I saw the message… one of Henry’s favorite students told him in earnest as he grabbed Henry by the shoulders. He made it look as though he were just going to pass by him… then stopped in his path and grabbed. Lee isn’t in Harrisburg, but his man, you know, the bald one with one leg, is camped just outside Harrisburg. Lee and his troops have York and Lee’s coming west and south to us. They have the whole fucking south in Pennsylvania and they are coming for us. From the NORTH! OUR north! Ja. Ja. Henry tried not to show alarm and dug into the chest area of his uniform and unfurled the crude map he had stored over his heart.
The idea wasn’t one of romantic attachment but one of deterrent … shot with his heart as the target. That way in that event their plans more than likely would be as useless as Henry. He saw where they were on the map. If what his student said was true they wouldn’t be heading to Harrisburg as hinted they’d be damned lucky to make it to Gettysburg. Just before dawn Chaska rode back in. Henry was wide awake waiting listening for any horse on approach. Oh shit Chaska said out of breath while dismounting. Gettysburg has at least ten roads coming into it their chief is Buford the decorated guy you remember him from working at peace in Kansas where there is none. I remember him from killing multitudes of the Sioux. He really gets around. He’s on a ridge with his men almost at the edge of town just south of Gettysburg. The man himself was doing his own scouting. Damned near caught me. Has maybe two of what you white people call divisions. I agree they divide.
He shook his head and continued. One of them has fancy weapons. You’ve never seen them before… not even you gun boss. He’s in trouble not that I feel sorry for the bastard. Most of the roads are full of grey. And most of the raw land too. A ridge or any highland is a good idea for your sighting of the enemy but a bad idea when there’s too many of the enemy. The highland becomes a target in a shooting gallery. And the whole of the fucking south is here. And coming for us right now. Henry was not surprised when they were mustered after breakfast and told that they were headed toward Gettysburg and the fight of their lives. They would be joined continuously by the Union Army from all points surrounding. They broke camp and headed east. Many of them prayed. They were Spencer repeaters grumbled Henry. And they made it goddam hot for little Powell and his boys. Could have had my Beecher Bibles and a pox on the whole goddam Yankee cavalry.
Old man Henry is still trying to get Daisy’s boys back to Georgia Punta told the wireless. Get him home and get him a beer came the answer. We will adjust the far-seer as soon as he identifies the harbor in our good old 1905 ides of March. Red sign pharmacy and Atlanta real estate are performing as expected.
With touch most delicate so circling round,
That for an hour I dream that God is good.
And in your shadow, Mercy’s ways abound.
War and Paducah
Dressing the Freshkill
Friends, if you four, as pilgrims, hand in hand,
Returned, the hate of earth once more to dare,
And walked upon the water and the land,
Shutout on the Plantation 1905
Punta was shaken by her loss of control. Punta is a sentient being with no more sense than a rock but like stones and all sentient beings are due respect regardless of their station for the wise realize that station and nation can change with the blink of an eye. Punta was blinking her eyes aplenty when Henry returned from below decks and settled into his prompter box. When she was the Chameleon… the Dart carried a full complement of 200 men to man her engines, deck guns torpedoes and rigging and still have room for cargo. But this was 1885. The kids played ashore while Henry was babbling about Tesla’s invention and hitting calls over the fence with Carnegie money… and the lost Dutchman’s accursed murder gold.
William Quantrill had finally lived to see the Partisan Ranger Act enacted by the Confederate Congress. However, the five dollar bounty provision, which had sparked his interest, that would have been paid for each killed Union soldier had been removed. The Act simply allowed irregulars to have the same pay and benefits as the regular Confederate Army soldiers, but they had to abide by the same rules. This was not what he had in mind, but they became Partisan Rangers regardless. They were still guerrillas, something Jeff Davis abhorred, but they could still get things done.
The day after Henry walked from the town that the Raiders were holed up in, they went back to Lawrence Kansas to further rattle the nerves of the citizens there. This time, the citizens were ready for them, and as the Raiders let their women, including wives and family members, advance on the town first… a trap had been laid and the women that had been captured and were incarcerated in a ramshackle jail. Seeing the trap and retreating to regroup, they had decided to come back days later to free their women. A few of them were pregnant.
They sent a scout of one of their own to fully understand the situation there. He returned in a rage. The jail that housed the women had collapsed. There were many casualties. Quantrill’s Partisan Rangers made immediate plans to rescue any of the living women from the collapse and then annihilate the anti-slavery town of Lawrence Kansas once and for all. The Underground Railroad was enjoying a stronghold there and a group called the Red Legs, a Union Band of thugs who terrorized pro-slavery western Missouri, had also taken Lawrence as their home.
Punta however was acting above her station. She was Captain of the Dart as long as it was on a mission and it appeared the mission was just about over. She carried a minimum crew of nine including crew and pilot and Henry found two below, Dumb and Happy. Punta was flirting with her eyes… the skinny young thing Henry used to call Fat. Henry put on his headset and there was no point in talking to the Captain until she put on hers… which she did eventually fumbling with one hand. Henry smiled. She always had one hand on the controls now. Henry could see everything from his perch amidships. She had nested in the trees and her eggs were fine- if a bit overheated. Popping sounds of the battle were distant now.
On August 20th, Quantrill sent out riders with word of his plans to visit Lawrence for a final time and a roundup of all available ammunition and explosives. The next morning, at dawn, over four hundred and fifty of Quantrill’s Partisan Rangers, including the James and Younger Brothers, rode into Lawrence in a fury. In a four hour attack, they had destroyed most of the town by fire and left over 180 people dead. Few of their surviving and injured women could be rescued. The Union Cavalry was in immediate pursuit. The Confederates were enraged at their actions and immediately dissolved their association with the Partisan militia. If it wasn’t established before, they were now a bonafide much wanted and unsponsored gang of unruly and dangerous thugs.
For sober conclave, ere their battle great,
Would they for one deep instant then discern
Their crime, their heart-rot, and their fiend’s estate?
They wore the finest clothes of Puta’s design made from the most exotic fabrics in the world. Henry’s dress uniform is hanging all squared away and by 1905 design intimidating as hell. Punta tapped the headset and then leaned forward toward the windscreen and two gorgeous apples popped into view. It was the opening shot. It could be a salute… or a warning across the bow. The nipples usually gave measure of temperature or intention to engage. Today they were a young woman’s breasts small and ripe but high hanging fruit nonetheless. Keep your eye on the ground and watch your speed. Relative wind and angle of attack. It’s going to be a long night she whispered. I want to attack you right now.
Henry’s employer had underground interests in Lawrence. Henry hadn’t shown for the final ride to the town. After hearing of the magnitude and devastation caused by the raid, he and Chaska made a beeline for Kimmswick, distancing themselves from the wild western activities of the Missouri border. Lawrence was still smoldering by the time Henry was slugging down steins full of bier with his countrymen next to The River. He sent word to the employer that he would be more effective in a military setting with the support of a few men. They could keep him with that provision or fire him, for all he cared. The money was good, but it was time for him to have back up and support. In the end, they gave him the reins, and he left with Kentucky in mind. Before going south on The River, he crossed to search for Thabo and wanted to swap out for his own horse.
He found Thabo doing farm work on a farm along Merrimac Road, near where they had left him in Illinois. Not even a town, but simply a community of a handful of farms, it was out of the way and had nothing to offer but corn in the summer, some self-sustaining dairy products and a whole lot of peace. If not exactly prospering, Thabo was a happy man. Henry! Henry! Shouted from a fence repair job he was involved with in a field not too far from the road. He knew Henry the moment he saw him. Chaska rode a considerable distance ahead. You put on some years Thabo said boldly. Always do when I’ve seen Satan’s shadow and socialized with monsters. Decided I needed an army again for what’s going on right now. Thabo looked around dramatically and shrugged. I’m remembering when they use ta call YOU Satan. Or least a monster.
There was definitely intent to engage and Henry had no time to think on it. Punta’s nipples showed normal signs of mammary gland development at the height of fertility. Perhaps ovulation. These were no fatty boy boobs. Hank rolled inverted pointed his nose toward the keel of the ship and dropped through the hole like it was Mr. McGregor’s garden. Punta expected him to pop up again with a horse pistol or a saber or some other phallic bullshit. The patriarchy was real enough… but so was the gunfire under a night sky the morning of the third day of the battle. Punta had been in enough fights behind Henry both ashore and on captive decks. Dicks. Whatever. Punta kept her hands on the collective.
Henry slapped Thabo on the back and smiled and nodded. The former slave had finally had a chance to breathe and notice and feel his freedom, instead of running, hiding, foraging and hiding again. I’m headed just south of here for Kentucky. Paducah, for now. General Grant has had it secured for a couple of years now. My employer likes having the Ohio and Tennessee Rivers under the Union control. Looks like Chaska will be there before he even knows I stopped to see you. The Indian was continuing to head south, oblivious to anything happening behind him. Some scout, Henry thought. Well we have to work too you know Thabo. But now we know where to find you and all we have to do is look for the tidiest fence on Merrimac Road. Well away from the river’s flood zone.
They were round as a q-ball wearing little hats on the bottom. Henry’s helmet hit the keel and he found dumb and happy gibbering mad in the dark. So they don’t get their balls blown off I suppose. He switched on the LED and realized he was still wearing his headset. Captain. Your friends are at their posts and all is well below Henry lied. Getting back to port in Agawa bay was all Henry could think of. He would go fly fishing with Thabo in Rock Creek. Or go with Chaska by horse to where there’s no water anywhere… unless you know where to find it. Then it was a sacred thing for drinking and prayer. But everything was an occasion for drinking and prayer to that crazy fucking Indian.
They sat under a tree by the road and described their adventures since seeing each other last. Thabo brought buckets of water for the horses. Food and milk for his friends came next. Folks back off the road near the house craned their necks to watch them. By the time the sun was indicating afternoon, Henry asked about swapping out his loaner horse for his own. Thabo disappeared and brought Chaska’s too with Henry’s. Chaska was dancing with delight to see his old rider. Henry was sure it was some spirit kinship of a kind. Henry’s horse was pouting, repeatedly turning his ass end toward Henry. Before long, they switched gear and saddled up and mounted to go giving Thabo responsibility for the Missouri horses. Wanting to get a good ride in the direction of the south they said their goodbyes promised to return and rode off once again to the war and Paducah.
Black Thabo was invisible as coal in the engine room. That means Chaska must be aloft. Second star to the right. Straight on ‘til morning whispered Punta. Henry will be covering Lee’s retreat now… getting Daisy’s boys back to Georgia like he promised. Punta knew that story before Henry ever taught her to sail. They would sail in the morning at treetop altitude wind only but not for Atlanta. Silly old man needs to be back in Agawa harbor before he loses it completely. They made a damn fine crew- Henry and those two. But the old men are skittish now about coming aboard the Dart and Henry won’t stay anywhere else unless the Dutchman is safely moored and secured. Then Henry could fly his biplane or ride his motorcycle or the old fogeys could tinker with Henry’s car. Who cares. They would be the collective problem back home.
Pillars of cloud, of fire that does not slay,
Bearing a fifth within your regal train,
The Son of David in his strange array—
Cold and Mighty
Stern as Freedom
Divide the clouds asunder.
The HSS Dart was not built to fold space-time. Henry used all the resources of VonHot97 since Antietam in his quest for speed over land and sea alike. Henry met Andrew Carnegie long before the war and Carny was Henry’s patron. Carnegie’s power made the King of Prussia look like a pipsqueak and besides… who wouldn’t like a Scott who understood American manufactures and practiced enlightened forestry. By 1863 our telegraphy was way advanced even compared to old man Lincoln and his clowns in Washington City. But age had chilled Henry by 1905… like the presence of a ghost in a long-closed room.
What Henry couldn’t see was Quantrill with his women. He had three now, thanks to his first. Two years ago, when she’d had enough of his abuse, she carved her initials into his groin while he was in a drunken stupor, so every time his left testicle rested there, he would have memory of her and how she could get when seriously pissed. While it was trying to heal, it frequently got infected in its sweaty locale which made the scar all that more glorious. He would have killed her, but instead he found a new found respect that he never had for any other living being. She was the one who demanded the company of women, and they volunteered happily to be part of this life. Quantrill mellowed and gave them free range in their domestic arrangements. Even he, ended up with very happy women.
Henry the Hessian, am I right. Henry turned to see two men walking toward him. He could not read their moods. Gentlemen, Henry answered simply, displaying nothing more than minor curiosity. We’ve been expecting you. Actually a while ago. Well, I pretty much had to work my way here. He put his hands in his pockets to show that he was unconcerned over his situation. Immediately the two men backed up a few feet. They concentrated on Henry’s pockets and each drew a gun. Henry saw that his hands needed to be exposed and hung them at his sides. And all this, after he took the measures to come totally unarmed knowing he had no chance of success had he brought anything.
He had some new rules to learn in this town. If he survived this solitary foray of his he promised himself to get immediately back into regimental service. After some rest and relaxation in his beloved Kimmswick, he’d be ready for anything the military could assign him to. He’d even let his employer choose which side. This reconnaissance and intelligence work of his was unraveling his nerves. Besides, he craved the company of many men, not just some fussy, superstitious native who thought he was God. But he had to smile at the thought of him just the same. Watching Henry adjust his stance for their benefit and ease, the man who did the talking made the introductions. Unsmiling he stuck out his hand and said Frank James. This is my younger brother Jesse. So- have you come to ride with us…
I’m hoping to. There was no other answer. Didn’t bring my gear but I wanted to make sure the offer might be open. Hoping to find Quantrill around. How do I know when everyone’s ready to powwow. We have a schedule and Quantrill is taking a nap Frank scoffed looking at Jesse who was busy digging his boot heels in the dirt. We’ll just have to do for now. Just tell me when. I’ll be back and prepared well before say Henry. Young Jesse glared deadly silence. Henry understood then and there that Jesse did not trust him. If he rode with this group- Jesse’s gun would be at his back constantly. Henry could sense these things. You bringing your Injun. Sure. He could feel Chaska burning a curse into his soul with this affirmation even though there was no possible way he could have heard Henry.
Let its days of stain and shame And heaviness be ended.
Let its fifes fill all the sky, Redeemed souls marching after…
Do you have women. Women? Jesse began to walk away and disappeared into the crowd. Don’t mind him. Yeah well women are welcome but not the frilly. If you have a women that can ride and shoot and doesn’t faint at bloodshed she can come. You got extra ammo, I can get plenty if you give me a week. And no woman. Right now. Henry did not know much about women… but Henry knew more about ammunition than most people on earth. Henry had the coffee-grinder Sharps made just for him… to grind smokeless powder… and its purpose baffles experts to this day. Had one of these galoots pinched and fired a single .45 round from Henry’s (thankfully absent) pistol belt, it would have vaporized the galoot and half his horse. God only knows what would happen downrange.
Henry took her sailing without power in Agawa bay after the war… the little girl who wanted to be a cabin boy. In twenty years’ time she became weird as any ghoul-haunted woodland… and after seventy winters Henry was saddled with age. He heard voices… little girl voices. It was Rosa Meade Thorne in her grave at fourteen having seen what she had seen in the future. It was all the children’s voices after the Manitou of war had passed leaving footprints of death and horror. Far voices of drowning sailors adrift in the gray-blue ocean sphere and the buoys in the brushfire too far way to be saved. Puta’s presence made Henry sick somehow… but he loved her. She had remarkable talents that reminded him of Daisy and the times they had before the battle.
Frank raised an eyebrow but then went on. We’re riding on Lawrence tomorrow. It’s an old haunt of ours. We’re outlawed there so we mostly want to show our faces for fun and authority. Meet us back here in a week with your extra ammo gear and Injun. We’ll see what you’re made of then in Bloody Kansas. Henry forced a smile and shook hands once again with Frank James. He was hesitant to turn his back and walk away. Frank was waiting for just that. Chaska could see Henry walking back to his hill. He already guessed an arrangement… but he would make Henry suffer for it later. Of all the white men to make friends with Chaska drew the prize. Thabo and Chaska worried about Henry. He wasn’t the same since the last mission and Tesla went crazy and fell in love with a bird. They had to force Henry to go back to sea.
Punta was screaming for her pilot and Henry was in his prompter box below delivering his dinner to the slop jar. Henry stepped to the bridge and feeble old Henry pushed the terrified girl out of her chair with ease and his hands fell to the cyclic and collective from muscle memory of another place and time… another war… Henry was looking intently toward where the spinnaker should have been but he couldn’t see or hear anything. The lad on Mast 1 was invisible and silent as well and there was a light in the grey eyeball at two o’clock high to port. On this part of the Atlantic at this time of day with this kind of perfect storm it could have been the sun… but it wasn’t. They were beyond the atmosphere by now in deep space… inside a bubble of unimaginable voltage. It was the gatehouse portal and they arrived approximately two miles above the battle. No guns could shoot that far at the time… even vertically.
Stand up Captain. The crew needs to see you… if any are left aboard. Take her down to 1000 feet- use only enough power to stay buoyant. They will not see us. Nest in the treetops until night while I check below. Look sharp now. I still want no weapons aboard ordered Punta. Henry thought of their torpedoes below where Henry stashed his sabre and the street map that held the knowledge like a London cabbie. My advice is to head for Atlanta under wind power but you will not take my advice. I looked overboard with the fancy telescope you dropped while you were chewing on the back of me goddam leg. I saw your guns of august in 1915. You were dodging naval gunfire and aircraft my pretty little fool. Carlyle isn’t coming back and neither is Konrad and neither are you if I have to land this god damned ghost ship alone.
While seas roll on in laughter.
Jingo Minstrel
Guerrilla Birthing
Now do you know of Avalon
That sailors call Japan? …She holds as rare a chivalry
As ever bled for man
There were cold sharp stars the morning of the battle. The sky was deep illuminated indigo blue at the bottom of the east horizon indicating the sun had completed its journey over china. But the stars were sharp and cold although the morning was muggy and humid as the larks and whippoorwills tuned up. Pony was saddled and laughing as the guns awakened her. Anybody who does not see the hand of God in this is crazy. Those who do are even crazier. It was like Jubal’s Tigers were perusing Henry personally up this same ribbon of York Pike all night long and although this was not true Henry knew how fast and silent these people were and it gave him the crawling creeps.
The differences between Henry and Quantrill were many considering how each went at life. Henry was a true mercenary in that he would, indeed do anything for a substantial payoff. Quantrill would do anything for any payoff, whether it be substantial or pittance. William Quantrill equated boredom with need. From childhood on he recognized his own abilities to redirect the emotional. He tortured domestic animals for a pastime. When he needed shelter or food, he simply took those from others. Family was useless and cumbersome. Bullying all those in his vicinity was easy for him because it came naturally, and being fully responsible for himself led to him becoming increasingly alone. Until he began to become a human magnet for those like him.
In his late adolescence, he became aware that he had the additional need of a woman. He just took one. It wasn’t hard for him to find one who was neglected to the point of being interested in anyone who made eye contact with her. This just made it easier for him to make her dependent upon him, whereupon she built her own imaginary prison walls. When he felt the urge to abuse another living thing, she was always at the ready. Eventually, she was able to call this love. He called it convenience. The one emotion he found himself catering to was hate. People around him loved to try to impose. If they came up with an idea, they always needed folks around them to activate it, realize it, and bear witness to it.
Henry… said the little voice. Henry… it was the voice of a little girl weak with cholera. Henry it said. It was in the middle of a still grey sphere like you encounter at sea during the doldrums. The steamships could be heard for miles unless there was an acoustic shadow whatever the hell that is. You can hear little waves lapping at the hull and the deep foghorn voices like bullfrogs this last morning of June 1863. Or is it July. This part of Pennsylvania has firecrackers but no war. But it is definitely coming this way and Henry mounted up and panic rose in his heart sizzling red with a barbed wire crown over a fire in the belly.
That weird and dreadful band
Be aught but what we find them here:—
The blasters of the land?
Quantrill used his public hours in watch of the imposition of others. He in turn, imposed himself, placing an invisible boundary around his person. His expression alone discouraged most from invading that sacred space. Watching the others as they coerced, used and forced those around them into their systems of implied civility, awakened the hate in him until he was engulfed in anger. Nurturing this anger occasionally resulted in his acting out in rage. His reputation began to interest a few more like him who had a similar low tolerance for governance. It was difficult to get close to an individual such as Quantrill. He trusted no one. He had the utmost disdain for friendly overtures. He appeared to relish being solitary.
One night at camp, while roasting a boar at the campfire, one of his men called Carlyle attempted to strike up a conversation with him. Sure is strange that folks regular give up what’s theirs when threatened, ain’t it, Quantrill didn’t look at him, just took his knife from his belt and sliced a fatty piece of meat from the roasting animal. He transferred it to a long fire fork and sat down with it waiting for it to cool enough to eat it. The man who evidently thought silence to be awkward, tried again. So. In that line of thought, maybe we should split the proceeds at’ween us now. You know, being accountable for our own. Again, Quantrill ignored the man. He was whittling the burnt skin off the chunk of meat. Carlyle began to get a little nervous. Yeah, now…..I talked to the men about it, an’ they says you still collectin’ and will split at the beginnin’ o’the month.
An’ that’s ok with me but my woman needs feed for the farm…. Quantrill sat eating the meat he’d been working on while Carlyle decided to leave the conversation where it lay. Then, slowly, Quantrill got up, went to the fire and held the fork into the flames and turned back to walk toward Carlyle with the fire fork glowing like a branding iron. Carlyle figured it out and made a run for his horse. It took him two tries but got up bareback and struggled to reach the reins he left dangling from where he had hastily freed them. As Carlyle turned horse and dug his heels in to flee, Quantrill had reached the side of the horse and branded it with the flat side of the fork. The horse whinnied and took off, leaving Carlyle hanging on to reins and mane for his life. None in the party was to see him again for a very long time.
There is death in the bargain and a quick one at that… although at the price of insufferable pain and horror. A handsome profit is to be had if one avoids the bargain using slingshot effect like one coasts up the other side to grind an Ollie on our adult gestalt, and Henry had no use for that today. Ollie Howard was up ahead and Ewell was the pointing index finger of Robert E. Lee and the Confederate army jabbing between Henry’s shoulder blades. The Jingo and the Minstrel were headed for the spark gap where the railroad met the pike and there was sure to be something umbra penumbra be damned it was apogee and perigee that concerned Henry now. A thin little voice asks a question in his mind as they roll… Henry? Henry?
Henry hugged Pony’s warm round barrel body with his knees and listened.
Tho church bells do not sound,
And weave the bands of brotherhood
On Jimmu Tenno’s ground.
Spirit Wind
Hate and Greed
Who thus warned the revellers:—
Henry and the Captain have a strange relationship. Not strange. Weird. One invisible hand clapping and your Sherlock Homeboy is showing. You’re looking at my uniform. Civil War. I know. You are a gunner. Yessir XI Corps Dilger battery and there are no batteries aboard the Dart. How did you know she was the Dart and how did you get aboard. I followed the cat. Not so fast. She has no markings. She is a beat up old tub in Agway harbor everybody knows as the Dutchman. Well we’re going back to Gettysburg and that’s for sure. And how do you know about the portal. This is not my first voyage aboard the Tallahassee.
Henry and Chaska got off the raft at a fairly new dock in a growing little town. A small sign carved out of wood marked Little Rock Creek next to the dock where it met land and the Mississippi. The Indian made a spectacle of himself by the creek as he blessed himself in his unique way. He circled his arms toward himself and breathed deeply as if trying to inhale the Spirit wind by the creek. In doing so, Chaska drew the immediate attention of the townspeople. Many spirits are here Henry. This is a sacred place…a portal Chaska said to no one in particular. The hawk flew to a bush and scouted.
She carries no name now you know- and a million flags. You said voyage. We have a mission aboard the Dart. We going to save the union. There is a war brewing in northern Europe and the Captain wants to take a look at it. Henry says not to talk about our mission. Anybody who looks at the captain usually doesn’t come back. It’s nineteen oh five jack. We have developed things at our little campus Schatzenputz that are miles ahead of our modern science. She journeys nowhere and everywhere all at the same time. Captain says we have a mission. Henry is aboard now and the Dart goes from background noise to vibration.
Yeah yeah said Henry I can feel it. He said this out of respect for Chaska not sure what he felt but he did feel something. He looked around them at what promised to be a budding little town. He’d been here before he was sure. They decided to walk south along the river away from town and found themselves to be trespassing on a massive front lawn. Damn it to hell… Henry saw a man hastily striding toward them from a new mansion at the far end of the riverfront lawn. The mansion was a resemblance of a southern plantation house not unlike Daisy’s.
Henry is about to be sick. It is the anticipating the dentist drilling that hits a nerve… inflicting an exquisite kind of pain… that drives people mad. Henry felt that pain before the battle and avoided it ever since. Henry surfed too close to the war at Antietam and won prizes and it was that wave of hubris that he rode with Daisy to Gettysburg. She makes the low vibration now that Thabo can’t stand. So it’s for sure he’s not aboard the Dart now. Each note is like a lanyard jerk da 12 lb brass napoleon- snap thud etc. Cap snap and the turbines scream so loud Chaska lightning bolts ashore in the opposite direction of the cat. The Flying Dutchman is about to launch.
They decided to walk south along the river away from town and found themselves to be trespassing on a massive front lawn. All Henry could think of was to get his hands on some land before its growth, as he knew what it was to become. He was very happily excited. He set his sights on making a very worthwhile new friend. It had no portico columns, but only simple six by six beams to support the porch roof. Henry couldn’t see farmland attached other than a household garden. Not a working plantation, he thought. There were Negroes on the porch, but he saw no fields nearby for their hard labor. He wondered about the side of the house he could not see.
Pain you can prepare for but no one is prepared for the horror. It is a little pink cloud that pops into your reality and BLAST away all your senses at once. What is left is the sense you remember. Most remember hearing nothing but loud. Others can remember hearing a cricket at their feet when firing a volley. Henry had the sight of the battle flash into his brain forever and it will not die with Henry. Long before the battle Henry sat astride Pony and watched the boys drill for hours. What Carl said was brilliant but Carl was always fidgeting with his horse. The long roll thrilled Henry to the core line of battle with the gunners singing the loading litinay.
Be cold as the dew
So as not to appear to have the wrong intentions, they walked toward the man in a slow and friendly manor. The man relaxed his gait somewhat in response. Henry held out a hand in greeting and explained himself, at the same time wishing Chaska had appeared a little less native. We don’t mean to intrude on private property. We’re just simply following the river south a bit, as a hike of the area, if you will allow us to pass on through… I’m Henry and this is my translator Chaska. Theodore Kimm. Pleased to make your acquaintance said the man with a heavy German accent.
General Early sat on his horse like a bag of flour. Their roll was feeble but their rifles were sharp. Jubal’s boys could shoot. His Louisiana Tigers were the most vicious close quarter fighters he had ever seen since coming off the plains with the Indians and their brain-scattering war clubs raining droplets in wet terror darkness. Leapfrogging rifle range and throat blood is cannon range and Henry learned all about that from Hubert Dilger of the IX Corps Union Army. When Henry arrived at Gettysburg, Dilger seemed to be the only sane person present. Henry was heading for Cemetery Hill enjoying the play.
Ach! Henry exclaimed with a genuine joy. Deutscher! Meine Heimat auch Henry said pumping Theodore’s hand vigorously. Willkommen! Kimmann say come in for a refreshment bitte! Danke. Danke. Just for a short time. And the translator Chaska looked at Henry sternly with a sideways look. Kimm looked Chaska over and awkwardly said it (and too quietly of course of course). Right this way please. Chaska held his ground. Henry, accompanying Kimm, rather exuberantly, stopped and motioned to Chaska for him to come along. Chaska still held his ground. I will be at the river. My Hawk ancestor is in the trees and I wait here with him in solitude and heavy thought.
The dialogue was superb and the sets were stunning and the band was playing and the horses were prancing. To his abject horror… Henry found himself on center stage with the curtain rising exactly where a technician is not supposed to be. Gatehouse panic. Henry walked away from the battle like Otzi from the Alps but that is another story. The Gettysburg Buddha formed when the battle was quickening and took on the personality of the battle. It made a pattern so particular and specific and precise and granular it went down all the way into the bugs and up to the stars like a snapshot. Henry learned snap shooting as a hunter.
Once they had passed, Chaska found himself hoping that Henry would cut the shit and join him. The hawk had flown down to eye level, his own eyes looking toward the direction in which the riders had headed. Chaska saw vigilance and fear in the eyes of the hawk. He stood and walked back to the edge of the manicured lawn in front of a tree line and put up his right fist again. The hawk’s talons grasped Chaska’s fist and he comfortably perched there until once again being brought down to chest level. Again, blood trickled down Chaska’s arm. He cursed and he saw the bird laugh at him.
The two of them posed together like that for another half hour staring at the mansion until Chaska had successfully willed Henry to come back out and join the hawkeyes. Henry waved in earnest as he walked quickly toward them. Chaska knew he was going to have to inform Henry that they were to have very dangerous work on this side of the river. He knew such things. Henry had a cache of knowledge from his visit with Theodore Kimm. As they picked up the trail once again to the south Henry explained the Missouri slavery situation and how the Missouri abolitionists dealt with the southern sympathizers.
Give the engines room.
Henry took a 300lb wild boar with a spear… on the ground… back in the old country when his father and the Baron watched the proceedings from a safe distance on horseback. Only the Baron’s aide stood by with hunting rifle. Henry’s father looked on with interest without even his gross Messer near. Henry used the skills the old Landsknechts taught his boyhood in the lumber camps in Germany. All Henry could think about was how he should have been holding the Baron’s rifle instead of this jack wad stranger he didn’t know.
Westward expansion was at an all-time high and St. Louis, as gateway to the west, was economically expanding exponentially. Many of the Indians were assisting the pioneers in their migrations westward so far, and many of the territories were looking toward statehood. There seemed to be something for everyone. Except the south. Aside from the challenge for Henry to help stop the economic collapse of those states south of Mason Dixon, he found his job centered around slowing any further advancement of Union troops. This could be done with the passing of more false reports on the movements from the south.
Chaska listened to Henry’s garbling and silently stopped walking. Henry missing a shadow, turned and looked at him as he stood defiantly a few yards back on the trail. From the trees the hawk screamed Chaska Henry said. My ancestors rose with the Spirit Wind to the sky as riders passed while you were busy with your new friend. They were surrounded by the evil spirits of Hate and Greed, and even those spirits tried to run from these men. They are not here for any good. All should be afraid. The Great Spirit said it is for us to interfere with their work. Again the hawk screamed.
Henry was paying too much attention to the pig. The jack wad stranger holding the Baron’s gun was none other than Christoph… the Baron’s real son. Henry dispatched the pig to get to the drama unfolding around the Baron, his son and the horses. Riding was a big deal among the hunting party and Henry’s knowledge of horses gave him an edge he didn’t realize at the time. Punta listened to all this but her patience was gone. She needed her pilot right now and her tears were of anger and frustration. They were in a big grey sphere now…
Speed and altitude were out of control.
With hearts like the stars,
With hearts like the stars.
BUDDING ROSE
SHALL UNFOLD!
I asked the old Negro, “What is that bird that sings so well?” He answered: “That is the Dixie-Daisy.” “Hasn’t it another name, lark, or thrush, or the like?” “No. Jus’ Dixie-Daisy.”
“Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet. Love and glory, Stars and rain, Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet….”
Chaska Thabo and Henry sat round once again. You should hear what the old fuckers are talking about now. They got plans. They always got plans. Chaska and Thabo squinted at Henry. What you think this isn’t planned. Always the economy… say big man… cutting the deck. Chaska reached for the ships and the deckhands started to gossip. She was the skinny little girl we all watched grow up. We know THUMP said C&T simultaneously… like they said it a million times before. They be good company, the C&T, but never aboard the Dart when she goes weird because C&T would come apart. Punta glared at the crowd and they scatter like roaches.
Henry left Daisy and her plantation at the end of April and was hired out of New Orleans. He would be working along the Mississippi River for an undisclosed organization who had financial interests that weren’t to be disturbed by either the Confederates or Union Armies. It was Henry’s responsibility to ensure that business as usual was not to be interrupted and he was to use any means possible to accomplish his tasks. In the morning, Henry was determined to cross over to Missouri to scout out Confederate activity. There were ferries but they were heavily monitored by both sides… on both sides. Henry worked them himself regularly and Missouri was a crap shoot. The state had no grip on authoritative control and war leanings were a free-for-all.
Although the Union support was much more substantial there than for the south, the Confederate volunteers, as might be surmised, had a cruel and bloodthirsty edge to them. Just then a youthful looking fellow in his mid-twenties came out of the woods with fishing pole pack and basket. Might I help you gentlemen. His smile under that unkempt looking mustache was contagious. Henry putting any aggression aside stepped off the raft. Chaska followed. Oh hey! We were actually looking for a ferry nearby. Would you happen to point us to the closest one. Well depends on where you’re going said the young man. I’m actually visiting relatives in St. Louis. Current… you know pushed me south a bit. From Hannibal, hundred miles north, but moving west with my brother to Nevada Territory next week. Thought I owed it to the relatives to say goodbye you know how it is.
I know about that Henry answered. He didn’t know about that at all. We aren’t going anywhere in particular just thought we’d look over the Missouri side for adventure. Not really believing him, Henry looked for Chaska to show concern. All he got from him was his usual display of spirit talk. He had a reverent stance about him at the water’s edge, eyes closed and head tilted backwards. He looked like he was smelling the wind then he squatted threw a fist full of dirt to the north wind and made a circle in the mud. Henry and the river pilot then watched Chaska slowly stand bow his head and then slowly open his eyes to look at them. Henry said. Watch this. Chaska turned mechanically toward the north, held his right fist in the air for what seemed to be two solid minutes. Silently, magically, a hawk flew out of the trees and landed on his fist.
A trickle of blood made a little path down his arm that he bent to bring the bird close to his chest where he quietly stroked it. A lone feather fell to the ground and Thabo ran to get it. The three men and hawk and all their gear climbed on board the raft, and the young man turned to introduce himself. So hey. Please call me Sam. Last name Clemens untied his ropes and poled them out into the current. Worked the rudder professionally and chuckled while the Indian and his new friend Henry horsed around with each other while he expertly got them across. Without the leadsman he was used to while piloting the much bigger riverboats, he knew firsthand the depths where the mark twain was: the two fathoms needed for the big boats, but certainly not for the draft of their raft.
At full power the Dart emits a thunder hum Thabo can’t stand plus a hypersonic scream that makes Chaska come unglued. I met you at Antietam recalls Thabo. Ante up girls say Chaska remembering the Great Plains when the war started. Depends on which war you speak of raised Chaska. It was fucking Mount Airy plantation Richmond Virginia April 1860 miss daisy may i sign your dance card have no dance card. Hush. She’ll hear you. That was long before Antietam. And long after the Blackhawk War. None of us would go near the place. Punta scattered the deck officers with the same cat-eyed stare.
As the men climbed off on the other side where there was a new settlement under construction, Samuel had this one thought to himself. If I ever finally write about those two boys growing up on this river, I’m going to use Thabo and Chaska as Jim the runaway slave and Injun Joe. Had all kinds of ideas as he walked the docks looking for a tow to the north. Great Depression was not planned like the Great Plains. She is casting off for the Dart’s next mission whispered the invisible hand. What the hell- said the old Norfolk man standing up and brushing off pants.
She’s the CSS Tallahassee as sure as I’m alive. Some saw her tall masts others saw she was stacked. Punta was striding toward the bridge. Others saw nothing at all except the ships pussy going in like a photon sniggered the young lad. You don wanna be here after dark boy… when you see the ball lightning dendrites and Holy gaps snap. Mother of God. Hail mary fullof GrAcEthElorDisWiHtEE. Shoosh everybody did crazy shit in the war. But how we got here… not quite right. Weird.
It aint fittin
I am caught in the web the night-winds spin.
The edge of the wheat-ridge speaks to me.
I talk with the leaves of the mulberry tree.
Mean Moon
Ozone and Brimstone
Mayday mayday; off Savannah GA. 1861
Yours is our cause to-day.
Watching your foes
Here in our war array
A year after Mount Airy plantation Richmond, Virginia, April 1860
Last week at sea I fucked our cabin boy in the ass. Chaska was nonplused. Thabo shook his head. Nigger please. Watchoo doin on those long nights at sea. Trying to sort things out. That is for dream time noted Chaska. White people don’t dream Thabo snapped at Chaska. Boys please. My deal as usual. Shakedown cruise. Had me shaken in my shoes then starlight lost in the night drift away and it feels alright. You must stay on course noted Chaska with grim certainty. What course burped Thabo looking at his hand. You get in wicked trouble. Ace of spades assholes. Chaska threw down diamonds. Clubs as usual goddammit said Henry.
South Carolina had just seceded from the United States. The growing Confederacy of the south had not been taken seriously enough by northern interests until it was too late. By then Major Anderson had loosely staffed Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor for the Union army, thinking they would have the strategic advantage for the north. Again underestimating southern sentiments, the understaffed fort was easily brought down by the South Carolina Militia by their numbers alone. The cutting off of supplies to the fort ultimately enabled the retreat of the Union Army and the return of Charleston Harbor. Port Royal Island proved to be easily protected by the growing Union presence. They never interfered with the town’s commerce and this was to their advantage. For the time at hand, they conveniently ignored the surrounding issue of slavery.
The Dart materialized on the day of surrender of Fort Sumter. Henry was unprepared for the constant boarding and searching of his vessel by the South Carolina Militia. Suspecting the Dart to be a supply ship for the Union Army, the militia annoyed Henry with constant interruption at sea while trying to get Daisy ashore and inland to a safe and quiet resumption of the life she loved as she used to know it. Henry, behind her pillow, spoke as softly as he knew how, so as not to startle her. He was concerned as to her lengthy time at being drugged. Daisy, do not be concerned. It’s Henry, I’m sitting behind you. We’re going back to your Georgia plantation, he rose and came into her line of vision and she immediately tried to force herself up. He went on. Wait my dear. Just stay in a lying position for awhile. They tell me the anesthesia causes powerful headaches.
The Indian came over with some oranges and handed her one which she grabbed instantly. She kept gathering up her clothes around her that were too ample for her slim body. This time when she tried to talk, words formed in an untidy spew of garble. Henry. Not here. There. Where’s Georgia. It will take some getting used to, but we have gone back somewhat in time Daisy. I’m glad you recognize me. Where’s Georgia. Just to the south of here is Savannah. We’ll take a coach to Savannah, then a train to Atlanta and a coach home. Where are we now. We’re in Beaufort, South Carolina. The southern states have separated from the northern United States and we are presently in the only town in the south that appears to be occupied by northern soldiers. I’m leaving my boat here. We need to leave here the minute you are well enough. Henry, but where did we come from. I’ve lost memory. How did we get to this boat.
They found a busy little tea room that served sandwiches and located two seats against the wall near the rear where they would draw less attention. A lone Union soldier in uniform followed behind them and found they had gotten the last table. Henry asked him to join them with a most dazzling smile adding to his countenance. The old Daisy was slowly returning as she looked agitated by Henry’s opportunism. I thank you for the invitation to dine with you as I’m very short of time. My name is William Sherman. I’m Henry and this is my sister Daisy Henry said extending his hand to William, while Daisy made a face and rolled her eyes.
All that the white hand mars.
See the dead east
Crushed with the iron cars—
I am told many captains fuck their cabin boys. I can’t see it continued Thabo. I can said Chaska and raise you two. Double or nothing grinned Henry. You like the skull on our old flag say stone face Chaska. Fucking the cabin boy is smack nigger. It was her idea mumbled Henry toward Thabo (meaning no one in particular). She worked the deck topless in the heat as do any cabin boy. We sailed with her Henry. We know. Does not excuse anything scrunched Chaska and raise you two. I wasn’t looking for excuses mumbled Henry picking up a card. I am talking about the cultural development of mammary glands.
And there I was with Daisy playing cards with Billy Sherman. You bluff like girl. Me give more chips says Chaska. Tecumseh. Panther in the sky. Lightning War Club. They don’t let no niggers in the front door there, no sir, say Thabo opening Chaska’s funk bottle. Fuck you too nigger Jim. I saw something the last voyage out. You been a pilot. You know. Crazy Horse god da mint screaming from Red Mountain in Georgia. Indian wants a beer in here. The moon looks mean and the crew ain’t staying there’s gonna be some blood is what they’re all saying. Punta’s presence was like electrified ozone and brimstone.
Henry and Daisy and headed toward a clothing store for a very limited two sets of clothing for each of them, paid for by a gold pocket watch Henry had come across in Switzerland. The merchant had never seen anything like it and was generous in bartering with them. Henry needed to find something else to barter in order to get them passage to Savannah. In Savannah, he hoped to find some of his old friends alive who could loan him funds until he could get Daisy back home. It would be then that he would offer his services once again to the highest bidder, regardless of cause.
The shipyard was busy with Union business and Henry’s vessel had northern identification on it. He felt reasonably secure with leaving it there, its appearance so foreign that onlookers would suspect it to be experimentally military. Amidst the others at dock there, it looked formidable in its slip. The Indian and giant were busy securing items to below deck where they were able to lock them in flush and hidden compartments. Henry rummaged for any valuables and found what he needed. He and Daisy were on their way to Savannah and looked liked they belonged there. The two men left on board would follow when a couple of horses became available. They would be on nightwatch for them. The south was beginning to boil.
‘Tis Daylight again on Angela’s Ashes waving particle bored coal ash precipitating down find the cost of freedom buried in the ground . Jager again at last… Henry flashes the thunder of Captain Blitzen- a character Punta made up for herself in the mirror while everybody was busy watching the battle. The artifacts we leave behind are deadly weapons. Mine hoot. SS Dixie Daisy seemed alone and forlorn in Cincinnati… but she is still very much Queen of the Ohio. If Thabo ever wanted live on a boat it would be that one since he owned it anyway. But it’s nineteen oh five you wheat bread heads. We had dozens like her before the war. But seeing her here now is kinder creepy. Like your crazy orange cat Chaska shivered, fanning out his hand. Like your stone ghost pony Thabo folded. Punta lay down hearts and broke up the game.
Punta looked at Chaska and Thabo. Two of you will be ashore when we cast off. She looked at Henry.
Not you Henry.
Chanting your cause that day,
Red-men, new-made
Out of the Saxon clay,
Strong and redeemed,
Bold in your war-array!
Quiet Place
Inside Victory
Ere his manhood was ripe
The buoys had no way of knowing this would be their last time together aboard the Dart. Chaska Thabo and Henry talked about the war when she was the CSS Tallahassee and the different reasons they each wanted to have her. Chaska wanted the crew of course. Thabo imagined what she could do on the river and Henry was driven by speed as usual. The deck of cards remained untouched on the chart table that was now Henry’s desk. The war was over 40 years ago and they were getting old and addled according to the kids. That’s right. Talking about the kids. It’s what old people do.
Henry sent Karl back to New York. He did this without explaining the ultimate functions of the Dart. Karl’s new commission was to get Daisy to a safe place, away from Albert and anyone in his organization. Karl pleaded his concerns, many of them obvious. First of all, he made it clear to Henry that Daisy did not only dislike Karl, she cringed as she passed him on the street. Albert had mentioned to Karl, with great amusement, that Daisy never even wanted to be in the same building with that man, no less to be forced into his company in the very same room. It became a regular source of laughter…
Almost too big for the river, just big enough for the ocean… none of them liked being on the water, but with Chaska aloft and Thabo below and Henry at the wheel they made a killing when they were in their prime- although each digested their prey in a slightly different way. The boys met independently during the war, occasionally operated that way when the war broke out… but after the war the Buoys came together as a crew. Black Thabo rumbled like a mountain and broke wind and silence first. I come here for reason; he growled. And you goanna listen. There was no doubt about that. Not at all. Karl chimed in.
Henry you and your friends are…..this is too much boat for you at your age. You need your crew. After Norfolk, we’ll be just fine. When you’re safe ashore, we’re headed for Charleston, but in a better time. You see, Karl, you aren’t just on board the speed boat of the future. This is a vessel with the capabilities to fly us back in time. And into the future, just for fun. We’ll meet again, but Miss LaCroix, myself and my two old friends here, will be years younger. And in our time period, chances are you aren’t even yet born. Even if this were possible, what of your knowledge what of your life… Henry fully believed his own plan.
It set us apart
Chaska is the best translator. Arriving in full-blown regalia of the big Sioux chief Indian warrior he was, Chaska had become a lawyer and directed Henry’s Schatzenputz campus and industry with skill and precision. He is an omniscient presence everywhere at port Schatzenputz and few ever saw him unless they were taking advanced classes. Chaska set his hawk in front of Henry. That is the best hawk ever gasped Henry. It is, and now you are going to listen to Thabo grinned Chaska. Tears welled up in Henry’s eyes. This is the first time Henry had ever seen Chaska grin and Henry felt the Weird coming on.
Karl began to back away, thinking the old man had gone totally mad. Meanwhile the two old guys were untying ropes and tossing them on deck, the old boat pulling away from the dock as if normally. Henry winked at him and manned the wheel, turning to smile insanely back and forth as he kept watch to port and starboard and deftly entered the harbor. When clear of the traffic of the harbor, he turned south and cranked her engines to a scream. Karl could feel the ship levitating but in a tremor over the turbulence below. They were in Norfolk in half an hour’s time. And all seemed to be up to date in that part of Virginia.
He gladly disembarked in Norfolk and nervously saluted the three old men as they sailed once again to the south. In a quarter of an hour, they were under full sail, entering Charleston Harbor. It was April 14th, 1861. Chaska your hawk truly shines. And you can bury it in my skull before I let that girl aboard my ship. Tears (of rage or what) streamed down Henry’s face. She was fine as a cabin boy. But as Captain. Aboard my Dart. In battle. Goddam you all to hell. Thabo laid his hand down so hard pine knots popped out paneling all over the world. The locals thought it was thunder and looked up at the clear sky. God dammit Henry. I own this place. And VonHot number whaterthefuck and all that shit. Chaska decided. I paid for it. You gonna do it…all that it is. Henry was blubbering by now.
Face it Henry. You a homeless penniless old man who couldn’t throw fart through a gunny. Henry slowly covered his face with his hands. Henry had few hands left and now he was playing them all. Like Grant Lee and Lincoln leaning in and whispering at Appomattox. The deck officers present became shadows on the wall, became ghosts and faded. We don’t want each other the way we are now. We want each other the way we were before the battle. But you know Daisy. She will take whatever fortune gives her. And you know me. Double or nothing.
The boss is on a roll lads. Thabo come up to the darkroom with a mug and a hug and a voice soft as any girl.
BUDDING ROSE SHALL UNFOLD!
Angle of Attack
Prophesy
high speed rail
Mew, mew, mew.
June 29: near Camp Hill- 1863
Goddam dutchman snorts Jenkins upon seeing Henry. Hello General! I figure you come this way hunter der big moon. And now you tell all the damnyankees say Jenkins. They know. Just not all of them yet. Time is on your side General. Give my complements to General Early. Me and Jubilee got plans. Here come your horse batteries yonder. I plans to take you prisoner. Again Jenkins said to the dutchman who was gone. Noting verbal instructions carefully, Jenkens rode on. Heard this one before pops. I met Karl finally in South Carolina. Come port two degrees. They replaced my little wheel with ball and socket control you use now. Two degrees goddammit
The Dart was just outside the view of the Danish mainland, quite a bit to the north of where one of Cecil’s naval vessels had last seen it two weeks prior. Repositioning as needed due to wind currents, she was still close enough to land to force port entry conventionally if storms were imminent. If that were found to be impossible, she could vaporize to the other side of the world, if needed. For the time being, she was in wait for a sizeable vessel to come upon her distress flag so that she might come about supplies. Yes Karl added carefully and her crew. She’s well talked about, you know. I’d be honored to see her, if you deem it acceptable.
On the Dart, Henry was gambling against the crew- all in drunken stupors and in spurts of rage. Once he ran out of money he started using crew members as bets, to which they laughed and secured Henry til morning. He went peacefully, but screaming, MUTINY throughout the ship as they dragged him below. Most of them did not know that they could indeed go ashore. The Dart was no ghost ship, but a Time Machine, and he would sort out the whole business to the entire crew in good time. Henry was still deciding who he would keep on as crew first, which meant he had to sort himself out prior to such vetting. Chaska would have hawked him. Thabo would have snatched his head off. Nah. The crazy old fucker would have shot them both by now.
Henry’s cabin was more like a prompter box, an ideal place to work. You can see the workings below and watch the fly gallery aloft. You have the script the play is hot… ideal place for a pilot to be. But who needs a pilot when the captain can find port unassisted. No. This is ancient history. Henry always hated the ocean but he had the soul of a scout. And now he was barfing in a bucket wishing he could die. Punta squinted and twisted up her mouth (he saw it in the mirror). She uses vast amounts of power when the transformers are used. Hell- back when she was the Chameleon we had 100hp steam but yards of sail and we were the fastest boat in the world. There are not enough horses in the world to even keep us stationary now notes Punta.
Mew, mew, mew.
Dilger had nothing like the Hotchkiss gun. We developed it and after the war I gave him one. Now you’re four degrees off the heading are you blind. I am without a pilot goddamit scream Punta. We developed the dongle to keep a 45 degree lean maximum And now I want to erg. Henry had barf. In –the-mouth. Gulp. Hit it! Outstanding. Smack dead nuts on course. Hold steady. Two degrees starboard. One degree port, Damn you’re good. Punta says she took the liberty of removing deck guns and torpedoes. What the hell (gulp). Henry could feel the Weird coming on. We don’t need them silly man. Speed is life. The fever’s hot, the winds are blowin’ cold Punta portalae put fear in your soul hear it cryin’ Lord let this end. You know I’ll never go to sea again
Feeling unreliable due to the whisky, he looked for Henry to exhibit the same symptoms. It was when he first noticed that Henry’s cup had been untouched. Henry had all the advantages over him and yet somehow he felt safe and at ease. If Henry would have him, Karl would be honored to add himself as additional protection to his crew. Tell me one more thing Henry was looking worriedly at his two older friends and then returned his gaze to Karl and finished. There was an older woman in Albert’s care. Do you know if she’s still there. We met in passing just once answered Karl. But it was then that he knew that he and Henry had at least one difference, because at least Henry, indeed, had a loved one. Karl could not only see it , but feel it, in his face.
And knelt before her all the while—
Mew, mew, mew.
waldopaper 
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