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JOHNNY REB IN 'SHADOW' Part 5
Character by Tim Frady Story by Wayne Clayton
When a man returns to his home town after been away for years on end it's no surprise he should find himself seeing the ghosts of yester year around every familar corner, but as Johnny Reb now stood on the porch sheltering from the pouring rain he now found himself looking into the eyes of a young woman who he knew to be long since dead. A woman who even if she was alive should have been old and bent with the passage of time.
Behind the figure in the door Moses appeared and with his hand waved the young women away.
"Come on girl make way for Mr Rebbeck, let the man in before he catches his death of cold"
With the way clear Johnny stepped into the warmth and carefully slipped off his rain coat. With another wave of his hand Moses signalled for the girl to take Johnny's coat.
Moses could see the look on Johnny's face as he handed over his things.
"This is my young un Suzy, Aint she a picture?"
Johnny looked again at the young woman and found with some relief that in the flickering gas light the ghost that had greeted him now was flesh and bone and was not Sarah, but the fact remained that she was the spitting image of the woman he once knew.
" Now, now come sit by the fire a while an' take the chill out of them bones"
Smiling Johnny seated himself by the roaring flames of the small hearth. Across from him Moses eased himself down into his rocking chair.
"Suzy, go and get Mr Rebbeck a drink, some of the 'good' stuff."
The girl disappeared into the back leaving Moses and Johnny alone,
The old man leaned in towards Johnny and began to speak in a low whisper.
" It's my own special recipe, since the town went dry booze is hard to come by in these parts. Your going have to get use to the mountain dew"
He gave a rye smile and took the bottle Suzy handed him and poured the clear liquid into two small short glasses.
With a flick of the wrist the old man knocked back the drink and drew a sharp intake of air as the fire hit the back of his throat. Johnny took the glass and did like wise, and almost at once felt the tang of neat spirit peel away his taste buds which even his mighty strength couldn't defend against.
The old man laughed as Johnny's face grimaced.
"I knew you'd like it"
But the old man's words were lost on Johnny Reb. Instead of his voice all he could hear was the pounding of his blood running through his veins. A pounding which grew louder and louder, until suddenly it seemed to burst forth and transform itself into the thundering gait of a galloping horse.
The lightening flashed high above Johnny as he drove his spurs into the flanks of his trusted steed. Not even the wind and rain could slow Bullet as he tore up the sodden earth beneath his feet. Steam rising from his flesh as the heat made contact with the cold water which struck him.
Johnny too was soaked to the skin. His once light grey uniform was now stained dark, and his broad rimmed hat did little to stop the rain from blinding his vision. His faith in Bullets memory of the way home eased his mind, unlike the message which had greeted him on his return to camp.
For three days he had raced against the elements,passing endless collums of weather beaten men marching north towards the ever shifting frontline. They like him had heard the call to arms against the armies of the North. But the war would have to wait. The note had been brief but Sarah's cry for help was none the less clear, his father had been struck down with a 'sickness' and she begged him to return at once for fear that it might be too late otherwise.
Now as he entered the final leg of the journey the storm clouds had begun to gather as the night set in. And with it the fear that he would arrive to late to make his peace with his father in what might be his final hours upon this earth.
Moses quietly sat back into his chair and watched Johnny as the 'good stuff' did its work.It was no ordinary Moonshine which had struck Johnny dumb. Moses had only ever used this potion once before on a man who had deserved nothing less for the crimes he had committed, and now as he watched Johnny's fingers gripping tight the arms of the chair he could but wondered why his Ma had deemed it necessary to make a man whom she had always told him was a good man to take a concoction which would condem him to experience those memories of which even the creatures of nightmares would flee screaming. Just what crimes had this 'good' man committed in the dark days of his youth?
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