An Acquaintance with Darkness - Ann Rinaldi [94]
A distance away she conferred with the man. His face was close to hers. From our side of the gate the people shouted at the soldiers. "Let the woman go! Stanton doesn't need to hang a woman!" The soldiers stood guard, stone-faced, carbines poised across their chests. A distance behind them I saw other soldiers approaching.
Annie was conferring with the captain. I saw her nod and smile weakly, then he led her back to the gate. The soldiers opened it and slipped her through and locked it.
She walked and spoke like someone in a trance. "That was Captain Rath. He's the hangman," she said dully. "He said Generals Hancock and Hartranft, who are running things, want him to stall as long as he can. They're still hoping for a messenger from the president."
Uncle Valentine drew her aside and pulled a flask out of his pocket. "Have some water, Annie," he said. She took some. I saw her lift the flask and the water dribble down her chin. Then we waited some more.
Robert drew me aside. "Are you sure you want to see this?"
"I must stay with Annie," I said.
He nodded and took my hand. He squeezed it.
"If it were my mother, I wouldn't be able to be like Annie, Robert," I said. "I don't know how she's holding up."
"We never know what we can do until we have to do it."
There was something I needed to say to him, something important. But I couldn't think of what it was Time and the sun beat down on us. People were opening umbrellas, holding them over their heads. Why don't they just go home, I thought, to their cool, safe houses? Why did they have to come out here to see this?
In what seemed like a short while I heard church bells down the street. Twelve chimes, soft and musical on the summer air. Birds twittered in the trees overhead. Across the street some children were playing. How could this be? How could life go on like this when they were going to hang my best friend's mother?
Then the back door of the prison opened and they came out.
Four of them. Three men and a woman. Accompanied by two priests and three ministers.
A unified gasp went up from the crowd. Then silence.
Mrs. Mary was wearing her good black bombazine dress, the one with the satin ribbons. How could you wear your best dress to be hanged in? Her head was veiled. The priests were on either side of her, supporting her arms. Under the blazing impersonal sun the sad procession walked across the dusty prison yard and the prisoners went up the steps to the scaffold. Atzerodt, Herold, Payne, Mrs. Surratt.
Thirteen steps. Had they planned thirteen steps?
It was in that moment that I thought of Johnny Surratt. My Johnny. I wondered if he still had the handkerchiefs Annie had made him with the days of the week on them. I remembered the night he took me to Ford's Theater and we sat in the president's box.
A hundred years ago. Another time. Where are you, Johnny? If you'd come back they wouldn't be hanging your mother. Couldn't you have come back?
I wondered if Annie's mother were thinking of him. I wondered what she was thinking just now.
The prisoners sat on chairs on the platform. General Hartranft read the execution order. Then the clergymen said their prayers, each in turn. Then more waiting.
"Oh, God!" Annie moaned. "They're holding an umbrella over my mother. She must have one of her headaches!"
"Hold on, girl," Uncle Valentine told her. "A stay of execution can still come."
"How can they be so cruel, Dr. Bransby? How can human beings be so cruel?"
Uncle Valentine put his arm around her and held her close. I clutched the stems of my nightflowers. Robert gave me a tight smile of encouragement.
Then we waited some more. Mrs. Mary was kissing her crucifix.
Nooses were slipped over the heads of the