The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb - Melanie Benjamin [91]
Benjamin knelt and gripped my shoulders, gazing so piercingly into my face that I felt a moment of foreboding.
“Vinnie, Vinnie—let me have a look at you! Why, how pretty you are, what a fine lady! I can’t believe it!”
“And you, Ben—you look fine! Such a soldier—are you well?”
“As well as ol’ Bobby Lee lets me be; he keeps us on the run, but we have good generals now, and I think the tide might be turning.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful! I can’t wait to tell Mama and Papa all about you!”
“Are they all fine? The cows—is Papa able to keep up with the cows and all?”
“Yes, yes—everyone’s well.”
“And Minnie? Is she—is she still at home?”
“She came up to New York for my wedding, but she went home after.”
“So she’s not traveling with you?”
“No.”
He nodded, and I knew he was relieved to hear this. But then he swallowed and said softly, “Vinnie … about the way we left things … I don’t know what to say, still. I never understood how you could go off and—”
“Is this my new brother-in-law?”
Suddenly Charles was next to us, clasping Benjamin’s hand. Charles, ever sunny, ever simple, beamed up at Benjamin, completely unaware of any tension between us.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir,” Benjamin replied quietly. Then he colored, and seemed suddenly aware that he was kneeling on the ground. Hastily, he rose.
Just then a soldier shouted, “General, I seen you once when I was but a lad, up at that American Museum. It sure is a pleasure to see you again.”
Another chimed in, “Me, too. Saw him when I was just a little mite. Never thought I’d see him out here in all this muck.”
“We wish you much happiness, General!” another voice called out.
“You sure did make me laugh when I was little, with that tiny sword of yours! I’ll never forget that day!”
Charles grinned and trotted over to talk to these soldiers, moving among them with ease, dancing, capering—bringing a smile to faces still filthy with the grime of battle. As he did, I looked up at Benjamin. He was gazing at my husband with an open mouth.
“What do you say to that?” I asked my brother, with a triumphant smile.
“Well, I guess he’s pretty popular, that Tom Thumb, isn’t he? I didn’t tell anyone in my regiment about you and him, but somebody found out, and you know what, Vinnie? They didn’t tease me at all. Matter of fact, I’m supposed to get your autographs for some of the men.” He scratched his head, unbelieving, still. “I guess you did all right for yourself after all, Vinnie.”
“Do you really think so, Benjamin?”
“I do.” He knelt back down and took my hand in his; I looked at his hand, so rough, the nails bitten off, bearing red scars from gunpowder, I assumed. I couldn’t begin to imagine all he’d been through, but still I could think of him only as the brother who had carried me to and from school whenever my legs were too tired. “Vinnie, you’re my sister and I love you, and I’m sorry I was ever ashamed of you. I was wrong in all that, ’cause look at you now! These fellows sure are happy you came out here. So’m I.”
“Me, too!” I embraced my brother once more, my arms about his dirty neck. Then he joined the General and myself in our carriage as we continued to drive through the camp, the General, in particular, being greeted so warmly by those who had seen him perform. And it seemed to me practically every soldier in the Union army had done so; I was very proud of him at that moment.
How proud I was, as well, to be escorted through that army camp by my brother and my husband; how touched I was to see the joy my husband and I brought our boys in blue, fighting so valiantly to preserve our Union! It was a moment I would never forget, and I was eternally grateful to Charles for making it possible. For I knew I would never have experienced it on my own, as Lavinia Warren Bump.
And then we were back in New York, back in Society, the whirlwind of it all; every morning the silver tray next to our door was piled high with thick white envelopes of invitation. One morning, about two weeks after our return, I spied an envelope that was more ornate than the rest; opening