During these breaks Abram would stretch his huge body out under a tree and sleep.
Perry and Hunter usually spent the time talking. Hunter enjoyed telling about his ballooning adventures, and Perry found this a safe subject. As long as she asked a few questions now and then, Hunter would continue talking.
He told her of one of the first balloon ascents in Paris, in 1783. 'The balloon only went six miles,' he said, 'but it was the first hydrogen balloon to go up. A young physicist named Charles invented it. When it landed in a small village, it frightened the locals, who mistook it for a monster. The farmers attacked it with pitchforks, destroying it. They didn't know they were attacking such an important discovery.'
Over her laughter he continued. 'Ben Franklin was in France at the time, and it is said he and four thousand others watched the next ascent six months later.''
Hunter smiled. 'You know, boy, if I could, I'd introduce you to a good friend of mine. He's on leave from the German army to check out ballooning for the military. He's been crazy about it ever since he went up for the first time in Minneapolis. He's a count, you know. Name's Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin. I lend Count Zeppelin my lodgings in Washington whenever he needs them. He junks them up with maps worse than I do.' Hunter laughed and Perry noticed a tiredness in his eyes.
Perry and Hunter's conversations were usually short, for Hunter was still very weak. When they talked, the warmth in his smile never reached his eyes. He was a private man. Even when he grew excited about ballooning, there still was a silent wall that seemed to keep all others pushed slightly away.
As Philadelphia drew nearer, Hunter's bleeding lessened. He was growing stronger, and so were Perry's feelings toward him.
Chapter 7
Darkness fell on the weary threesome as they moved through the outskirts of Philadelphia. Perry marveled at Abram's stamina. He'd hardly slept over the long trip. Now he carefully maneuvered the tired team down the narrow streets of the second largest town in America.
Philadelphia was dirtier than most towns Perry had seen. A menagerie of people wandered the streets, as though they were waiting for adventure to dance into their humdrum lives. Beggars huddled in corners, while soldiers milled aimlessly around, searching for excitement to dispel their nervous energy. The crowd added a carnival-like atmosphere to the town. The aroma of food being cooked over open fires blended with the odors of too many people and animals stabled in close quarters. She heard several conversations at once without understanding any of them.
Abram urged the horses past a carriage pulled to the curb. The black coach was polished until light sparkled off it, giving it a charmed quality in the night. Two women alighted from the rich inner folds and strolled into the yellow glow of the streetlight. Both were lavishly dressed in yards of colorful silk. Perry had seen little fine silk over the past four years, and to see so much at once was almost an assault on her eyes. The ladies looked like huge, beautiful moths fluttering in the lamplight.
The women's loud laughter drifted through the street like a bell clanging off-key. Perry's gaze darted suddenly from the bright material they wore to their faces. Her eyes widened as she saw, not two fine ladies but rough women of the streets. Their hair shone an unnatural copper in the light of the lamp, and their faces were covered with makeup thick enough to plow a row through. Their eyes were painted and outlined in black, in sharp contrast to the powder-white of their skin. Each had overemphasized her lips in bright red.
Perry felt the wagon lurch forward. Abram's mumbling caught her full attention. 'Abram, did you see them?' Perry tried to control the excitement in her voice. 'Did you see those ladies?'
Abram let out an uneasy laugh. 'Them are no ladies. No ladies at all.'
He would have ended the discussion, but Perry persisted. 'Did you see the silk? I haven't seen silk like that in years. It was lovely. But their eyes and lips-I've never seen women so made-up. Have you, Abram?' She wiggled in the seat, hoping for another look. The women surely must be as rare as white buffalo.
He seemed reluctant to speak, and when he did, his voice was stern. 'They aren't the type of women you should be seeing. They aren't proper ladies. No amount of silk will make them ladies, just like no amount of mud will make you less of one. They're the vultures in a war. They feed off both sides. Don't matter to them who wins, just as long as whoever does has money.''
Perry remembered hearing Noma talk about women who sold themselves for the night. Women who were not respected by any man.
'Abram, are they whores?' she asked.
Abram's eyes darted to her face. 'Where'd you learn a word like that?'
'They were, weren't they?' Perry laughed. 'I'm not a child. I've heard of such women.'
Abram grunted and continued driving the tired team. 'My bet is they are worse than any you've ever heard of.' He slapped the rump of one horse lightly with the end of the reins as he shook his head, ending the discussion.
Perry checked Hunter. He was sleeping in the wagon bed behind them, his body covered with blankets. He was still very weak. The trip had been hard on him, though he never complained. Perry was glad he would sleep in a hospital tonight, but a part of her would miss being with him.
She studied Hunter's hand as it rested outside his blankets. Heat trailed over her body as she remembered the way his strong fingers had touched her so gently. He'd spoken of longing and needing her, but she knew his strength of character would never accept her. To love her in reality would dishonor him. They were separated by an ocean of war, with her on one side and him on the other. She'd seen the strong sense of honor in his eyes when he'd talked with his cousin in camp, heard it in his voice when the deserters had tried to rob them. If his sense of honor had been strong enough to put him in a war he hated, surely it would make him turn her over for trial.
Perry glanced at Abram. How much of a lady would he think she was if he knew the game she played with Hunter?
Abram slowed before a large square building, void of any style or color. All was quiet around them. This street stood deserted, in sharp contrast to the hustle and bustle only a few blocks away.
As Abram stepped from the wagon he warned, 'You better stay in the background while I get Hunter checked in. Wait for me over there on the steps. I'll find you a place to sleep later.'
Perry followed Abram's instructions as he disappeared with Hunter into the hospital. She pulled her jacket tightly around her. The night was cool, even for early spring. She huddled in the corner by the steps like a homeless child. Clouds slowly gathered above the chimneys, promising yet another April shower. Tucking her knees beneath her, Perry curled into a ball and melted into the corner shadows. The few people who passed paid her little heed. She closed her eyes in exhausted sleep.
Perry was awakened by a man calling her name. For a moment, location and time had no meaning. She jumped up to find a hospital orderly only a few feet from her. He was a youth not much older than herself with a bored expression permanently tattooed on his face.
'You the boy that came in with Captain Kirkland and that huge blackie?' he barked, annoyed that shed startled him.
'Yeah,' Perry answered, trying to lower her voice to match his. She pulled her hat over her face.
'Well, that one called Abram said they'll be a long while. I've been told to offer you somethin' to eat if you're hungry. There's a kitchen, second door on the right. Nobody'll be there this late, but you can eat somethin'. You can sleep on the table there. I told the blackie I'd see about you. I reckon the kitchen quarters are good enough for a rag like you.' He snickered, pulling at a few chin hairs that struggled to serve as a beard.
Though Perry was hungry, she could see the boy thought she was a bother. 'No, I'm fine right here,' she answered. 'Go away and let a guy sleep.'
The young orderly needed no further encourage-ment. He vanished, leaving Perry behind on the cold steps.
Huddling back into her corner, she tried to get comfortable once again. It must be after midnight, she thought as she longed for a real bed. The cloudy sky hung menacingly above her. Where before only a few clouds gathered, now a stormy mob rumbled, waiting to unleash its rage upon the night. The wind whipped between the buildings, whispering an unwelcome melody.
