Tillie started to sit down, hesitated notwanting to disturb either of them, but she promised and settledherself next to the captain. The general’s still body made herwary. She leaned closer for a better look. General Weed wasn’tasleep. Guilt pierced her heart as tears filled her eyes. Hemust’ve thought her a liar. Why did she oversleep? Why didn’tBeckie wake her? Why did he die?
The captain sat still eyes open, watchingher. “We’ve been waiting for you.” He sounded groggy. His wordsheld no condemnation, though she listened hard for it. “Do you knowwho this is?” He patted the general’s chest.
“He told me his name is General Weed.” Tillieset the plate of bread near the captain. She put her other handover the general’s heart. “I’m sorry I’m late.” She spoke to him asthough he heard.
“Yes.” The captain ignored her comment. “Thisis the body of General Weed, a New York man. He got hit helpingCaptain Hazlet place artillery on the top of Little Roundtop. WestPoint Class of 1854.” A sad smile played on the captain’s lips ashe gazed at the general. “He once told me he and J.E.B Stuart werebest friends at West Point.”
It surprised her to think generals had livesbefore the war. Like her parents, she tended to think theyappeared, as they were, then disappeared again. “I’m sorry. I dohope he’s greeting nearer and dearer faces than mine right now.”She contemplated the captain. “You must have been quite intimatefriends to pay such close attention. Are you related?”
The captain smiled. “No. I worked as hisaide-de-camp, but he treated me like a younger brother.” His eyesmisted and he blinked. “I loved him like a brother.” He adjustedhis seat and stroked General Weed’s forehead. “He died in the weehours this morning. Before even the armies arose, I’d wager. Theorderlies wanted to carry him away sooner, but I insisted we waitfor you.”
Tillie leaned over and placed a light kiss onthe general’s cold forehead. “Goodbye, General Weed. I am honoredto have met you.” She mustered up a slight grin. “Thank you forwaiting for me. They can come and take him now, if they needto.”
“You’ve been most kind to us.” The captaintook a slice of bread and chewed. “If I can do anything for you,please tell me, and I will carry it out posthaste.”
Tillie thought of her family. How did theyfare? If he found out… “There is something.” She gave him her nameand instructions on how to reach her home. “Would you tell them I’msafe?” Her throat constricted with a surge of emotion. She clearedher throat and forced herself to speak. “Would you come back andtell me if any harm befell them?”
“I shall consider it my sacred duty.” Thecaptain slapped his hand over his heart in dramatic fashion. “I’llgo today, come back this evening and report.” He took a secondslice and ate.
Tillie smiled her thanks. Her gaze traveledto General Weed’s body.
“What troubles you, my dear?” The captainlaid a gentle hand on her arm.
She lowered her head embarrassed by hersudden emotion. “When I was little, I believed in God—at least Ithink I did. My parents are devout. We go to church every Sunday.But this summer, so much has happened I have a hard time believinga divine God directs everything.” She broke off and gazed about theroom. “The war never affected my family until last fall when mybrothers left. James, my older brother, is with the FirstPennsylvania Reserves, but when they arrived yesterday, I couldn’tfind him. I called out to him, but he wasn’t there.” Heat rushed toher eyes. Her words now came with soft, warm tears running down hercheeks. The idea of losing her brothers crushed her heart. “We’venot had a word from him in several months. What if…?” She stopped,unable to give voice to her fear. “William is with General Grantout west, as far as we know, but we’ve not heard from him either.Just last week my sister’s beau went off to join the Twenty-FirstPennsylvania. Rebel sharpshooters shot and killed him on his way tomeet his unit. He was unarmed, but they shot him anyway. Now, Idon’t believe in God. Worse yet, I don’t even want to believe inGod. I’m troubled.”
“You’re angry with God.”
Tillie started and stared at him. “Angry withGod? How can one be angry with God?”
“Well, you told me some pretty sad things.It’s a guess, but sounds reasonable to me. Do you think it’spossible you’re angry for things like not hearing from, or seeing,your brothers? What about your sister’s beau? Do you think that’sGod’s fault?”
“Perhaps I do.” Her voice finally came,almost too soft to hear. “I–I never thought of that. I think ofbeing angry as stomping around and shouting at people.” Her voicegrew stronger. “I haven’t done that.”
“Haven’t you?”
She turned hard eyes on him. “What do youmean?”
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.“Well, I’ve been sitting here, not able to do much more thanobserve. I see how you interact with that girl.” He jutted his chinin Beckie’s direction. “She gets under your skin, although you trynot to show it, but I’ve seen the angry expression on your facesometimes. I don’t think you’re even aware.… But you get anexpression, and Lord help the person you’re upset with.”
Tillie’s mouth dropped open as the familiarwarmth flushed her cheeks. “I didn’t know.”
“I know.” He shifted his position and pressedhis shoulder blades into the wall. “As you weren’t aware of yourfeelings for her, I suspect you aren’t aware of your anger withGod.”
Tillie stared off at the far wall, processinghis words. He offered her too much to think about, but she promisedherself to concentrate on it later. A new question struck her.“What I don’t comprehend is how can God, if there is a God, allowso much horror and evil to exist? How can he allow men to be sodestructive to one another? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Of course it does, if you think aboutit.”
Tillie cocked her head.
“My dear.” He took on the tone of someoneabout to embark
