Allen trails around the room and stops in stunned admiration at the new images. “You took these?” he gasps. “All of these?” Daisy steps to his side, and they move slowly through the photographs. Images of buildings, farms, barns, and churches all as beaten down as the men. Like the survivors, they carry scars as well.
Glenn runs a hand over a large tintype of a shabby looking General Store. Half the room is missing, but customers line up to buy what they can. Savannah watches them and hope sparks as they all stare intently at the images.
“The Sisters of Mercy said I could travel with them as long as I didn’t let my photography interfere with the duties of nursing and caring for the wounded. He came in with gunshot wounds to his side and chest. We did what we could to save him, but he faded a little bit each day. Oliver watched me taking photographs of the soldiers returning from the battlefield, but he never spoke, he just watched.” Savannah walks over to the images lining the wall.
“I didn’t think much of it at first, because some of the soldiers had broken minds.” She glances at Glenn. “You understand?”
“Yes,” he replied hoarsely.
Savannah travels down the wall. “One day I was storing a tintype in my bag, and another one fell to the floor. It was of this church,” she walks quickly to the wall and points. They all move closer to look. “The bell took a hit and was knocked from the steeple.”
“Pulled from the steeple,” Glenn says, and Savannah nods.
“Before I could move Oliver spoke. ‘Show me.' I showed him the picture, and he smiled. ‘Now that is a picture,' he said.” Savannah laughs remembering and runs a finger over the picture. “For two weeks I nursed him.” She points to a picture of Oliver, with a bandage around his head, young, and battered on a cot. “I tried to save him,” she whispers and turns back to them.
“The images seemed to give him hope, so I showed him the others. Oliver got so excited, then. He made me promise to retrieve his bag from a friend and give my word that I would see it returned to his brother, Eli.”
“What was in the bag?” Glenn asks almost afraid of the answer.
“Tintypes, hundreds of them. Like the ones on the table, but much more important. It was his dying wish that the dead be remembered. He spoke of his family, his home, his brother and of all the things he wanted to do when the war was over.” Savannah's voice breaks.
Daisy takes her arm and guides her back to the chair. “I didn’t love him, not like what you and Dad have.” Her eyes snap to Glenn and Anika, but she doesn’t say the words. “We were friends. He had the same vision I had. The ability to look and see more.” Savannah falls quiet, thinking about her friend.
“When the fever set in, the Sisters told me he wouldn't have much time, and on his death bed he made me pen a letter to his family and promise to process the images and see them returned to his brother.”
“That is a large promise,” Allen murmurs. Savannah lowers her head in shame.
“I couldn’t do it,” she whispers.
“Couldn’t do what?” Glenn asks.
Savannah jumps up and begins to pace, tossing her red hair over her shoulder.
“My images are after the war, his are from the battlefield. Moments captured, of soldiers, impacted by bullets and sabers. Diseased, starved, and mass graves. I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing it. I only got through half of them.” Guilt weighs heavily on her.
Anika stares at the large battlefield and closes her eyes. These are the images Saul couldn’t live with.
“It was an unfair promise, Savannah. His family will understand,” Daisy explains.
“While I worked, I sent letters to the families of those I nursed, telling them of their last moments. I visited the ones I could get to. I hoped it would help ease my guilt. I arranged for his body to be returned home but I haven't sent the letter he asked me to or returned the bag. I couldn't get through them. I just needed to come home and heal my mind. Being with you all has a way of washing away the horror, if only for a little while,” Savannah explains as her Mother hugs her close.
“I had no idea…” Anika says as she stares at the gruesome scene. “Saul came home, but he wasn't the same. This explains so much,” she whispers. “You must finish them. This is important,” she says louder.
Glenn walks around a second time and stares at the faces. So many died, and families will never know how. God speaks to his heart saying, ‘Trust me.’
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you, plans to give you hope and a future,” Glenn quotes. He walks over to her and stoops down, taking Savannah’s hands in his. “You didn’t have to bear this burden alone. Forgive me for being so selfish. I will do better, that is a promise. I will help you with this, but this time you won’t be alone. Together we will see your promise fulfilled.”
Savannah weeps and throws her arms around his neck, “Thank you.”
Anika wipes away tears and moves around again to look closer at the images. All the noise fades into the background, so intently is she looking at a bloody battlefield scene that she doesn’t hear them talking. When Glenn touches her arm, she jumps.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you ready to go?”
“We can wait a minute if you need to,” Allen offers.
“I’ll bring
