The Five Dollar Mail (Book 1: The Green & Book 2: Lynch's Boys)

122:Young, Skinny, Wiry Fellows

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Photo of schoolhouse taken by me in Brattonsville, South Carolina. All graphics by me.

The pictures this week were taken in Historic Brattonsville where some Revolutionary War re-enactors were doing, among other things, a black powder re-enactment of The Battle of Huck's Defeat. Very cool. It's a plantation that that dates back to the mid 1700's and has dozens of period buildings on the site. I can't post a link here, but if you google Historic Brattonsville, you might recognize the site from The Patriot. 

But anyways, I love the old school building on the site. I kind of picture Mrs. Plunkett's schoolhouse looking similar. Different part of the country, but still, it's a great period display so I thought I'd share it.         -gina

"'Morning, Miss!"

Rosie Burgess turned, startled on her way up the low steps of the schoolhouse. She turned, glancing around. Jedidiah Smith clumsily bumped her arm as he clomped past her on his way to the door, but she barely noticed it enough to be irritated with him. Tommy Page was was waving at her as he walked towards her, Luis Santana beside him. They both pulled their hats off and held them when she made eye contact.

She was hesitant to speak, aware that if he were not talking to her, she'd look stupid and give someone a reason to make fun of her. She glanced around again, then raised a shy hand, returning the wave.

"It's Miss Burgess, right?" he called, stepping up to her.

She nodded. "Yes," she said faintly. "I'm...Rosie." I'm on first-name basis with Pony Express riders now? She felt a warm blush tingling faintly in her cheeks. "You came back...I didn't think you'd come today."

"We enjoyed it yesterday." Tommy smiled, stepping up to her. "Well, I did, at least..."

Luis Santana looked a little sheepish. He gave her a one sided, half-smiling grimace. He was scruffy and adorable. They're both adorable. She couldn't help but smile at him despite her nervousness.

 "You didn't...?" she said, prompting him.  

"Just feel a little out of place, Señorita."

"Well." She felt herself warming to the attention and his admission of discomfiture. "I feel like that pretty much every day!"

Tommy ran his fingers along the metal loops behind his ears, pulling his glasses up higher on his nose. "Luis needs to work on his reading some."

"Oh," she said, nodding. "Mrs. Plunkett's a good teacher...and she's very nice, so..."

"Well," Luis muttered awkwardly, glaring at Tommy. "I prob'ly need to do more than just 'working on.'"

She wondered if either of them had been to school before. She knew Tommy read. He'd spoken to her in the mercantile once about a book she was buying. Luis, though, she wondered about. She'd seen how much he fidgeted yesterday, how he'd looked utterly lost and confused. And his Hispanic accent was heavy enough that she wondered if English was even his first language. She suspected it wasn't. If he'd been just another Mexican boy, and not some handsome and exciting Pony Express rider working for the intimidating ex-gunman Erastus Lynch, she knew Charlotte and her disciples would be making his life miserable by now.

And Jed Smith would most likely be pushing the slender, bookish, glasses-wearing Tommy around. But even Jed was most likely smart enough to figure out that if Tommy was working for Mr. Lynch, regularly running mail through hostile territory alone, there clearly was more to him than it would seem at first glance.

"I...uh...I saw you in Abigail's, that night all of you came out." she said, wanting very much to keep the conversation going, unwilling to relinquish their company just yet. The heat in her cheeks intensified when she remembered how they'd caught her looking at them. "What was the occasion?"

"Well, Tommy said, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow. "Our kitchen...well...sort of caught on fire." He had a breathy way of speaking, as if his words stuck in his throat before tumbling out in a rush. "Everything was covered in soot...and part of the roof ended up...you know...we had to fix a lot of stuff before the kitchen was usable."

Rosie's mouth dropped open. "Really?" Her mind went back to that evening, and she remembered how the Irishman's arm had been in a sling, and how unwell the Italian coach driver and the lady with the glasses looked. They'd been pale and hollow-eyed, and Jesse Hanson had been literally falling asleep at the table over his supper. That explains a lot. "Some of you got hurt? Is that how the Irishman broke his arm?

"Naw," Luis said. "Saint got sick from the smoke, but nobody got bad hurt. And Wash's arm ain' broke, he got shot."

She wondered if the lighthearted exhilaration she felt was visible on her face. These were boys for whom harrowing, dangerous business was a casual everyday occurrence. They get shot and burned out and one of them was in jail awaiting a... a hanging trial, and their reaction is to go out to eat in a restaurant.

And out of everyone here...they're talking to me.

"I could..." she hesitated, gathering her courage, "help Luis with his reading...if you like." She drew in a shaky breath, hardly believing her own boldness. "We three could meet after school for a bit."

 Tommy raised his eyebrows, as if he were thinking about it. Rosie's heart was in her throat, terrified they'd decline.  

 And even more terrified that they'll accept.  

He smiled, cocking his head at Luis. "I'd say that's a great idea. Better than great."

Luis flushed, clearly a little embarrassed. "You prob'ly won't want to do that, Señorita..." he mumbled."Tha's gonna be more work than you think it is."

"Let's plan on it," Tommy chirped, grinning.

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