The Last Sunset

The First Cry

The pale pink glow of the evening sunset began to sift onto the canvas of the sky, capturing the attention of a young lady in a turquoise dress. It enraptured her like an audience at a ballet, with silence being the only noise found. She had soft brown curls and a sharp nose, a nose that perhaps showed her to be prim and proper. Prim and proper she was, especially on Sunday mornings when the preacher's wife greeted each young girl with a searching smile. However, on the particularly hot days where frilly petticoats and stockings were thought to be the correct attire for going outside, Mattie Patton was anything but prim and proper.
On this young, fine evening, she had decided to steal away from the dulling quietness of the mansion. She hadn't gone far, just to the wishing well that stood proudly in front of the gardening. Mattie always found the well humorous; it put on airs as if it were the most important thing on the lawn, even though it was absurdly tiny compared to the house and its weeping willow companions. She found humor in the wishing well's pride, and perhaps a little envy as well.
Summer had settled into the plantation quite nicely; the grass was a rich, lush green and white peonies huddled in clusters among the front of the mansion. The vines that Paul (the Patton family gardener) had so carefully trimmed swept up and down the railing that framed the aging white staircase which opened up to the front doors. The house was two stories tall, the second story having the privilege of the balcony. Wide, clear glass windows with black shutters were placed in rows of two, three on each row. Behind the mansion was the charming, buzzing workplace of mostly female slaves. Adilah, a slave who had cared for Mattie since she was a child, sat near the slave quarters, making candles. She was sitting in an old rocking chair, her frizzy, thick hair pulled back with a purple bandana Mattie gave her when she was about four years old. Adilah wore it often, and always remembered the way Mattie's childish eyes shined when she held it out to her saying, "Mewwy Chwistmas, Adiwah!"
Adilah had a daughter named Daisy who was about eight years old. She was running around barefoot, chasing the chickens. Daisy's father was taken from the two of them several years ago when Adilah became pregnant. Mattie's father had spent the last two years looking for him, but he was never found.
Mattie was so lost in thought about Daisy's father she didn't even notice the field boy who had came up and tapped her shyly on the shoulder.
She turned quickly and gave him a cross look.
"Now James, what are you tapping me for? Mother wants me inside now, doesn't she?"
James nodded silently. He never spoke a word, unlike the other field workers who whistled and sang all day long. But he was a good boy, and on frequent occasions Mother gave him the cookies that were left uneaten at dinner parties.
Mattie grabbed her skirts and hurried inside. Being late was not an event that Mother took kindly to.
Once inside, Mother insisted that she brush her hair out a little, for guests were coming. Also, would she please remind her brother Andrew to wear the white pressed shirt that didn't have the stain on it.
Once Mattie came back downstairs, she was delighted to greet the families that had come. The Greenes had come, along with their skinny, pale daughter Charlotte who was nearly Mattie's age. Josephine Johnson, whom Mattie adoringly referred to as "Jo", was there with her new fiancé William Browning.
"It's hard for me to believe you'll soon be Jo Browning," Mattie gushed to her friend. "White will look so lovely with your complexion."
Jo had olive colored skin and dark, darting brown eyes. She arched an eyebrow ever so slightly at Mattie, then looked sideways at Charlotte Greene.
"I hear that boy who lives up the river has been trying to court Miss Charlotte," she giggled. "But that's perfectly in vain - Mr. Greene would never hear of his daughter associating with the likes of them. I, however, think it's all rather romantic."
Mattie smiled at Jo, but said nothing. Mattie was only fifteen after all, and what's a fifteen year old have to say about courtship and love? Jo, who was eighteen, seemed to understand the concept much better than she.
The conversations floated amongst the people, small talk of dresses and weddings, and the men arguing over politics and a possible war.
"War does bore me so," Jo said to Mattie as William began an intense discussion with Mattie's father.
"Governor, there's been talk of war and secession. Alabama will follow through, won't we?"
Governor Patton was a strong man with the sharp nose that Mattie inherited and a straight mouth. His roots took place in the heart of the South.
"Secession? Certainly. Lincoln talks of union as if it's a beautiful dream - and it very well might be if the North wouldn't impose upon us as they do. But war? I doubt it. The Yankees know their chances with the Confederates."
At this the men threw back their heads and laughed, and lifted their whiskeys for cheers.
Jo crossed her arms and huffed.
"You know I used to think it perfectly dreadful when my father rambled on aimlessly about his horses and the Derby, but war?"
Jo shuddered as if she didn't want to say anymore.
"I find war to be terribly exciting," Mattie boldly stated. "I've always wished to be a patriotic American lady, fighting for the land of the free during the Revolutionary War."
At this point, Mrs. Patton had just strolled by.
"Mattie!" she scolded. "Don't say such outlandish things, dear!"
Jo took her by the arm and they walked outside onto the veranda where the last drops of sunshine could warm their young bodies.
"Does Adilah still wear that purple bandana you gave her so many years go?"
Mattie nodded and smiled.
"She always wears it when she makes the candles."
As they stood outside another very familiar horse and carriage approached the house. It was a very familiar one - it still had the blue, sheer color with the light brown horse named Taffeta.
Out walked the Weedens - their son John gave Mattie a kind wave and a gentle smile.
Fortunately, Mattie had known John far too long for Jo to start making jokes at her expense, not that she would have minded all that much.
She did not follow inside, for as boys come and go, the vibrant orange sunset did not appear to stay much longer, considering that it was now melting into a dark indigo, resembling the dyes that Amy and Dolly often made.
"Isn't it so lovely?" Mattie said to Jo. "We're going to have a splendid summer I believe."
"Hopefully war won't spoil it," Jo said glumly.
"Well, the boys would look awfully nice in uniform," Mattie sighed, resting her chin on her hand.
Jo hit her playfully on the arm.
"I'd rather my William be clad in shabby slave rags and be safe here at home than a dashing uniform on the battlefield where every minute could be his last."
Jo did not talk often of herself, or William, but when she did her eyes seemed to shine a different light.
"You know Mattie, one day you'll find something that roots you to this place. Something or someone who makes you feel as though you could never be anywhere else."
Mattie laughed softly.
"And how does that make you feel, you dear wild thing?"
Jo tried to smile as she looked down at her hands.
"It terrifies me."
The deep energy of the conversation was innocently stripped away when Mrs. Patton called out, "Girls! Jo, you dear, you and Mattie must join us for dancing!"
The magic of the sunset had long since gone, and little did anyone know how long it would be till it truly returned.
Mrs. Patton's parlor was somewhat of a sanctuary for her. It was place where she could display her grandmother's china, as well as the new furniture that just came in. She had the joys of watching her family fellowship together, but she especially loved to clasp her hands and smile as she watched the young people dance. There was something about the way a shy, unsure boy was suddenly filled with confidence, simply because her pretty daughter offered him a smile.
John placed one hand in Mattie's and the other on the small of her back. The pair circled round and round, never dizzying or tiring. She laughed; and it was as if little fairies were twinkling tiny bells, just to let every other woodland creature know how beautiful the world was. Her eyes were a light green color, and always had an intense gaze that made people want to know more, especially boys in their teen years.
"You've gotten much better," Mattie teased, stifling a giggle. "When did you learn to dance?"
The truth was usually John got annoyed when anyone teased him about anything, but for some reason when it came from her sweet lips, the words didn't seem to sting.
"I've always known," John answered back. "Just wanted to surprise you."
Her grip on John's hand loosened for just a second, and she would have stumbled dreadfully if he hadn't have pulled her closer suddenly.
"Easy, Mattie," John whispered, and her heart seemed to flutter.
Something in Mattie's heart seemed to spark, but she wasn't sure what. Whatever it was scared and excited her all at the same time.
The evening at this point had gone wonderfully. A reunion with friends, good food, and a dance with John Weeden! Mattie's heart felt content and at peace.
"Jims, good boy, what are you doing at this hour of the night?" the governor roared as the door swung open to reveal a twelve year old boy with ruddy hair and freckled cheeks.
"There's been news," he said with a grave face. "It's begun."
The governor's smile faded.
"Yes, I know good boy," he responded after a pause. "I am the governor after all. Come in, and sit down."
"News of what?" Jo whispered, but they all already knew the answer.
"Fort Sumter," Jims said. "The Confederates bombarded the Yankees. War's a comin'."