Jasper Hale Parts 1 - 3 (Wishful Thinking, Hopeless; Safe and Sound)

Jasper Hale Part 1: Wishful Thinking (1)

Part 1 : Wishful Thinking

I am finally seventeen years old - the year is 1860 and I eagerly wait with my brother, Jem, for our names to be called. “Alex, do you think you can-” 

I don’t let Jem finish, “Yes I can. Now hush!” 

My name is Alexandra, but the last time my brother was in service I missed him so dearly that it hurt. Our parents weren’t the best so Jem was the only person that kept me happy in life. I’d never had many friends or even a courted with some nice county boy. Today - and probably for the next few years - I would be acting as Alex, a boy from Oklahoma who happens to be a Confederate soldier. 

Our names were called and we joined all the others. There were small departure ceremonies for the soldiers and their families, but our parents were not attending. It didn’t surprise me, it was why I was leaving in the first place. 

I remember when I first came up with the notion to act like a boy:

It was a week since Jem had returned from service and I was sitting in my room - the door locked because my mother and father were drunk and having loud sex in the living room. Like we needed more siblings. We had five younger brothers and two younger sisters. Most of them spent time with the neighbors, and they were taken care of by them. 

“Alexandra!” Jem called knocking on my door. 

“Don’t call me that,” I spat opening the door for them.

“They been causing you trouble lately,” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the living room. 

Solemnly I nodded, “They been at it on and off for weeks. They fight one day and the next they do this. I swear to the Lord that they get louder each day!”

“Alex, ladies don’t swear!” Jem scolded.

“Well I do, so don’t call me a lady. I’ve been corrupted enough!” 

“You ain’t seen nothing,” Jem argued. 

“What could have happened at war that isn’t worse here?!” 

“We kill people. Granted, not our own men, but we still kill and fight other living beings!” 

“Better than here,” I shrugged not caring. 

“Really?” He challenged. 

“I’d rather be a boy like you. Girls like me have no choice but to sit yonder and wait to die,” I sighed. 

“You being serious?” He asked.

“Yessir.” 

“How about you enroll?”

“Could I?” I asked. 

“We’ll have to make you a pretty convincing guy,” He winked. 

“I won’t cut my hair, but Miss Sally has a wig shop and I know she won’t say a word!” I told him not willing to get rid of my long golden locks. 

“I’ll get the forms and you see this Miss Sally,” He ordered. 

In a week, I was ready to go to with Jem by my side. 

We were on our way to the camp where we would stay. Oklahoma was one of the better Confederate states with fighters, but everyone knew Texas was the best. 

Jem and I hung out a lot at the camp and at some training sessions. During the fighting, I had made some friends - good fighters and men who are skilled with weapons.

Benjamin was among the select few that I talked to. He was amazing with a rifle. Could shoot farther and more accurate than any other soldier I’d seen - including Jem. Then, there was Charles, but everyone called him Charlie. He was better at hand-to-hand combat. He’d been a veteran, but couldn’t be much older than Jem or me. Finally, there was Sam and he was probably my favorite one to talk to. He didn’t say much, and didn’t brag about his fighting skills like most other soldiers. 

Later in the year - the Civil War was still real as ever - Jem was chosen to be the Major, the best one in the state. I ranked second in command. 

If anything bad were to happen to him - I prayed that nothing would - I would take his place.

In 1862, we were allowed to go home for a few months before we had to return to the war. I was finally glad to take of the wig, and I stopped by Miss Sally’s to get it replaced since it was starting to look ratty. 

“You a crazy woman for going out like that,” She told me as she worked. 

“I can’t stay here, I like the war,” I admitted. 

She rolled her eyes, “I mean you is crazy for going to war as a woman. You fightin’ skills are excellent from the folks I heard chattering, but I mean you is going to end up dead!” Miss Sally was a decent woman - kept to her own business, but was still concerned about those who confided in her. For a colored-woman she was definitely well educated. 

“I know I am, but I decided to risk it,” I shrugged. 

“You better return!” 

“Oh, I will ma’am,” I tell her letting my drawl become more noticeable.

“Let’s hope so, I will be praying for you, Miss Alex!” She told me. 

“I’ll see you when were are back in town,” I promised her. 

Honestly, I had no idea when that would be. We fought for two years, and finally came back after that long while. Will it be another two years? Longer? Or will we return within a few months? I decided not to share these with Jem. He would say, ‘You’re acting too feminine for war.’