Read Online Billy Boy by Jean Mary Flahive - Free Book Online Page B

Big Dipper. Panic rose in his throat.
Why ain’t she there
? Confused, he spun around, trying to remember her place among the myriad stars. He must have missed it somehow. He raised his eyes above the Potomac River.
Nothing
. Frantic, he ran to higher ground, spun in circles as he stared at the sky. Then he lowered his gaze.
I see it!
The Big Dipper was well below the treetops, much lower in the sky than he remembered. And then he spotted the North Star—almost in front of him. In the darkness, Billy called out a silent hello to his pa.

Chapter 7
    T he next morning, October 7, the 17th Regiment moved out. President Lincoln had given orders to General McClellan to cross the Potomac and find the enemy. The company wasn’t headed too far, too fast, though. The sergeant ordered the men to march to the Capitol grounds, stack arms, and wait there for further orders.
    Throughout the morning the sun blazed tirelessly.
    â€œI’m tired of sitting,” said Harry. “Been here all morning. Besides, there ain’t an officer in sight. See that round building, Billy?” Harry pointed a finger down the long walkway.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œThat’s the Rotunda. It’s been used as a hospital since the Battle of Antietam three weeks back. Wounded lying just about everywhere around Washington. Let’s take a walk.”
    Billy was awestruck by the massive stone buildings around him. Magnificent shade trees lined the walkways that stretched across swaths of bright green grass. As he and Harry drew closer to the Rotunda, they saw several soldiers wandering around aimlessly, bandages covering their faces and bodies. A woman approached them, walking beside a soldier who moved unsteadily on his wooden crutch.
    â€œHe’s only got one leg,” Billy said loudly.
    The soldier stopped and stared at him, a deep frown across his face. “Reckon you boys ain’t seen any fightin’ yet.” He spat on the ground. “What’s your regiment?”
    â€œSeventeenth Maine, Company G, sir,” Harry said.
    Pushing his crude crutch hard into the grass, the soldier hobbled closer, his frown melting into a smile. “Seventh Maine,” he said, before he stumbled, falling facedown onto the ground.
    â€œHurry, boys, help me lift him,” said the woman.
    Billy and Harry raced to the soldier’s side, each cupping a hand under one of his armpits, and easing him carefully onto a bench a few feet away. The woman thanked them as she checked the man’s dressing. His leg had been amputated high above the knee. Trickles of blood seeped through the gauze. The woman sighed and brushed dirt and dust from the front of the man’s shirt.
    Billy turned his attention to the dark-haired woman. She had deep shadows under her eyes, although the rest of her face was ghostly pale. Her gray dress was stained and wrinkled. She caught his long glance.
    â€œI’m Isabella Fogg. I’m from Maine, too—Calais.”
    â€œYou come down here to help the soldiers?”
    â€œMy son’s in the Sixth Maine Regiment,” she answered. “He came to Washington last year, and I volunteered for the Maine Soldier’s Relief Agency to be near him. Now I help tend to the sick and wounded from Maine.”
    The soldier glanced at Billy and Harry. “What fort you boys at?”
    â€œDupont,” said Harry. “Garrison duty on the Potomac. Been here over a month now, but we’re finally moving out. You were at Antietam?”
    â€œYep. My first engagement.” He glanced down at his stump, and sighed deeply. “Took a minié ball right through her. Still, I reckon I’m one of the lucky ones.” He paused, nodded his head toward the Rotunda. “At least I’ll be going home.”
    Isabella frowned and gently scolded the soldier. “Hush with that talk, Reuben. These boys got a long road ahead.”
    â€œAre there many wounded in the Rotunda,