Short Story 1
Powder Monkey
September 2008
September 2008
For Novels by Roger Campbell
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| Three Men in a Tub by Roger Campbell |
The drab blackish gray orb appeared to be coated with silver. Countless rays of
energy bounded off lighting the sky above them. Three men looked up at the moon with
mixed feelings. Tonight would be the first time since they jumped they won’t fear the
darkness. Tonight they feared the light.
While soft, subtle and possessing an aura that stuck them as mystical the illumination
enabled them to see what they were doing and where they were going. The last several
nights had been horrible, nerve destroying horrible. Rain encased them in a shield of
water they had mixed feeling about. Indeed it was a two bladed sword. No one could
see them. They could move with some sense of security. Even if anyone else was
foolish enough to venture about the three would not be seen. A good thing. Most the
time they were traveling they had not be able to see the shore. A bad thing. Throughout
the nights they had been unable to see what lay ahead. A worst thing. Too many times
they avoided disaster at the last second. Too often the tub rocked to the point where
panic kept looking at them wondering if it was going to have some fun. There were no
warnings. No way to plan. They were at the mercy of the river. A spine chilling
experience.
And the water was cold. Almost as cold as the air. Whether in the rain or the river
the water was cold. A biting cold. Almost cold enough to freeze whatever it touched.
A cold that swept through a person then returned for some more abuse. A cold that
caused every bone in their bodies to ache. Their clothes were wet to the point the
material could not hold any more liquid sunshine. Even with a break in the rain the cold
would prevent their uniforms from drying out. It was a cold causing each to wonder
where they were. It was not suppose to be cold here. This was the land of eternal
summer. The land the sun kissed each morning. But at the moment the soil was not what
they wanted the sun to kiss.
During the four days the three learned the skill of talking with their eyes. They
looked at the moon, the river, the tub then at each other. Did they want to do this? No!
Did they want to continued? No! . . . Yes! This was better than the alternative.
Nothing was heard as three heads nodded it was time. They would rather freeze in hell
than roast there. For several minutes three sets of eyes scanned the surroundings.
Confidence they were alone branches were pulled off the large tub. Someone wasn’t
going to wash clothes for another day. What were they washing that required a tub this
size? They commented on how proficient they were becoming at doing things without
making a sound. A skill they were glad to have obtained but one they did not like the
reason for obtaining. This was not what they expected to be a part of. This was no
wagon ride among the cotton fields. But the tub offered a far better destination than the
one the train was headed for. After assuring the wooden vessel hadn’t sprung any leaks
during the day they pushed off embarking on a trip they knew was headed for hell. The
three mountain boys could feel hell was around the bend. They had travel rivers like
this many times.
At first the men lowered themselves as they had each night. If anyone did spot them
they wanted the tub to look empty. It has been raining so much they had no idea if the
idea was worth the discomfort. The tub was large but not big enough for three adults to
hid below the rim.
Lady Luck smiled on them. So far it was just another night with no one else on the
river. And this time they had a warning something was ahead. At first the noise was so
slight they would not have heard it if it hadn’t been quiet otherwise. After the din
produced by the rain the stillness of the air seemed eerie. Slowly the whisper grew in
volume. And as the din began to grow into a roar the lights in the distance grew in
brightness. But the lights were ignored as was the now emerging sounds of city life.
The men had something much more important to be concerned about. Three sets of
ears focused on the river’s roar, to determine how white the water was about to
become. Their hands grabbed the tub’s rim tight enough to turn white. Feet and backs
braced bodies. They tried to remember everything they knew about riding white water.
The only good thing was the deafening noise of water racing to whirl around and over
rocks. For the first time in days the men not only spoke they screamed.
The three were not sure where they were on the map. But they were sure of what they
were on top of, the Fall Line. Where the Coastal Plain stopped. Where the mountains
started. The point for a river’s last violence change in height above sea level. Rapidly
they shot a series of rapids. It happened so fast they didn’t have time to think. That they
were glad of. They did not want to think of the idea of riding the tub through this
torture. They would have quickly come to the same conclusion, they weren’t going to
make it. Rocking side to side, yawing, spinning around and getting splashed by what
felt like constant waves seem to occur at the same time. Time wise the trip was short,
but it took years off their life expectancy. The hands were not the only part of the body
now white.
As the boat stopped rocking the men tried to catch their breaths, if they could find
them. Each tried to think of a worst ride. None could. Up and down, side to side,
around and around all within five feet distance was not their idea of a ride in the
country. But they could not relax. Silence once again ruled.
Before they had a chance to look around they knew they were in a city. The amount
of light, sounds of humans and on the right bank was a massive building. Willie quickly
recognized the smell of iron. The other two looked at the strange faces he was making.
Neither knew why. Willie did. He lived only three blocks from one of those new iron
works in Pittsburgh. He had become familiar with the smell of iron turned liquid. That
special scent of coal and iron ore. At home he paid it no mind. With the new industrial
growth the odor was everywhere. But that was up north. This was the deep south. Why
was he detecting that aroma here? The rebels did not have any factories. Everyone
knew they had to import everything. But there was a building that sure looked and
smelt like an iron works. What would they pass next, a ship yard?
The moon beams bounced off the side and three hearts almost stop. No, that was not
possible. The rebels could not build something like that. They were just pitiful cotton
farmers with no ability to do anything else. But twenty feet above them on a ledge cut
into the side of the river bank was a ship. No, not just a ship but a gunboat and a damn
big one.
As the tub floated pass the men studied the vessel. Damn, it sure is big. Sammy had
seen several of the new strange looking monitors. But this was bigger. Had to be at
least two hundred feet long. And look at all that iron. Almost as if someone wanted him
to have a good look the clouds moved further apart and the moon shined brightly. And
what a view it was. Light bounced playfully off the unpainted iron. He was amazed the
iron coating extended below what should be the water line. With mouths, eyes and ears
open the three stared at the mass on the ledge. How did they build it up there?
Taking a last look the three had to admit it was a beautiful vessel. They did not have
any respect for southern security. Neither could believe they were passing through a
major city and ship yard and not one man had been seen. Did they have guards? The
three did have a new healthy respect for southern manufacturing. The ship was going
to be a fine addition to their fleet. Three hearts almost stopped again. Did their own
navy know about this? While still not sure where they were they did realize they were
far inland. The Union Navy might not know of this. What would happen if that monster
met an unprepared fleet?
With a new resolve the men floated around the bend and soon left the noise and
lights of the city behind. No matter what, they had to make it. They did not know they
still had 250 miles to go before they reach the Gulf of Mexico. That for the next four
weeks it would be much of the same. They did not know of the three towns they would
have to pass. They were not sure there would be a member of the Union blockading
fleet stationed at the mouth of the river when they arrived. And they would never be
aware of how close they came to the train’s final stop, Andersonville Prison. They did
not know they would spent Christmas 1864 on board the USS Adila.
energy bounded off lighting the sky above them. Three men looked up at the moon with
mixed feelings. Tonight would be the first time since they jumped they won’t fear the
darkness. Tonight they feared the light.
While soft, subtle and possessing an aura that stuck them as mystical the illumination
enabled them to see what they were doing and where they were going. The last several
nights had been horrible, nerve destroying horrible. Rain encased them in a shield of
water they had mixed feeling about. Indeed it was a two bladed sword. No one could
see them. They could move with some sense of security. Even if anyone else was
foolish enough to venture about the three would not be seen. A good thing. Most the
time they were traveling they had not be able to see the shore. A bad thing. Throughout
the nights they had been unable to see what lay ahead. A worst thing. Too many times
they avoided disaster at the last second. Too often the tub rocked to the point where
panic kept looking at them wondering if it was going to have some fun. There were no
warnings. No way to plan. They were at the mercy of the river. A spine chilling
experience.
And the water was cold. Almost as cold as the air. Whether in the rain or the river
the water was cold. A biting cold. Almost cold enough to freeze whatever it touched.
A cold that swept through a person then returned for some more abuse. A cold that
caused every bone in their bodies to ache. Their clothes were wet to the point the
material could not hold any more liquid sunshine. Even with a break in the rain the cold
would prevent their uniforms from drying out. It was a cold causing each to wonder
where they were. It was not suppose to be cold here. This was the land of eternal
summer. The land the sun kissed each morning. But at the moment the soil was not what
they wanted the sun to kiss.
During the four days the three learned the skill of talking with their eyes. They
looked at the moon, the river, the tub then at each other. Did they want to do this? No!
Did they want to continued? No! . . . Yes! This was better than the alternative.
Nothing was heard as three heads nodded it was time. They would rather freeze in hell
than roast there. For several minutes three sets of eyes scanned the surroundings.
Confidence they were alone branches were pulled off the large tub. Someone wasn’t
going to wash clothes for another day. What were they washing that required a tub this
size? They commented on how proficient they were becoming at doing things without
making a sound. A skill they were glad to have obtained but one they did not like the
reason for obtaining. This was not what they expected to be a part of. This was no
wagon ride among the cotton fields. But the tub offered a far better destination than the
one the train was headed for. After assuring the wooden vessel hadn’t sprung any leaks
during the day they pushed off embarking on a trip they knew was headed for hell. The
three mountain boys could feel hell was around the bend. They had travel rivers like
this many times.
At first the men lowered themselves as they had each night. If anyone did spot them
they wanted the tub to look empty. It has been raining so much they had no idea if the
idea was worth the discomfort. The tub was large but not big enough for three adults to
hid below the rim.
Lady Luck smiled on them. So far it was just another night with no one else on the
river. And this time they had a warning something was ahead. At first the noise was so
slight they would not have heard it if it hadn’t been quiet otherwise. After the din
produced by the rain the stillness of the air seemed eerie. Slowly the whisper grew in
volume. And as the din began to grow into a roar the lights in the distance grew in
brightness. But the lights were ignored as was the now emerging sounds of city life.
The men had something much more important to be concerned about. Three sets of
ears focused on the river’s roar, to determine how white the water was about to
become. Their hands grabbed the tub’s rim tight enough to turn white. Feet and backs
braced bodies. They tried to remember everything they knew about riding white water.
The only good thing was the deafening noise of water racing to whirl around and over
rocks. For the first time in days the men not only spoke they screamed.
The three were not sure where they were on the map. But they were sure of what they
were on top of, the Fall Line. Where the Coastal Plain stopped. Where the mountains
started. The point for a river’s last violence change in height above sea level. Rapidly
they shot a series of rapids. It happened so fast they didn’t have time to think. That they
were glad of. They did not want to think of the idea of riding the tub through this
torture. They would have quickly come to the same conclusion, they weren’t going to
make it. Rocking side to side, yawing, spinning around and getting splashed by what
felt like constant waves seem to occur at the same time. Time wise the trip was short,
but it took years off their life expectancy. The hands were not the only part of the body
now white.
As the boat stopped rocking the men tried to catch their breaths, if they could find
them. Each tried to think of a worst ride. None could. Up and down, side to side,
around and around all within five feet distance was not their idea of a ride in the
country. But they could not relax. Silence once again ruled.
Before they had a chance to look around they knew they were in a city. The amount
of light, sounds of humans and on the right bank was a massive building. Willie quickly
recognized the smell of iron. The other two looked at the strange faces he was making.
Neither knew why. Willie did. He lived only three blocks from one of those new iron
works in Pittsburgh. He had become familiar with the smell of iron turned liquid. That
special scent of coal and iron ore. At home he paid it no mind. With the new industrial
growth the odor was everywhere. But that was up north. This was the deep south. Why
was he detecting that aroma here? The rebels did not have any factories. Everyone
knew they had to import everything. But there was a building that sure looked and
smelt like an iron works. What would they pass next, a ship yard?
The moon beams bounced off the side and three hearts almost stop. No, that was not
possible. The rebels could not build something like that. They were just pitiful cotton
farmers with no ability to do anything else. But twenty feet above them on a ledge cut
into the side of the river bank was a ship. No, not just a ship but a gunboat and a damn
big one.
As the tub floated pass the men studied the vessel. Damn, it sure is big. Sammy had
seen several of the new strange looking monitors. But this was bigger. Had to be at
least two hundred feet long. And look at all that iron. Almost as if someone wanted him
to have a good look the clouds moved further apart and the moon shined brightly. And
what a view it was. Light bounced playfully off the unpainted iron. He was amazed the
iron coating extended below what should be the water line. With mouths, eyes and ears
open the three stared at the mass on the ledge. How did they build it up there?
Taking a last look the three had to admit it was a beautiful vessel. They did not have
any respect for southern security. Neither could believe they were passing through a
major city and ship yard and not one man had been seen. Did they have guards? The
three did have a new healthy respect for southern manufacturing. The ship was going
to be a fine addition to their fleet. Three hearts almost stopped again. Did their own
navy know about this? While still not sure where they were they did realize they were
far inland. The Union Navy might not know of this. What would happen if that monster
met an unprepared fleet?
With a new resolve the men floated around the bend and soon left the noise and
lights of the city behind. No matter what, they had to make it. They did not know they
still had 250 miles to go before they reach the Gulf of Mexico. That for the next four
weeks it would be much of the same. They did not know of the three towns they would
have to pass. They were not sure there would be a member of the Union blockading
fleet stationed at the mouth of the river when they arrived. And they would never be
aware of how close they came to the train’s final stop, Andersonville Prison. They did
not know they would spent Christmas 1864 on board the USS Adila.