In the surgeon's wagon

"Oh."

He looked at the slate. "The one at the bottom, that you said says 'bag'. That's got the same shapes as some of the ones in my name. A, and G - only I've got the officer one. And that one - the straight line and curvy thing." He pointed at the 'b'.

She grinned. "Very good. Clever student you are! That's what I was getting ready to show you, before I forgot about the juh sound in Jee. That there is a B. A letter B. Just like the buzzy kind of honey bee, and B says buh, like bag, and like Gabriel, and bottle, and able (which starts with an A) and big, and batman. Here's batman," she added, erasing George to write the word. "And here's big B and little b, and here's a buzzy bee with a B for wings."

"Slow down, lass. You're makin' me head spin!" He was smiling, though, as he said it.

"B for... dog? No, that sounds different. Um... b for bull? And bee... and that's its name, too? Bee like a honey bee?"

He looked at the piece of paper. "And it comes after A. Does that mean it isn't so important as A?"

(It's also B for 'bedtime'... I'm falling asleep, which is not good for Riflemen learning to read! )

"Yes, B for bull. And you could say Bee for bog, and Dee for dog. And no, it doesn't mean B is less important than A, but just that's the order they go in. Maybe like the order of regiments in a march? Though I don't know how they're ordered in the column. How are they ordered? But it's like numbers. 1 isn't more important than 2, they just mean different amounts. And spring isn't more important than summer, but it just comes before it."


[ooc - good night! (Starts with a G!)]

"I see. So my name is G - the officer one - then soldier a and soldier b. Then... what that one that looks like a shepherd's crook, a bit?"

"That's an R, for rrrr. Your name is spelt Jee, ay, bee, are, eye, ee, ell. The R says rrr, like growling, rrrrr! Or like robin, red, rifle, orrrange, marrrrmelade... That's R right there," she said, pointing to the letter on his paper. Then she wrote the letter and the word rifle on the slate. "Hmm, maybe the big R looks sort of like a rifleman, holding his rifle. Sort of. Here, I'll give him a shako!"

He looked at the slate. "More like an officer with a sword, if'n that's the big R, the officer one. Though they still wear shakos, of course, Rifle officers."

He wished his back would stop hurting, though concentrating on what Maggie was saying was helping a bit. He looked at her. "Won't the Captain be surprised that I'm learnin' to read?" he said. He looked at the slate again. "R for rifle. And... and rose." He turned his head to smile at her. "D'you like roses, Maggie?"

"Yes - I think. They're pretty, and they smell nice, and come in lots of different colors, right? And have those thorns?"

"Yes, but the smell's nicer'n the thorns are nasty. Used to have roses in the garden at home. Ma loved 'em, see." He shifted position enough to reach out with one hand and stroke her cheek. "I'll find you a rose, somewhere, even if it's only a wild one, a dog rose. To say thank you. Acause I don't know how else I can." He smiled. "Ain't every day you learn to read your own name, after all, lass."

"Oh, Gabe," she said quietly, "you don't need to say thank you." She was ashamed to be reminded of her indebtedness to him, embarrassed. "Ever. Ever again for anything."

He frowned a little. Indicating the slate, he said, "If this is because of the stripes on me back, I won't lie to you. It does hurt, and it hurts inside knowin' the Colonel thinks I'm a thief. But I'd've done it twice over to stop them hurtin' you. I wouldn't want you to be lying here, 'cause that'd make two of us, not one, 'cause they'd still have flogged me. And I'm sorry if me sayin' that's upset, you, sweeting."

He took her hand. "Remember what I promised? That I'd do me best by you, 'cause I want you to be happy. I said I'd look after you, and I meant it. Every word, Maggie, lass."

"I know," she said, lying down so her face was at eye level with his. "I just don't know how..." She didn't know how to put her thoughts into words. Perhaps she didn't even know what her thoughts were as she stared up at the wagon covering. "I don't know how I'm supposed to be." She turned her head and looked at him. "When it was happening, I felt like when Jem died. All over again. Only different because I was never there when he died, I never saw what happened, I only heard about it from the other riflemen later, and I could only imagine it, over and over, wishing I'd been there with him or wishing it had been me instead." She stopped, wondering if it was ungrateful or unkind to talk about her former sweetheart to Cotton in this way, but of course it was no secret to him that she had loved someone else, for many many years. And her thoughts were so confused that she had already lost the point of her own speech.

"And that's why you wanted to watch, 'cause you thought, somewhere inside, that if you didn't I might end up dead, like Jem?" He felt a lump come into his throat then. "I didn't know, lass, I never thought of that. But I didn't, I'm still here, and I'll be marchin' again afore you know it. Only me back'll never be quite the same, but that's all right."

He didn't want to upset her by talking of Jem, but he hoped that talking about her former sweetheart might help her a little.

"I think Jem would want you to be happy, lass. I know I would, if it was me."

"I don't really know. I don't know what I thought, or what I think, or any of it." She shivered and sat up to put his jacket on. She gave him a rueful smile. "When he said to stop, the colonel, I was that afraid... Private Williams was stopping me from running up. He must have thought I was touched in the head. He said you'd be fine. And here you are."

"Oh, Maggie." He was touched by her words. "Fifty ain't anythin' to worry about, not really. Some men get ten times that, and still manage to walk."

He wanted to hug her, to hold her close, but sitting up would only set his back afire again.

"Oh, my own Maggie, I don't know what to say. But I'm here, and it's over, and now I have to get better. And you'm helpin', what with learnin' me to read an' all."

She looked earnestly into his eyes. "I want to help however I can!"

"I know. And maybe you could change the bandages tomorrow? Only I don't want the surgeon tutting and everythin' like he done earlier."

He picked up the slate. "An' this is helpin', too, but I can still only spell half me Christian name. And that ain't much use." He smiled at her.

She gave him a little smile. "I think I can do that. And are you all settled with your letter R? R for rifle, and rose, and ear, and arrow, and green... Green starts with a G like Gabriel, and then has an r. Green."

"We c'n do green in a minute. I want to do Gabriel first. Then Cotton, if you don't mind."

He took the slate back, and pointed at each letter of his name in turn. "Jee, ay, bee, ar, then what's this one?"

"That's Eye. Like a stick pointing to poke out an eye, with that little dot. Eye can say ih, like India, or fish, or pig. And it can also say eye, like rifle - see it there? Or ice, or time, or pie. Or the word I, like I like pie. And sometimes it says eee, like in Maggie," and she wrote her name again on the slate. "In your name, it sort of says eee, I think. Gabreeee-el."

"That's a busy letter, then. Doin' all that."

He looked at the piece of paper, trying to find it on there. "Oh. The officer 'eye' looks almost like the soldier one," he said, finally finding it. "'Eye' for... icicly. Um, that's the ice spikes you get on the eaves, winter-time. Least, that's what we allus called 'em. Icicly and, um, ih... ink?"

"Yes, ink, and... icicly. We call 'em icicles, only I'm not sure how to spell that. I write letters home for people, and read letters to 'em, you know? Only nobody ever writes about icicles," she said, grinning. "The officer Eye doesn't have the dot like the little one though. Maybe the officer already got his eye poked with the stick."

"You wrote a letter for me, 'member?" he said. He looked back down at the slate. "So, I've got 'jee' for goat, 'ay' for acorn, 'bee' for bee, 'ar' for rifle and now 'eye' for ink. So those two say 'el'. 'Cause it's Gay-brih-yel." He looked back up at her. "What's the curly one called, then?"

"Clever you. That's an Eee. E can say eh, like egg, peg, Evans, Edrington, Jedediah - and that's what it's doing in your name. Gabreee-ehhhl. But it can also make an eee sound, like peas, cheese, eagle. And then, maybe its third duty is to be like the baggage train and come at the end of words, just to help them along in their duties. Like at the end of Maggie, and rifle. It's just there to help."



"Here, I made an E that looks like an eel. Or it's supposed to anyway!"

"Looks more like a snake," he said. "But then, eels do, a bit. So ee for eel. It don't sound right, sayin' ee for egg. That's eh, that is." He frowned. "Egg. That's got 'jee' in it, making the guh sound. eh-guh. Egg."

It wasn't as easy as it looked, really.

"There's lots to think about with this readin' stuff, though. I dunno how kids get so good at it."