"*Mine eyes have seen the glory of the comin' of the Lord;
He is tramplin' out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightnin' of His terrible swift sword,
His truth is marchin' on.*"
Mary heard the song drifting through the early morning air as she sat at
her kitchen table, cup of coffee in one hand. She paused as she brought
the cup to her lips and just listened as the soft, masculine voice
continued singing with heartbreaking clarity.
"*Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah! His truth is marching on.*"
Standing, she walked to her front door and stepped out onto the boardwalk.
Letting her ears lead, she followed the sound down the street.
"*I have seen Him in the watchfires of a hundred circlin' camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the evenin' dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flarin' lamps,
His day is marchin' on.*"
It was coming from the graveyard. She saw a figure standing there, facing
the rising, early-July sun. His stance was rigid, shoulders back, long
hair blowing in the faint breeze that drifted across the desert-like
landscape.
It was Vin.
"*He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is siftin' out the hearts of men before His Judgement Seat.
Oh! Be swift, my soul, to answer Him, be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marchin' on.*"
A crack broke Vin's soft voice as he sang the last line, and he paused.
Mary saw his head drop forward, and was shocked to see a hitching sob lift
his shoulders. "Vin?" she said softly, pausing at the edge of the
graveyard.
The tracker swivelled around to face her, and the widow felt her heart
break when she saw the tears that stood in his eyes. "Miz Travis? What
are you doin' here so early?" She could tell he was trying to act like
nothing was wrong.
Coming forward, Mary laid a hand on his arm. "Mr. Tanner, what's wrong?"
The bounty hunter looked quickly away, his eyes focusing on the scarlet
sky of the rising sun. "Ain't nuthin, Miz Travis. Nuthin you need worry
yourself over."
//Like hell it isn't// she thought. "Mr. Tanner, it is obviously
something. Please tell me what it is. I might be able to help you."
Vin shook his head and cast his gaze to the ground at his feet. "Ain't
nuthin can be done about it, Miz Travis. It happened a long time ago.
Long time ago. I just....just can't let it go is all."
"Let what go?"
His eyes drifted back up to the horizon. "Gettysburg, ma'am."
Mary sucked in a quick breath. "Gettysburg? Were you there?" At his
silent nod, the widow stepped closer. "Oh, Vin, I'm so sorry. You must
have been so young then." Her own heart was breaking as she thought of
this good-hearted man being forced to fight in such a bloody battle of
brother against brother.
Vin nodded but didn't look at her. "Reckon I was about fifteen or so.
Couldn't have been much older." He blinked, and Mary saw a tear slide
down his cheek. "Lost lots of buddies in that battle, Miz Travis.
Watched lots of fellas die, Yankee and Reb. I tried, but I just ain't
been able to let that go."
Mary nodded. "It's understandable, Vin. You can't ever forget something
like that."
The tracker hardly seemed to notice she'd spoken, however. "I saw Shep,
my best friend, when he went down. Got cut in half by artillery fire. I
tried to help him, but....but, he was already dead when I got there." A
deep sob emanated from his throat. "I never found his legs."
Mary felt tears slip from her own eyes, and she dashed them away with her
hand. "Oh, Vin. Oh, God, I'm so sorry. You should never have had to
experience that."
Vin looked at her then, and the tears ran openly down his cheeks. "They
all wanted their mothers. It was awful, ma'am, hearin' them all call for
their mommas like their hearts would break. Union and Confederate
alike. And weren't nuthin I could do for any of them." He looked away,
his eyes drifting over the gravestones that surrounded them. "I wonder
why I lived and they didn't, Miz Travis. I wonder that a lot."
Mary took his face between her hands and turned him to face her. "You are
a good man, Vin Tanner," she said firmly, feeling his tears on her palms.
"You are a good man, and it isn't your fault that they died. And it isn't
a bad thing that you lived. The good you've done for people throughout
your life should prove that to you."
Vin shook his head in a nonconcillatory fashion. "Maybe so, Miz Travis,"
he said, and she could feel his body tensing as sobs built up inside him.
"But..I miss them so much." He let his eyes close and took several deep
breaths to try and calm himself. "And I figure, if I can't forget, I
might as well remember." he said softly, taking her hands between his and
slowly lowering them. "So every July, on the first, second and third
day, I sing that song to them. All of them. 'Cause weren't a one of them
deserved to die like that."
"That's a beautiful thing to do, Vin," she said softly.
He nodded. "It's just so....so hard." Another hiccuping sob tore through
him. "God," he moaned, "oh God, why did it have to happen? Why did they
have to die? Oh God." Mary felt him start to sink to the ground, sobs
tearing at his body, and she went down with him, gathering him in her arms
and feeling him cry against her, deep wrenching sobs that shook his form.
"Shhh, Vin," she murmured. "It's all right. It's going to be all right."
"*I-In the b-beauty of the lilies, C-Christ was born across the-the sea*,"
he tried to sing through his tears, the words coming out stilted and
rough. "*W-with a g-glory in his bosom th-that transf-figures you a-and
me-*"
"*As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,*" Mary
finished for him, tears in her own voice, as he collapsed against her
again. "*While God is marching on.*"
And they huddled there, in the burgeoning daylight, the lean tracker
wrapped in the widow's arms, and remembered.
The End
