The Hill Beyond

           The Hill Beyond

Suzanne Marsh

The old man huddles in the corner of Tin Man Saloon, his blue woolen jacket tight around him, faded Sergeant stripes on the sleeves. How long had he been on this drunk? Had to be at least a week according to his calculations. The saloon keeper kept an eye on the old man. No one knew who he was or how he arrived in Fate, Texas. The Second Rebellion had been over for fifty years, why was he clothed in a Union jacket with butternut homespun pants? Folks often asked that question here in Fate, but no one knew. The old man ignored his queries, he was here for one reason, he was looking for his twin brother, the brother he had not seen in fifty years. When the second rebellion began one chose to fight for the blue the other gray. He hoped time had been better for his brother than himself. He had been to so many small Texas towns looking for his brother, the trail seemed to end here in Fate, Texas.

Tom Drummond rode into town every Saturday night, drank at the Tin Man until dawn, staggered onto Main Street, mounted his horse, and rode home. His father Matt Drummond owned most of Fate, Texas, Tom had free reign to do as he wished, the sheriff would not arrest him. Tom was a sociable sort, he noticed the old man hunched over in the corner. He strode over to him:

“Hey, you old man how about havin' a drink with me?”

The old man looked up reluctantly at Tom:

“Boy, go git drunk someplace else, this here is my spot.”

Tom Drummond glared at the old man, there was something familiar about him but what? Tom staggered away from where the old man sat; he thought maybe when he sobered up he would find the old man, find out who he was, and most importantly, why he looked familiar.

The following Saturday Tom rode into town on his big blood bay horse, sitting tall in his saddle. He tied the horse to the hitching post outside the Tin Man. He walked over to the old man sitting in the corner, gasping for breath, blood on his handkerchief.

Tom pulled up a chair and sat down, the old man growled:

“Git outta here boy, I just wanna have some peace, I ain’t got long. Hey you a man by the

name of Jigger Drummond?” Tom wasn’t drunk yet but hearing his father’s nickname caused him to sit up with a start across from the old man. Tom, took several deep breaths:

“Why you looking for Jigger Drummond old man?”

The old man did not like this boy, he was asking way too many questions:

“Git lost boy now afore I say something I shouldn’t.”

Tom was becoming confused, who was this old man? How did he know his father’s nickname around here everyone called him Big Tom. He thought about riding back to the ranch, telling his father about this strange old man who looked eerily familiar to him, yet he had never met the man. Strangers did not stay in Fate long.

Tom decided he would ask the old man again who he was, the old man backhanded him. Tom stood there, rubbing his face and wondering who this old man was. He headed home sober for a change; and met his father at the door. Big Tom was astonished to see his son sober on a Sunday morning:

“Tom son are you okay? You’re as sober as a judge on Monday morning.”

Tom had no idea how he was going to answer his father since he really had no idea why either:

“Pa, there’s an old man in town; lookin fer Jigger Drummond.”

Big Tom had an uneasy feeling, the only person who ever dared to him Jigger was his brother, Jake, was it possible that Jake might still be alive? What a thought, their Pa had received a letter from the war department notifying him that his son was killed in action by a mine ball. Had the War Department made some sort of horrible mistake? Big Tom looked at his son ruefully:

“Tom, what did the old man look like? Did he look like me? I had a twin brother, he fought for the Union, and was killed at Gettysburg.”

Tom was totally taken aback, he never knew about his father’s brother, and he wondered what else he did not know. He decided to talk to his mother Lucinda about this matter, but nothing made any sense to him. He thought about the old man in the Tin Man saloon, was this man his uncle Jake, who he had never met.

Lucinda Drummond sat quietly in a rocking chair enjoying a beautiful spring day, the birds were singing, her roses were blooming everything was right with the world. Tom came out the front door as Lucinda continued to rock:

“Good morning ma, how is my favorite gal? ‘ Lucinda giggled like a school girl:

“I’m just fine how about you?”

Tom smiled down at her, she was still beautiful at sixty-nine:

“Ma, I met an old man in town at the Tin Man, I asked Pa what happened between the

brothers ma?”

Lucinda the years seemed to melt away from her face as she began:

“Tom your pa and his brother Jake fought on different sides, one wore blue, one wore gray, the

Drummond's house was a house divided. Jake loved the Union, he was already in the Union

army when the Second War of Rebellion took place, the Civil War. It broke Simon

Drummond’s heart when your Pa marched off to war. He came back, he married me, but

I was not in love with him, I was in love with Jake. When old Simon received the letter

about Jake, he locked himself in his library, and refused to come out for two weeks, when he

finally did, he collapsed and died. Your pa has not been the same since that day. I love

your pa, Tom he is a good man but I don’t love him the way I loved Jake. Why do you ask?”

He told her then about the old man who looked familiar and how he asked about Jigger. Lucinda turned pale:

“Tom, I want you to take me to him, I have to know after all these years.”

Tom hitched up the buckboard and pulled around to the front porch. He helped Lucinda onto the seat and jumped up grabbing the reins. They went into town, Tom went into the saloon, and there was the old man huddled under his blue jacket. Tom strode over to him:

“Sir, a lady outside that would like to see you.” The old man eyed him suspiciously:

“Boy, you say a lady? What lady?”

Tom looked the old man straight in the eye:

“Her name is Lucinda Drummond, she is my ma.”

Tears filled his eyes at the mention of her name, Tom knew then that Lucinda had been Jake’s girl, not his pa’s:

“Help me up boy, I want to see Lucinda before I leave.”

Tom helped him up:

“You can’t leave, not yet, Ma wants to see you and Pa is waiting at the ranch, you gotta

come.”

The old man had a limp; his body was misshapen from a mine ball that passed through both hips.

Lucinda sat in a chair close to the door of the Tin Man waiting. Tom got the old man out the door of the saloon and he held onto him as he saw Lucinda, not the gray-haired beauty but the long brown-haired beauty from fifty years ago. They hugged one other, and Jake began to cough uncontrollably; scaring Lucinda and Tom. They got him into the buckboard, and he lay silently most of the way. He had dreamed of one day seeing Jigger again, the fight they had was dumb, to begin with, all these wasted years.

Big Tom heard the buckboard, and he came out on the front porch to see what the ruckus was all about. Tom helped Jake out of the back of the buckboard, Big Tom, tears rolling down his cheek ran to his brother:

“Oh God Jake, I never gave up hope neither did Pa or Lucinda. Where have you been? They

said you were killed at Gettysburg.”

Jake was so weak they barely got him into the house before he asked to sit down. Lucinda prepared a room for him.

Jake Drummond passed away that night knowing that he was home, just over the hill.