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"I doubt Willie has it in him to shoot anyone," Jim said.
"Do you?"
"If they come down here, I figure they've asked for it."
"I doubt if it was easy for Willie to come here. Don't rob him of his self-respect," Robert said, rising to his feet, pressing a palm down on Jim's shoulder.
"Your father owns over a hundred and eighty niggers, Robert. You ought not to be lecturing to the rest of us."
"You're entirely right, Jim," Robert said. He winked at Jim and walked toward the recruitment table, where Willie Burke had just used quill and ink to enter his name among a long list of French and Spanish and Anglo-Saxon ones, many of them printed by an enlistment officer and validated by an X.
But Robert soon realized Jim's premonitions about their friend were probably correct, that the juncture of Willie Burke and the Confederate army would be akin to a meeting of a wrecking ball and a crystal shop.
Captain Rufus Atkins stepped out of a tent, in a gray uniform and wide-brimmed ash-colored hat with a gold cord and a pair of tiny gold icons tied around the crown. A blond man, his hair as greasy as tallow, wearing a butternut uniform with corporal's chevrons freshly sewn on the sleeves, stood behind him. The corporal's name was Clay Hatcher.
"Where do you think you're going, young Willie?" Atkins asked.
"Back home," Willie answered.
"I think not," Atkins replied. He looked out at the lake and the moss blowing in the trees, the four-o'clocks riffling in the shade. "One of the privies needs dipping out. After you finish that, spread a little lye around and that will be it until this evening. By the way, are you familiar with the poetry of William Blake?"
"Never heard of him," Willie replied.
"I see. Better get started, young Willie. Did you bring a change of clothes?" Atkins said.
"Excuse me, sir, but I didn't join the army to ladle out your shit-holes. On that subject, can you clear up a question that has bedeviled many in the community? Is it true your mother was stricken with the bloody flux when you were born and perhaps threw the infant away by mistake and raised the afterbirth instead?"
The corporal to the side of Rufus Atkins pressed his wrist to his mouth to stop from snickering, then glanced at Atkins' face and sucked in his cheeks.
"Let me gag and buck him, Cap'n," he said.
Before Atkins could answer, Robert Perry walked up behind Willie.
"Hello, Captain!" Robert Perry said.
"How do you do, Master Robert?" Atkins said, bowing slightly and touching his hat. "I saw you signing up earlier. I know your father is proud."
"My friend Willie isn't getting off to a bad start in the army, is he?" Robert said.
"A little garrison duty, that's all," Atkins said.
"I'm sure if you put him in my charge, there will be no trouble," Robert said.
"Of course, Master Robert. My best to your father," Atkins said.
"And to your family as well, sir," Robert said, slipping his hand under Willie's arm.
The two of them walked back toward the lake to join Jim Stubbefield at the cypress tree. Willie felt Robert's hand tighten on his arm.
"Atkins is an evil and dangerous man. You stay away from him," Robert said.
"Let him stay away from me," Willie replied.
"What was that stuff about William Blake?"
"I have a feeling he found a book I gave to a Negro girl."
"You did what?" Robert said.
