The Incredible Journey of Thomas Johnson

 

Copyright© 2017 – Nicholas Hall

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

"When the voices of children are heard on the green

And laughing is heard on the hill

My heart is at rest within my breast

And everything else is still."

(William Blake –`Songs of Innocence- Nurse's Song')

 

The Grandmother I Wished For

 

Captain Randolph indicated he'd be ready to ride to Farmington shortly after eight in the morning. Having risen at my usual time, shortly after dawn, I now waited, astride a gentle bay mare horse, at the junction of the main road and the road leading to our landing on the Des Moines River, where he and his troop were encamped. I mused to myself how much I'd learned and experienced in my short stay in this century, sans those conveniences I had available to me in my time, 1983. Saddling and riding a horse (or mule, for that matter) hadn't been a factor in my life's experiences prior to this; riding a motorcycle, yes, but now, not only could I saddle a horse but seat one reasonably well also. I wasn't as proficient or skilled at the task as many others, but at least could ride fast or slow without falling off!

I was a little early for our rendezvous, but I was anxious and excited! Squirming a bit in the saddle, trying to ease, not from the horse I should hasten to add, what discomfiture still remained from Jefferson spending the night with me, reminding me I'd been pleasantly and completely filled to overflowing more than once during the night. The trip to the outhouse, once I'd awaken, cleaned out any residual of his seminal fluids so at least, I thought, I shouldn't dribble his deposits into my britches or on the saddle. That young man is a virtual "Old Faithful Geyser" when he begins to shudder and shove his prod in as deep as he possibly can until his belly is fitted tightly into the curve of my back, pubes and crotch jammed up against the mounds of my butt, and his back is arched, straining to somehow force his balls into my bowels to join his prodigious cock!

"Yep," I said aloud, "he's quite the Jefferson!"

Captain Randolph and his small contingent of mounted infantry appeared as promised, interrupting my thoughts, and we rode toward Farmington. The city was actually closer than I realized; some distance shorter than going to Keokuk. The difficulty of translating distance and time traveling by horse in this century was only exacerbated, in my mind, from my twentieth century experiences of traveling by automobile and motorcycle. What would take me an hour or less in my times, could take a full day or more here!

Captain Randolph made periodic soirees' into Farmington and the surrounding area to the northwest of where his troop was encamped as well as those same journeys toward Keokuk in what he termed a "show of force" just to let people know the army was around to keep the peace and discourage any nonsense by those bent upon mischief! He also stopped in various businesses as well as the local banks for the same reason. It seemed to reassure the bankers and businesses all was well, or at least under control. Of particular interest each time was the local railroad station to check on the trains and the telegraph system. These were both highly important to the security of the region, providing fast transportation and even faster communication. On this particular visit he also wanted to stop in the Iowa Soldier's Orphan's Home established there.

"It is my understanding," he explained, "Mrs. Annie Turner Wittenmyer is going to be there and I'd like to express my regards to her and thank her for all she has accomplished. Mrs. Wittenmyer was most instrumental in establishing the home for orphans of men who served the Union Army during the Civil War. She used her considerable communication skills and personal influence to raise the funds to build the home," he went on to say.

We arrived at the gates to the grounds and leaving the troop there, dismounted, led our mounts to the hitching rails outside the Home, and waited for someone to give us leave to enter. Casting my eyes about as we waited, I could see children playing the on the grounds and hear them in conversation either participating in lessons or with others inside the building. An aide to Mrs. Wittenmyer bade us to enter and were ushered into a small office where she waited. I was curious where the children slept, in dormitories or sleeping rooms, and where they had their classes, but I had no chance to observe any of that or even ask about them.

I was immediately captivated by Mrs. Wittenmyer's smile and the very force of a strong personality exuding from her as she extended her hand in welcome first to the Captain and, upon introduction, to me. As I observed her, there was little doubt left in my mind she deserved to be known, since she was as far I was concerned, one of the most well-known women of her time in Iowa. Although a native of Ohio, she brought to her adopted state compassion and the desire to help do for those who couldn't do for themselves. During our brief visit I became more and more impressed with not only her vision for the young people living in the Home through her actions, but her strong persuasiveness and genuine and sincere love for the children in residence there. There really is no way to express my heartfelt, deep emotional attraction, the depth of my thankfulness for her, and the warmth I felt when I was near her!

Our conversation began to wind down and she mentioned to Captain Randolph, "We've become so crowded here, we're in the process of constructing a new home at Cedar Falls, but the Army now has offered a second facility, through considerable effort on our part, the deserted buildings of Camp Kinsman in Davenport to the Iowa Soldier's Orphan's Association. We've accepted their generous donation and hope to move there this fall, so our visits with you will come to end, temporarily I hope, since I understand Davenport's where your home is."

Captain Randolph with a small bow; "Yes, dear friend, you're correct. My family is there and my actual post is at the Rock Island Arsenal with the Army Corps of Engineers, so I shall be returning there once I'm released from this temporary duty."

The news from both of them excited me; the site at Camp Kinsman was the forerunner of the "Annie Wittenmyer Home" I spent my early years in. If I should ever return, I could also seek to see if any of Captain Randolph's relatives still lived in the area. How would I ever approach them since I had first-hand knowledge of their ancestor and the Home and they didn't?

As she finished telling us the good news and as we prepared to leave, Mrs. Wittenmyer did a very strange thing; she walked up to me, gave me a strong hug and said, "Those children who have no one else and know not from whence they came will love the home, don't you think, Thomas Johnson?" and gave me a kiss on my cheek!

Holy crap! She used my real name, not the French interpretation! What the hell was going on? Flabbergasted, almost speechless, I mumbled sincerely as I looked straight into her eyes, "Yes, Mam, I know for a fact they will!"

With that, we left and continued on about the Captain's business. It was difficult for me to pay attention to what he was saying and doing, my mind all akimbo, and my thoughts returning to my encounter with that marvelous lady! Never would I've ever thought I'd have the opportunity to meet and visit with her. Of course, I never thought I'd be transported back in time either!

We continued through the community, "showing the colors" as the Captain put it, visiting the two banks, hardware store, livery stables, general stores, and finally the railroad station and telegraph office. It was there, at the railroad station, my interest was piqued by a question the station agent asked Captain Randolph concerning the progress of the spur line from Keokuk to Farmington. Up to this point in time, I had no idea one was even being considered, but evidently it was well on the way.

Captain Randolph thought a moment before replying, "I should think it should be completed within the next year. There are still some right-of-way agreements in the process of being negotiated, but a good deal of track has been laid from Keokuk to the point where our current agreements are taken care of and, as you know, several miles from Farmington in the direction of Keokuk."

No more was said concerning the matter and I asked no questions, hoping Captain Randolph would assume I knew what section of land he was referring to. I really didn't have a fucking clue, but I was hopeful it concerned Chapman land up along the river. If it were, we might very well have three problems; first, access to our landing, which would become a moot point if, and only if, we were able to secure a rail siding for our use; two, access to the property Gabriel was farming if the rail line separated it from the rest of Chapman land so we would have to push to have the rails pass between his place and the river, and; just who in the hell was doing the negotiating and why didn't I see a record of it ? Perhaps, I'd have to check with Mr. Chapman concerning that little detail!

The possibilities for profitable enterprises would be expanded greatly if we had rail access and a siding. Chapman Farms could expand its cattle and hog production and ship those critters live, via rail, to market or to slaughter houses. Currently, the cattle were grazed with some grain and hay during winter, and the hogs were generally pastured, although confined to large pastures containing oak timber and other forage. We did supplement their diet with some corn. At this point, the hogs were raised for our own use and not for sale. If we had rail access, we could ship hogs rather than drive them to market as some farmers did. These were not the hogs I was used to such as "Poland China" or "Durocs" but "razor-backed" hogs of the era.

We could increase the grain fed to the hogs and get them fatter and off to market sooner, and sell any excess grain not needed for our own use. It was a big project, but very doable. The Farm could also increase coal production, especially with our recent purchase of high ground, and sell the excess we didn't use here to customers in Keokuk and elsewhere.

I brought my over-active mind to a screeching halt! Here I was, making long-range plans for the future and I had no idea there would be a future for me here. The same catastrophic event that catapulted me back in time could very well rocket me forward and back to the Twentieth Century without notice. The dilemma I faced still existed; did I wish to return or stay here, where I loved, was loved, and felt more at home than any time previously in my life?

The presence of Federal troops seemed to calm the population and give them confidence. The Captain felt, and I agreed with him, the sight of the blue uniformed troopers traveling about the small towns and adjacent countryside did much to discourage those who might decide to be mischief makers and cause trouble.

The Captain made several stops on the way back home to visit some of the small farms. He did little else but chat a minute with the farmers, give them a friendly handshake, reassure them the Army was here to protect them, and we'd ride on. At one point he expressed his desire to know how I felt about the new home being established at Davenport. I could do little else but say how wonderful I thought it would be.

He finally said, "You seemed quite impressed with Mrs. Wittenmyer and she seemed equally impressed with you."

I merely nodded, acknowledging it, "I was very much impressed; I'm certain she'll do down in history as a wonderfully foresighted woman and reside in the hearts of those who her efforts served for as long as they live."

I could say little else without tearing up in thankfulness for having a place to live and be loved early in my life! Oh, I knew more than I was saying aloud to Captain Randolph. I knew well the story of Sarah Annie (Turner) Wittenmyer and her charitable, philanthropic, and historic contributions not only to the orphans of our State, but to the entire United States. During my early childhood at the Home in Davenport, I delighted in hearing the staff relay to me the story of how she came to Iowa from Ohio; how she was well-educated (almost unheard of in those days), came from a fairly wealthy family, married the prosperous merchant William Wittenmyer, settled in Keokuk, Iowa, became active in church and charitable works, and finally ended up as an agent for the Iowa State Sanitation Commission during the Civil War.

It was through her position, if I remembered correctly, which led to the establishment of the Iowa Soldiers Orphan home, the predecessor of the Annie Wittenmyer Home where I spent my early years. It was to her I owed my very existence, my strengths, my fortitude, and my humanitarianism, I thought!

I grew up with no mother or father and no grandmother; a grandmother to hold me on her lap and tell me what a good boy I was even though I may have been naughty as the devil; to brush my hair and wash my face and brow, telling me as she did so, what beautiful child I was even if I thought I was as ugly as sin when I peered into a mirror and; to hold me close to her breast and chase away all my fears, rocking me to sleep when the thunderstorms of life wakened me, frightening me, and sending the shivery, scary devils of the night back from whence they came!

To me, Annie Wittenmyer is all of those, although I'd never met her until today, she had been the grandmother I never had and always wanted! There was no way I could verbalize all of this to Captain Randolph! If I said any more, I was certain the good Captain would slap me in irons and have me carted off to a lunatic asylum! Nope, didn't want that, thank you very much!

It was almost dark when I finally arrived home. Entering the kitchen, for the purpose of making a sandwich to slack my hunger, I was surprised to find Celeste and Hannibal Doucet sitting at the kitchen table, each sipping a glass of wine. I inquired concerning their late evening cordial, something they rarely did especially after a hard day's work such as we were experiencing now during planting season, and with a smile Celeste said simply, "Sarah and Leticia both decided to bring a fine boy each into the world today and Hannibal and I are celebrating his first grandbabies, and both boys!"

Hannibal beamed his pride and received my congratulations and best wishes for both families. According to Celeste, the births, although quite easy for the mothers, were several hours apart and once Celeste left Leticia's side, she was summoned post-haste to Sarah's some few miles away to assist her. Celeste evidently was quite experienced at being a mid-wife, having assisting her doctor father in New Orleans and delivering numerous babies when they lived at High Oaks before moving north. Her reputation as a healer and mid-wife was well known around here as well and there were times she was quite busy with both.

Hannibal wanted to know how my trip to Farmington was with the Captain and I relayed I'd enjoyed it tremendously, although my backsides did ache a bit from sitting astride a horse much of the day. I said not a word concerning the right-of-way issues I was rolling around in my mind, but did ask him to consider what it might take to increase our hog and cattle production someday.

Departing the kitchen, I stopped by the wine cabinet in the main house, poured myself a nice glass of red, carried it, along with my sandwich, to my office where I sat at my desk, ate and drank at leisure while I made note of my thoughts and sketched out some future plans for use of the rails. The day's activities, along with the wine, finally began taking toll on my body and I grew tired.

In my room, I stripped naked, blew out the lamp, and climbed into bed intending to get a full night's sleep. Dawn and work came early and we had some busy days before us. I missed the Benjie and Henri something terrible, but I knew they were experiencing a once in a lifetime historical event. I rolled over on my side and as I did so, I heard my bedroom door open and a few footfalls later, the sounds of clothing slipping to the bedroom floor, and Jefferson's naked, warm body slid into bed tight up against mine!

Since the boys left, I'd noticed Jefferson had become a regular bedmate of mine. At first I thought it was for sexual pleasure and release, both on his part and mine, but it finally dawned on me, when Jefferson snuggled bare front to bare front, there was more to his visit than just sexual release. He was taller than me, but tonight he chose to lay his head on my breast, resting the top of his head just under my chin, the side of his face laying easy on my chest. Placing one arm across me, pulling me closer and by doing so, extended a silent invitation to hug him. My arms securing him in a loving hug, I felt a shudder go through his body; not like the shudder when he'd orgasm, spewing his bounty into whatever orifice he happened to be in at the time or all over his hand, but almost one of sadness! It was confirmed when I felt a tear moisten my breast!

I pulled him even closer, kissed the top of his head and asked softly, "Lonely?"

He nodded and nodded again when I asked if he was missing the boys. We lay there quietly for a minute or so, but it seemed his sadness deepened as he began softly crying, a heart-breaking, lament as if something was lost in his life.

"Did you and Isiah have a fight?" I inquired.

The tears flowed even more.

My next question, "Was he jealous because you're spending so much time with me?" was met with another shake of the head signaling that wasn't the cause of his sadness.

"Well, Jefferson," I offered gently, "it must have been something to cause you such sadness?"

"He found someone else," Jefferson finally confessed.

Oh boy, I thought, this is going to be interesting. How do I stave off problems between estranged lovers? I wondered what young man and Isiah were now sleeping together.

"Who?"

"Jessica, one of the new settler's daughters!"

Well, I'll be damned and double-damned; Isiah jumped the tracks and was driving his engine into another station, shoveling his coal into another boiler, stoking another head of steam, and leaving Jefferson, who preferred a different line, behind!

"Well, not to worry," I said confidently, "you have me and the boys and we love you just as much or probably more so you're welcome to be with us anytime you wish."

Jefferson sniffed up a sob, gave me a kiss on my lips, leaned back, and asked, "Do you think I'll ever find someone who I will love as much as you love Benjie, Henri, and me and he will love me the same?"

"Jefferson," I replied, "there's no doubt a handsome, young man such as yourself, strong, intelligent, and lovable, will find just the perfect man or boy of your dreams. He'll be just as impressed with you as we are."

"Yeah," he snickered, tears drying up, "especially impressed with my big cock!"

To be continued.

***

Thank you for reading "The Incredible Journey of Thomas Johnson" – Chapter Eighteen.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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