Last Ghost at Gettysburg Read Online Free PDF

the
horrible burden of destiny?”
    She’s really got them , thought T.J. Some of the women are starting to tear up!
    “And so,” she continued with a sigh, “the two
great armies collided. For three bloody days we townsfolk hid in
our cellars as the village streets changed hands. Why, this house
alone came under both Yankee and Rebel occupation. After the battle
we found blood on the floor of this very garret where a Johnny Reb
had been winged while sharpshooting with a long distance rifle at
Union soldiers on the neighboring fields.
    “When it was over, the poor citizens of
Gettysburg emerged from their cellars to find the streets awash in
blood and filth and the surrounding fields littered with the
corpses of men, horses and cattle. Only one of our citizens had
been killed—poor Jennie Wade, who was shot in the back with a stray
bullet while baking bread in her kitchen—but we might as well all
have been dead, as the stench of carnage and decay hung over the
town for weeks afterward. Our homes all became makeshift hospitals
for hundreds of wounded, mutilated men, and it seemed like forever
until the thousands of dead were finally laid to rest, and the
animals burned in huge pyres.
    “As for my family, we were never the same.
Daddy took sick shortly afterward, and was gone by October. And we
never heard from my brother again.” She stood up, looking directly
at T.J. “But, thank God, my cousin Thomas has come, from the great
state of Connecticut, to help us put our lives back together!”
    At that, the entire assemblage turned and
gaped at T.J., who managed a weak wave while detecting a wry smile
creep across his cousin’s lips.
    “That ends our presentation, ladies and
gentlemen, if there are no questions. Thank you so much for your
patience. You’ve been a wonderful audience. Tips are
appreciated.”
    Satisfied, the people applauded politely and
filed out, dropping change and small bills into a labeled ceramic
jar by the garret door. When the last person had exited, LouAnne
glided over and gave T.J. as much of a hug as she could manage over
her cumbersome hoop skirt.
    “Not bad, Cuz,” said T.J. “You almost had me
bawling there.” The smell of her lilac perfume was intoxicating in
an old-fashioned way.
    “Ya think? Let’s see how much the touristas
loved it.” She dumped the contents of the jar onto a barrel top and
quickly counted it. “Twenty-one fifty? That’s all? Sheesh! I bared
my soul to those people!”
    “Well, I thought you did great.”
    “Yeah, well, I didn’t see you throwing
any dinero in the jar.”
    T.J.’s eyes widened. “Well, uh...” he
stammered.
    She laughed. “I’m just kidding, T.J. It’s
great to have you here. Welcome to Gettysburg.” She gave him a
quick peck on the cheek and he felt his face flush. “Now sit right
back down, my darling cousin. I’ve got one last tour group coming
up the stairs.”
    So T.J., his head spinning, reclaimed his
seat as a new audience filed in and took their places before the
girl who was looking forlornly out the window.
     

Chapter Six

    “Are you sure you want to walk home?” T.J.
asked. “You’re not tired?”
    “Nah,” said LouAnne as the last group made
their way out of the garret and down the wooden staircase. “Just
let me change downstairs and give Dad a ring to tell him we’re
walking. I’ve been cooped up all evening in that room and could use
some fresh air. Besides, it’ll give us a chance to catch up. It’s
only a mile and a half. You can wait outside the Inn. I’ll just be
a minute.”
    As T.J. stretched his legs out front, he
noticed that by 10:00 P.M. the town had quieted considerably, save
for clusters of tourists being led on some kind of walk by guides
dressed in period garb who held antique lanterns. A few early
summer fireflies danced in the small side yards of houses.
    “Okay, ready to go,” said LouAnne, bounding
down the steps in faded jeans and a Beatles “Abbey Road” tee shirt
that made him