The Journey A Civil War Odyssey

Damn Them, Damn them to hell!"

Martin Ballard stood in the center of the road cursing no one with the rain falling upon him, yet he did not seem to care or notice. The rain had soaked his clothes and dripped from every point on his body. He stood looking skyward, hands raised, fists clenched, as if calling on the Great Being for intervention.

"Why did you let them do this to me?" He screamed.

The words trailed off into a silent whisper as he turned his eyes from the heavens to the empty road. The road that only moments before was full of soldiers dressed in gray, the road that contained his hopes and dreams. Thunder from the heavens seemed to echo his disappointment as he stood in the road.

"Honey." Someone called.

The soft voice almost a whisper came from the small white house to his right. Martin turned to see his wife Mary standing on the porch, her long brown hair blowing slightly in the wind. Proud and stubborn, yet a bit shook after this last ordeal. She leaned slightly on the railing and looked out at her husband standing in the cold rain alone against the world, and feeling the hurt he held inside.

"They got it all Mary." Martin muttered.

He pointing his hand down the road as he spoke, drops of water dripping from his fingers as he pointed. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed in an apparent attempt to dramatize his statement. Martin slowly lowered his arm, and stood alone in the rain.

"Not all." She said.

Martin watched as his wife stepped into the mud that had formed on the ground in front of the stairs. She walked slowly toward him and took his hand in hers. She much like him did not seem to notice the rain.

"They left us a little, enough to get by on." She said.

While she felt the words were gentle and soothing Martin heard them as thunder,

and they stung like the lightning that flashed around them. He could not understand how she could accept what had happened so calmly. There was a rage deep inside him fighting to get out.

"Enough to get by on!'' He shouted."

Mary was taken aback at this explosion of her husband. Never had he raised his voice to her in all their years together. She had no idea how to respond to this new situation.

"Do you not understand what has happened?" He said, "We are ruined, they took everything, the food, the live stock, the horses, everything."

Martin's words were sharp and loud as he faced his wife. His eyes flashed with hatred, he was so enraged that he found it hard to speak another word. His mouth moved, but words did not come forth. He slowly lowered his head and choked back a tear.

"It's all gone." Martin sobbed, "Everything I have worked for, all I tried to do is gone. Oh my God why? Why has this happened to us?"

Martin felt like the entire world had ended. He bore a weight that was simply impossible to carry, a burden that no one else seemed to be able to understand. He felt empty like part of him was gone, an emptiness inside the likes of which he had never felt before.

Mary stepped close and cradled his head in her soft bosom. She held him there wishing there was some way to absorb a portion of his anger, a way to stop his pain, to sooth the hurt, but she could only hold him for a few short moments. She felt his muscles tense, and his breath became hard and fast as Martin turned again to the empty road, and in a mighty voice shouted to the great muddy lane.

"You'll pay; I swear to God I will make you pay!" Martin screamed,"I told you I didn't care about your war, but I do now, I hate you, I hate you all."

Mary took his hand, and held it close to her heart, she loved him more then anything else in the world, and he was starting to scare her. She knew something had to be done to get her husband off the road and into the house. Mary knew she had to first get his undivided attention.