Going
Cordia’s parents and Frieda were dumbfounded hearing her declare she was intending to drive into a war zone.
“Cordia,” her mother was saying, “you can’t possibly be serious.” To look at her, however, they could tell that Cordia was definitely steadfast. She had already gotten two traveling gowns out of the closet and a bag for her essentials.
“Cordia, calm down,” her father said, lightly grabbing her arm, in her mind causing a loss of precious time. “You can’t just go galloping off to Springfield in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t be safe.”
“I don’t care,” she insisted, shaking her arm free. “I’ll be fine. I know how to shoot a gun. I’ll take one with me. I am not going to sit here for one more minute waiting for someone to tell me that the man I love—or his cousin—is dead!” She turned around and flung open a drawer and began to pack her bag. Her parents were talking to each other quietly, but she didn’t take the time to listen to what they were saying.
“Fine,” her father finally relented. “I’ll go with you.”
“You can’t go, Daddy. This town would fall apart if you left it for even one day. I’ll go by myself.” Once again, her parents were whispering. Her father knew as well as she did that he could not leave the bank without people thinking there had been some sort of run on it. Not with things the way they were in the state just now.
“Listen,” Cordia said, pausing her packing for a moment. “I don’t know why y’all are bothering to argue with me. You been telling me my whole life there ain’t no use in arguing with someone as strong-willed as I am. I love you both immensely, but I can tell you right now there ain’t nothing you can say that’s gonna stop me from going to Springfield today.”
It was Frieda who spoke up next, “Lord A’mighty!” she declared. “Don’t either one of you have enough sense just to tell the girl no?” All three of them stopped and looked at her now. Frieda was known for speaking her mind, but they were all very certain she had forgotten her place this time. Yet, she continued. “I’m sorry—I mean no disrespect. I know better than anyone what good people you all are. But I have to say, I think you’re all plumb out of your minds if you let Miss Cordia go riding off to Springfield in the middle of a war, all by herself.”
“Frieda’s right,” her father was saying. “I’ll go down to the bank in a bit and let them know I won’t be in for a day or so. We will ride to Springfield together. Now, go back to bed and rest, and I will let you know when it’s time to go. All right, darling?”
Cordia looked from one face to another. She knew she could not win this argument. Reluctantly, she nodded, putting the garments she had gathered down on top of her dresser and crossing back over to the bed. Her mother stood so that she could climb back between the sheets. “Now, there, there, dear,” her mother said soothing her hair.
The three of them turned and walked back out the door, still lamenting Cordia’s state of mind. Cordia waited until she heard all three doors close and her father snoring before she arose and began to go back about her packing. She was willing to do whatever it took to get to Springfield immediately, even if it meant sneaking out.
Cordia had the horses hitched up, her bag, and a shotgun she had procured from her father’s gun cabinet mounted beneath the wagon seat and was just about to climb aboard when Frieda came flying out the side door, moving faster than Cordia had ever seen her short little legs carry her. “Now, what in the world do you think you’re doing, Miss Cordia?” she was yelling.
Without pausing, Cordia shouted over her shoulder, “I think you know precisely what I’m doing.”
Frieda grabbed her by the arm. “You know I can’t let you do that!” Frieda replied sternly.
Shaking her arm off, Cordia climbed atop the seat. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me,” she replied. She grabbed the reins and gave them a quick shake. Frieda looked around in despair. She had to know she wouldn’t have time to go back in and get Cordia’s father. She must have realized her options were dwindling. Without another moment of hesitation, she threw herself into the back of the wagon, refusing to let Cordia go alone. “What are you doing?” Cordia asked once she realized what Frieda had done.
“I’m a’comin’ with you,” she replied, out of breath.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cordia replied, not slowing the carriage a bit.
“Well, you’ve left me little choice, young lady,” Frieda replied.
Though Cordia was reluctant to take Frieda with her, she was glad that she would not have to make the journey alone. She gave the reins another jerk, pushing the horses forward, ready to find out exactly what had happened to Jaris and Will once and for all.
The sun was still not up as they made their way out of town. Cordia had slowed down enough to allow Frieda to crawl over the back of the seat and join her in the front portion of the wagon. She knew the way very well until they got outside of the county. Then, she would have to rely on Frieda’s familiarity with the roads. Many years ago, Cordia and her mother had gone on a short trip to visit some family friends in Springfield. At the time, her father had given them the names of some business relations of his who would be happy to let them spend the evening at their home. Cordia hoped that they still lived in the same vicinity, and that Frieda, who had accompanied them, could remember the way. But she honestly had little intention of stopping until she found the hospital in Springfield where her answers lie.
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