Chronicles of Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman
-2-
The Southern Soldier

When I came too I felt like somebody had placed a tin pail over my head and then taken a wooden broom stick to it and banged on that motherfucker till the cows had come home. I had one hell f a headache. The first thing I noticed was I was laying on the ground. The second thing I noticed was I was in a tent. The third thing I noticed was the smokey smell of fires.

Gathering up my strength I hoisted myself up. A soft hiss escaped my lips as I reached up and placed the open palm of my head upon my forehead. I had a killer headache and my mouth was dry as a boil of cotton. And my stomach felt as sour as a jug of milk that had been left out in the summer sunshine for one hour too many.

Gathering my senses I pushed toward the exit of the tent and the sight that greeted me was one that took my breath away. I found myself looking at a sprawling campsite of at least twenty seven tents and just as many cooking fires. Gathered around these camp fires were shadowy forms of men, and filtering through the hot, humid night air were the mournful lyrics of ballads from the Civil War.

“Good to see you awake boy.” My dad said as he looked up from one of the fires. He motioned for me to join him. My legs felt like jelly though and it took considerable effort for me to join him around the fire. Once I did though he pushed a tin mug of black liquid into my hand. 

“Well, I figured it's time you and I had a little talk boy,” He said, taking a sip from his own cup.

I nodded and slowly I brought the lip of the mug to my lips, and slowly I took a small sip of the blackish liquid. I recoiled at the bitterness of it. It was coffee, coffee without cream or sugar. 

“Your mother and I are going to get a divorce soon. Things are not working out for us. Seventeen years of marriage. You see son, I don't agree with your mother's beliefs anymore. And I can't see myself remaining married to somebody who does share my views. His voice was void of emotion and he seemed to casually tell me this in the same nonchalant way he might name off items we need from the supermarket.

I nodded my head.

“The times are changing son,” Dad said as he sipped his coffee. “I took you out to this reecanment to get a feel of what your confederate ancestors went through. I wanted you to get a sense of what they stood and often died for. I wanted you to get a sense of their spirit so you could pass it down to your children one day.” He said in a crystal clear voice. The voice seemed to belong to an older preacher than my dad.

Maybe it was my killer headache but I found myself stunned into  silence.

“We are fighting a second Civil War right now.” My dad muttered under his breath. “The Liberals in far away Washington are attacking us again. They are waging a ruthless and unjust war on our Southern Culture. And they want to remove any trace of our proud Confederacy from the history books.”

I nodded my head. I was not sure how I felt about what my dad was saying, Not that I agreed with him. I mean I never really took any pride in coming from the South. I'd grown up with he internet. I'd been molded by the advent of the Internet, Amazon, and Discord. 

“Their trying to shove things like critical race theory. Down our throats, their trying to redefine what marriage is. They are trampling on basic Biblical values that have been corner stones of our nations character for generations. They are telling us how to act, how to think.” Dad was working himself into a real whirlwind here. I could even forecast what was going to come next. Heck I could see it brewing a mile away.

“And your mom, is leaving me to go back to her fucked up family. Did you know her middle sister, divorced her husband, because found him sleeping in bed with another woman? And then after she left him, she went  married another woman?! No wonder the man left her, she was not doing what a wife was supposed to do for her husband. That give him a piece whenever he wants a piece.”

I threw up a little in my mouth. How could one person have so much hate?

“But were pushing back Ash.” He said,”Donald is going to set this country straight. Heck we already overturned Roe Vs, Wade. And now we're going to make it crystal clear to people tat marriage is legally, and biblically defined as a union between a man and a woman.” 

I sipped my coffee, my blood was boiling, I just did not have the energy to speak.

“And don't get me started on this whole transgender thing. The whole idea that a man can become a woman or a woman can become a man I just fuckery.” His voice was low and deadly. “It's bullshit, and the fact that little charlie thinks just because he puts on his sisters skirt and his mommy panties, and prances around like a little fucking faggot he has the right to play on womens sport teams.”

Then he said something that made my blood boil like water on a iron kettle that had been left on a stone with the nob turned all the way to pro-boil.

“During the Sleepy Joe Biden administration. Several large military bases that had been named after our gallen Southern heroes had their names changed. He only changed them to appease the votes in the Blue states that helped him gain off. Hell I don’t think it was his idea to start with, we all know the old man is nothing more than a mouth piece. A puppet for the ‘Squad’ and Crooked Hillary to speak through. But now that we got Donald Trump back into office he has gone about changing those names back. Giving power back to the states! State right son!” He then hollered and punched the air. 

I felt like I threw up a little in my mouth as he said that.

“Anyway, son, I wanted to ask you. Well I wanted to give you a choice. Would you like to stay here with me, and become a true 'Southern Solider' and help me, and the good ol' boys of this town keep fighting the good fight? You know keep this town the kind of town that you'll be proud to raise your children in. Or would like to move with you liberal mother in Benton?”

I swallowed hard and because I could answer my dad said.

“Give it some thought son.” He said as he stood up. “Oh And your on picket duty tonight. Billy Yankee is out there in the woods. Rumor is there planning to attack our camp tonight. So I'm doubling the watch. You go ahead and get your musket and do you ol' man proud.” And with that he walked back into the tent and left me with a lot to think about.

But my mind was already made up. I knew that soon I would be joining my liberal mother in Benton or I'll try to move in with my cousin Isabella. Because I was scared. I was scared that one day my father would stumble upon my internet search history and discover I'd been reading newsletters about transgender people. That I'd often researched the topic from the time he went to bed too early in the morning because I felt like maybe I was one of them. That I was transgender and yet I was too afraid to ask anybody to help me understand.

I was also afraid that he discovered my search history. He would kill me. No, I knew he would. I knew my dad well enough to know that if I asked him for help with this issue he would kill me.

One last thought entered into my head as I reached down and picked up my musket. If somehow I worked up the courage to admit to myself that maybe I was transgender. Who could I turn to? Not my father, like I said I knew he would kill me. Nor could I ask any of my teachers for help, they would beat me till I was nothing more than a bloody mess. Nor could I ask Fr. Morris down at our local church, because he would tell my father who would like I said kill me.

I could maybe tell my mother. But she was going through her own personal hell right now. That only left two people, my two cousins Jasmine and Isabella.. but would they go out on a limb and take me in? Would they shelter somebody who was still in the egg. With all those thoughts swirling around me. I reached down and shoulder my musket and then I stepped out into the darkness.

End of Chapter Two.