Chronicles of Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman 
Northern Flags in Southwinds Fluttering

-3-
All Quiet Along The Pontchartrain Tonight

Our picket line was a mile and half from the main camp. It took me around forty five minutes to reach the line. I was surrounded by total darkness. It seemed not a soul was around for miles. It was just me and the stars that seemed to shimmer brightly in the night heavens. The moon, full and plum, reminded me of an old silver dollar. The wind seemed to be still now.

I wondered if the old saying was true that we are never alone. That wherever we go that God, The Son, and The Holy Spirit walk beside us. If that was so, that was a small comfort. I felt myself starting to quiver as I gripped my musket. Part of me wanted to break camp and run. To throw down my musket and to strip myself of the uniform I was wearing. But knowing my dad. He would form a search party and have them search for me, and given my weakened state no doubt they would find me.

 And once I was found, I'm sure my dad would for the amusement of the  school children, private school children, who always seemed to be spectors at these events. Yes, for their amusement he would have me brought up on the charge of desertion. And possible cowardice in front of the enemy. I would no doubt be found guilty of these charges. 

I would then be blind folded and led into an open field, where an old, pine casket would be laid open. I would then be forced to stand behind the casket. My hands would be bound tightly with good hemp rope and a corporal with a six man execution squad would then march out.

They would then lower their muskets and at the drop of a sword blast me away, of course it would be a mock execution. A twisted, freakish sideshow for the school children, a living example to all the good private school school boys of what happens when one fails to show true grit and courage. Or when one abounds with their post.

“Fuck!” I shouted as I peered toward the heavens.

I knew what I had to do. I had to flee, escape, to run away. But where, mom I knew would be struggling to provide for herself. She'll be starting over from scratch. While I'm sure she'll quickly find a job, she did have a degree in nursing after all. She'll be in the process of rebuilding her life. Could she afford another mouth to feed? Could she afford school fees?

And then there were my cousins. Jasmine and Isabella, I knew them, I loved them, Jasmine was a big time CEO of a manga publishing company and Isabella worked with the same publishing company. I knew Isabella had recently bought a small creole cottage on the outskirts of town and that Jasmine was thinking of moving to Blue Bayou to be closer to her cousin. I guess they could take me in..

“Hey!” A voice called out.

Staying in character I lowered my musket and brought it to my shoulder. I cocked the hammer back and peered into the inky darkness.

“Cut the bullshit out Ash.” Another voice hissed.

“This is no time to play pretend soldier.” Another voice hissed.

“Listen, we've been following you, we know how he treats you. And we even eavesdropped on that little talk he gave you.” Another voice hissed.

I slowly lowered my rifle.

“Listen, Ash, if push comes to shove get the hell out there. The three of us have been watching you right now. And were concerned about you. I'm going to drop a piece of paper and I want you to come and get it. Once you get it you hide it okay? There's going to be a bundle of bills there too. Keep it safe, don't let anybody know you have it.”

I leered into the dark. I then heard something hit the ground.

“Okay, Ash, come get it.”

I slung my musket over my shoulder and walked toward the sound. I paused as I heard what sounded like feet running through the underbrush. I heard twigs snapping, branches breaking, and there upon the ground I found a small collection of bills, a few ones, a few fives, a ten, and two twenties. And a handwritten note.

'This is not much. But it's all we have on us at this time. Don't spend a dime of it, and don't tell your dad about it. Remember the following phone numbers. (501) 7756 – 4567 (Angel I) (501) 7111 – 4896 (Angel J) and if you can't reach anybody at the two numbers dial this number (405) 765 -8970. Remember these numbers and if you ever feel threatened. Remember, don't wait to run. We have connections, we know people in the community, we can help you. We will help you.'

The letter was simply signed 'Your guardianing angels.'

I blinked and blinked again. I wanted to ask who 'Angel I' and who 'Angel J' were. But I decided not too. Instead I folded the money up in the paper the three phone numbers were written on and stuck them into my tunic. It's going to sound strange, but holding that piece of paper made me feel like I was holding on to a little piece of hope.That if I'd lived through this whole thing, I'll come out the person I was meant to be. That their were people, good, kind hearted people out there in this big, old world and they were looking out for me.

A quarter of an hour later though. Just as I was thinking things were looking up. A large, tall man, with shoulders the size of smoked hams, and fingers the sizes of hotdogs walked up to me, his breath reeked of Jack Daniels and he had two golden, doward pointed chevrons sewn onto the sleeves of his tunic.

“Private..” He muttered as he poked my chest with those hotdog size fingers. “I just saw three shadows move across the field, I did not hear you call attention to them. Are you flirting with the yankee.” His eyes were red as coal and a stream of clear snot ran down into his open mouth.

“No sir..” I said bringing my musket to the position of attention.
“Sir.. I'm a non-commissioned officer private. Don't you dare call me 'Sir' I work for a living. Do you understand me? Do you fucking understand me private?” He was words were running together.
“Yes..' I still said lots of words.

“Corporal..” He swayed and looked down into my eyes. “I'm a corporal..” He said pointing toward the two downward pointed chevrons.

He swayed a little and then in a hollow tone of voice he said.

“Anyway resume your post private and don't let me see you slacking again. Or I'll strap you to the wagon wheel and flog you. I'll flog you like a negro.You understand me?. Do you understand me private?” His voice was hollow, and the fumes of the liquer seemed to swirl around him like the tiny little flies always seemed flew around the character from the peanut comic strip.

“Yes corporal!”

He then did something I did not expect. He smacked me upside the head with his open palm. The smack caused me to see stars and the force of the hit knocked me flat on the ground. I rolled a little. The man however just stood there, looking down at me with his arms folded across his chest. His eyes seemed to burn like the embers of hate. Slowly I collected myself and once I was standing upright I felt the musket being thrusted into my hands.

“That for being a smart ass. Next time you get smart with me boy, I'm going to knock some goddamn teeth out of your head. Now resume your post private, and I better not see your ass slacking again.” He muttered as he pushed past me.

The End of Chapter Three

Chronicles Of Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman 
Northern Flags in Southwinds Flutter!

-1-
In Dixie Land I'll Take my Stand!

The rolling field was bathed in strong sunshine, the mercury in the thermometer was reading a hundred and ten and I felt like I was about to meet my maker. Either by a musket ball or heat stroke, across the field I see long lines of men dressed in dark blue uniforms. The rays of sun bounced off their brass belt buckles and caught the light of their steel bayonets. Floating high above their caps of blue were brass eagles and batte banners of blue and red.

I took a deep breath as I felt my chest tighten, my palms started to sweat and without thinking I reached up to wipe the sweat from my eyes. What a day to be wearing woolen, butternut gray pants, old leather shoes, and a woolen shirt that was buttoned up to the coller. I felt my hands starting to tremble as I fumbled with the barrel of the musket I was holding.

“Steady men!” a man in front of me called out. “Steady men, hold your ground, hold your ground.. remember it's the rabbit running through the thicket that gets shot and ends up in the stew pot, not the man with the gun.” He called out as he flashed his bright sword. His eyes seemed to catch mine.

That man was my father. And it was because of him I found myself standing in this formation, wearing a woolen Confederate Uniform. And a rifle musket in my trembling hand. This was his idea of Father/Son bonding time, having him and I take part in a local Civil War reenactment. This was his idea of Cosplay.

“Remember,” My dad called out as he raised his sword. “Heaven has prepared a place for each of you. God himself has prepared a place for you around his table.” He said as he turned around.

I blinked. And closed my eyes. He was really hamming it up for the private school children and their teacher who had decided to turn out to the reenactment as some kind of twisted field trip. I forced myself to breathe, the air was thick with dust and I could smell the grass, and the smell of sewage from the nearby swamp. I then closed my eyes to center myself. I could hear the beating of kettle drums and the sound of fifes.

The line of blue was now advancing toward us. They were no more than a hundred or so yards from us, I felt myself go weak in the knees as I watched my father, snear, the bastard was enjoying this. For him this reenactment was more than just a twisted melodrama; this was him reliving the glorious past of our people. This was him, reminding himself that he came from warrior stock.

Then a deafing roar, plumes of white smoke filled the air. The man beside me fell down, and the man beside me rolled over and screamed. My eyes went wide in horror. I fumbled with my weapon and felt something warm run down the front of my trousers.

“Make ready!” I heard my dad shouting as paced up and down the line, he appeared and reappeared like a phantom through the thick clouds of smoke that were hanging low to the ground. “Make ready!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice echoed in my ear.

Shivering I forced myself to pick up the musket I'd been handed that morning and quivering from the weight of the thing I forced myself to bring it up to my shoulder, with a sweaty palm I wrapped my finger around the metal trigger.
“Fire!” He shouted.

And then all of a sudden all around me sparks of red and orange flared up, the recoil of the musket felt like it shattered my shoulder. The smoke started to burn my eyes. And I found myself starting to cough. Another loud boom, more people fell around me, or rolled away. The noise was causing me to fumble around.

“Reload!” My dad called out as he paced up and down the line. No doubt he was reliving some major historical drama right now. I found it odd that despite his strong dislike for theater and shakespeare that he himself was now an actor. And that he seemed to relish the role.

I fumbled again, I fumbled to get the ramrod from the musket, I fumbled to pull the hammer back, I fumbled and the sweat rolling down my eyes did not help, the sweat blinded me.

“Hurry boys!” I heard my dad call out.

At last I managed to get the hammer cocked back, my lungs felt like they were on fire. My ivy colored skin had turned a deep, fire ember red color and yet I felt cold to the touch and oddly enough I found myself shivering.

“Fire!” Another round of smoke, another sharp recoil of the butt of the musket pushing into my shoulder and another moment of feeling the wind leave my lungs. A few seconds later I felt myself falling toward the ground. I felt the hard sod of the earth and I smelled the green grass of the meadow.

My world became nothing more than a gyroscope of color. Blue melted into white, then the white became red and the red became orange and the orange became yellow and the yellow somehow swirled with blue and swirled together and from that horrible colore green appeared. Over and over again the colors swirled around me.

I felt myself becoming far away, very far away, then I heard it, the brass call of the bugle. Somewhere in the distanced tree line. He was sounding 'Retreat' and that is what was going on right now. Through the gray haze that seemed to surround me, I could see phantom forms of gray pulling back, a discord mop. They rushed around me, one eve stepped on my hand, I felt the hard leather of the boots crush my tender fingers. I low hiss escaped my lips, a shearing bolts of pain show all the way through me.

“Fuck..” I groaned as I rolled over and peered at the noon day sun. And well that the last postive thing I remember seeing before my world turned to nothing but long gray shadows.

“Get to your feet” I heard a voice bellow.

Standing over me was a large beast of a man. He wore a gray tunic and on the sleeve of his tunic he had three golden downward pointed chevrons. He had a dark red sash wrapped around his waist and holding in one hand a saber and other hand the colors.

“..” I stumbled to stand. And the next thing I knew my musket was being pushed back into my hand.

“HOLD THE LINE.” I heard my father shout as he came dashing out in front of us. “FOR ALL THAT YOU LOVE AND HOLD DEAR ON GOD GREEN EARTH.. HOLD THE LINE.” He shouted as he reached up and removed his hat from the top of his head.

I twisted my head to the left and then to the right and all around me I noticed men were doing just that. I personally wanted to run to flee, to get the fuck out of here and as soon as I could I would tear this tunic off my back and toss it into a creek or something.

“Rally around the colors.” My father shouted.

“Rally around the colors!” Men started to shout and renewed by this they started to reform ranks. Had the whole world gone mad! This was insane! I twisted my head in front of me, and there across the field I saw them a tide of blue. Their rifles were lowered and I could see the glean of their bayonnets. They were all screaming at the top of their lungs. And fluttering over their blue capped heads was the flag of the Union, the stars and strips and attached to the flag pole was a golden colored eagle with its wings spread apart.

“Fire by platoon!” My father shouted.

“Fire by platoon!” A half of dozen non-commissioned officers yelled.

“Column will make ready!” My father shouted.

“Column make ready!” A half dozen non-commissioned officers yelled.

I shivered as I loaded my musket one more, thumbling for the rod, thumbing to drive home the charge, shivinger I brought the musket to my bruised shoulder and then I squeezed the trigger the blacklash nearly caused me to kneel over.

“Fire at will!” My father ordered. “KILL THEM YANKEE BASTARDS BOYS!”

For several tense minutes I went through the notions of loading my musket, firing my musket and reloading my musket. Each time I squeezed the trigger I felt my shoulder taking the blunt of the blacklash. The field was now covered in smoke, and the smoke made me cough and hack. The heat of the day made it worest and before I could catch myself I found myself vomiting.

And then they appeared again, the sea of blue. And soon we were tangled together. A bedlam of noises that caused my ears to feel like they were bleeding. How long we tangled I do not remember. I'm sure it was just a matter of seconds maybe even a handful of minutes but it seemed like hours. And then it was over.. they started to withdraw.

Stunned I stood there as I watched the sea of blue retreat across the field. A shout was raised from bone dry throats of my fellows. I myself was a little too dazed to do much of anything but just stand there. Then I heard them, the pounding of horse hooves upon the ground, the mighty roar of men charging into battle. As as the wind blew the smoke away from the field I saw a sight that made me feel like death himself was personally coming to clain me.

Four dozen mounted horsemen were charging at us.

“Fall back! Head toward the tree line!” I heard my father yell as he turned his horse around and started to rush toward the grove of trees.

I followed, as the did the rest of my fellows. I don't know how the orcs managed to stand in the Battle of Pelenor fields. But those fellows were a lot braver than me, they stood and faced down six thousand mounted Rohirrim. Six thousand horses came charging at them. Here I was running like a rabbit from four dozen. Somehow I managed to reach the cover of the trees and then, well I guess the heat got the best of me, because as soon as I stopped I felt myself starting to fall over. And then I once more entered the land of Spirits.

End of Chapter One.

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.

Chronicles of Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman
Northern Flags in Southwinds Flutter

-4-
What is the price to pay? Hell the prince to pay!

According to the history books, the rag-tag, half starved, shoeless Confederate militia force that had been mustered or summoned to defend the town of Blue Bayou, seeing that they were indeed outnumbered, and out gunned. Surrounded on and at sea, as the Union navy had sailed a quadron of ironclad battleships into Lake Pontchartrain and had firmly fixed their brass twelve pound naval cannons on the tiny force, they wanted to strike the white flag and march out and surround their arms.

But their commander had other plans. Instead of doing the most logical thing, that is sparing the lives of his men and sparing the the town he in all his military wisdom decided that his rag-tag band would make one final charge on the Federal Forces and with their undefeatable southern pride and spirits they would drive the Federal army away from their shores and back to far away Washington. And as expected the Federal forces formed into ranks, and blasted away at them for twenty solid minutes. By the timea stiff breeze had blown away the smoke from the battlefield it was clear the charge had been a waste of men. For six hundred and seventy Confederate soldiers lay dead or dying on the field. The remaining one hundred and twenty or so were so scared and shocked out of their minds that they quickly tossed their muskets down upon the ground and pushed their hands high into the air.

Later that evening the UnionNavy floating by Blue Bayou would shell the town till it was nothing more than a skeleton of burned out houses and shops. It in effect became a burned out wasteland. All because of some misguided action of the town's guard. Who according to legend had opened fire upon the squadron of floating warships. The cannon in question had been an old relic that had been left over from the war of eighteen twelve.

And that is why, early on the morning of the second day, I found myself standing in the front ranks, shoeless, capless, dying of thirst, wanting food and feeling a fever coming over me. I think I'd caught something from the raw salted pork I'd been given as rations. Because every five minutes I found myself having to squat down in some bushes and relieve myself. It was not solid, but a torrent stream of brownish water with what looked like hunks of half melted chocolate bars mixed in. This was often followed by a fever and the urge to vomit.

We were standing on the south north side of a field. The field was covered in sawgrass that reached up to a man's waist, the stalks of grass swaying in the field caught by some remote breeze. Cattails as tall as a man could be seen growing in patches. Dragon flies with their clear, almost plastic like wings darted from one end to the other. I knew it would hell crossing that field.

And on the other side waiting for us in the morning more dew was a long phalanx of Federal soldiers, all dressed in dark blue tunics and light blue trousers. The rays of the early morning sun caught their highly polished brass buttons and they all looked well fed, healthy and eager for the coming struggle.

Then my dad rode out in front, he trotted up and down the line until he stopped in the center of our formation. He then wheeled his mount around and then facing us he called out in a loud clear voice.

“Gentleman of the South.” He began. “It has been a pleasure to lead you fine men into battle. Through our valor, and strength of arms we have delayed the Federal Army. Though, I am ashamed to say it, we can not carry the day by valor alone. We are indeed outnumbered, the rumors of the navy sailing into the gulf behind us is true. This shall be our last battle together. I'm sorry I could only feed you men, corn meal, raw salted pork and a bit of tack.”

At that moment I found myself wishing to empty my bowels again. But since I was standing in formation, I was forced to do so standing. I whimpered as I felt the seat of my trousers expand and felt the warm liquid run down my pants leg.

“This is to our last stand.” Dad said building a fine head of steam as he carried on with little speech. “This morning we stand among the living, this evening we shall dine in Hades. I want to remind you of the famous Battle of Thermopylae. Were three hundred spartan warriors under the command of their good king, Leonidas, defeated some twenty thousand of the best warriors of the persian king Xerxes. And though they were killed to a man, they by their heroic sacrifice won fame for their little citystate and found themselves forever enshrined in the annals of history. The bard still sings of their heroic deeds to this very day!”

I took a deep breath and shivered again as I peered across the field.

“Now, gentleman.. do your duty to your god, to your native state and to beloved Dixie.” He said as he reached down to his side and quickly he pulled out his sword. He thrusted the sword into the air and then at the top of his lungs he shoulder.

“Battalion! Attention.” He bellowed.

We all snapped to attention.

“Battalion! Fix Bayonets!” He bellowed again.

I fumbled with my bayonet for several long seconds before I finally managed to get it locked into place. Again my bowls decided to purge themselves and again I felt myself go weak in the knees as the seat of my trousers expanded and another stream ran down my legs. The urge to vomit was greater this time around. And then before I could catch myself I found myself throwing my head down and from my throat came a swelling wave of yellowish liquid. It spilled down upon the ground, my head started to spin as I looked down and noticed pink pieces of pork floating around in a greasy sea.

“Battalion! Make ready!” Dad bellowed again.

Stumbling, I raised my musket and tried my best to focus on what was in front of me.

“Battalion..” Dad paused. “Will advance to the rolling of the dum. Give them hell boys! And remember the Federal boys hate the cold steel, so you must give them the cold steel. Drive them back to washington.” And with that he wheeled his mount around and started to trote toward the Federal forces.

And then we started to advance across the first and once more history repeated itself. Like the Confederate forces on the third day of the Battle of Gettysburg we were mowed down. The Federal army, dug in snuggly behind a crumbling stone wall, poured volley after volley fire on us. Some fellows fell down, the colors dipped, and somebody rushed to pick them up. The field became clouded with white smoke. I dipped down because I felt a sharp pain in my left foot and my leg seemed to give out. I looked down to see what was the matter and then I noticed to my horror that coiled my leg was a gray diamondback rattlesnake. A moment later I screamed out again this time in both pain and horror and the snake slunk away.

“My God!” Help me,” I bellowed as I forced myself to stand up. I was then shoved back down to the ground.

“Carry through with the attack soldier!” A big buff man yelled as he reached down and picked my musket up off the ground. He pushed the musket into my trembling hand. At this point I could see two red bite marks forming on my ankle, my head felt it was on fire and my whole body felt lik it was made of lead. And well I carried on, because I knew my best chance of getting out alive was surrendering. I limbed toward the Federal lines, at this point the tide of gray had fissled out and people were rushing away, retreating. But once I was within sight of the Federal line I called out.

“I surrender! I surrender!” I called out as I dropped my musket down upon the ground. I then raised my hands high into the air and a pleading tone of voice I called out. “For the Love of God gentleman I surrender! I need help, I've been bitten!”

A sudden silence fell all alone the line. All faces turned toward me. And then from the ranks of blue, a blue clad Federal boy came out. He eased toward me, the first he did though was to sling his musket over his shoulder and then he took mine. And then he ushered me behind their lines. Once I was safely behind their lines, he walked me to a nearby log and eased me down. As far as I was concerned the war was over for me.

“Are you okay Jonny?”A man in a blue uniform asked as he walked out from a nearby tent. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and he looked like a doctor. His eyes zoomed in to mine.

“My name is not 'Jonny' , it is Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman.” My breath was hard now, and I could feel myself starting to break out in an ice, cold sweat. I turned my head over to the side and I vomited once more, another stream of yellow fluid with chunks of pink, salted pork floating around. I then wrapped my arms around me and I could feel myself starting to shiver.

“I don't to die here.. I'm too young to die.

The man looked at me for a solid thirty seconds. “Okay Ashley.. My name is Ben Husk, and I'm a doctor.” He said as he walked over and knelt down on the ground beside. “And you're not going to die today, not if I can help. He then looked down at my foot that was swelling to the size of a watermelon.”

“What happened?” He asked as he looked at my foot.

“Got bit by a diamondback..” I muttered.

His face went gray.

“And why are you here and not in an ambulance young lady?

“My daddy don't want to break the scene.” I muttered.

At this the man reached up, took his hat from his head and slapped his knee with it. He then looked into the heavens and took a deep breath and muttered something under his breath.

“Somebody call me an ambulance! Somebody get hold of the hospital! Stop the shooting, we need to get this young lady to the hospital!”

“Please don't call my daddy.” I want to say 'Dad' but I thought a young lady would mutter 'daddy'. “He would just tell me to walk it off.” As weak as I felt I reached up and wrapped my fingers around Ben Husk's shoulder. “Don't call my daddy, there are some personal numbers in my tunic. Call one of them. And if something happens to me, tell my mommy I loved her.” I was pleading with him, almost begging him at this point tears started to roll down my sunburned cheeks and clear away some of the dust. “Please tell my mommy I loved her.” my world started to go blurry.

At this point I found myself surrounded by a few women, all wore period dresses, all seemed fawning over me. One even lifted my head and placed a old pillow under me.

“Let's get her out of that tunic.” A woman to my right said to me, “Poor dear is burning up, get out of those woolen trousers too, it's too hot for all of this. Oh dear lord.. the child has soiled herself.”

“What monster would put a child through this?” Another woman said as she covered her mouth. “I have never seen such a sight! She should be at home in bed, not here, not in uniform.”

“The smell.. She needs a bath.. Poor dear she has soiled herself from the bottom down, these clothes are ruined and need to be washed or burned.. and her face, it is so hollow. Her skin is so dry. Her cheeks are so red. She looks like she is going to die.” Another woman muttered. And soon I found myself dressed in nothing but an undershirt. My uniform was stripped from me along with my underwear.

“Do any of you ladies have anything to spare? To save her modesty of course.” Ben Husk said as he looked over. He was talking to a young man who appeared around my age.

“I have some bits and pieces.” Another woman said. “Move her to one of the tents and we'll do our best to get her cleaned up.”

“Dear..” The same woman before said. “When was the last time you had anything to drink?”

“Since yesterday, we don't have water fit to drink in camp.” I muttered.

“Don't give her anything to drink.. I'm sorry, but until we get you seen about we need to avoid giving you water. I got hold of an ambulance. It should be here in a few minutes, we're going to need to carry you to the pick-up point. It's two miles to our rear..”

At that point I was sure I was going to die. And amidst the sea of faces that surrounded me I saw a man who was dressed up as a priest. I reached out my hand and called out to him.

“FATHER! FORGIVE ME FOR I HAVE SINNED!”

The priest blinked and walked toward me, he kneeled down and took my hand into his hand. I then started to babble. I felt surely I was going to die and that if I was going to die I should at least be given the last rites of the church.

The priest listened and then placed his hands upon my forehead and muttered a prayer and then he made the sign of the cross above my face. As I watched him make the sign of the cross I felt myself give away again. The woman shivered as they held their noses. My day had gone from bad to worst.

Chronicles of Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman
Northern Flags in Southwinds Flutter
-5-
Could today be my last day on Earth? 
My body felt like it was on fire. As I lay flat on my back, I saw neon colored dinosaurs floating around my head. The air inside the tent was hot and humid. I was glad to be rid of my heavy, woolen, uniform with its big brass buttons. And that heavy musket.

“I think she is ready.” One of the women said as she pulled a heavy, gray woolen blanket over me. Despite the heat and the humidity I welcomed the warmth of the blanket. The women of the camp had swarmed over me like honey bees to an open pot of honey. They had washed me the best they could, and gotten me into a formless, white gown.

I was too weak to mutter a thank you. But I hoped they could tell by the way I looked into their faces that I was thankful for them. I was then moved onto a old civil war era stretcher. Then from the flaps of the tent two tall Federal Soldiers entered.

“She is ready to move, gentleman.” Another woman said.

They nodded and bent down and picked up the stretcher and then slowly they started to move me out of the tent. As they moved me from the tent into the main camp I noticed dozens of blue clad Federals had formed something of an honor guard. It seemed the whole of their army had turned. I wanted to know what they were thinking, I really did.. but I could not bring myself to talk.

Soon enough though we had passed the last tent and we were onto the main trail. The trail was really a hard packed dirt road that looked like the same one I'd traveled on a day before. The two men not taking their time, they were moving as fast as possible. I guess at this point I weighted around a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, Before I weighed a hundred and fifteen pounds soaking wet, but I guess I might have sweated or popped out five pounds..

Through the haze of cotton candy colored horses that seemed to fly above my head. Well the horses only lasted a few moments before pastel colored eldritch horror creatures swooped down and dined on them. I shivered as the creatures void of shape or form tore the pastel colored flesh and broke bone, their void like mouths lined with candy corn teeth dripped blood that looked like strawberry jam and smelled like apple juice.

But through this haze my eyes remained transfixed on the outline of the boy looming over me. His fine, sandy brown hair made me smile, his oval boyish face made my blood run cold and I found myself wanting to kiss him. Well I really wanted to pounce on top of him and fuck him till he was screaming my name.To fuck him and drain him like a succubus.

“Hey handsome.” I said at last.

“Hey..” He said his face seemed to flush red and his ears seemed to glow red.

Oh God his ears, those cute little ears, how they glowed, they glowed redder than coal burning in the depths of hell. Looking at them glowing  made me want to touch them, to nibble on them, to bite them, to rub them between my fingers.

“Gotta name?” I asked.

“Keith..” He paused. “Keith Doughless Adams,”

“Oh! Adams!” Now if you don't know, the Adams family were ranked among the finest families in Blue Bayou. They were counted among the premier bourgeoisie. The top one percent. The family owned and operated the second largest retail business in Blue Bayou “Adams & Lewis WholeSale Groceries” And had recently bought the old Sunflower. In fact I heard they brought all the Sunflower's out in the neighboring states, including the ones in Mississippi, Alamabama, Arkansas, Tennessee, and of course Louisiana.

According to the rumor mill that came to a total of two hundred and sixty seven stores.

“And your name?” Keith said as he peered down at me.

“Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman.” I said blushing a little.

“Such a fine name for such a fine Southern belle as yourself.” He said smiling. I noticed his mouth was filled with dozens of pearly white teeth. The kind of teeth you expect a model to have.

We must have been nearing the staging area because already I could see the glow of the neon orange lights of the ambulance. Two paramedics, one male and one female were waiting for us. I sighed and then I looked up at Keith once more.

“I guess this is where we say good-bye?” I said, taking a deep breath as I peered up at him.

“I guess so..” He looked down at the ground. “Hey cheer-up I'll come visit you in the hospital 'Kay? And when you get out, I'll take you to the Richard's Pizza Parlor and Arcade! My treat.”

I giggled a little.

“You sure? Cause after this I think I can wolf down a whole stuffed crust pizza.” I said smiling at the thought of Keith and I walking through the dimly lit arcaded, holding hands, trying to win tickets. Getting drunk on coke-cola and finally making out like two love-stricken teenagers by the robotic owl that sings dreadful songs of the south and the racist pigeon.

“Sure as honey.” He said.

“And for our next date, I can take you to 'Four Flags over Cajun Land' . We can ride all the rides. For our first date I'll wear my shortest dress and my highest heels. And for our second date a really fluffy sundress is going to flare up.” I said giggling

I'm not sure the two paramedics were thinking about this exchange. I think the guy was lost and the woman was slightly annoyed and maybe even a little amused.

“Come on, kids break it up.” The woman said as she moved toward me. “Gotta get this little lady to a hospital before she loses her foot.” There was a lightness in her tone of voice like maybe gallow humor was part of the job, maybe that what kept them sane. Cause I know they had to deal with a lot of bullshit and horseshit.

It was then I decided to act.

I reached up, took hold of the front of Keith's shirt and I pulled him down. I then kissed him, I kissed him full on the mouth. I forced my tongue into his mouth and I relished tasting the inside of him. At first Keith's eyes went as wide as saucer plates and then he closed them and then he started to push his tongue into my mouth. It was delightful, it was magical, it was beautiful.. If I'd had the time, if I had the strength, if my body did not feel like it was running on fumes.

I would have rolled off that stretched and torn off the nightgown I was wearing and forcefully removed Keith trousers and pulled down his boxers and like a demoness I would have bounced up and down on him until he came inside of me and filled me like a double stuffed oreo cookie. If I was going to die today I was not going to enter into God's Kingdom as a virgin. And if I was Hell bound for coming out as transgender. I was not going to enter Hell without a few personal stories to tell.

We kissed for forty five seconds before my body gave way.

“Something to remember me by.” I said smiling as I was transferred from the stretch to the more modern stretcher. The woman was giving a look. She was the one loading me up. She took her time, made sure I was secured, strapped down, She put some kind of foam pillow around my neck to support me. It felt funny.

“Hey, we're taking your girlfriend to 'Blue Bayou General Hospital' it's the closest one.. and well if you want to you can follow us. But she is going to be directly  admitted. Were going to roll her right back in the E.R from the looks of her foot she was going to an intense course of antivenom and maybe a few days in the hospital. Rattlesnake bites are rarely fatal, and rarely require amputation. The venom is not really our biggest concern right now. It is the infection that comes with the bite.” I heard the man tell Keith. Well that was good news. At least I was in no real danger of losing my foot.

“But she is going to stay in the hospital for a few days until the swelling goes down. At least five days, full antibiotic treatment. Full antivenom treatment. Were also  looking at a possible case of heat stroke, I noticed blunt force trauma to the back of her head where it seemed somebody slapped her.” And with that he jumped into the drivers and cranked that baby up.

The woman was in the back looking at me.

“Hey..” I said, turning the woman.

She just looked at me.

“Can you play some music for me?”

“Sure what do you want?”

“If you can could you play 'My Will' by Dream.”

“You gotta babe.” She said as she pulled out her phone and with the soothing melody playing I was rushed off to the Hospital.

Chronicles of Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman
Northern Flags in Southwinds Flutter
-6-
Welcome to the ER

I have never ridden in the back of an ambulance before. But I guess that was something I could finally cross off my bucket list. I mean I'd already checked off 'Coming out of the Egg' today by spouting to a bunch of random people I was transgender. And the worst that happened was that they gave me a total blank stare. Like I'd spouted a second hand and I started saying the Lord's Prayer backwards in Latin. 

On the same note I figured I could check off 'Getting bitten by a rattlesnake' from my bucket list too. Though it was never on the list to begin with it. Aso I figured I could block out 'Kiss a Boy' because I kind of took some poor fellow to the moon and back. I wondered if by me reaching up, taking hold of his collar and forcing my tongue down his throat that I'd somehow given him an erection. I mean the idea that I could give boys erections was kind of cool. It was like my very own superpower.

The woman sitting beside me noticed me smiling. 

“So,: She said looking up from her paperwork. I guess that was another part of the job. “You said you were transgender. And I'm going to assume your male to female. And that you want your pronouns to be 'She' and 'Her' instead of 'He' and 'Him'. Am I correct?”

“Yes ma'am?” I said, nodding my head.

“Okay And your name is..” The woman reached into the breast pocket of her shirt and pulled out a fountain pen. “Just for our official records.”

“Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman.” I said proudly. And as an afterthought I added. “I want to have that name put on my headstone or else I'm going to come back as a powerful spirit and summon a hurricane to hammer this town and level it to the ground.”

The woman arched her eyebrow and wrote something down upon her bundle of papers. And then calmly she set the pen down and fixed me with a level gaze. 

“I'll make a note of that. But I don't think you're going to die. If you were going to die, you'd have never made it off that field. And instead of going to Blue Bayou General Hospital, we'll taking you to the morgue.” She said without a hint of sarcasm.

“My dad would have buried me in Potters Field anyway.” I said smiling. 

“Okay.. so I gotta ask because I'm going to need this for my report. What made you decide that you were transgender? I mean do you have any legal paperwork? Any notes from any doctors? Are you even seeing a doctor?” The woman said as she leaned back.

“Well, when I was little I was given a copy of 'Pokemon Moon'. And before you really start the game, your given a chance to name your character and select their gender. And on a whim I decided to name my character Ashley, and since Ashley is a girls name I decided to play as a girl.” I said taking a deep breath/

The woman wrote something down on her notepad. 

“That was about the time I started to really get into anime and manga. And that led me to really get into fanfiction. Like I would spend hours and hours reading fanfiction.  And somehow I'd always end up reading stories about male pokemon trainers finding themselves crossdressing.” 
The woman nodded her head and wrote something down on her notepad.

“It's not like I was really into 'boy' anime anyway. Like all my friends would talk about the latest episodes  'One Piece' and 'Dragon Ball Z', you know animes that are all about action, you know those kind of animes were the main cast of characters are always some really bulked up, macho men who are always some really major badass. There always shouting, drinking way too much, and getting into some really brutal fights. Oh and the story lines can last forever.”

The woman wrote this down on her notepad.

“Well I was really into animes that focused on stuff like 'friendship' okay think of the classic 'Sailor Moon' I binged watched the reboot when it was on Netflix. That is a prime example, sure there are some fight scenes, but the Sailor Scouts have to set aside their differences and learn to work together. Plus the characters have more of a personality.” 

The woman nodded her head and wrote that down too I guessed.

“Okay.. so when did the whole 'transgender' thing come up. Cause so far, all I got is that you once decided to play as a girl in a Pokemon game. And you liked anime that was more aimed toward females than anime that was more aimed toward males.” The woman said.

“I guess.. when I was around twelve years old.. I bought a used copy of 'Animal Crossing' with some of my allowance. And well I decided to play as a girl, a girl once more called 'Ashley' and through this 'Ashley' I started to really explore myself. Like this 'Ashley' like the 'Ashley' before became short of an in-game avatar for me to express my inner feeling.”

The woman raised an eyebrow.

“You know, you have a lot of mental clarity for somebody who's been through so much hell.” 

She then jotted down the notes.

“The calm before the storm..” I said smiling.”That or my mind refusing to come to terms that soon I'm going to scream my head off, while thrashing around like a freshly hooked catfish as the effects of the venom travel through my body and reach my heart. And after that I'll be floating high above the heavens, dressed in a pink tunic, with a flickering pink halo above my head.”

The woman nodded her head and jotted down on her notebook.

I could tell the woman wanted to say something else. But at that moment the ambulance came to a stop. I heard the driver door open and a few seconds later I heard the harsh crunch of combat boots on the pavement. The double door was then thrown open and the bright afternoon sunlight filtered into the dark confines like dozens of broken rays.

“Okay princess.” The driver said, smiling as he rolled me out. “We're here.”

I blushed at being called princess 

“Do you call the girls that ride in the back of your ambulance 'Princess' Mr. Ambulance driver?” I said in my best fake southern belle accent. Now my normal accent is blander than well vanilla ice cream. 

“Only the cute ones.” The driver said. He then unfolded the stretcher and then he pushed me across the parking lot and up the concrete ramp. And before I knew it  I was being pushed through the double doors of the local E.R. Once I was through those double doors I was pushed into the waiting room and back toward the back. The nurses wasted no time in checking me over. And I was soon given my first of many dosages of antivenom.

“I'm going to need an IV drip!” Called out one of the nurses. Mind you I was still strapped to the board and I still had the foam neck brace around my neck. So it was damn near impossible for me to see what was going on around me. 

“She has a fever!” Cried another nurse.

“Keep pumping the antivenom into her!” Cried another voice.

“Swelling seems to be coming down..” Another voice called out.

I screamed.

“She really dehydrated too!” Another nurse called out. 

“She has really bad diarrhea too!” Another called out.

“Get her up to the ICU Ward!” Another voice called out.

“Hold off on that order! Let's get her to a room first. Let the antivenom work on her for about a quarter of an hour then start pouring the sports drink to her.”

“I don't see any bite marks..” Another voice called out. “Looks like it was just a glancing blow. I don't think the snake got a good hit on her foot. She does need to be put on a twenty four hour watch.”

I screamed again as I felt myself being rolled over. I felt a sudden prick in my thigh followed by a sense that my ass was on fire. I wanted to curse the lot of them out.

“First injection of antibiotics completed. Going to follow up with something for the swelling.”

“I'm not a pin cushion!” I yelled finally.

Too late another injection. Followed by an IV getting stuck in my arms, followed by me shitting myself again.. totally ruined the gown I was wearing. Totally solid the board I was laying on. Made me feel like a little child who had lost control of themselves and that nearly forced me to the edge of tears.

I don't know what happened after that. Because the only thing I felt was another injection going into my bottom and the world started to swirl around me.

The fucking pink ponie returned again, only this time they were wearing chainmail and weilding claymores. 

And oh don't forget about the dragons, yes you heard me right dragons, neon glowing dragons that breathed pastel colored fire and sha out golden eggs. The ponies were going to war with these dragons and were using their massive claymore swords to slice them in half. Fountains of cotton-candy colored blood spurted out of wounds and bathed the whole area in shimming light.

And then unicorns, dark violet colored unicorns with metal tipped wings swooped in and slaughtered the lot. It was really, really horrible, but also funny. And then thankfully I passed out right as I felt one of the nurses japping me with another needle. 

I mean I was happy to pass out because at that very moment 'Dancing Jack' the redneck cousin of 'Pennywise the Dancing Clown' had entered into my exam room and was holding a fishing rod with a neon glowing gator at the end and was peering into my eyes. I mean he was so close I could count the number of pimples on his face and smell the moonshine on his breath. 

I mean shit was getting real, like really real. Like at this point I think it God had decided to go ahead an call me home, I would have welcome it, of course I would have cursed the old man out for putting me through so much hell in the last hour or so I was down here on earth.. but instead I got to go into a peaceful sleep..

Chronicles Of Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman

-7-
When one door closes, another opens.

Slowly I opened my eyes. My body did not feel as hot, and I was no longer seeing pastel unicorns floating around my head, also those pastel colored unicorns were no longer being preyed upon by the neon glowing dinosaurs. The room though was full of shadows, lots of shadows.

“So.” I said I looked down. I noticed somebody had covered me up with a brownish looking blanket. I quickly reached down and pulled the blanket to the side. My foot, the one the snake bit, was still there, the swelling was going down and it looked almost normal. It seemed they managed to save the thing.

“So.” I said as I switched my eyes from the foot to a small, paper-like band that had been placed on my wrist. The name printed on the band was 'Fisherman, Ash.” under it was printed my age “16” and printed under that was my date of birth. “December 18th 2009” and the last bit of information was my gender, a big bold “M” was printed under my date of birth.

I felt a crushing weight fall down upon my shoulders. I wanted to reach down and snatch the band off with my teeth. Once the band was between my teeth I wanted to spit it in the face of the next doctor or nurse that walked into my room and loudly proclaim my name was 'Ashely Fisherman' and that I was not a 'Male' but a 'Female' but I quicked decided that that would rude and a southern belle was never rude.

“I guess that makes sense though.” I said, sighing as I leaned back. I mean all my medical records had the name 'Fisherman, Ash' printed on them. All of my important documents had the same name printed on them. It would take time I guessed for the system to reset itself.

But I guessed I was in the right place for all that to happen. I mean I did tell the woman paramedic that I was transgender and I guess she put that down in her report and I'm sure somebody saw that report. I'm sure somebody from the state would come and visit me soon enough.

All I needed to do was to kick up my feet, and stir a little dust and form a little torrando. That would get the ball rolling. And then like a snowball being rolled down a hill it would pick up more and more snow and go faster and faster.

“But am I strong enough to wither the storm..” I muttered under my breath as I turned to look out the window. Judging from the skyline I guess I was on the fourth floor of the local hospital. The moon still appear to full but it was starting to wax a little.

And from my hospital window I could see the skyline of all of downtown, I could see the  regal five floor 'Princess Anna Hotel' a historic landmark. I could see the bell towers of 'Our Lady of Sorrow' often considered to be the largest church in town as well as the oldest. In front of it I could see the bell tower that belonged to the local Episcopal Church and beside that the one that belonged to local United Methodist Church.

All of these seemed to tower above a sea of glowing yellow street lights. And in a faint distance I could see the glimmer of the outskirts of New Orleans.

“Who am I'm kidding, of course I'm strong enough”

I'm not sure what came over me at that very moment. But it was a kind of quiet courage. I thought of Rain, my favorite webcomic character and how slowly came out of her shell with the help of her friends. I thought of how I held my breath the moment I finally reached the panel where she took her first HR pill.

I thought of how eagerly I donated to fund the 'Rain the Animated Series' by sneaking off to the local dollar general and buying a prepaid visa card. That took courage, because if my dad had found out that I'd been supporting anything transgender he would have beaten my ass within an inch of the gates of Hades. I also reflected on all the transgender artists and writers who I followed.

All the blogs I followed, all the discords I lurked in. Those discords were more than a mere cyber hangout for me, they were a safe haven, a port in the storm of life. Places were I could come and be refreshed and renewed.

“I'm going to do it!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. “I'm going to transition and live the life I want to live! And nobody is going to stop me.

The End.