“Form up! Tighten the line, there. … Cullen! You crazy sunuvabitch, what the hell you grinning at?”
“Cullen says Dusky Mary nailed his hat to the ceiling last night, Sarge.”
“That so, Cullen? Milk you dry, did she? … Unshoulder arms!”
“Did she ever, Sarge. I’m gonna marry that girl.”
“Take a little mulatto girl home to mama? Ha! Like to see that homecoming.”
“Won’t be no never-mind to my Ma, she’s been blind these past five years.”
“Quiet in the ranks! Don’t want the Rebs thinking we’re laughing at them.”
“Her skin’s so soft, and her eyes so big and brown. And her bosom …”
“Hold on to that thought, Cullen. Now, boys, there they be! Aim for their bellies!”
“Fire!”
“Close up … close up the ranks, boys. … Cullen! Where’s Cullen?”
“Cullen ain’t no more, Sarge.”
“Damn. Here they come boys. Let’s serve ’em right for Cullen.”
“And Mary.”
“Yeah … Mary too. All the Marys. Even their Marys. … Aw, damn!”
© 2013 R.E. Buckley. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.