Ridley’s father sat at the family table with the piece of paper unfolded on the table. Ridley and Samantha sat around the table, bewildered.

“The Union?” Ridley asked. His father only nodded. Ridley quickly stood up and backed away. “No! Not I will not go. They can’t make me fight. Ah hell I don’t care about the Rebs that much to want to go fight.” Ridley said in a panic.

“Ridley,” His father said. “Ridley, you have no choice in this manner.” His father said as he picked up the piece of paper. “You are to report to the Union Officer at once.”

Ridley shook his head. “No, I’m not going to do this. They can’t make us.” Ridley shouted as he walked out of the room. His father turned to Samantha with a painful look.

“Go talk to him. He needs it.” He said as he leaned back in his chair. Samantha had been mostly stunned this entire time. The thought of her brother going off to fight in the war had never crossed her mind. There was a heaviness in her chest of anxiety. Ridley was never the fighting type. In past situations he always avoided fights and confrontations. Samantha begrudgingly stood up and followed Ridley. She didn’t want to convince him to go off, but if he didn’t the consequences could be dire.

Ridley was sitting outside on the ground with a bottle of cider in his hand. When the door opened he flinched. Samantha shuffled out gingerly and sheepishly moved next to him. Ridley didn’t look up at her. He was afraid to.

“Not going to do it. First chance I get, I'm running.” He said as he pursed the bottle to his lips.

“Ridley, please don’t. That will make things harder on us here.” Samantha said with heavy eyes. Father would get in trouble if you desert.” Ridley paused for a moment and stared at the bottle in his hand. Thousands of options ran through his head, none of them he liked.

“Not going to convince me, Samclam. They can’t make me.” Ridley said as he placed the bottle down.

“Please Ridley.” Samantha said. She was having a hard time picking the right words. “This is hard on all of us. You, me and father.” She said as she sat down next to him. Ridley sat there in silence.

“Promise one thing.” Samantha said as she reached over and took the bottle out of his hand. Ridley looked back at her with curiosity on his face. “Promise me that you’ll return home someday. That no matter what, you’ll do what you can to survive and make it back home.” She said as she took a drink from the bottle. Ridley turned his head away and sighed.

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“Okay, Samclam. I promise I’ll do what I can.” He said as he reached over and took the bottle back from her.

“And write letters.” Samantha said eagerly.

“One thing at a time, runt.” Ridley said with a faint smile as he took another drink from the bottle. “Besides, Father Murphy doesn’t like us using the church as our private mailbox.” Ridley said with a grin. The two sat there together in silence, uncertain of what was to come. The sound of a train whistle could be heard coming from the distance and the stars gave off an ominous shine.

“Ridley,” Samantha started as she looked up at the stars. Ridley looked at her with curiosity mixed with concern.

“Yeah,” He answered.

“Do you remember that one song that father always sings on mother’s birthday?” She asked as she turned her eyes towards him. Ridley shifted his eyes back and forth and finally rested them back on his sister. “Yeah.” He said as she took another sip from the bottle. “A bit grim isn’t it?” He asked.

“Not necessarily. How does it go again?” She asked. Ridley paused for a brief moment in thought and he began to sing.

“Of all the money I ever had. I spent it in good company.” Ridley sang.

“And all the harm I've ever done. Alas, it was to none but me.” Samantha continued.

Suddenly from behind them came a booming voice. “And all I've done for want of wit. To memory now I can't recall.” Said their father as he walked out of the house with a fresh bottle of ale. He said down next to his children with tears in his eyes and a smile on his face. “So fill to me the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be to you all.” He sang out as he opened the bottle. Ridley took one last long drink from the bottle in his hand before discarding it.

“Of all the comrades that ever I had. They're sorry for my going away.” He said as he took the bottle from his father’s hand. “And all the sweethearts that ever I had, they'd wish me one more day to stay.” Ridley sang with a grin on his face but tears in his eyes. The family embraced together and started to cry. Fear had made a deep home in their hearts that night. And though they tried to sing away their troubles, it remained.

The next day Ridley gave his family one last embrace before leaving. He met with the Union Officer and before he knew it he was on a train leaving Albany, New York. The other men around him didn’t seem nervous or even scared. Some of them were puffing out their chests and boasting about how many Johnny Rebs they were going to kill. All of this made Ridley silent and nervous. The worry on his face was plain to see and it drew the attention of others.

“What about you, man?” One guy asked. Ridley poked his head up and looked over at the man. His father was haggard with a brushy sticky beard. His smile was enough to make a mouse hang itself. The smell coming from him was so strong it would leave vapor trails as he walked by. Ridley straightened his back and gave the man a wicked grin. He leaned back in his seat with calm and ease.

“Ah, I got my mark down on twenty or so.” Ridley said. The other men bursted out laughing.

“That’s a low number, son. I say I’ll get about four times that much before the years over.” The man said as he turned around. Ridley slumped back into his seat. He didn’t say much of anything to anyone else during the train ride. It could have been the train, he thought to himself, or someone on the train was gently tapping on a drum. Ridley figured it was the train and ignored the sound and focused on what he was going to do next. Then a voice called out.

“Ah! Stop it. That’s mine.” Called out the voice. Sounded like the voice of a youngman. The sound of hard meat being punched could be heard. The youngman’s voice and the drumming stopped. Ridley didn’t pay much attention to anything else. He just looked out the window as the train started to leave Albany.

“I’m so fucked.” Ridley said.