The Knight in Leather Armor

ch.18 Fighting for honor

Papers shuffled in restless intervals. Ink scribbled across tattered journals. Clock hands ticked steadily, competing against Mr. Cowell’s deep monotone- for our attention.

I watched intently as the rest of the class was quietly dying of boredom. Mr. Cowell wrote “The American Civil War: 1861-1865” on the black board.

Liam glanced at me briefly. He gave me a shy and very painful half-smile that cut me up with guilt.

I looked away and he seemed even more disappointed, leaning his head in his palm, taking notes blindly.

“The Civil War was the single bloodiest battle in American history. The country was divided: North versus South, industry versus farming, free versus enslaved.  There were labels and with labels comes competition: who’s right and who’s wrong” Mr. Cowell explained as he stood proudly at the front of the class. In the hundred times that the other kids had dozed off, Cowell hadn’t even blinked. 

Most of the kids were scared of him, the others were straight up stoners with no recollections of who they slept with last night, let alone what happened over 150 years ago.

“Can anyone tell me when Lincoln passed the Emancipation Proclamation?” Cowell asked in a depressed monotone. He knew he might as well have been talking to the air. Everyone seemed to nod off into Neverland as the room slipped into a deep silence.

I slowly raised my hand. 

Cowell cocked an eyebrow ever so slightly. He was hopeful, but not desperate. He nodded at me.

“January 1st, 1863” I answered.

Liam turned to look at me. He smiled shyly. It was like we were back to stage one all over again.

“Thank you, Miss Lorenzo. I’m glad at least one of you will pass my class” Cowell spoke curtly. He gave me the slightest appreciative smile. But, I couldn’t be sure; the man showed little positive emotion, which might be why the class was so intimidated by him. 

A few kids glared at me as if I had insulted them by paying attention.

Cowell went on to describe the wealthier, stead-fast, industrialist Union men of the North and the humble, but ever-charming and gallant Confederate men. It almost seemed like a nightmarish-fairytale how the country had been so greatly divided and hostile to one another. It was strange, thinking that 150 years ago, there was just Unionist and who was a Confederate. It was so strange because I knew how very true it was, how very little has changed for my small town where there is still “us” and “them.”

 It shouldn’t be like this- all divided and unequal and judgmental of one another. But that’s how it is. And that’s how it will be forever, until we decide we’ve had enough.

“As depicted in many war documentaries and film adaptations, the southern men, the confederates were known for their charisma and valorous charm. They, like the Unionists, were defending their beliefs, never mind whether they were right or immoral, they were fighting with love for their families, their brides, their daughters, their mothers back home. They were fighting for honor” Cowell described slowly, letting every word sink in to whoever was willing to listen.

Now that the talk had shifted to honor and love, some of the other girls in class had stopped passing notes and texting each other from three feet away. I rolled my eyes at their superficial and unrealistic hopes and dreams for some dashing soldier to come sweep them off their fight and ride off with them on their valiant steads, right into the golden sunset.

I bit down my lower lip.

Harry’s dimples, his brunette curls and determined marble-green eyes flashed in my mind. I couldn’t help but try to imagine him as one of those handsome young boys becoming men as they left their lovers to fight off in a war that may very well take their lives.