Last in a Long Line of Rebels by Lisa Lewis Tyre Read Free Book Online

would talk about.”
    â€œMaybe they do. Mrs. Hall said that if these walls could talk, they might clear up a lot of mystery. Maybe there was a battle here or something.”
    â€œMrs. Hall?” Benzer asked. “When did you talk to her?”
    â€œShe came over while you guys were behind the house. What do you think, Franklin?”
    â€œI don’t know if being a historical property is enough to stop eminent domain, but it’s worth a try. I’ll look up Tennessee battles when I get home.”
    Mama’s laughter drifted out the screen door.
    I looked around. “Y’all don’t say anything about this. Swear?”
    â€œWho would I tell?” Franklin asked. “Tracy?”
    â€œI won’t,” Benzer whispered.
    Aunt Sophie and Mrs. Kimmel walked out on the porch.
    â€œHow’d you do?” I asked.
    â€œThe cards stunk,” said Franklin’s grandmother. She turned to look at him. “Are you two ready? I assume we’re giving Benzer a ride home.”
    â€œIf you don’t mind, ma’am,” Benzer said.
    â€œC’mon, Patty,” Aunt Sophie said. “We’ve got to get going too.”
    Franklin picked his book up off the porch and started after them. “I’ll check into this, Lou. If it works, my troop would never get over it.”
    I waved at the car as they pulled away. “That’s good,” I whispered. “’Cause if it doesn’t, neither will I.”

From the diary of Louise Duncan Mayhew
June 1861
    Walter has enlisted in the 2nd Tennessee Infantry, and they have already been dispatched to Virginia! Mother says our fate was sealed the moment President Lincoln called for troops. Imagine such a thing—calling countrymen to fight countrymen. I can scarce believe we are at war with one another. Is this the right path? One day I think yes, and the next no. I am in a constant state of confusion.
    B enzer and family drove up at 9:45 A . M . , waited all of about four seconds, and started honking.
    â€œLord, save us from Yankees,” Bertie said. She sat at the breakfast table drinking her coffee and complaining of a headache.
    â€œBertie, you look like you’ve got one wheel down and the axle’s dragging. Too much fun at bridge last night?” Daddy asked.
    â€œTucker,” Mama said, “don’t tease. She’s already in a bad enough mood.”
    I downed my orange juice. “Gotta go. See y’all after lunch. Bertie, will you feel like picking us up?”
    She waved her hand in the air in a gesture I hoped meant yes.
    Mama opened the lid of a pig cookie jar, causing it to oink, and counted out three dollars. “This is for the offering basket.”
    â€œTell me again why you’re going to church,” Daddy said. He leaned back in his chair and held his mug out for more coffee.
    I picked up the pot and poured him a new cup, stalling. I couldn’t tell them about the Bible and Benzer’s promise. They stared at me, waiting. “I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “I can hear the church bells ringing every Sunday, and most everybody at my school goes, even Franklin and Patty. Why don’t we?”
    Daddy leaned over the table to pick up the creamer. “I reckon we’ve just never been churchgoing people. Not that we don’t believe in God, but I have always figured he and I could hang together over a fishing hole as easy as we could in a church building.”
    I smiled at that idea. “I’ll have to ask if that counts.”
    â€œSo you’re going to the Catholic church? That’s a good hour away.”
    â€œNo, it’s too far. Benzer says they only go a few times a year. His parents are going to drop us off where Patty and Franklin go.”
    The Zertos honked again.
    â€œHush!” Bertie said, holding her head in her hands. “I swear if they don’t stop, I’m going to tear the hood off of