Friday, June 28, 2013

Dreams of Another Life

By Lola - Lola

I remember that big war we had over here in the states.  The “Civil War”.  I don’t really recollect it being all that “civil”.  Down South here, we generally call it “The War of Northern Agression”, but the Yankees won so I reckon they get the naming rights.

Anyways, back then my sisters used to play dress up with me and let me tell you there ain’t nothin’ so thrilling as being all trussed up in a corset and slathered with frilly petticoats. The telltale weight of a bustle against my bum.. rubbing through the slinky bloomers…  Oh! It was just Heavenly!  Nowadays, we got them lockable high heels the Mistresses use on us sissies.  Well, a high-button shoe is just as impossible to remove, once you get all strapped in to a full set of 19th century foundations and put on a beautiful brocade and lace gown.

Well now, ‘long about the time Ol’ Abe up in Washington let out with that Emancipation Proclamation, my Daddy set our few slaves free to do what they wanted.  Most of ‘em took ?

Off North, I reckon.  Daddy never really liked that whole slavery thing, but he had a big place to run and you couldn’t hire folks to do farm work back in them days, with the slavery economy and all.  Once that was done, he joined the Southern Army as a Colonel so he could defend our land against the hateful Yankees.  The other thing that happened was I started living full time as a girl.

Momma didn’t want me to get conscripted, so she figured I could just stay dressed up like one of her daughters and nobody wouldn’t know any different.  I sure didn’t complain about that, at least not at first....

It all started out as fun, but with the servants gone…. well, my precious sisters started putting all the cleaning and polishing and serving on me!  I complained and whined about it until one day my oldest sister, Anna, told me,  “YOU are not a REAL girl!  You will do as we all say, or we’ll take you in to town and drop you off at Sadie’s Place!  I expect the drunken louts that frequent that establishment won’t be too concerned about that little peanut ‘tween your legs, long as you got a pretty mouth!”

I went to Momma about it, but she said, “Do as your sister says, Sissy.  I have no time for petty fights between my girls.”

That pretty much killed my protestations.

So it went on that way for a couple years, I guess, with me all gussied up and doing for Momma and my sisters.  It was pretty much okay by me, once I got used to being “second rate”.  Only thing was, the War was not going well for Dear Ol’ Dixie!  We was down in Georgia right smack halfway between Atlanta and Savannah, and that skunk General Sherman was heading our way in a hurry!

Momma had a cousin over in Kansas so she decided to take us all out there to escape the Yankees.  The plan was to dress down in homespun and such and take the mule and buckboard wagon, so as not to call attention to ourselves. The mornin’ we was all going to leave, my sisters grabbed me and dressed me to the nines in the prettiest, frilliest gown they could find.  They even did my hair up special like and put powder on my face.  I didn’t understand why they was all in drab ol’ rags and I looked like a princess, but I got to learn about that by and by....

Ol’ Sherman, or “Atilla the Yankee”, had let his animals loose to storm the countryside. They was taking over all the farms and looting everything they laid eyes on… including the women folk.  Anna told me that I would be able to save them by delaying the filthy horde while they got away.  I didn’t ‘xactly know how I would be able to “delay” anyone… and I was plenty scared.   I allowed as how I would change back to a boy and high tail it myself once they were out of sight down the road.  I reckon my face musta showed what I was thinkin', ‘cause Anna all at once piped up with,  “We burned your old clothes two months ago, you silly sissy.  You best be tryin’ to think up ways to make your little self of use to our Northern guests!”

And with that, they all ganged up on me and I wound up tied face down over a barrel on the veranda with my skirts thrown over my head.  They took off down the road and I never saw any of them again.

It was nearly dark when I heard the horses coming up the road.  I was tied facing away from the road, so I couldn’t see who it was… but I could sure smell them.   Horse smell and human smell mixed with burnt gunpowder.  Wood smoke and tobacco… and whiskey… they were drunk….  As the first one came up the steps, standing behind me, I  remembered Anna’s final words as she smacked me hard on the behind… “Do a good job, Sissy, and they MIGHT keep you alive!”
By Lola - Lola
Layout  Marta


  1. I hope the poor sissy Lola will be all right! Run Lola Run!!;)

  2. Nope! I got to complete my "delayin' action" for Dear Ol' Dixie!