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
I hope the poor sissy Lola will be all right! Run Lola Run!!;)
ReplyDeleteNope! I got to complete my "delayin' action" for Dear Ol' Dixie!
ReplyDelete