Beware & Behold

Virginia Military Institute

"Are they here yet? Have you seen them? They were supposed to arrive today," Derek said, eyes wide, his gray cadet uniform with brass buttons catching the rays of the sun through the triangular-framed windows of the Virginia Military Institute.

"They better be," Shawn chased him, his figure maneuvering among the marble columns, in pure awe and excitement. They were two young cadets full of life, youth and free spirit. He approached Derek from the back and placed one arm around his neck while the other ruffled his hair companionably. Derek, in return, patted him on the shoulder, and they both streamed down the stairs into the foyer where the red cannons ordered by Thomas Jonathan Jackson were displayed.

In the spacious VMI foyer, the floors were the color of ivory and the walls depicted the sky. A blanket of blue filled the hallways, and the air burst out with chatter. Cadets gathered by the entrance and leaned over the balconies to gaze at the cannons that were rolled in just a couple moments ago. Massive cast iron military engines made the floor tremble, their shiny muzzles ready to throw a projectile.

"If only I knew how to fire a cannon," Derek whispered to Shawn when they found a place to observe the cannons.

"Don't get too excited, we have Jackson breathing down our backs. Without a cup of his morning coffee, you can forget about approaching them within one hundred feet," Shawn said and looked over at Thomas Jackson, who met his eyes and raised his hand, silencing the crowd of chattering cadets.

"When the night comes, only the owls are awake, and we, my friend, are their night companions." Derek's face lit up; his white smile matched his white shirt that stuck out from under the frock.

The ruby on Shawn's cheekbones darkened and he shook his head: "There are serious consequences to our actions, Derek. We can't mess around with VMI artillery. We could get thrown out, or worse."

"What could be worse than standing here, admiring the beauty of a cannon and having no control over it? Besides, we aren't going to get thrown out if we approach them for the purpose of studying." Derek shrugged, looking over at Shawn and the tall figure of Jackson speaking to one of the cadets.

"Worse would be never seeing a battlefield. Charging the artillery. Is that what you really want? The shame?" Shawn asked, fixing the sleeves of his jacket. "What are you looking at, Stevenson? Huh? Mama never taught you manners?" He suddenly addressed the cadet in front of him who kept turning around, listening to their conversation. The cadet sent Shawn a guilty but disappointed gaze and disappeared in the crowds of jackets.

"All I am saying is that we can't stay in the dark. We need to get out there."

"Out there or not, we have to get through Jackson's class in order to get there, and he is eyeing us like a hawk," Shawn whispered into Derek's ear.

"Gentlemen, you have more than just Jackson to worry about. Once the ice-cold eyes of obscurity spread their venom over the battleground, you are as good as gone," Cadet Mills whispered.

"Thanks for your invaluable input, Cadet Mills. We greatly appreciate it," Derek said and threw Mills a cold gaze. Mills came from a family that never had financial hardships, the rank of the General was encased in his bloodline, only the lack of moral guidance stood out as his greatest weakness like a black line on a white sheet of paper. The dislike, it was mutual.

Mills' face lit up with pride. He was a young Cadet with a neatly trimmed beard, jet-black eyes and a slim figure that accompanied a nicely shaped face. "Cadet Cromwell, what side are you on, or would you prefer I remind you?"

Derek squeezed his hand into fists. "Oh, there is no need. I heard you shared a bed with a red-haired seamstress in town. The walls have eyes and ears, and you should consider marriage. I am sure her father would be pleased to give her hand to a handsome lad like yourself," Derek said and smiled.