Cairo's What Happened Next Story


"After all, tomorrow is another day."

The words echoed through the dimly lit and somber house. Every line in Scarlett's body proclaimed defiance, her refusal to submit to fate.

"I told you it was a mistake to come here," Charles Hamilton said kindly but emphatically as he wrapped a protective arm around his sister's waist. But Melanie broke free of his embrace and rushed to Scarlett.

"Oh my poor Scarlett," she sobbed, staring at the faintly seen image. "My brave, brave darling!"

She tried to take Scarlett in her arms but failed, and Scarlett shuddered as though some sudden chill had settled on her spine. Melanie fell back, still unaccustomed to her new incorporeal nature, and looked beseechingly at Charles.

"She doesn't know we're here," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "And we shouldn't be here. Let's go from this place, Melly. There's only sadness here and you can't bring Scarlett any comfort.

"It's time to go to our own place, to a place of peace and joy. So many old friends are waiting to greet you, Melly, and it's not a time for sadness."

But Melanie's cheeks were streaked with tears as she looked at her brother.

"I just can't, Charlie. I love her so."

"You must. I love her, too. But we can't stay here.

"Take my hand. It's not far to go. There's so much happiness waiting for you and you'll soon forget. . ."

"No," Melanie cried fiercely. "Captain Butler is a good man. I know that deep inside he still loves Scarlett. They have to come together again. I have to bring them back together!"

"Melanie, you don't know what you're saying!" Charles stared at her in shock. "We're on the other side. We can't interfere with what happens in the world. We can only come and watch, and we really shouldn't even do that.

"Come with me. Take my hand. We must leave."

"But Scarlett. . ."

"Scarlett and Captain Butler must find their own way. But don't worry, Melly. They'll join us someday and we'll all be very happy. Now come with me."

But Melanie still made no move to accompany her brother. Charles took her in his arms and pressed her weeping face to his chest.

"There, there, Melly," he said, patting her gently. "It'll be all right. I promise. These things just take time, and we have lots of time. Just come with me."

And with his arm firmly around her waist, he led her away.

***

"Miss Melanie! You've come."

The first to meet her were the young men of Atlanta, the boys she had grown up with. Darcy Meade was in the lead, his grinning face betraying a trace of doubt only as to whether he should pick her up in his arms and swing her around or content himself with merely taking her hand. He settled for a quick hug.

Others crowded in after him, joyously profuse with their welcomes. But some were more reserved. Little Phil Meade, now a fully accepted comrade of the big boys, blushed shyly as he smiled his welcome. Then Dallas McLure, resplendent in his Confederate uniform, stepped forward cautiously and studied Melanie's face anxiously before asking, "Miss Melanie, do they still love us in Dixie?"

The question was shockingly unexpected and tore at her heart. Her smiles gave way to tears as she gathered him in an embrace and sobbed, "Oh Dallas, of course we still love you. And miss you so very, very much."

There were reproving murmurs from the other young men and Darcy Meade quickly exclaimed, "Dallas, don't you upset Melanie like that!

"Dallas always asks that, Melanie. Every time old friends come. He doesn't mean anything by it."

"I'm sorry I upset you, Miss Melanie," Dallas apologized, looking down at his feet. "I didn't mean to. It just seems like I have to ask.

"I still miss my sisters," he said softly. "Even after all this time."

He looked up again and his eyes met hers. "It's good here, Miss Melanie, and we're so happy, and I know we'll all be together again soon. But still, I miss them. I didn't mind it much for myself when I had to go, but I did so worry having to leave them behind."

Dallas McLure's words were making the others uncomfortable and for Melanie they brought back terrible memories. Memories of the stifling Summer heat and flies, the unearthly stillness that day they waited silently, painfully for the casualty lists from Gettysburg to be released. Memories of her agonized relief when Ashley's name was not listed among the slain. Memories of the McLure sisters, Miss Faith and Miss Hope, leaving in their pony cart, their faces like death, when Dallas' name was.

And with the memories the torrents of grief welled up within her, too powerful to contain. She clamped her eyes shut, desperately trying to staunch the tears. But the tears burst forth, shattering through her feeble restraints, and poured down her cheeks, and her shoulders shook as sob after sob racked her slender body.

Charles rushed to her side, wrapping her in a comforting embrace, as the young men stood around in embarrassed helplessness. Several warning looks were shot at Dallas, whose stricken face showed clearly his regret at the harm his blundering comments had caused.

"Dallas McLure, why don't you hush your mouth for a change!" someone growled.

"Now don't you cry, Melly," Darcy said. "Why we have more fun here than you ever saw.

"Say, look at my boots," he added, grasping at the first idea he could find for changing the conversation. "Ain't they grand! Pa and Ma were going to send me a new pair. Won't they get the biggest kick when they see me wearing these!"

The other boys were vociferous in their admiration of Darcy's boots. And their enthusiasm over such a trifle was so ridiculous that Melanie couldn't help but smile through her tears.

Fortunately, Charles had another distraction for her.

"Look, Melly. Look who's come to meet you."

Melanie looked and her eyes went wide with realization.

"Papa! Mama!" she cried, rushing to their arms.

"Just look at you, Melly," Colonel Hamilton laughed, so different from the stern, hot-tempered soldier of old. "Just look at us all. Together again, at long last."

Melanie's father and mother and brother enveloped her with embraces, smothering her in their love.

"You see, Melly," Charles announced joyously. "See how wonderful it is."

More figures were waiting just beyond.

"Mr. Wilkes, Mrs. Wilkes," Melanie beckoned to them.

Ashley's parents came forward at her call, their faces alight with pleasure, and the Hamiltons surrendered Melanie to their love.

"Oh my dear, my child," Mrs. Wilkes sobbed happily as she embraced Melanie. "I was there at your wedding. When you married my Ashley and became my daughter. You didn't know it, but I was there. And here is the kiss I wanted so much to give you that day."

"Look around you, Melanie," John Wilkes urged. "Isn't it beautiful."

Melanie looked and gasped. She was in the garden at Twelve Oaks, a Twelve Oaks more breathtakingly beautiful than she had ever seen. The immaculately trimmed garden teemed with flowers of colors and hues vivid in unearthly glory. And their fragrances, wafting to her nostrils, bore a sweetness she had never before known. And there was the mansion, stately and magnificent, untouched by the travails of war and desolation, almost lifelike in its bidding welcome.

"We're having a party tonight in Melanie's honor," John Wilkes announced. "And everyone is invited.

"Melly, we're going to fuss over you and pamper you, and don't you dare get embarrassed and try to stop us."

Melanie looked around at the smiling faces and tried to smile in return. But a shadow of sadness fell over her, and she shook her head.

"I'm sorry. I truly am sorry, but I can't. I can't go to a party and be merry when Scarlett is hurting so."

"Scarlett?" John Wilkes asked uneasily. And the mournful look on Charles' face told how he had tried to remove this burden from his sister's shoulders.

"Captain Butler is leaving Scarlett," Melanie told them, "That's what he says. And he says his love for her is dead. But it can't be. It just can't be.

"Oh Mr. Wilkes! You wouldn't have a grandson to carry on the Wilkes name, if not for Scarlett. When I think of how she stayed and brought Beau into the world, even though Atlanta was falling around us, and how she carried us all the way through the Yankee army to Tara, and slaved like a field hand to put food in our bellies. . . I just can't go away and leave her."

"Child, you have left," Mrs. Hamilton answered. "Scarlett is still in the world. But you've passed over to this side.

"We know you love her. But now it's time to leave the world's sorrows behind."

"No," Melanie declared. "I must do everything in my power to help Scarlett. I know Captain Butler loves her so. And Scarlett loves him. I cannot, I will not rest until they're together again."

"Melanie," Colonel Hamilton intoned, "I'm a soldier and lived a soldier's life. But I was never called to experience the hardship you were made to endure. In life we must endure hardship as a good soldier, but beyond life we must lay aside our armor.

"There's nothing you can do for Scarlett now, and it's wrong to deny yourself the happiness you have earned. Mrs. O'Hara can tell you that."

"Mrs. O'Hara?" Melanie replied uncertainly, and turning in the direction her father was looking, her eyes fell on Ellen.

But it was an Ellen O'Hara she had never seen before. Could this strikingly beautiful woman, her eyes aglow with joy, her smile alive with warmth and humor, really be Scarlett's mother?

Ellen rushed forward to give Melanie a welcoming kiss, as if she were a schoolgirl greeting her dearest friend, in giddy anticipation of the coming evening when they would wile away the hours in giggling nonsense and shared confidences. Melanie was so bewildered by this change from the gracious but melancholy Mrs. O'Hara she had always known that she didn't even see the handsome, black-eyed stranger until Ellen pointed him out.

"Melanie dear, this is my cousin Philippe Robillard of Savannah."

Philippe Robillard had a bold and dangerous look to him, but he was certainly cultured and charming to ladies. For he took Melanie's hand lightly in his own and with a gracious bow raised it to his lips.

And his eyes sparkled with a wicked gleam as he said in a marvelous Coastal Georgia drawl, "Enchanted to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Wilkes. May I please call you 'Miss Melanie'?"

"Oh, my!" Melanie replied.

"Aunt Melly. Aunt Melly." came a familiar, childish voice, and Melanie's heart leaped within her at the sound.

"Bonnie!"

She quickly knelt with arms outspread as the little girl ran to her. Bonnie was more beautiful than ever in her blue velvet riding habit and black hat with red plume.

"We've been riding and Mr. Butler is the gwandest horse and I jumped every fence and I'm going to jump them again," Bonnie prattled happily.

"Aye, every fence and every green hedge," came Gerald O'Hara's booming voice. "Ah, Miss Melanie, 'tis delighted I am to welcome you to Tara, where the fences are the finest for jumping that ever were made, and the hedges are greener than the Emerald Isle itself."

"And the sky is blue," Bonnie chimed in.

"And the sky is blue," Gerald agreed. "As blue as. . ."

"As blue as the bonnie blue flag!" Bonnie squealed with delight.

They all laughed with Bonnie, overcome by her childish exuberance, and Philippe Robillard patted her cheek with a grin and said, "You're looking mighty pretty today, little Sis."

Gerald made a slight throat clearing noise and quickly informed Melanie, "It's New Tara, of course, but we're just for calling it Tara, as we don't want to confuse such a grand place with that thieving Yankee city of New York."

"I prefer to think of it like that fine Southern city of New Orleans," Philippe Robillard said smoothly.

Gerald shot him a look and Melanie realized that although the two men were polite to each other, there was some tension between them whose cause she could not guess. Ellen quickly suppressed any hint of unpleasantness by linking arms with each man. She gave Melanie another of her warming smiles.

"Bonnie is such a wonderful rider, and you should see how she takes her jumps," she said.

"Aye, she's a little. . .centaur, she is!" Gerald agreed, pausing slightly to make sure he had the right word.

"Mr. O'Hara takes her riding every day. The boys, too."

"The boys?" Melanie wondered how she had failed to notice the boys. Three of them, somewhat older than Bonnie, dressed in identical emerald green coats with charcoal gray riding breeches and fine leather boots, hanging back, but gazing at her with friendly admiration and not a trace of shyness in their eyes.

"It's forgetting my manners I am," Gerald exclaimed, slapping his brow in dismay. "And what you must think of me, Miss Melanie.

"Yes, these are my boys. Three fine young bucks, if you please, and every one of them a Gerald O'Hara, Jr. And can they not ride and take the jumps with the best of them! Meaning me. Step forward, boys, and don't be bashful. Say 'Hello' to Miss Melanie."

The boys lined up and shook her hand and it was hard to resist the urge to fawn over them and pet them. They reminded her so much of Scarlett.

"A grand thing it is for a man to be full of years and surrounded by his family," Gerald announced happily.

"But all the family isn't here," Melanie said. "And Scarlett needs our help."

They all eyed her silently.

"We must do something to bring Captain Butler back to Scarlett," Melanie implored.

"Have no fear, Miss Melanie," Gerald protested half-heartedly. "Scarlett needs no help from us. Why it's the belle of the County she is. With more beaux than you can shake a stick at.

"If it's Captain Butler she's wanting, then it's Captain Butler she'll be having, and the devil to pay if all the Captain Butlers in the world try to stop her. So don't bother your pretty, little head about helping Scarlett. Not when you've only just landed here."

"Melanie, child," and this was the gentle, well-remembered Ellen speaking, "I love Scarlett more than life itself. I would make any sacrifice for her. But sometimes the greatest love and sacrifice a mother can make for her children is to let them go.

"For us now there is nothing to be done. We have no power to act in her life.

"And besides, my dear. . . Oh, how can I explain this?" she said with ruffled brow.

"There is a world full of unhappiness behind us. Loved ones are parted, and the light goes out of their lives, and they think it's forever.

"But it is not." Ellen was holding a baby in her arms. A little boy who stared at Melanie in childish wonder as he clutched at Ellen with chubby little hands.

"Yes," Ellen smiled. "This is our grandson. Scarlett's baby, that you thought was lost when she fell down the stairs. But you were never lost at all were you," she cooed at the baby. "Not for even one little moment.

"So you see, dear," she said looking back at Melanie, "here loved ones are reunited, lights are rekindled, more brightly than before, and this, this is forever. Here the toils of the world seem nothing."

"Thank you, Mrs. O'Hara," Colonel Hamilton said. "You put it so well.

"And that's the truth of it. Melanie, it speaks well of you. This concern for Scarlett. But partings, all partings, are only temporary. All will be well. And now it's time for you to rest from your labors."

"I make you this promise, Melly," John Wilkes added. When Scarlett comes, and Captain Butler, and Ashley, and Beau, and Beau's wife and children all come, then we'll have the finest barbecue that Twelve Oaks ever saw, and you'll forget that you ever worried. . ."

Melanie intended to protest as soon as her father-in-law ceased speaking, but both her intentions and his promises were suddenly interrupted by whoops and hollers.

"Miss Melanie, Miss Melanie. Over here, Miss Melanie."

And suddenly she was surrounded by the County boys, jockeying for position as they pressed forward to greet her.

"Miss Melanie, will you eat supper with us tonight?" asked Brent and Stuart Tarleton, their voices running together as they spoke simultaneously.

"Miss Melanie, would you be my partner in a reel?" asked Cade Calvert.

"Miss Melanie, I should be honored if you would give me the first waltz," said his brother Raiford.

"No, to me!" This from Joe Fontaine.

"You can have the schottisches, Joe," snapped Tom Tarleton. "Me and my brothers are having all the waltzes."

"And we'll make sure all the dances are waltzes," Stuart added, menacingly.

"Hey! I'm having the first waltz," Raif shouted, glaring at Stuart.

"That's right. And I'm having the first reel," Cade said, backing up his brother.

The Tarletons and the Calverts immediately faced off, and Lafe Munroe took advantage of their distraction to ask Melanie for the polkas.

It was like that last barbecue at Twelve Oaks, the day the war came into their lives, only it was a very overwhelmed Melanie, not Scarlett, who was surrounded by all the young men. Scarlett would have known how to handle this attention. Melanie could only stammer an occasional protest, unheard by her admirers.

"But. . .but. . ."

"Gentlemen, Gentlemen! May I make a suggestion?"

All eyes turned to Boyd Tarleton.

"We Tarletons will have the mazurkas and the Calverts can have the waltzes.

This suggestion was met with grudging acceptance by the others.

"Just as long as I get the first waltz," said Raif.

Boyd kissed Melanie's hand with an elegance second to none, not even Philippe Robillard.

"Miss Melanie, it is indeed a pleasure to welcome a lady of culture and breeding. A lady who appreciates the finer things of life. And who realizes that the finer things include an education."

That last comment was obviously intended for the other men and Boyd's face wore a satisfied smirk at the buzzing of outrage it provoked.

"I thought I'd never get an education," he informed Melanie. "The way the twins were forever getting themselves expelled from each and every school they attended. But now I finally get to study law."

And his voice warmed with enthusiasm and passion.

"It's astounding, Miss Melanie, the legal groundwork laid by Hammurabi. We never knew because so much of his writings were lost in ancient times.

"And Roman law. Just think of it, Miss Melanie. For the one and only time in history the entire Mediterranean world governed by a single legal code. But do you know what is most impressive of all?"

Melanie could only stare at him, speechless. Where did a Tarleton ever acquire such erudition?

"Anglo-American common law," Boyd announced triumphantly. "Not a codification of inflexible rules, but the embodiment of broad and comprehensive unwritten principles, inspired by natural reason and an innate sense of justice."

There was a rising rumble of irritation among the boys over the way Boyd was monopolizing Melanie with this tedious palaver, and Joe Fontaine's anger suddenly burst forth.

"Codification! Embodiment! You talk like a Yankee!"

The hot Tarleton tempers flashed at this insult and they rounded on Joe like a swarm of angry hornets.

"What do you mean by that, Suh?" Boyd's exaggerated drawl left no doubt of the depth of his fury.

But Joe stood his ground, with murderous rage in his eyes.

"What I mean, Suh, is. . ."

"Don't you boys know better than to fight in front of a lady?" came Grandma Fontaine's caustic voice. "Don't mind them, Miss. They just don't have any manners, which ain't always a bad thing. Sometimes manners are downright inconvenient.

"Joe Fontaine, you haven't any more sense than a goose. Picking a fight with the Tarletons. One Fontaine can whup any three men, but in case you hadn't noticed, there are four of them and only one of you.

"Why don't you wait till Alex and Tony get here and then the three of you can rule the roost! If you don't light into each other first."

These remarks made the boys bristle but Grandma Fontaine cared not a whit. Nobody in this or any other world had ever, or would ever, stop her from speaking her mind. Melanie desperately looked around for a way to escape this madness.

"Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy. Oh please, we must speak."

Frank Kennedy was on the periphery and he turned worried eyes to her at her summons.

"My, My, Miss Melanie. Now don't you go getting yourself in a tizzy about the boys. They don't mean nothing."

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