"Keep moving," I said, "you're still on the wrong side. Get across the bridge." I knew that she was tired and wished that I had shown more patience, but what the hell was she doing on foot anyway?

The water was coming and soon. A dam had broken up river; I think half the people didn't believe it could flood on a sunny day, but they were going. I could see the end of the line of cars at last.

The old woman, and she was as old as any I had ever seen, looked up at me and roared with a deep voiced laughter. She kept it up until she started coughing. Finally she said, "I've been on the wrong side most 'a my whole damn life, no reason to stop now, Sergeant. Gotta a cigarette?"

"I don't smoke."

"Kids, all cowards. Been smoking 'bout over seventy years. Still here." Then she coughed some more and reached into her bag and took out a Marlboro.

"Why you bumming smokes when you got some?"

"These got to last. Gonna be crammed into some church hall for weeks. Why they leave you without a Jeep, Sarge?"

"My jobs here 'til the last truck comes through. It would be better if you called me deputy, but I'm just volunteer posse."

One of the roads that intersected just before the narrow bridge was now empty. I decided I could take my first break from directing traffic in almost eight hours.

"I knew that," she said, "Thought I'd make you important. That's not our county's shirts. They bringing in outlanders to chase ol' folks from their homes?"

"Yep. But I just come from the next county over; too much of the National Guard is away these days. Where did you come from? What are you doing on foot?"

"I'as born and I live by the branch 'bout three miles down there," She said pointing at the smaller of the two roads. I decided I didn't want to go to the other side and got off that truck they threw me on."

"Ma'am, you sure shouldn't 'a done that. They're trying to divert water to that creek to save the next dam, it's going to flood too. You got to leave."

"I been on this side too long - too long. Not right they can arrest a person for being on there own land."

"Well, they can't, but they can act like they can. They're just trying to help you; cleaning up bodies is worse duty then evacuations."

"Bastards. And if they do it so they don't have to bury me, then it ain't a favor for me. Never did want this body. I'm going home," she said and stood up.

"Can't let you do that. You're not at your own house now and I'd arrest you as a suspected looter and handcuff you to the stop sign."

"So what do I do? Sit here and drown."

"A deuce-and-a-half will be by in a bit. I'll get you a seat in the cab this time.

"That one of those big trucks they put me on when they pulled me out of my house? -- I don't want to go to the other side anymore."

The old bat coughed again and sat down in the middle of the highway. She took out another cigarette. I decided to ignore her. What the hell, no more cars were coming; it looked like an evacuation had worked for once.

After a few minutes she said, "My cats; they made me leave my cats. What'll happen to them?"

"Cats are clever; they'll head for some where high. They might be on their way to the hills already."

"They were still on the porch when I left. They're homebodies like me. Don't want to go to the other side. Too many nosey people there."

"You mean you've spent your whole life in the bottoms; never been across the bridge?"

"Oh, hell no. I got out when I was sixteen, when people figured out I was on the wrong side, and didn't come back for forty five years, and most people had forgot me. Went to the city. Then I followed a beau to Spain. That was in '36. You know about Spain in '36, Captain?"

I nodded and she went on. "I was on the wrong side there too. Of course, it was the right side until about twelve, fifteen, years later; funny how the right side to be on can change isn't it. Hell, sometimes it was hard to tell which damn side we were on in that fight."

"You don't look old enough."

"Welll, you're grandmother taught you right! I was born on November 10, 1918. You know what the day after that was?"

"Sure."

"Born the day before the end of the Great War. That's what we called it until others came along. Had an uncle in that. He always said if that was a great war he'd hate to see a bad one." She tried to laugh again but coughed instead. "That war killed him. Didn't bury him for another thirty years, but the Huns got him right in the liver. I didn't go to the funeral. He was the worst of the bastards when they figured out what side I belonged on. Don't matter though. Don't bother going to my funeral, Lieutenant, I won't be there either."

She didn't say anything for almost a minute, then she asked, "So you believe I had a beau back then?"

"I'm sure you had lots; bet you were a beauty."

She managed a laugh and said, "No, not a beauty, might be called cute these days though. And not a lot of beaus either, have to be careful when you were born on the wrong side. Even back then. Know what I do? I run a piece of steel across my face everyday, usually two or three times a day. It tightens the face up and keeps me less wrinkled. All women should do that; I started when I was just a kid. -- Never saw battle did ya', young man?"

I shook my head. Why wouldn't she just shut up?

"Ain't missed a thing," she said. "Madrid and Barcelona. What a mess." Then she coughed some more.

"Must have been hard on a woman." I said.

"Oh, I was in disguise. Nobody had time to care. That boy I followed got killed in Barcelona; don't know who did it, weren't any sides left by then, the price of politics. A boy I knew after that joined the Canadians in '39. Heard he went a bridge too far and didn't come back. We all cross that bridge. Get old and everyone else is across that bridge where there are no disguises.

"All these green trucks and convoys have made me ramble like an old bitty, huh Major?"

I didn't answer but walk into the empty intersection to listen for the truck. She pulled out another cigarette and coughed. She yelled at me, "These things haven't killed me yet, Sarge. Don't do things figuring you'll be dead before it matters, 'cuz you might not be. So, you think my cats will be OK?"

I couldn't hear the trucks. I nodded as I walked back towards the old woman.

"At least they will get to decide which bridge to cross; won't have to go to some packed evacuation center where people will be asking what side they belong on.

"I stayed in the city for over forty years; I learned it was best to stay low in Barcelona, but in a crowd things get noticed. I been out of disguise for nearly thirty years. Since my sister died and I got the house. I figure, if I have to cross a bridge today it should be my choice which one, Auxiliary Deputy, sir." She stared at me.

I walked to the other end of the bridge. When I heard the truck coming I flagged it down and had the driver park across both lanes.