The Voice of the Grave

   I ignored the rain pounding at my face.  It didn’t matter.  Nothing did.  Nothing but this mound of dirt at my feet with a wooden cross in front of it.  “H-Henry?” Ann’s voice quavered.  I looked blankly at her.  Big brown eyes gazed up at me, tears streaming from their corners.

    “What?!” my voice came out coarse and harsh. 

    She stared down at my muddy boots and gulped.  “W-what are we going to do?”

    I bit my lip.  Good question.  One I had been asking myself for the past day.  What could a fourteen year old do with his mother dead, father gone off to war, and a little sister to care for?  Why me?  I looked up through the rain into the gray sky.  I thought you cared.  How could you do this?  What type of God are you?  Then I voiced the words-those three words I had never before thought I would say.  “I hate you.”

    “Sammy!” my voice thundered through the empty barn.

    “Yes suh?” a young Negro boy lept out of the loft and landed lightly on the ground.

    “Get the two Arabians out of the woods.  Then saddle them up and get some food.  Enough to last for a long trip.”

    “Suh, are you leavin?” Sammy’s dark face took on a worried look.

    “Noo!” Ann wailed grabbing my leg. 

    Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath.  “Ann, stop it.”  I reached down and scooped her up into my arms.  She laid her head on my shoulder, her body still shaking with sobs.  “Yes, Sammy, we are.  I don’t see no other way.  The Yankees are getting closer.  We should flee while we can.” 

    “Where will ya go?”

    I clenched my jaw.  This was the hardest part of it.  “North to New York.  I have an Aunt who lives there.  I’m going to leave Ann with her then come back down and join the army.”  How I hated the thought of having to travel through that hated country. 

    Sammy said nothing.  He just stared down at the ground a mix of emotions on his face.  “I’ll go an’ get da horses.”    

    I kissed Ann lightly on the head, “Come on, let’s get ready.” 

   

    I didn’t pack many clothes.  Food was more important since we weren’t taking a pack horse.  I knew that  was a risk.  Hunting would be a necessity, which would slow us down.  But then there was the flip side.  If we ran across any soldiers, we would be more likely to out run them if we didn’t have the pack horse.  “Ann!” I eyed a set of boys clothes.  She entered my room, face pale.  I tried to smile has I hunkered down on her level.  “Try these on.”  To my surprise she did not voice a complaint, but took the clothing and left the room as silently as she had come.  A worm of fear wiggled through my mind.  Why couldn’t she cry or yell ?  At least she would act human.  The silent act scared me.

    I tightened the saddle bag and swung it over my shoulder and headed outside.  The horses stood calmly in front of the house, their heads held high.  They were the finest stock around.  “I’m sure glad we hid you when the army came lookin for horses.”  I patted the gray’s neck then tied my saddle bag securely to the saddle.  A sack of food hung from each saddle horn and a rifle sat in the boot.  “Thanks Sammy,” I shook the black boy’s hand firmly.  “I’ll miss you.”

    “Yes, suh.”  He looked away quickly, trying to hide the tears in his eyes. 

    The front door opened revealing a pale faced Ann.  The clothes had fit perfectly, and with a hat, she could pass for a boy.  She ran down the steps and into my arms.  Her small body quivered in my grasp.  I hugged her tightly then swung her up onto the bay’s back.  I shook Sammy’s hand one more time before mounting.  Without a backward look I rode out of the yard and past my mother’s grave.  I tightened my grip on my sister’s reins.  We would make it.  We had to.