Liberty Calling

Chapter 2

The wind was bitterly cold, and I found myself gripping so tightly to my cloak, my knuckles had turned white. I looked all around me, unsure of where I was, and knowing only that I had to find refuge from this storm. Then all at once, I came to realize that I could not move, for my foot was caught in the knotted root of a tree. I cried out for help, but could not see any sign of man in this crowded forest. The trees stretched upwards for what appeared like an eternity, and everytime I blinked, the maze of brush and thorn seemed to change. Barren trees blocked my view in every direction, yet still, I called out. Then, someone came running towards me, frantically calling my name. I recognized his face the moment I saw him, for I had known it all my life.

"Elias," I sighed with relief. His eyes, the same odd, stormy grey color as my own, were filled with concern. And as he got closer, I noticed he wore ragged clothes that hung loosely from him. His sleeve was torn, and the frayed edges fluttered in the wind.

"We have to go," he said, grabbing my hand.

"I'm stuck, I can't move!"

He took a hatchet from his belt, and began to hack away at the root around my ankle. Then, a deafening shot rang out from behind him, and I screamed. A colonist militiaman ran towards us, his gun still smoking and his face full of a hateful determination. With a final hack, my foot was free, and Elias cried, "Run!"

I gathered my skirts in my fists, and took off running, leaping over fallen trees and bushes. After a few moments, I turned to ask where we should go. But my brother was not behind me. He stood, calmly, right where I had left him, the militiaman nowhere to be found. "Elias please, you have to hurry!" I screamed.

He shook his head. "I can't. I can't come with you."

"What do you mean? Why?"

He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that was more familiar to me than my own breath. "Go on, Em. You'll be alright. I promise."

"But you have to come with me!" Another shot rang out in the distance, and I took a few steps towards my brother.

"No," he said, holding his hand out in a gesture which told me I could not come closer. "Emmeline, you have to run. Go! Go!"

"Please," I said, emotion rising to my throat. "Please, Elias."

His eyes softened, and I knew all at once that he would never come. I felt it, deep in my heart, and it made my stomach turn. He nodded, once, and I began to cry, horrible, ugly tears, because I knew what I had to do. And so I turned, and began to run.

I jerked awake with a start, my heart still racing from my dream. I so rarely dreamt that I surprised myself, and laid in bed a moment longer to run through the scene in my mind. The more I thought on it, the more detail I remembered, and a sick feeling filled my stomach. Emotion began to rise in me as it had in my dream, but this time, I quickly rose from bed, and pulled the window pane up. The sharp, January air filled my room, and stung my face, bringing  me quickly back to reality. The sounds of New York, waking and preparing for a new day calmed my heart, and I closed my eyes.

A gentle knock on the door made me start, and Hannah slowly opened it with apologetic eyes. "I apologize, Miss Emmeline, but your mother is asking for you."

I nodded, and glanced down towards the street. A little boy, his feet wrapped in rags, sauntered past my window, snatching milk bottles and discarded food from doorsteps. He showed no sign of urgency or secrecy, but instead continued on confidently from house to house. "Hannah...how are your boys?"

She glanced behind her worriedly, then stepped into my room, shutting the door behind her. I was the only one of my family who knew about Hannah's children. Mother had said many times that she would never hire a servant who was a mother, and so I kept the secret. I could remember so clearly the night, years before when I saw Hannah, carrying a baby boy on her hip. The night was dark, and she had not expected anyone to recognize her. But I knew her almost as well as I knew my own mother. And so I promised I could keep the secret, and I had all these years later.