EXT. TRAIL OF TEARS - DAY
1831, Autumn.
Feet walk, CHEROKEE PEOPLE, step by step over dead leaves and around dying friends in the midst of a turning forest.
One CHEROKEE MAN, elderly, lies dead in the middle of the group, his eyes open and his face pale.
Small feet stumble past him, KAMAMA, no older than 10, stares at the body, eyes wide. Her mother, GALILAHI, 20s, pulls her along.
They talk speak Iroquoian language, subtitled,
GALILAHI: Come. Don't look. Don't look.
KAMAMA: Is he sleeping?
GALILAHI: I fear he is one with the spirits. Come now.
Galilahi holds Kamama by the shoulders and they continue to walk.
The Cherokee hold all they can carry on their backs, causing them to hunch over and stumble as they step. They're tired and hungry but don't dare complain beyond moans and mumbles.A few stray covered wagons and AMERICAN SOLDIERS on horses, keeping the Native People in line.
Galilahi and Kamama are caught in the middle of it. Pressing against others, scared, wide eyed.
Wind blows. Strong. Cold.
Kamama shivers.
KAMAMA: Mother, it's cold.
GALILAHI: I know.
KAMAMA: Mother, I don't like walking.
GALILAHI: I know.
KAMAMA: Mother, I want my doll.
GALILAHI: I know.
Galilahi looks behind her. A WOMAN falls. No one stops for her, they walk around her body.
Galilahi reaches behind her, to a lump of belongings on her back. She tugs at a blanket, it hardly budges.
She yanks harder, continuing to walk as she does so.
She tugs once more this time too hard, the bundle is ripped from her back sending her tumbling forward onto the ground.
She tries to stand up but there are too many people, they walk around her, and over her.
They give her glances but don't risk stopping.
Kamama stops though. She stands a small distance ahead looking around frantically calling,
KAMAMA: Mother! Mother!
An AMERICAN on a horse rides his horse up to the little girl shouting in a language she doesn't understand, American English.
AMERICAN: Move! Move, girl!
Kamama cries.
KAMAMA: (Iroquoian language, subtitled,) Mother!
Galilahi pulls herself to her feet and grabs a single blanket leaving the rest of the bundle behind.
AMERICAN: (Screaming,) Now! Move!
The American pulls out a baton and threatens to hit Kamama. Galilahi runs to her daughter and intervenes quickly.
Galilahi grabs Kamama and they continue to walk, Galilahi wraps the blanket around Kamama as the child cries.
GALILAHI: Come now, it'll be okay.
Behind them, the bundle sits in the mud, blankets, and sacred belongings left in the mud.A corn husk doll lays among them, getting stepped around, not unlike the people who have fallen before it.
YOU ARE READING
Generations & Genocide
Short Story"A Genocide begins with the killing of one man- Not for what he's done, but because of who he is." -Kofi Annan Generations & Genocide tells the stories of three parents and their children, of three different minorities facing the atrocities other hu...
