Blue Thunder (4 page)

“She’s not daid.” Sam told Effie. He carried
the child to another bedroom. Crying bitterly, she went to fetch
water and returned to see Daphne lying on her parent’s bed, void
eyes staring at the ceiling. She then washed up the little victim
as tears streamed down her face. Effie blessed herself and covered
the girl with a blanket.

Sam sat on a chair,
thinking,
this day had been a nightmare
and it was the poor child’s birthday.

18

FIVE

A crash outside the door awakened Melissa.
As she had feared, the lantern had gone out leaving her in pitch
darkness leaving her with no way to know how long she had slept. It
wasn’t a deep sleep, how could she when fear of the unknown was all
around her, suffocating her. Again she pounded on the door feeling
pain in her wrists. She didn’t care if she broke all her fingers,
she’d pound until someone found her. Then she heard it, the knob
rattled.

“Thank God, she whispered as tears filled
her eyes.

“Oh, chil’ Ah almost fo’ got ‘bout yo’,”
Effie said from the other side of the door. “Y’all gets yo’ self
back. Ole Sam is gonna chop de door wit an ax.”

“Why?”

“D-do as Ah s-say, chil’.” she yelled.

Confused, but too upset to query further,
Melissa flattened herself against the damp wall. Shortly, splinters
flew by her head; the door swung open and she fell weakly onto the
kitchen floor. Unaccustomed to the light, her eyes barely saw Effie
and Sam reach down to help her up.

“Tank de Lawd yo’re safe.”

Melissa tried to speak but her throat was
parched from crying. Her mind raced with many questions.

What were those gunshots and strange men’s
voices she had heard? Why was she locked up and left there so
long?

She was full of dread. Dazed, the servants
help her to a seat when she noticed the broken chair by the stove.
She opened her mouth to speak but Sam appeared by her side with a
glass of water.

“Drink,” the servant advised, shoving the
glass in her hand. She swallowed quickly, dribbling most of the
liquid down her quivering chin. Her eyes pleaded with Effie for
answers while her stomach knotted in fear.

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“Honey, yo’ mus’ be brave, we all needs yore
strength. Yo’ is strong, Ah knows it, ‘n’ so do Sam. Wha’ Ah mus’
tell yo’ ‘bout t’ tear yore heart out.” The cook wiped her eyes
with her apron and Melissa saw the blood on Effie’s hands.

“Mama? Papa?”

Effie shook her head, sadly. “When yo’ waz
in de pit, de devil an’ his black angels rode in an’ attack yo’
home.” Yore mama and papa are daid.” Taking hold of Melissa’s hand,
Effie cried, “Dey waz Blue Bellies.”

Sam, although almost deaf, she saw him wince
when she screamed. Broken-hearted, she pulled away from Effie’s
grip and ran for the door, but Sam grabbed her and held her fast.
Melissa kicked but when her soft shoe made contact with his shins,
she only pained herself.

“No chil’. Sam will see if any slaves are
aroun’ t’ bury yore parents and those heathens. It sho’ not wise t’
go out thea.”

Weeping, Effie held her to her bosom and
proceeded to tell her the rest of the horrible

story and Daphne’s rape. Melissa went limp
in the woman’s arms praying that it was all a night-mare but the
reality of the horror was all around her. She could actually smell
blood seeping from the walls of the house.

“Take me to her,” Melissa croaked, wiping
tears on the hem of her dress; her sister needed her. She took a
deep breath; she’d be strong for Daphne. Would she ever be the
same? She thought not.

Her trembling legs nearly buckled when
climbing the long stairs and her head whirled with all she had to
digest in such a short time. She should have been with her parents,
but it was no time for regrets now. Effie was right, she had to be
strong for not only her own sake but for her sister, she reminded
herself. Her parents would want this of her.

Mother. Father. Gone? Murdered by damn Union
Soldiers!

It still seamed unreal but seeing Daphne in
the oversized bed, pale, almost looking dead, again she knew it was
all too true. She stared at her sibling’s lifeless form; her sister
looked peaceful. Placing a shaking hand on the sheet, the soft
heartbeat pulsated against her palm; she picked up the linen to
study her sibling’s bruised body. A wave of nausea hit her.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry you had to
witness our parent’s slaughter and be violated.”

20

She kissed the pale face and sighed
remembering it was Daphne’s birthday. No child should have gone
through what she had on that day, any day. Effie had explained that
Daphne had lost all recollection. Although, it was a terrible thing
to hope for, Melissa prayed that her sister lost her memory before
that animal raped her. She sat by the bed a long time worrying
about their future. Would they have to leave this place? Something
like this could happen again.

The war had come further south than
expected. She had seen the wounded return home when she helped the
doctor in town, but this happened to her own parents. It would
never happen again! She made the decision. She had thought it
through. There was no more time for tears.

The next day, she asked Effie for some of
her grandson’s clothes. They bound Daphne’s small breasts and
before the servant’s horrified eyes, Melissa cut off her sister’s
beautiful nutmeg locks. Sam hitched up the wagon, while she took
her mother’s jewels and a few possessions and coins her father kept
in the desk drawer. She visited her parents freshly covered graves
to say her good-byes, promising to take care of Daphne. Despite her
tears, she believed her parents were in a better place and was glad
they were together. One could have never lived without the
other.

Melissa told Effie and Sam that they were
free to go with the other slaves, but they refused, saying they
were too old to start over. She watched her servants say a tearful
good-bye to their son and grandson, who decided to find a new life
with his friend’s parents. When they all climbed into the wagon,
she saw Effie hold Daphne protectively in her pendulous arms. From
now on Daphne would be known as David, a mute boy. Sam snapped the
reins and Melissa didn’t look back. But the memories - of her home,
childhood, and her parents - were left behind, but they would never
be forgotten. Melissa clutched the family Bible to her breast as
visions of her sister and brother filled her mind; the innocent
days they frolicked in the fertile, green grass. And her Birds-Eye
bedroom furniture and the crystal chandelier that captured and held
the warmth of the sun. The rocking chair on the front porch, her
mother’s garden and... She had to stop, it pained her too much. It
was all gone; all but the memories.

21

SIX

Weeks later, Melissa and her weary
companions made it safely to Missouri. She asked for information
about any wagon trains heading west. She was told she’d have to
have a Conestoga wagon, good horses or oxen, whichever she
preferred. She asked where she could purchase a covered wagon and a
team of horses. She was directed to a blacksmith, whom informed her
that a young couple had changed their minds and a wagon was already
completely supplied with all she needed for the trip. But the
travel here had taken almost all her father’s cash.

“I seem to be short on funds,” her eyes
misted. It was a hard decision but she had to consider parting with
her mother’s things. Biting her lips, trying not to cry her hands
trembled as she held out an expensive diamond necklace. “Would you
accept this in payment?” Her hand trembled.

The black man asked, “Are yo’ al’right?”

“Yes,” she lied.

“Sorry,” the blacksmith shook his head. “Ah
have no use fo’ jewels but teks ‘em t’ Mr. Karasick, de local
jeweler. Ah shor’ he’d buy ‘em from yo’. Ah promise not t’ sell de
outfit t’ anyone else.”

Melissa was able to sell all her mother’s
beautiful jewelry. The money was not half as

much as it was worth but she took Mr.
Karasick’s offer. It would have to suffice. After paying for the
team and wagon, she had only a small sum left. Feeling unsettled,
she prayed it would be enough to get a new start in California.

Caravan wagons stretched out and rolled
across the green carpet of grass toward the clear blue horizon.
“West ward ho!” shouted the wagon master and the sight made
Melissa’s breath catch in her throat. At first her oxen refused to
budge making Sam yell at the lazy beasts. She reached over and
pulled the reins as Sam swatted them with a stick on their thick
rumps. Slowly,

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they moved, and lowed in complaint. Being
the last to sign up, Melissa and her party were eating dust all day
and she must have swallowed a godly amount of small particles.

She and Sam took turns driving. When she was
relieved, she took naps, and then walked miles to get the kinks out
of her legs. Days stretched into weeks. Each night she thought she
could spit out a pound of dirt that had collected in her mouth and
throat. If she weren’t so hot and tired, she might have taken time
to enjoy the beautiful mountain ranges in the distance; she might
have seen a soft gray jack rabbit scurry into the brush, or paid
attention to the birds that freckled the clear blue sky.

Melissa was too caught up in her own grief
to enjoy the beauty. Effie told her that the nights were pretty
with stars creating a twinkling ceiling overhead. The haunting
sound of a coyote howling at the golden moon would be a delight to
see if her heart wasn’t heavy with grief. She missed the enjoyment
of all the earth’s beauty tending to her sister at night and
keeping her party safe and comfortable during the day.

Daphne moved through the days looking as if
she were a zombie; it was like taking care of a small child. Her
sister had to be fed, washed and led around by the hand. The girl’s
vacant eyes sometimes followed sounds but she never responded to
anything. A lot of responsibility was on Melissa’s shoulders.

23

SEVEN

The day was hot when Melissa picked up he
mother’s hand mirror. A tear drop splashed on to her reflection.
Her fair skin had turned golden brown; no more peaches and cream
complexion for her. Sam said her honey eyes seemed richer in color
and her wheat-colored hair became much lighter, like soft silken
threads spun by moonbeams. Although Melissa donned a bonnet to
cover her hair, she left her head uncovered in the early morning
hours. She was used to the freedom of her flowing tresses and
treated herself to that luxury before the sun grew too hot.
Freckles dotted her up-turned nose and round cheeks. Her father
claimed it added an innocent look to her features. In her heart,
she knew she was no longer the naive girl she was just as short
time ago.

That day, by a lake, Melissa made friends
with the woman riding two wagons ahead. They were collecting water
to fill wooden barrels that were tied to the side of the wagon. It
was for drinking and cooking only, so it was a rare delight when
they came upon a stream or a pond to bathe. The men and women would
take turns bathing, something Melissa missed everyday. She wanted
so to be home in her rose-scented tub and never realized, until
now, what a treat a bath could be.

She scooped up her last pail of water when a
woman nearby turned and said, “Hi, I’m

Vida Adams.” She extended her warm hand to
Melissa. “I see you keep pretty much to yourself. At night, when we
all gather around the camp fire to talk or hear Mr. Wilson play his
fiddle, I noticed you don’t join us. I don’t like to appear nosy
but is there a reason you keep to yourself?”

Melissa nodded and shook the hand offered to
her. The middle-aged woman had a strong grip telling her that Vida
was of strong character. She squeeze back but wasn’t sure if she
liked being asked such personal questions even though Vida looked
sincere and truly concerned. Feeling Vida’s callused hand when they
shook, she decided she liked the friendly woman.

Vida was slightly plump with a comely face.
Her dull brown hair was tied tightly into a bun at the nape of her
neck, making her look matronly and her dark eyes sparkled with
flakes of

24

gold. Besides the callused hand, deep lines
around Vida’s mouth and eyes told Melissa that the woman had a hard
life. She wondered if Vida noticed her smooth hands. It was the
first time she experienced some guilt for having an easy life,
until now.

She walked back to the wagons with Vida.
Although, Vida did most of the talking, mostly gossip from other
women, Melissa was glad she found a friend. The only person she
could speak with was Effie, and lately she took to mumbling about
being scalped in their sleep by red-skinned devils. Vida made
Melissa feel comfortable in her presence and she decided to confide
in her a little.

“The reason I don’t mingle with the others,”
Melissa said, laying her pail on the ground and wiping her brow
with the back of her hand, “is because I do not care to leave my
younger

Si…err, brother alone.”

She avoided Vida’s eyes, feeling ashamed
about what happened to Daphne. Looking at

her broken fingernails, wondering if they
would ever grow back again, she it her lip. What a thing to worry
about she scolded herself.. “He’s mute,” she whispered softly,
unconsciously she was still examining her hand. “David isn’t
completely alone but he trembles whenever I leave his side. I’ve
been his only guardian since my parents died.” She winced at her
last remark but decided that she told Vida just enough.

“Oh, what a shame you can’t join the fun.”
The nice woman stretched her spine. “My back aches unmercifully
lately and every muscle cries for a good rub. I chalk it up to old
age,” she admitted. “We work so hard traveling these dusty trails
that a little relaxation and fun is good for the soul,” she
added.