Part 5 ~ Hare

[The Sound of the Firing Guns] Twelve different people, twelve different viewpoints. The thing that links them is one battle.

PART 5

All he knew about this horse was that its jaw wasn’t broken in two places, like the one he had been forced to hand over. It could have bucked him off and sent him falling forever into the dust if he forced it too hard over this unforgiving landscape and then he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to get up again. His throat was already aching and tiny spots of light were throbbing in front of his eyes transforming the mid-June blue sky into a Fourth of July parade. All he had to do was reach the lumbering pack train and speed it up.

The day was again him. The day was against all of them.

Over the hills, he could still hear yelling, screaming and shouting of the Indians, the cavalrymen, the horses and the guns. Hear them but not see them. If he closed his eyes, it was almost exactly the same. If he closed his eyes, it felt somewhat better.

The up and down motion of the horse reminded him of when he was a boy down in Texas. He felt the sticky heat of his hometown coming back to him and the sound of his mother’s voice calling to him from their little house in the desert.

‘’Luther! Luther!’’ she shouted to him. ‘’Your food is on the table!’’

He had always been looking for another excuse to spend one more minute outside. His father used to take him out on his horse and they would ride for miles through the dust and sometimes they wouldn’t even hear her shouting. He was suddenly three again and he could almost see the house, rippling and distorted through the haze. He smiled to himself, the aches and pains in his arms and legs being forgotten in favour for a trip back through the land where he was born.

He was riding with his father, further and further away from the family home. His mother was waving, a garden implement in her hand. She was endlessly proud of that little patch of land. The sun blazed a hole into the sky and there were birds soaring across it. He could hear them singing loudly, getting louder and louder. He lost himself in the strange song they were echoing over the plains as it began to surround him, rising then dipping and then rising again.

And this time, it didn’t stop.

It was too loud. Far too loud.

There were no birds in the sky. No birds ever sang around their house.

It wasn’t his father he was riding with. His arm was being grabbed so hard he could feel fresh blood dripping down his skin and no matter how hard he struggled, the painted warrior wouldn’t let him go.

His voice was his only weapon and his screams brought his mother running across the garden, trampling the vegetables back into the ground. It was a gun in her hand now and she shot across the desert, screaming to let her boy go.

The horse he was on jerked and he began to fall, the dust of Texas rising to his lungs. He gasped, trying to get his breath back, and suddenly, his eyes shot open again, the sound of the guns tearing him from one world back into reality.

The pack train whined in front of him as it was wrenched out of its comfort zone, wheels creaking under the sudden strain and the man at the front shouted. Luther’s horse screamed, rearing right up onto its hind legs and he grasped the reins until his knuckles were white, trying desperately to restrain it. Some of the horses before him echoed the movements.

It was only for a few seconds but in those few seconds, Luther saw the world trapped in chaos. Everything was going to fall apart. It got faster and faster in his eyes, more and more noises turning into a full yet out of tune orchestra drumming right into his ears, and he wanted to scream, his throat and mouth beginning to open just to make this stop.

But suddenly, it was over.

And he doubted if it had ever begun because for a moment, maybe two, everything was quiet. Quiet and still until someone’s voice �" it could have been his own �" came through.

‘’Okay, boys, let’s speed it up now! We got wounded on the hill! And heaven knows we’re getting more by the minute!’’

He didn’t know why he had said that.

And he also didn’t know why, as they pushed on up the hillside, he closed his eyes again.

Just for one more moment.