The Sons of Liberty

Chapter 4

        Who was to say what was going to happen now? Boston was angry. It hadn't been an adult that had died. It was a little boy. Everyone knew that Hutchinson knew he was ruined at that point. He had called those men in in the first place. Now he would pay the price. The questions were: what was the price and how was he going to pay? These questions, as always, fell into the laps of Sam Adams, John Hancock, Paul Revere, and Joseph Warren.  Joe didn't want any part at first, Sam had known that. The kindly Doctor did not want to get involved in the radical politics of Boston until the boy had been killed. Now, it was as if Joe had taken it personally. Sam saw in his friend's eyes a sort of passion that hadn't been there before, and he quite liked to see it there.  Suddenly, there Joe was, right beside him and Hancock, and writing out wonderfully worded papers against Parliament and British oppression. Revere's silversmithing had come in handy, too. Everyone had their places, their missions and jobs crucial to the cause, and nothing was going to come without everyone doing their jobs. Nothing but revenge for the life of a young boy would quell the anger of the town.

        "They won't even try him here in Boston!" Sam slammed his mug onto the wooden table, sloshing warm beer across the rough wood. Revere hastily lifted his pamphlets off of the table to avoid the small wave of warm beer and Hancock slid back away as the beer cascaded over the side of the table. "Damn that Hutchinson!"

        Hancock sighed and looked down at his breeches in resignation as he attempted to wipe the beer off of them. "Well, whatever you plan to do, please don't ruin my breeches while you are doing it!"

        Revere situated himself in his chair and gave his head a scratch, "Well, what are we going to do about it? If we riot, Hutchinson is just going to send in his men to put us down just like he has every other time we've done this."He placed his papers in his lap and looked back over at Sam, "Listen, Sam, I know that you're upset, but we don't need to be rash about this."

        Sam smiled, "Look at you. You sound like Joe."

        Revere shrugged and leaned back in his chair with a grin, "He is one of my good friends, Sam." And Sam could not argue that. Sam and Revere may have been friends, but Revere and Joe were a special pair.  They made quite the pair when they were together, those two. They could stir a crowd with ease and they were as loyal to each other as anyone could be. It was a good thing, really. Strong ties were important in the business of group induced treason.

        Hancock looked up from brushing off his breeches and looked around, "Speaking of Joe, where is he?"

        Sure enough, the ever busy Doctor Warren was absent from the table. He had said that he would arrive late, but now almost two hours had passed since they had decided upon meeting and he was nowhere to be seen. Joe was finishing up a patient at his home while Sam, Revere, and Hancock began discussing the plan for Hutchinson and his soldiers. His sons and daughters slept soundly in their beds and he knew his wife was up and waiting for him. He gave his patient some sedatives and sent him on his way, removing his apron with a tired breath. He still had to go and at least talk with Sam. He had already missed two other meetings with him and he knew that Sam was only getting more and more upset with each passing day that nothing was being done to curb what Sam believed to be rampant injustice. He reached for his coat and began to unroll his sleeves as he heard the soft pat of bare feet on the wooden floor. He glanced over his shoulder and froze as he saw Elizabeth, wrapped tightly in a blanket with her arms crossed over her chest, staring at him with a furrowed brow and a hard-set mouth. "Where in the hell are you going this time of night?"

        He blinked at her and almost forgot where it was he needed to go. Her sudden and frightful appearance made him second guess if he should actually join them at the tavern or not, "I was... Sam, Paul, and John were all meeting..."