Magic

We always have Mother Earth ~ Why did the Constitution keep Slavery?

"Do you know what they're going to do?"

He asked after a moment of pause.

The soldier beside him turned toward him, a little surprised by the question. Nobody had questioned the colonists' intentions and ways. But he hid it well with a quick glance and again, he stared forward. He shrugged in response. His armor rubbed against him, making a sound as his shoulders raised for a second.

There was silence again.

The two men stared ahead, guns resting in their hands, leaning against their armor-covered chests. Caps were on their short buzzed hair that used to fall down their backs in long dreads. White trousers met with shiny black shoes. A white collared shirt buttoned up to their necks and wrapped around in a fancy fold at the top. Warm brown coats outlined their biceps and covered their chests. They were two strong black men, waiting outside the convention, staring out into the fields, standing on top of a green hill. It was a beautiful brisk day, quiet, silent. There was no need to guard. But there was. Maybe it was for the men inside discussing, maybe it was for the people, or maybe it was for themselves. For their own safety. They had the guns after all.

They continued to look forward, observing the hill underneath them, the crops that swayed afar, the blue sky above, and the two sighed simultaneously. But it wasn't a happy one, it was one of dread, as if waiting for the worst to come. They knew. Things were only going to go downhill from here.

"I'm going to marry my wife," the one that always kept the conversation rolling, through the tension, informed.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah!" he replied, but it didn't seem he was excited at all.

"She's a real beauty,"

"She really is." he nodded, "She really is," but it didn't seem he was settling in his own words.

The one to be married agreed with his partner but his eyes blank as he did so. Both of them. Silence reoccurred as they stared forward.

"I think we both know what's going on," the man who usually avoided conversing finally referred to the elephant on the hill.

He didn't respond.

"They're going to kill us." He closed his eyes and pursed his lips and then reopened them. The numbness that was expressed before showed a glisten in his black pupil this time. "But congrats on your wife." A quiet gulp replied. "To be."

His friend scoffed. A quick ha that broke the tension for a second, and the two shared the same shake of their head as a response. His eyes also burned with the feeling of tears but he closed them, forcing them to roll back down the throat. They were two strong men. They had to stand their stance and stay strong. Had to.

The wind blew, breezing by their legs, refreshing the skin underneath their baggy pants.

For a moment, an understanding of communication connected between the men and the earth. The universe was watching them. It was going to be okay. Even if it wasn't, they weren't alone. The wind whispered it. The grip on their guns loosened and they let themselves get swayed with the comfort of the world. The ground grounded them. Smiles reached their sad expressions.

'It's going to be okay' even without being said, they knew it to be true.

The two doors behind them banged open, white doors swinging behind the white men.

The grip on their weapons tightened once more, their jaw ticked and tightened stubbornly.

One breath in and they turned behind them, facing the Founding Fathers.