Men!

Speak Not Child

 I asked my grandmother was she tired and she said no. She then reached for her remote and began looking for her TV shows.

    It was 2 o'clock in the morning and we both laughed at how fast time had passed. One minute we were talking and then we were wondering where time went. Because all her shows were off and just the info commercials were on.  

    Showing her tiredness we both headed for bed with my grandmother telling me to leave the garments on the sofa.

    My grandmother always has night clothes for company or unplanned visit. So by the time I got ready for bed I was ready. I laid my head back on the pillow and then couldn't close my eyes.

    My mind started to wonder about the words and the language my grandmother was speaking while she was in a trance or what was that?

    Yea, that's right I can't sleep. And for some reason this is the time in the morning that my wattpad family starts messaging and posting. And there she is now, my friend Sea, and she has post a story.

    It's another upload for Ruby and Buck, well, there's no sleeping now. I guess I should explain. You see the wattpad is an online place where book writers and poets can come and share their stories and poetry's

    The reader's get a chance to read stories that are being created and leave comments, better if nice comments, as though its payment.

    Well, if you don't get it maybe you should try it. But I know everybody doesn't love to read. So choose your dare.

    I get up hoping there's still coffee in the pot, take my phone and plug to the living room. Oh yea, more pound cake and I prepare myself for my read.

     As I sat beside the garments I place a pillow to rest my feet. With the coffee table close I place my cake and fork so I can dip my cake. I know this sound like a lot for a guy to go through for a read, but it's what I do.

    I know that my mind is going to be pleased to its fullest so I go for the last step; arm position. And as I move my arms to that lazy sag I see the garments. I want to touch them, so I place down my phone and start to open one of the bags.

    The garments are sealed by a zipper that is covered by tape, and if I had not seen my grandmother open them, I probably would have cut in to the plastic. Pulling back the zipper I sense the smell of an earthly, yet human musk, which was pleasant.

    The color was in tack, giving a glow of newness, but how could that be with a garment so old. I reached in to feel and heard something so I looked around, the sound shook my spirit and as I reached to touch the wooden center piece I heard a scream and I jump and knocked my phone off the table.

    I stood and walked to the front door and peaked out the window, it was very quiet and peaceful outside. The park just across the street was a land once given in remembrance of the Indians and their church, a very beautiful place.

    I go back to the garment to look and feel and don’t know why but there’s something about this. Why does my grandmother keep such care and yet hide these beautiful Indian garments. I try to pull the garment out and I heard a scream so loud it felt like it came from me.

    And I was running and gasping for air, my mind said wait, but my body kept running. My thoughts said you’re dreaming, but the sounds of yells and screams convinced me to keep running. I forced myself to look up and all I could see was blue sky and as I looked down I seen the ground and grass as my feet were moving as fast as I could go.

    I looked to my side and seen a small child and another child beside him both running. Then I heard the sounds of horses galloping as though they were coming down on us. I looked to my other side and there was a woman carrying a small child running and screaming the word run.

    Then I heard the loud bang of gun fire that shook my soul with a man yelling, “Die you savages!” I wanted to stop. I wanted to look at the man who said that. And all of a sudden the Indian maiden grabbed me and threw me behind a tree, then turned to the men on their horses and screamed out, “What kind of man would kill a child? What kind of man would kill a weaponless woman? What kind of men are you?”

    The men had fully circled us and were aiming their guns and yelled, “I don’t know what this savage is saying, but we were told to kill them and I always do my job.” At that moment the man pointed and fired his gun and I watched as the bullet rushed through me.

    Daniel is you OK? I’m making a late breakfast if you’re hungry. Was your bed not comfortable? I look around and seen I was on the floor, I started to cough and moan to maybe bring out some sound to answer my grandmother, “Oh yea, some coffee and maybe toast.” Was all I could say?