The Spirit of Silence

Chapter 1

"When a man is denied the right to live the life he believes in, he has no choice but to become an outlaw." -Nelson Mandela

           

They are in the house.

The unmistakable sound of leather boots clapping against the wooden floors downstairs jars me from my sleep.

I bolt upright, panicked. Where is Noah?

To my right he sneezes. I sigh in relief, sweeping my napping son into my arms. 

We have seconds, maybe a minute, before they are upstairs. But I am prepared for this.

I slide off the bed and run to the closet, burying myself in the back. Quickly, I remove the wooden panel hidden behind a rack of clothes and crouch in the small opening behind it, moving the panel back in front of us. My hands are shaking. One gently covers Noah's mouth, the other strokes his hair, willing him to stay asleep.

The heavy footsteps grow louder and I know they are in my bedroom. I hold my breath, knowing that any move I make will either alert the intruders or wake Noah.

And then we wait.

I hear my drawers being emptied, cabinets being searched, and bed sheets being ripped apart. I don't care. None of it means anything to me, until I hear glass shattering and I know it's the pictures.

I should have put them away yesterday, I scold myself while silently hoping they weren't paying much attention to the small family within the frames.

The closet door opens, sending rays of light into our little hiding place. I hold my breath again. They search the clothes, pulling the racks from the walls and tearing through each pocket. There is nothing there for them to find, which eases my mind. We began hiding anything they might be looking for weeks ago.

Noah stirs, but is still sleeping.

More light streams through the small cracks in the rectangular panel separating us from them and I know they are close. I hug my son tighter, pressing my lips to his forehead.

A car door slams shut from outside and it takes everything I have to refrain from gasping.

Liam is home.

Drive away, Liam. Please, get in your car and drive away. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping he somehow hears my thoughts.

He doesn't and, as I hear the front door open, the soldiers in my room empty out, even the one feet away from me.

Something slams into the ground downstairs and I do my best to cover my ears. No words are spoken, but replaced by scuffling and then silence.

Bile rises in my throat as my brain catches up. The house is quiet. Swallowing, I wait – praying to hear his comforting voice.

But I don't, and I know Liam is gone.

Noah and I are alone.

He takes a deep breath, bringing me back to reality. I'm prepared for this. Liam and I spent hours planning – especially for what we would do without him.

I wait in the crawl space until Noah wakes up a half an hour later. As soon as he does I place him on the bed, telling him to be quiet and wait for me. I'm especially thankful right now that he has always been a good listener. I grab my packed suitcase from behind the towels in the hall closet and then slide out Noah's and Liam's too. Each has our necessary clothes, extra shoes, toiletries, and excess medications. Running back to Noah's room I grab his favorite blanket, bear, and pacifier. I check to make sure his lotions and extra sippy cups, a few toys, and books are in there before zipping it up.