It Should Have Been Me
A lone figure stood, worn wide brimmed hat in callused hands, salt and pepper head bowed in grief. It was a dreary day befitting a funeral. Dark thunderous clouds filled the sky, their engorged bellies threatening to let loose a torrent of rain down upon the stooped shoulders of the grief stricken man standing before a freshly dug grave.
William Tompkins was not a man who handled any kind of emotions well, especially not pain and sorrow. He was a hard man who had lived far too long in a world full of bitterness, anger, and hatred. He had not always been so hardened or bitter. Once upon a time, he had been a happy, loving man with a beautiful wife and adorable daughter.
Then one summer day, sixteen years ago, his whole world had tumbled down around him. While he was away on a hunting trip, an Indian war party had raided his home, burned everything he owned to the ground, and stolen his wife and young daughter away from him. He had searched high and low for them for many months before he finally came to the realization that his family was lost to him forever. Their loss was astronomical.
He had gone on without them, but he was never the same again. He had locked away the memories of his wife and daughter in his head, and vowed to never let them out again. His heart had grown cold, hard, and hate filled. Long time friends and neighbors faded away do to his unwillingness to talk about his wife and daughter, and his inability to let anyone get close again.
Three days ago his life had turned upside down again when Sally and Jennifer had climbed down from a wagon seat. They had been part of a group of white women and children who had been abducted from their homes and families in the area, and were freed by the Army to return to their loved ones finally.
He should have been thankful to have his wife and daughter back again, but all he could see was red. His hatred for all Indians, and knowledge that his wife had willingly given herself to a brave in order for her and Jennifer to survive captivity, and had given birth to a half breed son, had further intensified.
Sally had fled from him and his hatred. She had gone back to the Indian village because he could not accept what she had done to survive, or her young son. To make matters worse, his own daughter had treated him as if he was the enemy, and had defiantly insisted that he call her by her Indian name, Eagle Feathers, instead of her given one.
Too late he had realized what a fool he was for letting Sally go. He had ridden out after her only to come across Jennifer and Buck Cross, a Pony Express rider, coming back to town with Sally's body in the back of a wagon. Jennifer told him of how her mother had sacrificed her life to protect her before they made the solemn journey back to town.
Tompkins twirled the hat in his hands as he tried to find the words his jumbled thoughts wanted him to say. "It should have been me, Sally. I'm the one who should be lying in the cold dark ground, and not you. I could not see past my own hatred for the Indians who took you and Jennifer from me so long ago. I should have been grateful that you had finally been found after all of these years and that you were back in my life again. I have never stopped loving you and I will be forever sorry that I didn't just take you into my arms and hold you close. I love you and I will live on in my heart and in my memories. Please forgive me, my darling, and I hope when it is time for me to pass on, that you will be waiting on the other side to welcome me into your arms."
Tears fell freely down the wizened features, mixing with the moisture splashing down upon him now, as the clouds above opened up and large drops fell upon his head and shoulders. He wept for all the years that he had missed of Jennifer growing up, and of him and Sally loving each other. He wept for his foolishness in letting his anger, bitterness, and hatred get in the way of reclaiming his family. He wept most of all at the possibility that even though he now knew that Jennifer was alive, that too much time had passed for them to ever be truly father and daughter. He wept until he was spent, but his grief was still palpable. He did not expect it to ease up any time soon.
He stood before the grave for a few minutes more, as he worked to gain control over his turbulent emotions. When had regained his composure at last, Tompkins placed his hat back onto his sopping head, and said,
"Rest easy honey,"
He turned and walked slowly across the saddened ground toward the exit of the cemetery, his heart was heavy, and his thoughts reflective. He did not know what the future held for him and Jennifer, but he made a solemn vow to try and get close to his daughter. After all, she was all he had now, and whether or not he succeeded in closing the chasm that held them apart, he owed it to Sally to at least try. He only hoped that Jennifer would meet him half way.