"Where are we going, papa?" The voice of an eight year old rang in the captain's quarters opf a massive ship. Arthur Kirkland smiled at the boy and replied kindly.
"We are going to America. You're new home!"
"Oh boy, I can't wait to get there!" Arthur chuckled softly and smiled.
"We'll be there soon, Alfred."
The ship slowly came to a halt as it over looked a sand covered beach. The beach ended in fine, green, grass that eventually bled into a pine, deciduous forest. The sent of salt and pine flourished in the air, as light as the cabbage butterflies in the gardens back home in england.
"Oh, daddy, it's beautiful!" Alfred stood on his toes, leaning over the bow of the ship to admire the gracious beauty of the land that behold him.
"I knew you'd like it," his father nodded, "Let's get you to your knew camp- I mean home!" The joy in Alfred's voice seemed to overflow and wash over the ship like a barrel of ale had been shot, letting the contents spill over deck.
As the boy with blond hair followed his father, he requested he could remove his shoes. After being granted his wish, Alfred's feet sank in the damp sand, leaving foot prints behind him. They were so much smaller and so much more figured than Arthur's boots.
The sand underfoot was cool and felt surprisingly good under the small boy's feet. After walking for a good twenty minutes, a large fence made from trunks of pine trees, sharpened to a fine point. Like they were trying to keep something, or someone, out.
The camp was filled with marching men and rifles laying around as if they were the sticks that Alfred had used to play "Armada" with his younger brother, Matthew that had been sent away to his new home, some place called Canada.
Arthur was greeted at the gate, too. By this tall man with long blond hair, pulled into a ponytail and was carrying a rifle like all the other men. He have a warm smile at Alfred and removed his hat as if the boy was some sort of king that Arthur had told him about in his adventures of India.
Suddenly a scream halted everyone in the camp. "What's that, papa?" Alfred said, clinging to his guardian, scared for his life.
The blond man who had greeted him spoke, "Bobcat. Mangy old feline." He huffed at the large mountain in the distance. Still wondering what a "Bobcat" was, Alfred followed his father into a tent at the center of camp. Inside, smoke from a man's cigar hung in the air like a fog over the sea and strangled the boy's throat like a piece of wire.
"Ah, Arthur. Have you brought the young one?"
"Yes. As I said I would."
"Greetings, lad. The name's Fredrick. Fred for short." Alfred bowed his head and greeted the man at the deck with a cigar hanging out of his mouth.
"Hello, Fred." the boy croaked out. A small chuckle came from Fred as he burn the cigar out on the desk's nearest corner. The man got up from his seat and lumbered over to Alfred, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Allow me to show you to your tent."
The tent wan't too small, for a child, and it was rather cozy. Much like his room he had to share with Matthew. It had a small makeshift bed and a desk. On the desk, sat a candle of the color red. The melting wax looked like the blood that leaked out of his wounds whenever he'd fall down and scrape his knee or elbow. Alfred was always a clumsy child.
"It looks good!" the blond child said, admiring his tent. Just then, all the men outside started to yell. Startled, Alfred turned and ran out of the tent. Everyone was in a fuss about this person on the hill over looking the camp. On it, was a young woman who had tan skin and dark hair.
"Get away from here, savage!" yelled Fred, waving his hands around. It wasn't until a gun was fired into the air had she quickly ran back behind the hill.
"Who was that?" Alfred asked, staring at his father.
"A savage race of people called "Indians" because when we were trying to find a trade route to India, we found this place and thought it was India." explained his papa, making a serious face. Savage? There was a savage race of people living just across the hill? The thought made the young boy shiver. No more thinking for today. Or rather tonight, seeing as the sun is just barely peaking above the horizon in the west.
The sky put on a show that it had never done before in England. It danced with fire and red light shone before it all fell a deep blue. The sky was illuminated by many stars. Alfred had to admit, he did like the sunset of his new home. Alfred lay in his bed, constantly rolling around in discomfort. How could there be savages in this perfect place? Thought the boy, closing his eyes. Before he knew it he was fast asleep, dreaming of what he thought a bobcat looked like.
How'd you like this chapter? Please review and give me as much criticism as you want! I'm open for it!^^
