Ezra crouched, his arms wrapped around his thin middle. He shivered with cold and terror. He stifled his sobs, praying this time his uncle would pass out before he found him. He wedged his small frame deeper into the woodpile, wincing as the bark scratched his already bruised and battered body.
"Ezra, git yer fucking ass out here now boy!" The man bellowed. He ran the razor strap lovingly through his large hands. "You make me come in there to get ya, yer gonna regret it you ungrateful lil' pissant." He upended the bottle and took another swig of whiskey, shuddering as the rotgut burned all the way down. He held up the empty bottle and grinned fiercely, then threw the bottle at the woodpile and laughed as it exploded into a million shards.
Ezra jumped to his feet, dashing for the wood line. He pounded down the path desperately trying to stay in front of his tormenter, forcing air into tortured lungs hampered by cracked ribs sustained in the last beating. He screamed as his uncle grabbed him by the hair jerking him to a halt. Curling into a ball he desperately tried to protect his ribs as he was thrown the ground. His uncle kicked him, lashing his back and head with the razor strap. He screamed again as he felt the man's hands fumbling at his pants. Pushing himself to his knees he frantically tried to scramble away, to escape, but his uncle slammed his head into the ground, grinding his nose into the dirt until he could barely breath.
The man pushed him onto his belly holding him down with a knee in the small of his back. He dragged Ezra's pants down to his knees hobbling him and ran a heavy hand down his flank.
Ezra shuddered, nausea welling up in his gut. He squirmed trying to get away but his movement simply fueled the man's anger and he jerked Ezra's head up by his hair arching his back. He laughed as the boy's agonized cries echoed through the woods, but no one came to his rescue.
Tabitha snuck out of the shack and padded down the path toward the river. She watched warily making sure neither the master nor the overseer saw her. She knew she had to get to the child before he died of exposure. She winced when she saw the wreck the master had made of his young nephew. He had left the child sprawled in the path like a rag doll, beaten and bloodied in the aftermath of the brutal rape. She crouched down and gathered the boy up, lifting him with ease and carried him back to her hut. She put him into her bed and gently brushed his hair back. "Oh chile, ya just hang on now and mammy Tabitha take good care of ya." She tenderly bathed the battered frame and gentled the boy when he woke terrified and frantic. She wept at the despair she saw in his green eyes. "I know what yer thinking chile but yer wrong! There is another way out ifen ya have the courage to take it. Ifen ya take that way he wins. Ya don't want him to win do ya?" She smiled as he shook his head. "Sometime boy, the bravest thing ya can do is keep on livin. Now ya want to take that ride on the Underground Railroad or not?" She smiled in triumph as the boy squared his shoulders and a new defiant look flooded his eyes.
A month later Ezra stepped down from the wagon and glanced warily around. Seeing no sign of trouble he turned and helped Miss Tabitha down and spoke softly to her. "They said our next contact is at the blacksmith shop."
~~~~~~~7~~~~~~7~~~~~~~7~~~~~~~7~~~~~~~7~~~~~~~7~~~~~~
The subject matter made this one extremely difficult to write but Jessie was with me every keystroke and I am profoundly grateful for her friendship. She has made me stretch my skills and my courage as a writer and she doesn't let me get away with taking the easy road. Therefore this story is dedicated to her. Salute mon ami.
A special thank you to my betas DeckerM and Jessie. Ladies, your friendship and encouragement is a treasure worth far more than rubies.
Not mine, but the alphabet people didn't want them any more and in my opinion should be arrested for character neglect, so I am sneaking them out the back door to my place.
Feb. 11, 2011