Slingshot’s America: Freedom Calling

Three days later, Warren asked William to deliver a letter to the barn on the other side of town. “Leave it in the same place, and hurry back.” “I thought we weren’t going to risk any more messages for a while?” “It should be safe now that the King and Queen are gone.” William never met any of the intended recipients. His father had entrusted him with an important, discrete task, and he dared not ask any further questions. However, the letters weighed heavily on his mind. With the events of the celebration fresh in his memory, his curiosity was piqued. After leaving the envelope behind the wooden rack of tools, William slipped out the back door and looked around. When he spotted a nearby grove of trees with a perfect vantage point, the decision to spy felt made for him. Crouching and squeezing himself into the low-hanging branches of an evergreen, he sat silently, hoping to see who would come to retrieve the letter. After a short while, he saw a young, slightly balding man through the branches of needles. The man didn’t seem suspicious at first, but he disappeared into the barn as quickly as he’d appeared. Because William didn’t get a good look at him, he waited to see if he could catch a better glimpse when the man left with the delivered message. William’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard the clacking of hooves. Consciously fighting against his rising fear, he carefully maneuvered himself out of the branches. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw no one following and quickly headed for home safely through the deeper woods. He didn’t breathe a word to his father about what he’d seen or about his self-imposed reconnaissance mission, but he soon thought he should have. The end of March slipped into April, bringing with it gentle spring breezes and warming temperatures. William kept his head down more often, spooked by his close call. He went to school, helped his parents at home, and though he did deliver one other message, he didn’t stay to spy. On the evening of April fourth, the day before William’s fifteenth birthday, William heard the gallop of horses in the distance as he and his parents were finishing supper. The sound grew louder until it was clear they were right outside their home. William saw his parents looking at each other, faces lined with worry. Then came a hard knock on the door of their small shack. The frame and walls shook from the force. William dropped his fork, and it clattered on his empty plate.