In my fear of the slave hunters, I had forgotten my fear of riding.
That was a grave error.
“Shoot ‘im again! Shoot ‘im!!”
As I looked back at that bear, its terrible face lifted to the sky, my grip on old Mary’s mane slipped a little. I let go with my right hand, reaching down as I turned my head back, feeling for the reins. More shots rang out, and I jumped, losing the right rein I had just retrieved. I was barely managing to keep my seat, stretched over the pommel as I was.
Then I saw the log.
When I awoke, it seemed like days must have passed. Night had fallen, cold and still. The smell of pine needles and earth was mingled with a foul under taste. Blood. I lifted my head a little, and saw lightning bugs appear just above my eyes. Wait, that couldn’t be right. It was too cold now, for lightening bugs. I tried to get up, and immediately regretted it.
My aching body protested, the slightest movement producing a jolt of pain that yanked a whimper from my lips. As if in reply to that pained prayer, a sound like somebody sweeping dirt under the carpet came from beside me. Try as I might, though, I could not make my body turn over to see the source of that sound. I sighed in despair. Even that hurt.
“Dear Lord, please let me go.”
It was the only prayer I could make. But it was not the Good Lord who answered me. Instead, I felt a familiar muzzle nudging my shoulder, just as a strange sounding bird made a double cry. I felt a shuffling against my left arm, and then the fall of four hooves stepping over me just as gently as could be, touching the ground inches away from my chilled limbs. That muzzle lowered itself back to my head, breathing into my face as I’d gotten used to old Mary doing.
That strange bird called again, closer this time, and I began to worry, alone out here in these woods. I had tried once to be still like a rock, and look at me. Instead of being like a rock, I appeared to have hit my head on one. Not exactly walking by faith. Even worse, I’d got old Mary here into danger along with me. Anna would not be happy with me. But right now, that was the least of my troubles, for she was not here. In point of fact, I didn’t even know where here might be. My dear guide Anna could navigate these woods in surety, I could not.
And now, we’d gone and gotten separated.
This is the continuation scene in my new series Ann&Anna. I hope that this series will move you to learn more ways to help use our history to build new tools.
I look forward to your thoughts.
1.) Share your thoughts on how this story may encourage empathy-building cooperation, and might help, or hinder, inclusive thinking.
2.) Write a story, post or tweet that uses those thoughts.
Dear Readers, ideas on learning, especially multiple #LanguageLearning, on-going education and empathy-building, to #EndPoverty, #EndHomelessness, #EndMoneyBail & achieve freedom for All HumanKind?
Support our key #PublicDomainInfrastructure & #StopSmoking at least for CCOVID-19:
2. #ProBono legal aid and Education,
3. #UniversalHealthCare, and
4. good #publictransport
-we can learn from the past Stayed on Freedom’s Call for free,
by Teaching and Learning (Lesson Plans offline) in the present, to
We can Do Better: a Vision of a Better World to create a kinder future
Shira Destinie A. Jones, MPhil, MAT, BSCS
the year, 2021 CE = year 12021 HE
( 5 month GED lesson 17 of 67 plans…),
Stayed on Freedom’s Call
includes two ‘imagination-rich’ walking tours, with songs, of Washington, DC. New interviews and research are woven into stories of old struggles shared by both the Jewish and African-American communities in the capital city.
Shared histories are explored from a new perspective of cultural parallels and parallel institution-building which brought the two communities together culturally and historically.
Please leave a review, if you can, on the GoodReads page.
Shira Destinie Jones is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.