When You Were Young

"Who are you to presume to know what God demands," Reverend Crane snapped. "He has charged us with purifying this heathen land so that we might establish his new kingdom here."

Rodney gestured to the wrecked ship on the rock. "We have already buried one hundred of our fellow Englishmen since arriving here. I will not bury any more." His eyes met Prudence's with a look of pain and sadness before he turned to the older men he had been standing with. "If anyone must risk his life, then let it be I. I will go to the savage village and attempt to negotiate a peace with them. If I am unsuccessful, then you may follow Reverend Crane's plan."

"No!" Prudence said, but she could not be heard over the din of the other settlers.

One of the elders silenced the crowd. "It will be as you say, Mr. Gooddell. In three days hence, you and whoever chooses to accompany you will attempt to establish relations with these savages. If you fail, then we will take up arms."

The circle began to disintegrate as the meeting concluded. Reverend Crane stood where he was, his face red with rage. Rodney looked down at the sand, resigned to his fate. Prudence rushed into his arms, throwing her arms around him. "You can't do this," she said.

"I must," he said. "For you and everyone else here."

"No. We can go somewhere else. We don't have to stay here. We'll find a way to go home. Please, I can't lose you."

He stroked her hair and smiled. "There's nothing to fear, my darling. Everything will work out. Have faith." She collapsed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. He held her there on the beach long after everyone else departed.

***

After two days of waiting for his opportunity, Wendell finally seized his chance to run away. Mr. Pendleton had treated him like a prisoner during this time, forcing him to labor from dawn to dusk and then chaining him up in a lean-to for the night. He allowed Wendell a few scraps of food and water with the benediction, "This is more than you deserve, you foul sewer rat."

At night, Wendell examined the handcuffs in the moonlight coming through cracks in the lean-to walls. He had nothing to pick the lock with, but found the cuffs loose on his narrow wrists. By working his wrists back and forth, he finally managed to slip them free. This left his wrists bloody and raw, but the pain was worth it for freedom. He tore bandages from his clothes to conceal the bleeding and then slipped back into the cuffs, waiting for his strength to return before attempting his escape.