Free Billy Green Saves the Day by Ben Guyatt Page B

least it will be on my terms.” Billy extended his hand. “Trust me, Pa.”
    â€œAll right. You warn Keziah and Isaac and then come right back. Understand?” Adam shook his son’s hand. As Billy ran out of the barn, his father watched him go, full of apprehension. “Good luck, son.”
    In front of Isaac’s house an American sentry yawned, then spat at a fly on the porch railing. Inside, Keziah sat at the kitchen table, gazing woefully at the floor. A young U.S. soldier watched her with genuine concern. “Try not to worry. They won’t harm your husband.”
    â€œI know you’re just saying that, but thank you,” she said, managing a half smile. The soldier shifted uncomfortably and was clearly weary. “Would you like to sit down?”
    He tipped his hat. “I better not, ma’am.”
    Keziah motioned to a freshly baked pie on the windowsill. “How about something to eat?”
    The soldier hungrily eyed the pie and wet his lips. “No, thank you. Like I said, I don’t think I should sit down.”
    Keziah retrieved a plate, cut a thick slice, poured a glass of milk, and presented him with the snack. “Then you’ll just have to eat standing up.” The youngster glanced out the door. “An empty stomach is an empty stomach no matter who you’re fighting for,” she told him.
    The soldier set his musket aside and feverishly began to eat.
    â€œHow old are you?” Keziah asked, returning to her chair.
    â€œFourteen, ma’am,” he said with his mouth full.
    â€œWhere are you from?”
    â€œVirginia.”
    â€œFamily?”
    â€œYes, ma’am. My parents and two sisters.” He washed down the last bite with the milk.
    â€œDo you have a girlfriend?
    The soldier blushed. “No, ma’am.”
    â€œA handsome lad like you?” she said, laughing slightly at his boyish charm. “Do you like being in the army?
    â€œNo, I wanted to be a lawyer, but I was conscripted. I hate the army. I hate this stupid war.” He handed her the plate and glass. “Thank you for the food, ma’am.”
    Suddenly, there was a heavy thud, and the youth’s face contorted. The Yankee drew a breath as a line of blood dribbled from his mouth. He took one step forward and collapsed into her arms, an arrow buried in his back. Horrified, Keziah gently lowered him to the floor.
    Outside the house the other U.S. soldier, having heard the noise, scrambled around the corner of the home but was met with an arrow piercing his chest. He tried to remove the projectile, but then another arrow slammed into his thigh. The soldier let out a loud cry as several Indians converged upon him with their knives raised.
    Inside, Keziah cradled the young soldier’s head in her lap and rocked him as he quietly wept for his life. With moistened eyes she watched as he convulsed for a moment and then went limp. After a few seconds, she looked up to discover an Indian standing in the doorway. “He was just a boy!” Keziah shouted, and stood. She began pounding the Indian’s chest with her fists. “He wasn’t a soldier! He was just a boy!” Keziah ran out of the house where more Indians surrounded her. She fell to the ground and buried her head in her hands. Then a hand reached down and stroked her hair. When she glanced up, she saw Billy.
    â€œIt’s all right, Keziah. It’s all right,” he said as Keziah embraced him.
    â€œThey took Isaac! They took him away!”
    Billy held her tightly. “I’ll find him. I promise.”
    At Burlington Heights a British infantryman wiped away a tear of laughter as he watched another soldier lift his mud-plastered face out of the muck. Dozens of Crown regulars toiled to create more earthworks — long, high ridges of wet soil to protect them in future battles.
    Several cannons were rolled into place overlooking the water as General Vincent and