Chapter 6 – The Wait
He was at the market again. Colonel Williams found himself alone in the middle of the empty market, standing underneath a threatening sky. If he strained his ears, he could hear the faint scribbling of a pen and the soft rustle of money as Johnson tallied his day’s receipts. Williams stared at the empty platform on which so many people had sold their lives in the hope of freedom, only to find a slavery worse than they had already known.
Presently, Johnson emerged from his lair, whistling softly to himself, a bank bag under one arm and a revolver strapped to his side.
“Colonel Williams,” he said, “I’m surprised to see you here. Is there something I can do for you?”
Williams looked over to Johnson. As he did, his eyes saw the gun strapped to Johnson’s side. The scene abruptly changed. Williams now stood in a noisy crowd of people. Up on the platform stood the same young man Williams had seen in court during the day.
“Look out, Bill, he’s got a gun!” Keren’s voice screamed.
He heard the shot and felt himself being knocked to the ground. The shock of his collision with the ground awakened him. Once again, he was in his room at Providence.
The first rays of sunlight were shyly peeking over the horizon and into Williams’ bedroom. They cast a pale, yellow glow throughout the room, shining brightest on a portrait of Keren that was painted only a few months before her death. In the distance, Williams could hear the wind faintly rustling through the trees and the birds breaking forth in joyful song to welcome the dawn. The world was awake, and, ready or not, it was time for him to be, too.
He did not want to get up, not at first. The dream had driven his thoughts back again to the incident at the market, and he at first forgot that the even was long past. Slowly, however, the memory faded into the dull shadows of the past. With a silent prayer for help, he arose and began his day.
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