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A Heart Made Hatchet -1

I've never seen a baby so merry as Martha...
They say March newborns are bellwethers for blissful Springs Mary...
Hannah, Haverhill has been a hard place to call home
I'm sorry about Elizabeth's hanging, 
Thomas has honored you with every ounce of his heart, 
eight of your children have survived the birth storm...
Mary, I'm grateful for your gritty grace, 
you've become the sister to me 
that Elizabeth can no longer be,
we have the seed, the soil and the sun
nothing will eradicate the community we've begun...
Your husband has been a careful constable, 
he's kept families fair and the Iroquois honest
even the wampum and rum traders give him tribute...
Thomas knows how to hold fire
and how to hear hearts...
Well, I hope that you haven't forgotten
how to hold the cows and churn the butter
because your children can gobble like gremlin goats...
Ha, my soul aches for farm ways
and my body prays for how it pays...
Good, it's been six days since Martha's delivery, 
and we need to get you movin
like a swan on a smooth pond...

Do you see how the water pools
in the east field like a widow's teary eye
we can transfer loam from the west
along wih fireplace ash and make it suitable for legumes, 
I wanna kettle at least 500 bricks
from the ditch clay by early May...
Dad! Dad!
painted tawnies are in the tree line!...
Christ!, grab Abygail and Christi
and run to the blockhouse!  run! run goddamnit!!!,
Jacob get the barn axe and use a barrel cover for a shield, 
go with them now! run!!,
I'll catchup with the horse and cover the road
once I fetch your Mother, Go now!!!...

Hannah, Mary, tawnies are on the warpath
get up!...
Thomas we won't make it together, 
oh my God, I can barely move,
use the gun and horse to protect the children...
I can't, I ca...
You need to go now Tom!!! Go!...
Stay alive Love, stay alive...

Put the knives down Mary
but keep them close by,
we have a better chance of being hostages
if we're unarmed...
Oh my God Hannah, 
you've heard the stories of other raids, 
the captivity, the cruelty...
If we stay smart and unemotional
then they'll see us as objects of trade
rather than animals or threats, 
baby Martha may save us Mary...

Where's the muskets, powder!!! Where!,
where's the lead and liquor you white witches!  Where!...
Akando put the tomahawk down...
These white women lie,
they have more than cornmeal and blankets...
They'll be worth their weight in lead and powder
to the French or Mohawk, 
let's get this village fated
and move out like sparks from fire...

Listen up English!,
we need to reach blue creek by sundown, 
we're going to butcher anyone who slows us down, 
we can't allow your weakness and whining
to be a wind against us,
you keep up or you get ripped up...

Hannah that Indian
with the black and white dotted face
keeps menacing me and the baby, 
it's the same bastard that scalped James,
my feet and hands are numb as stone...
We've gotta keep movin, just keep movin Mary
and keep Martha quiet, keep her close and quiet, 
the snow is cutting my toes...

No, no! oh my God you god damned savage
what are you doing let go, No...
Mary no, don't let him take her...
Back off white witch,
too much noise this white rat makes...

smack...smack...smack...
tree makes baby sleep for good, haw!...

You killed my baby...you Killed my baby.....you killed my baby.......

J.A.B.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Date: 12/22/2017 9:04:00 PM
Poor Martha, born in March.. <3 Oh, such a traumatic event! Well done, Justin, you really know how to put the reader into the story...reading on! Always, Laura
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Justin Bordner
Date: 12/28/2017 6:53:00 PM
There exists an instinct for telling a story Laura, there is no escaping that fact, but the pedagogical academics and impatient will rarely understand this truth...J.A.B.