Ike sighed in frustration, repeating the signs slower. “I’m sorry Ike, I don’t understand.” Jimmy shook his head. He had two days until the one person who understood him more often that not would be back from his run. Two long days among people who were just beginning to learn the signs that Buck had taught him years before, giving him a voice once again. The worst part was that he was alone for the next few hours with Jimmy and they were supposed to be fixing a hole in the barn roof while Teaspoon and the others went into town for supplies. At least with the others he could write when signs failed him. But when he had tried that, Jimmy just looked at the paper with the same confused look he was giving him now. Ike realized that he couldn’t read and the scowl on Jimmy’s face easily conveyed how unhappy he was to have that fact exposed. Ike tried again, jabbing his finger into Jimmy’s chest and then pointing at the one piece of lumber that needed to be cut first. “I know how to fix a roof Ike.” Jimmy muttered. It was hard to keep the annoyance from his face but he knew that Jimmy had a short temper. In the few weeks since they had all joined the Pony Express, they’d all seen plenty of evidence of that. If he got mad enough, Ike would be working on the roof all by himself or nursing a sore jaw depending on how things went. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Ike waved Jimmy to the wood. The way he was going about it would take them longer and would mean more work but he standing there arguing with someone who didn’t understand a thing he was saying wasn’t going to make the job go any faster either. Five hours later they stood on the ground surveying their work. “Looks good to me.” Jimmy looked to Ike for confirmation. All he got was a shrug. “What?” He asked testily. Ike merely waved him off with a good natured smile that he didn’t really feel. Picking up the ladder, he went into the barn to put it away. Jimmy followed with the hammers and nails. “I’m gonna go get some sleep. I got a run in the morning.” Nodding, Ike went to spend some time with his favorite animal. Sampson didn’t need any words to understand him. The sometimes obstinate donkey met his hand with an eager nudge, searching his pockets for a treat. Not that he had one, but he promised to make up for it later. Sampson understood that too; he merely enjoyed attention that he was getting. Tired from going up and down the ladder far more times than he should have had too, Ike sat down on a bale of hay. The barn was his favorite place. Full of animals that didn’t need words, he felt comfortable there; much more so that he did around people. People wanted to talk to him. He always dreaded the horribly uncomfortable moments it took for them to realize that he couldn’t answer and the inevitable looks of pity or outright dismal. Ike dearly wanted to talk back. He could remember his voice, yelling his sister to go stop picking on him, begging his mother to tell him just one more story at bedtime or pleading with his father to teach him how to shoot the gun he wore. If he closed his eyes, he could hear it but no matter how hard he tried, sound refused to come from his lips. Ike sat with his back against the rough wall of the barn, lost in misery that no one else seemed to understand. Buck tried and his gift of sign had offered some relief. Some freedom from being locked inside himself, misunderstood by the nuns and ridiculed by the other children at the mission where he had grown up. Buck had saved him then but he wasn’t here now. When they had agreed between them to take this job with the Pony Express, it had been Buck’s words that had assured their boss that he could do the work. Buck had helped those he worked beside understand what he was trying to say with his hands. Ike was grateful for the help of his friend but yet, he sorely missed being able to interact with people on his own. Especially girls now that he was older. Old enough that he could have easily been courting someone if his life hadn’t gone completely awry the day Nicholson and his men had killed his family. Ike felt his throat tighten as the memory of that nightmarish day washed over him. He had been hiding. Hiding from his mother in the shed where he could hear her yelling his name in a tone that did not bode well for his backside. He hunkered lower in the shadows, wondering how he was going to get out of the mess he’d made for himself. The sound of horses and unfamiliar voices overrode the fear of being found by his angry mother. The strange men were arguing with his father but he couldn’t hear their exact words. Terror filled him as he saw the guns in their hands. He tried to call out, to warn them… but not a single sound would budge from his lips. Gunfire echoed in his ears. His mother cried out, a horrible anguished sound. Two more shots sent him into the cluttered farthest corner of the shed where he curled up into the smallest ball he could manage. Footsteps drew closer, each one pounding the earth louder than the last. “Do you see anything?” A voice called out to the outline of the man now standing in the doorway, blocking the sunlight. Ike tried not to but his eyes looked up anyway, meeting those of one of the men who had just killed his family. The man just stared down at him for what seemed like forever with his hand on his gun. The breath seemed to leak out of him all at once, his eyes softening only slightly. “No, nothing in here.” He turned and left. Long after the sounds of the men and their horses had faded into the warm afternoon air, Ike pried himself from the corner and left the safety of the shed. Silent tears flooded down his cheeks as he crept slowly closer to the three bodies lying in the grass. He knelt down next to his mother clutching her cold hand in his own as he rocked back and forth. If only he had warned them. If he had been able to call out, just make one sound loud enough to distract them. His father would have had the second he’d needed to get his gun out. They would have had a chance. Hearing the sound of the returning riders, Ike opened his eyes and hastily wiped the tears from his face. He jumped up from the hay and busied himself with one of the horses. Quiet footsteps came up behind him. “Hey Ike, everything alright?” Buck asked, carefully watching him brush the horse down. Ike nodded, putting a smile on his face to appease his friend. “Can you give us a hand unloading the wagon?” Ike nodded, waving him off. With a feeling of relief, he watched Buck walk out of the barn into the sunlight. He set the brush down and sagged against the warm body of the horse. His throat felt raw. A gunshot. His mother crying. His mouth opened, a ragged scream begging for release. But there was no sound. Always and forever… only silence. Email Gypsywitch HOME