the journal of literature and the arts at saint david’ s school
Just what I thought. It’ s hard to be living as a black man here. Even about 75 years after slavery was abolished, we still are not treated equally.
As Midnight pants out his last breaths, he lets out one last quiet“ heehaw.”
It has been three days since Midnight was killed. We buried him at the most southeast point of our estate, near where I fought off the people who tried to take our land fifty years ago. It’ s been painful without Midnight because he was my favorite mule on the whole ranch, and the son of Belle. Father still remembers that four month journey Belle took us on.
One warm evening, me and Sarah are standing out on the vast prairie, when we see an old, dark stallion carrying the silhouette of a frail and limp figure atop its back. Then I see them. A Union emblem from Civil War times and a holster with a single Colt in it. I have the other one that makes the pair.
“ Caesar!” I start sprinting as fast as I can towards the horse.“ Midnight!” I finally arrive at the figure, my old friend and partner, Sergeant Caesar. We take him into the house and give him some water and a sandwich. He then finally speaks.“ Will, have you been taking care of your father?” he groggily asks. I am still so taken back by his arrival on our land that I can only muster a“ Yes, Caesar.”“ Good boy,” he replies.“ You were always a persistent little boy.” I can’ t help but ask the one question that’ s been pestering me all these fifty years.“ Did you make it to California? Did you see the ocean?”
“ Yes, son. I made it to California and swam in the ocean. It was beautiful. The journey there was treacherous though. There was a lot of difficult terrain on the way. A little under halfway through, I ran into the huge mountains,
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