Freedom Reigns

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One week later...

I sat next to James as I ate. He was different than any boy I had ever met, let alone heard of. He had a gentleness to him, a strong sense of loyalty that made him unable to give up. I liked it.

"Sheba, James." Sam approached us. "I'm going to meet my cousin, John, and go down to one of Hancock's ships that just harbored. Do you want to come?"

"Yes," I said before he finshed. "I can't just sit around here all day."

"I'll go, then," said James. "I've never been to the docks."

"It's nothing spectacular, but okay."

An hour later, we were approaching the docks with Mr John Adams at our side. A short, stocky, middle-aged man, he seemed a good companion, but I could tell he disliked Sam's extremism against the crown.

"There she is," said Sam, pointing to a huge, four masted ship. "Hancock's ship."

"It'd look better if there weren't five hundred people surrounding it," James remarked. I squinted against the sun and saw a massive flood of people ahead of us, cramming in front of each other to see whatever was capturing their attention.

"We must get down there!" Cried Sam, gripping his cousin's arm.

"Now calm down, Samuel," eased Mr Adams. "I know it seems exciting, but we must be careful. These are very unfortunate times and we need to be thoughtful on where we place our steps."

"My steps are taking me to that ship." James hooked our arms together. "Care to join me, Miss Storm?"

"I'd love to."

We made it to the bottom of the hill and started elbowing our way through the violent crowd, fighting for the right to stand and hopefully an interesting turnout. What we got was two screaming men on the ship ramp.

"This ship must be taxed, or its contents are the property of England!" Shouted a lean, shorter man to the captain.

"We are taxed till our pockets are dry and our children are starved! You loyalists think you can get away with it without punishment for this foolishness," snapped the Captain.

"Tar him! Tar him!" The crowd screamed, making my chest feel like lead. This was madness! Then I saw Sam smiling and chanting with them. I have never wanted to hurt somebody more in my entire life.

"Sam!" Yelled John over the crowd. "You stand for this?! It's evil!" I couldn't have agreed more. I thought that the people would let the loyalist go, but they were thirsty for blood.

The man bolted, trying to break through the crowd, but was overwhelmed by men grabbing and beating him. They tore his shirt off and forced him onto a loading platform, where a boiling pot of tar sat smoking.

"Stop!" I screamed, trying to tear through the crowd. "You're all crazy! Stop!" James was beside me, helping me push forward with all his might. I looked up as I heard the loyalist scream, though I couldn't look away when the men held his limbs back and another man slowly dropped hot globs of tar on his bare skin. "Stop!" I begged, my voice getting sore. "Please! This is insane!" Then it all happened so suddenly.

The whole pot of tar was dumped on the head of the screaming loyalist, feathers tossed on him as he cringed in agony.

"You're all insane!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, making few heads turn with guilty expressions. Tears broke out of my eyes and glued my hair to my cheeks. I didn't know what to do. I was shoving people about, blind rage heating the fire in my chest. James pulled me into his strong, unwavering arms, my face frozen in shock and unable to make a sound.