Onward christian soldiers part 7

Why?  !!! ???? !!! :(  !
I watched Captain's back until he disappeared. Death. He was gone.

Pa held family council, and Helaman was now our oldest brother. Constance gave Ester a comforting hug, and Ma hugged Faith, who was crying silently. I wasn't crying. I was torn. I tried to remind myself. This was just a reenactment, but it felt so real. Captain was gone. My brother was gone.
 I stared past Pa's shoulder all the while he talked, hoping there was some mistake and Captain would come back any second. But I knew he wouldn't.
We left his things on the side of the road, and continued on. I took the front, in the place of Ester. I grasped the same section of the bar that Captain had, and pulled.

It was harder without Captain.

It was hard being up front.

But I did it. With Helaman. And with Alma. With my sisters, and with my trek parents.

And then we were instructed by other families to stop. There was a deep ravine ahead of us.
We could see it beyond the next couple family's carts. I abandoned ours to help my friend's carts down and up. The ravine was similar to a V in shape, I was too busy to take more then three or so pictures of it, and none of them show the real steepness of that thing!
When I'd helped a few carts up, I observed the struggle, intentionally looking for Joseph. I saw his cart go through the ravine, but somehow I missed him.

But then, there he was, right next to me. His presence was comforting that moment. We exchanged a few brief words, and then he was off, helping someone's cart up. In the very beginning, they had to figure out how to get the carts down without tipping them over. A flour-bag baby fell out of a cart on the way down and was crushed. Someone tried to grab it, but it was too late. Perhaps before, I didn't care for these flour babies. But now, I could see. I could see what a crushing effect seeing your own baby crushed under the wheels of a wagon could be. I tried to take better care of our flour babies after that.

(This whole sequence, on the movie screen, should have had the long, slow, Come, Come ye saints, no trial nor labor fear...and should we die, before our journey's through, ... though hard to you, this journey may appear, grace shall be,  as your day...",  slowly, somberly playing under footage of the faces, the struggle, the slow motion.....)


Down, the dirt was soft and loose, it gave way like sand. One Pa, I believe it was a certain one from my ward, brought thick rope, and it proved useful up, but especially down. I helped the last cart up, and when I found my family, they waved me over.

This time  I immediately noticed that Helaman was missing.

"Where's Helaman?"

"He went for Ma's contacts when they fell out of the cart, and twisted his ankle when the cart's wheel pushed his foot against a rock."
Faith told me.
If I had lived in the medieval century I would have said, "A pox on fallen things!" But I didn't know anything cursory for the 1800's, so I kept quiet.

"He's at the base now with the doctors." Ma said.
And that was it. We were down to one brother.

Quiet Alma. Alma took the front, and I went to my spot at the back. We rolled into a clearing where everyone else was parked. It was sort of odd, but I guessed we were having another story time.
Our trail boss stood in the middle of the circle, and called the names of the families that had to give up their babies, ( they died of course). He talked a while, about death. About loss and sorrow, trial, tears. The realities of the pioneer trail. The cost of my life and my faith today.

What perfect timing, I thought. we hadn't lost a baby, but we'd lost two brothers, perhaps one would be back shortly, though injured now, but Captain was gone. I felt more sad. Joseph's friend from our ward was sitting next to me, we glanced at each other, but then just as quickly looked away. I could tell he was feeling sad as well. It was soon for me to find out that his oldest brother in his family had died too, and that older brother was my friend.

I had kind of zoned out, thinking about this friend and Captain. Losing people you love, in the midst of the struggle.
But when our trail boss mentioned the resurrection, I  suddenly brightened a little. Were we really going to have a resurrection?
And then, of all things to say at that moment, he said, starting first,
" ...there were times when the pioneers took a wrong turn, and had to retrace their steps..."
He couldn't be serious. But then, of course he was.
We went the wrong way!

Onward Christian Soldiers part 6

Now we had a long ways to catch up, we were now in one of the long stretches of stragglers we used to wait for. It really wasn't that necessary, but Captain and Faith pulled us along, faster and faster, till we got to the middle of the main train. And then,we came to pass under a nice shade of trees. We rested, while our trail boss shared stories of the pioneers and mobs in Nauvoo. Several of my friends shared their family history stories.

And soon we were on our way again.
It must have been about 3 or 4 O' clock, I didn't know, but then, I saw the porta-potties standing by a grove of dry trees. If you saw those you knew we were going to stop for the day. Old-time tradin' posts, near-like! 
But this time we didn't. Others saw them too, and we were confused when our trail boss led us in the other direction. Maybe they were for some other company coming after us?  So we passed them. It was getting to be about the time of day we stopped, so I plowed on, eager to make camp and write in my journal about my experiences of the day, including the role-played death/departure of a friend in another family.


And then, we passed another gate. The angels. he angels of Death, in my book.
They were lined up on either side of it, this time very silent.
They didn't sing, ( they usually did,) and we were all too tired to sing.
But I wasn't even in the mood. I didn't want to sing. I was still having unjust/unfair feelings at that friend. I looked up from our cart, and saw him now, he smiled at me.
 I looked away.
Unwilling to return it.
I pushed harder, to get away from those darn destroying angels. And I was satisfied with the result.
It was only my short legs that prevented me from being a really good puller in front, it wasn't my attitude. But then, we hadn't gone too far, when suddenly, once again I heard Pa say, "Whoa, stop, stop, we need to stop. Pull over."
Was it another break? I had to pull back on the cart to get it to stop. And when we did, I looked over the heap of our possessions on the cart,
"What happened? Are we broken again?"

"No," Faith and Helaman who had been pushing in back with me, let go of the cart, and went to the front. Pa got out the parking stick, which held up the cart when no one was there to hold it.
It was right then, when I realized, that Ester was crying. And not just exhausted crying, she was really crying.

I looked at everyone else, they were all staring at the grassy floor, and Ma was crying too.
"W-what happened?"
Again I looked around, one face was missing... where was...?
"They took Captain," Ma said softly.
"What?! Who took---" I glanced at Ester, and then I knew.
The angels took Captain. I looked over Pa's shoulder, and saw him. Walking with an angel.  The angel put his arm over Captain's shoulder. He didn't even look back once. Now there was a lump in my throat. Can heaven be so great? Can God really need those who are needed here? Cruel death angels. Family destroyers. Robbers. Thieves
Captain, come back! You can't leave us, you can't leave me, we need you! I wanted to call out, but the words never escaped my mouth.
He disappeared under the cover of the grove of trees. And all the angels left.

Onward Christian Soldiers part 5

On we went, it was a hot afternoon, though thankfully there was a breeze, sent from heaven.
The sun still beat down on our backs however.  Ester, my oldest sister,  Pa, and Captain pulled up front while the rest of us pushed in back. We in the middle of the long train of carts, and it seemed as both Captain and Ester were determined to make it up to the front. Every once in a while, as often as she could, Ma would pour ice water down our backs, if she could get it, and if she couldn't she got the warm water from our cooler.

Pushing that cart now felt like a daily routine, a month after month, endless daily routine. This is my agenda: Push cart, take drink, help trek siblings, break for meals, push, push, push, set up tent,  write in my journal....and, many times, fall asleep on it.
Captain was tired, so I offered to trade places with him. I held the handle bar quite fine, I thought, but when we started moving, all I could do was try to keep from being run over by the heavy- big wheeled wooden car.  I tried, but I couldn't be Captain's chance for a rest. While pushing in back, he peeked over our heap of stuff, and saw me there trying to keep up with Pa and Ester, pulling beside me, and came back to  take his place in less than a minute. That stunk. IT stunk that no matter how hard I tried I couldn't pull like Captain, Faith,  Ester, or Constance, Alma, or Helaman.

So I helped in every other way I could. I knew some things they didn't. I could be encouragement.
I could give perspective. I could try to pull in some humor.  If there was something I could do I did it.
I shared a few short stories of my ancestors that went to Salt lake Valley, or helped Ma with the meals.

Now that a great number of our company had begun to tire, and lost that first spurt of energy when we had begun, our train of carts would stretch out, and there would be a couple gaps, and many stops for those left behind.

But they were quick.
And we were always at, or near the front.
And then, when we were moving,---crack!
"Whoa, Whoa, stop!" Pa called out. I hadn't heard him until the third time. "What?"
"Stop," We stopped, "The cart broke," Pa announced. In the back, we all came  around to the front to see. Faith was apologizing over and over; she had broke her side of the bar, the part that connected to the cart.
But no one was the least bit angry at her.
We all comforted her with compliments of her strength and determination, especially Captain.
We carefully moved our cart out of the way, so the wagon train could go on without us.
One family offered help, but Pa and the boys had it well handled. Pa came prepared with rope and tied it secure.

It never came undone.

Onward Christian soldiers part 4

Then our trail boss rode around the camp,
"Pack up! we are an hour behind our schedule, load up!"

Captain, Alma, Helaman and Pa loaded and tied down our tent and supplies, while my sisters and I put away the food. Not long after we started Pa started to sing,  Come, come ye saints.... I started with him, and then one by one, Helaman was singing, Captain, Alma, Ester, Faith and Constance. And then we heard other scattered families singing the same song with us. For a little while, the entire company was singing Come, Come ye saints.

As we moved out of camp we went though a wide gate way. there were about seven angels, a majority of them adults. But I could see the two white silhouettes of the boys Helamen had mentioned earlier. All of them had halo flowers around their heads. They started to sing with us. I looked down at my feet, shading my face with my bonnet as we passed. A lot of times, I caught my big brother Captain looking in the angels' direction.
You know, some people think a lot about heaven. (And I am sure that's what Captain was doing.)

We soon made up that hour, my family could tell that we were getting ahead, because they made us stop for a lot of bath room breaks. Nevertheless,  our throats were tired of singing, but every once in a while I would hear someone trying to sing, with hardly any air to sing with. Closer to noon, we saw the angels again. There were a lot more this time.

We had been told to watch our feet so not to trip and sprain our ankles or break a nail. I saw one boy with a Dr. who  had his entire toenail torn off. Now imagine that with stiff hiking boots and miles of rocky ground to cross- Ouch.

So I was diligently looking down the whole time and hadn't seen the angels take a few more kids and adults. I began to look around, to see where some of my friends were, to check if  any of them had been taken.
One  of them  was  missing. Must be around somewhere.  But Joseph was still around. So happy where he was that he hadn't even said 'good after NOON!', or 'Hi Tali.' Maybe I missed him. I missed them both.

But walking, on the way, my family and I talked about different things, things we did before the trek, things we did normally. I told my Ma about my blog, drawings, (she'd also seen one in the bus I had been drawing) and that I worked for the trail boss at his horse camp, when things were normal.

Captain talked about going on his mission, but pulled more then he ever talked. Helaman began to worry about his sister, ( his real sister) who had been one of the ones to have passed out in the beginning of our journey to Zion. She was doing worse now, and had been temporarily taken away to recover. There were others, and some one sprained their ankle. Helaman said he wished the angels would come take him to heaven. He was having a very hard time.

Meanwhile, I was getting more and more worried about this friend I had not seen since yesterday. At noon, we broke for lunch. I finished my food, ( ham sandwich, chips, fruit and juice,) and excused myself  to say hi to Joseph.
I found him with a group of boys and Pa's, playing stick pull. I went to stand by him. He was very animated, with his eyes glued to the contest as if it were a TV show. Actually it was pretty interesting. So I watched for a while. One guy that looked a lot like a real country boy, and not just his clothes, was beating all the other Pa s' and boys. I was surprised to learn that this was the real oldest son of my Ma and Pa. We were role playing our trek families so well that you didn't know who really belonged to whom, in modern day time. Well, he beat everyone that played except one big Pa.

He even beat his pa, who was my bishop.

I turned to Joseph and asked if he'd seen this particular friend.
"What?"
I repeated my question, "Have you seen him?"
"Uh--oh look at that, he's beating everybody..."
I moved in front of him. "Listen, have you seen xxx?"
"Oh him? Tali, didn't you know? He died this morning. The angels took him."

My mouth dropped.
I had been fearing this, but I hadn't permitted myself to believe it.
"No way," I shook my head.
"Yes way, see for yourself when they come around next. Didn't you see them at the gate? I thought you did, because..." Joseph looked passed me at the stick pull match. "Whoa!" his eyes sparkled, "That was cool."

Demonstration of how males and females handle stress. Girls, its the ties that bind, the relationships, the feelings, family, the comings and goings. Boys? Distraction, action. Untouchable emotionless motion.

"Joseph!" I leaned over, "Because what?"
"Oh, because he passed you while you were eating breakfast."
"Oh."
"Why do you wanna know?" Joseph asked.
I left without answering. I was angry. This wasn't fair.
When we started off again, Captain noticed.
"Are you alright Tali?"
"Yeah. I 'm fine. Its just I found out one of my friends is hanging out with the angels."
 I avoided looking at him, so he wouldn't see my face.
"Oh... I 'm sorry... That's sad."
I felt a little guilty for not being sad at all, but I couldn't help it. I was feeling a little angry at this friend. For conspiring against us all to die. Why didn't he tell me?

I imagined all the things I would say to him, but the more I repeated them, the more they became just,
'Why didn't you tell me?' But how could he tell me? he was just taken. Unless...
The next drink stop I asked Captain, "Do they just take the kids, or do they pick them ahead of time?"
He glanced at me, and put his canteen back in the cart. It wasn't till we started moving again when he answered me. Thank goodness for Captain beside me. This cart-our home on wheels- moved because of him, and Faith.

"They picked them ahead of time." he said.
"They have to be, in order to bring white clothes." Ma answered,
"Oh. Okay."
Now he could have told me.
But I don't know how I didn't detect the next one to leave the company.