The Flashes like Sun:
A Bunker Hill Story
By Nicholas Isaacs
Chapter 1
“Where are the milk cans, Daniel?” yelled John, a father living in a place that wasn’t the best to be at at that time. It was April 18th, 1775, and Massachusetts was a place of rioting and protesting over sorts of things such as British occupation and the Tea Act. “I’m coming, Pa. But these cans are as heavy as the stress on our backs.” said little Daniel, who was no older than 8. “Soon enough the British will beat and hit and kill once again.” This immediately brought back those terrible memories of the day of March 5th, 1770, the massacre of Boston, in which John Bradey Hennig barely made it out of. John shook it all away quickly and went to help little Daniel that stressed his already paining back. “Daniel,” said John in a calm smooth voice “We must not worry about the redcoats at this time. It is only Boston that has to worry about them, not us. We as far away in Massachusetts as we can get from them. Besides, we have the nice and peaceful folks living in Concord and Lexington who aren’t worrying about those red coated soldiers. So as far as I know, the redcoats are the least of our concerns.” Daniel felt a little better after that, but he was still on the alert. Then what seemed to be a British troop passed by, and Daniel did not hesitate in grabbing his father’s pistol. John quickly realized the situation and hit the weapon out of the little kid’s hand. “Why do you pick up a gun to fire it upon the man of absolute no doing?!” yelled the angered father, because as it turned out, the supposed “redcoat” was actually a trader who had traded an object of value for a red coat to walk the rest of his way home. “You should have the manners of a general, not the skills of a warrior, go up to your room and you are to stay there until you are called down for supper!” yelled John with an extreme level of anger. After supper, John realized his extreme level of anger was too much and decided to go upstairs to forgive his already heartbroken son. “Son, may I bury you in my eternal forgiveness for the actions that I bestowed on you this afternoon.” said the sorry father. “Of course I forgive you father.” said the son of John. “Are you going to take me somewhere special now?” “Of course. It is the least the father of such a great son like you can do.”
