Mostly, Carlos slept. On the fourth morning, he awoke with a strange feeling. Though his head pounded and his ribs still hurt with each breath, the pain in his foot seemed to be gone. Gently, he moved his foot from side to side, something that would have caused him to scream before. He sat up and pulled his legs around. Tough moving still hurt, he could now picture the day when he would be better. With that thought, a moment of intense fear passed through him. He had come so, so close to dying. He had come so close to not being. “Linda,” he called. The village girl came running. He paused for a moment, looking at her. “Tell me something,” he said. “Why are you all being so nice to me here?” She tilted her head and grinned. A dimple formed on each cheek. She shrugged her shoulders. “Please,” he said. “Tell me.” Without looking at him, she said, “You made the bad men go away.” Carlos cheered silently. It was her accent. She really was from the South. “They went away on their own,”
What do You think about The Day The Rebels Came To Town?
