The Heartland Experiment

CHAPTER ONE

"Minds that are ill at ease are agitated by both hope and fear." Ovid

His left cheek swollen with chewing tobacco, Staff Sergeant Will Blanks spat a dark brown spot onto the pristine white snow. At twenty-five, Blanks was one of the youngest members of the Union Army regimen. He chewed tobacco because it seemed to have a numbing effect on his nerves. However, it had quite the opposite effect on his teeth, staining them a harsh yellow.

Blanks gently rocked back and forth in the saddle. His horse crested the hill. Looking to the southeast, he recognized the back of a farmhouse and a little red shack nearby. The dull echo of a smacking sound filtered through his ears. He smelled the aroma of burning wood and saw smoke ascending from the chimney. The McKenna farmstead was within sight.

The six soldiers in dark blue uniforms continued to ride through the field in single file. They left the fort at ten that morning. Leading the procession was Major Aaron Wilkerson. He was forty-one years old and a twenty-year veteran of the army. His hair was reddish-brown in color. He was a very fit man, approximately six feet tall. The Major was born and raised in Kansas. However, he'd seen his share of fighting during this bloody Civil War. At Gettysburg, he witnessed human flesh and bone being shredded into countless, gruesome pieces. The images replayed constantly in his mind. The war certainly had changed him.

A brown rabbit scampered past in the shallow snow. The legs of the horses seemed to rise and fall in unison. Vapors from their nostrils snorted little mists into the cold, dry air.

Along with Major Wilkerson were five of his most trusted men. Second in command was Corporal Jeremiah Livingston. He was a short man about thirty years old. He'd fought side by side at Gettysburg with Major Wilkerson. Corporal Livingston was from Connecticut. He wasn't married. After the battle at Gettysburg, he followed the Major to Kansas. The two men were best friends.

"We're getting close", Major Wilkerson relayed back to the Corporal. With this, he'd broken about an hour's worth of verbal silence.

Major Wilkerson raised his right arm and pointed to the southwest. The riders were about one hundred yards away from the house. There was little noise other than the occasional neighing from one of the horses.

The horses made a wide turn around the southwest corner of the house. The Major noticed a young man chopping wood. He slung a long handled axe. Two young black men stood near a woodpile and eyed the Major.

The Major commanded his horse to halt. It came to an abrupt stop, as did the other horses in the single file line.

Benjamin McKenna slammed the axe head into the tree stump. Looking over his left shoulder, he saw the Union soldiers climbing down from their mounts.

"Afternoon men", he said, in a greeting fashion.

"Afternoon", the Major replied.

"Mother and father are just finishing supper. If you men are hungry, there should be plenty of food for all of you. We'll be glad to water your horses while you warm yourselves by the fire."

The Major looked directly into Benjamin's eyes. He sternly said, "We're not here for a social visit son."

"Is there a problem?", Benjamin asked.

"That's what we're here to find out", the Major replied. "I need for you and those other two to join us inside the house. We have a few questions to ask you and your family." This last statement came more as an order, as though the Major was instructing one of his own men.

"Sure, Benjamin replied. "Samuel, Marcus, follow me into the house."

"Yes sir", they both said, nodding their heads in the affirmative.

Benjamin led the way into the house. He handed the door off to the Major.

"Mother, father, we have visitors", Benjamin called out toward the kitchen.

The sound of chairs scooting against the wooden floor echoed from the kitchen. Alexander and Molly McKenna walked down the short hallway to the living room.

"Would you men care for some supper, Molly asked?"

"No ma'am", the Major replied. "But thank you kindly for the offer."

"How can we help you?", Alexander McKenna asked.

"Sir, my name is Major Aaron Wilkerson and this is Corporal Jeremiah Livingston. We're here to investigate allegations that have been raised against you and your family."

"Allegations against me and my family?", he asked in disbelief.

"Yes".

"What kind of allegations are you talking about?"

"Numerous sources have accused you and your family of harboring slaves."

A young woman gently walked into the living room from the kitchen. She stood quietly next to Alexander McKenna. Sarah was the McKenna's daughter, and at nearly seventeen, their youngest child.

"Slaves, that's outlandish!", Alexander McKenna spouted loudly. "Marcus and Samuel work the fields and perform household chores. They're not slaves. They're like family."

"But do you pay them?", the Major asked.

"Listen here Major, you can't come into our home like this and make these kinds of wild accusations." Alexander paused, collecting his thoughts. Even though it wasn't hot in the room, he began to perspire.

"But are they paid?", the Major once again asked.

"Sir, I just told you they are treated well. I pay them in kind. They receive food, clothing and a roof over their heads. Your charges are groundless and insulting to my family and me. We're not on trial here!"

"Well sir, that's exactly what we're going to have us here, a little trial!"

"You have no authority to do so", the elder McKenna said. His face flushed with anger, he prepared to do battle with the Major.

"Mr. McKenna, we have the full authority of the government of the United States of America to investigate this matter. I strongly suggest that you and the members of your family fully cooperate."

An evil grin crossed the face of Staff Sergeant Blanks. Standing near the fireplace, he walked in front of it. He spat a chunk of the brown, leafy material through his teeth and into the fire. This caused the flames to briefly dance higher. Feeling a trickle of juice running down the left side of his mouth, he took his right shirtsleeve and wiped it away. The grin on his face disappeared. He returned to his original position.

"Surely there's some mistake?", Molly asked.

"No ma'am, I'm afraid there's no mistake." The Major paced a couple of steps closer to the center of the room.

"I'm going to ask you all to have a seat while we conduct our investigation."

"Why you can't be serious!" Alexander McKenna now pointed his right index finger in the Major's direction.

Molly grabbed her husband's arm firmly in an effort to calm him. Both men stared directly at one another for several seconds, neither seemed to blink.

"I'm asking all of you to please have a seat!", Major Wilkerson repeated.

Sarah was the first to comply, taking a seat on a red chair located in the northeast corner of the living room. Molly and Alexander walked over to a divan along the west wall. The divan was gold in color. She was still holding on to Alexander's arm as they sat down. Benjamin took a seat on the floor in front of his parents. The two young black men stood silently near the front door. The Major paced back and forth like a nervous animal. The other five soldiers were scattered about the edges of the room.