I’ve been stolen.
Stolen from the boy and the man who have been my companions. This new man has no gun and no hope. The man will fiercely protect the boy – and
he still has one bullet. I have seen the
man kill for the boy before. It was very
matter of fact. The boy was threatened
and the man protected. It’s clear that
the man did not question his actions, but the boy is different. I heard him ask, “Are we still the good
guys?” He was assured by the man that they were – but I know the boy still
wonders. I think he wonders every time
that he holds the man’s gun, and every time the man threatens a person who
could use their help. This new man can
hardly push me along the road, I am heavy with all my companions’ supplies and the
thief can hardly grip my handle with the stump where his fingers used to
be.
It is as I thought. I
am with the man and boy once again. The
thief is gone, left naked and helpless by the man. The man’s version of justice is swift and
merciless yet the boy knows that even without shooting the man they as good as
killed him. The boy’s guilt resonates
as he says “But we did kill him” (260).
He is able to get the man to attempt to return the clothes to the
stranger, but the clothes are left in a crumpled pile on the side of the road
and will likely never see their owner again.
When the man tried to tell the boy to forget about the thief
he tells him that he is “not the one who has to worry about
everything”(259). But the boy replies “Yes
I am… I am the one.” (259). This tells
me that the boy is special. He has
maintained throughout his journey that they should be helping others. He is different from the adults on the road. His voice reminds the father that everyone is
responsible for his or her own decisions.
I am attaching a link to the song, Cry Out to Jesus. This sheds some
light on why people do what they do. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JmVxRl5bc4Y&ob=av3n



