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Authors: Elle Strauss

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BOOK: Clockwiser
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Josie was there, feeding a little brother. She snuck glances at me and I smiled discreetly. Though maybe not discreetly enough. Sara cleared her throat and knitted her red eyebrows.

 

I shoved the last spoonful into my mouth and carried my dirty dishes to the sink, an action that seemed to surprise her, if her eyebrow activity was anything to go by.

 

I ran across the back yard, puffing lightly as I entered the barn.

 

Mr. Watson saw me and said, “Tomorrow you will arrive for breakfast on time. That’s not a suggestion.”

 

“Yes, sir” I wondered if it would be impertinent to ask for an alarm clock.

 

Mr. Watson handed me a pitch fork and I followed him and Duncan out to a horse and cart. Mr. Watson straddled the horse whose mane was nearly the same color as Mr. Watson’s red hair. He nudged the horse’s flanks and trotted off. Apparently me and Duncan were walking.

 

Duncan pointed. “We’re weeding the potato field.”

 

I nodded, already anticipating the blisters I’d have on my hands by the end of the day. I followed him until we reached the field, and watched him dig into the earth between rows. Then I mimicked him.

 

I wondered why Willie hadn’t joined us, so I asked Duncan. “Did he leave already?”

 

“Nah, he’s fixing up the chicken coop. Lucky son of a gun.” Duncan covered his eyes with one hand from the glare of the morning sun.

 

“Cleaning the chicken coop makes him lucky?”

 

“No, he’s lucky because he’s over eighteen.”

 

I still wasn’t getting it. “So?”

 

“When you’re eighteen you can join the army.” He said this like it was something I should already know, which explained the odd look that came before it.

 

I grabbed a fistful of weeds and threw them into a pile. “I thought he almost got killed? Isn’t that a reason to avoid the army?”

 

“Nah, his injuries weren’t serious.” He tossed me a sly grin. “Just enough to get the girls all crazy over him.”

 

Duncan took a hanky out of his pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. I did the same.

 

“Plus,” he continued, “it gets him off this farm doesn’t it? He gets to have an adventure, shoot guns, fight for the glory of the Union.”

 

I loosened the earth with my pitch fork, bent down and plucked out more weeds. “That does sound exciting.”

 

“And can you think of a better way to impress girls than to show up at a party dressed in your army uniform? The girls almost faint over a man in a uniform.”

 

“You got a point there, Duncan. Where do we sign up?”

 

“I can’t. I’m only sixteen.” His gaze settled on me. “How old are you?”

 

“Eighteen,” I said without hesitation, though I was actually the same age as Duncan. That’s the thing about being tall, people always think you’re older than you are. Plus, my facial hair was filling out. I rubbed my chin, satisfied with the bristles I felt there.

 

The field grass we were weeding made me sneeze like every two minutes and drove me crazy. Stupid allergies. My eyes itched and it was all I could do not to stop pitching weeds, and pull my eyeballs out of my head.

 

Duncan laughed at me.

 

“Hang in there, Timothy,” he said. “Soon we will hear the midday meal bell.”

 

I wondered if Casey would be back at the house by then. Just how long would it be before she came back for me?

 

Then I realized I didn’t know how this time travel thing worked. It wasn’t like there was a button she could push. How much time went by in between her “trips”? Man, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t asked her these things.

 

I didn’t mind playing farm boy for a day, but I was ready to go home. I craved a grilled sandwich on white bread with processed sliced cheese and tomato soup that only required a can-opener to make.

 

Casey wasn’t there when the noon bell rang for lunch.

 

And she didn’t show up for supper, a thick vegetable stew and bread as heavy as a brick.

 

Josie made eyes at me across the kitchen but I was in no mood for fooling around. My eyeballs still burned, and I needed a shower, bad. I was exhausted and right about the prediction of blisters on my hands.

 

When I got back to the cabin, I slammed the door and smacked it with my fist. Was I going to be left here for good? Well, at least my parents wouldn’t have to deal with their problem child anymore. Casey could have the happy family unit she’d been crying for these past two years without me around to stir up trouble.

 

I used the outhouse behind the cabin, which was no fun in the dark of night--I’d forgotten to bring the candle with me. Then I washed up with water I had to pump out of the ground myself.

 

The hard cot suddenly felt like a feather bed. I closed my eyes and a second later the sun was up and the rooster crowed.

 

I groaned. At home I pushed the snooze button on my alarm a dozen times and then waited for Mom to rag on me.

 

But I didn’t want to face the wrath of Mr. Watson, and I had no choice but to stick it out here. Where would I go if they kicked me out, and how would Casey find me when she came back?

 

If
she came back.

 

The third day wasn’t any better than the first two. In fact it was worse because I was really stiff and sore. Maybe I should’ve gone to the gym more.

 

We’d moved from the potato fields to the strawberry patch. Though there was more squatting and my quads burned, at least I wasn’t allergic to anything there.

 

“You missed the main crop,” Duncan said, pulling his cap down on his head. He’d lent me one for some relief from the sun. “These are just the late ones, only good for making preserves.” He looked at me like he didn’t know why he was telling me these things, I should know all this if I were actually from around here, but there was no way for me to hide my lack of farming skills. I just shrugged and nodded anyway.

 

My hands were stained red with the juice and my back ached. So did pretty much every other part of my body. I didn’t know where John Lennon got off thinking strawberry fields were all romantic and poetic. He obviously hadn’t spent any time picking.

 

After a lunch of biscuits and gravy, which I had to admit was pretty tasty, I was about to head out with Duncan when Josie showed up.

 

“Timothy?”

 

“Oh, hey, Josie.”

 

“Are you coming to the send-off tonight?”

 

I shrugged. “What’s the send-off?”

 

“It’s a party at the Turners’ barn. For the soldiers before they head back to camp and off to war.”

 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll come.” Anything to help pass the time. Besides, Josie’s cheeks were flushed from talking to me. I liked how I affected her. I smiled and her smile grew even wider.

 

“That’s splendid. I’ll leave a clean change of clothes for you on the cabin steps. You look like you’d fit into Willie’s.”

 

Clean clothes and a party? Bonus. I mentally scheduled a swim in the lake to wash up.

 

Josie twirled a little, the skirt of her dress flaring out, but I still couldn’t get a glimpse of her legs.

 

“You’ll dance with me, Timothy?”

 

“Uh, I’m not much of a dancer.”

 

“Me either, but it doesn’t look hard. We could learn together.”

 

Why not. “Okay, sure. I have to go now, or Duncan will chew me out for talking to you.”

 

I left with a little skip to my step. I wondered how teens partied in the nineteenth century.

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

TIM

 

 

 

 

 

I found a secluded section of the lake, stripped down to my birthday suit and jumped in. The initial shock of moving from hot and sticky to cool and wet only lasted a moment and after a few minutes of kicking my legs like an egg beater, the lake felt like a bathtub.

 

It was fitting since I was completely naked. I’d never skinny dipped before and it was strangely exhilarating, though I did find myself checking for stray Watson kids, or day workers wandering by.

 

I’d snagged the bar of soap from the cabin, a rough, harsh looking bar. Homemade, probably. Certainly no gentle dove image stamped into it. I scrubbed my skin with it and did my best to lather my hair. Anything would be an improvement. Then I dried off with a small towel. The warmth of the sun smoothed out my goosebumps. The pants Josie had left on the step for me were made of wool or something, kind of itchy with a button-up fly. The shirt was white with some sort of tie thing I didn’t know how to do up.

 

Later, back at the cabin when it was almost time to go, Duncan helped me to get it on right, and I was more than just a little uncomfortable with the close encounter.

 

Nothing against Duncan, I just preferred his sister.

 

The whole family piled into two carriages. I sat next to Duncan and across from Josie, who had a younger sister on her lap. I remembered what Casey had said about being alone with the opposite sex unchaperoned and it dawned on me how lucky I was that Casey had found us together in the barn and not Mr. Watson.

 

I had a window seat and this was my first view of the road to Boston in 1862. Let’s just say it was bumpy. Not much to look at either. Mostly farms and farm houses and lots of trees.

 

Sara sat squished in beside Josie, her face blotching red. “I just hate saying good bye, especially in these circumstances,” she said.

 

“Henry and Willie aren’t leaving tonight,” Josie answered. “Don’t think about that. Have fun.”

 

“Yes, you are right,” she wiped her nose with a small piece of cloth. “Tomorrow has enough worries of its own.”

 

“Who’s Henry?” I said.

 

Sara blushed again but Josie answered, “Henry is Sara’s betrothed.”

 

Sara was engaged? I worked to keep the surprise I felt off my face. She didn’t look old enough to be getting married to me.

 

We didn’t go all the way into Boston, more like East Cambridge or somewhere in Somerville. We turned up a long drive made of two parallel grooves in the grass, and finally arrived at the Turners’ barn. A load of horses and carriages filled the yard. I took a whiff. And also a lot of horse manure.

 

I followed Duncan into the barn, which wasn’t as big as I’d imagined. I pictured something more like a hall, but it was an actual barn. No wonder there were so many horses in the yard. They’d been booted out for the evening. Open wooden beams ran up the walls and across an arched ceiling. A loft filled with hay opened up to the room on the far end with a makeshift stage set up under it.

 

A band consisting of four guys--a banjo, a flute, a fiddle, and a rickety looking drum-- were pounding out something musical. I’d never heard music that wasn’t amplified before, but they managed to be loud enough to fill the room. I noticed they favored tunes with strong patriotic themes.

 

Couples were already dancing in the middle of the floor, and I knew I was going to be in trouble trying to dance with Josie. I pictured the kind of dances that we had at school, where you just pressed up against a girl and swayed back and forth a little. This was actual move your feet and the six-inch rule.

 

And much like a high school dance, the guys gathered in a group on one side of the building and the girls huddled together on the other side, but both sides were constantly glancing over to the other. Some things don’t change, even in a hundred and fifty years.

 

Willie had his uniform on. The blue coat had brass buttons down the front and on the cuffs, long to mid-thigh over grey pants. He wore a blue suede cap on his head that had two little brass muskets crossing each other on the front of it. A wide leather belt with a rectangular brass buckle was cinched at the waist.

 

He was talking to another guy about the same age, stocky and blond with a full beard and moustache forming, and also dressed in uniform.

 

“That’s James Whitbey,” Duncan said, following my gaze. “Willie’s good friend.”

 

“Also heading off to war,” I said, stating the obvious.

 

“James just enlisted. His father is very much against it.” Duncan sighed. “Yeah, lucky devils. They get all the fun.”

 

I didn’t remember very many details about the Civil War from my American history class, in fact, I was pretty sure I’d slept through most of it, only getting by because I sat next to Pamela Hines, who let me cheat. I did remember that the war went on for a few years.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get a chance,” I said.

 

“Perhaps. When the war started last year, everyone expected a swift victory. No one believed it would still be running through a second summer season. So, maybe you’re right.”

 

I was right. It was slightly unnerving knowing the future. Too bad I couldn’t take advantage of it, like to buy stocks or something.

 

Not that I had money. Or knew anything about stocks.

 

The group of guys started thinning out as more of them made their way to the girls and asked them to dance.

 

Sara was dancing with some guy who must be the Henry fellow she was engaged to. I hadn’t seen her in anything but a kitchen dress before, and despite my earlier judgements on her plain looks, she actually looked attractive tonight. I didn’t like the big hoop thing all the women had going on, but it helped that she was smiling. Henry was on the short side with wide shoulders and dark hair parted on the side. He wasn’t what modern girls would call a hottie, but you could tell by the way he was staring at Sara he thought she was something.

BOOK: Clockwiser
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