"Stop humming."
"I am not humming."
"Yes you are." Rachel said impatiently. "You are humming Blink 182 'What's My Age Again' which, I have to admit, is a perfect song for you, but you're humming it off key."
"Oh." I paused. "Well, when we get back to our time, I'll join the Glee Club if I can fit it in with battling the Yeerks and changing Baby-Think- It-Through's diapers. Would that make you happy?"
"Baby-Think-It-Through? Oh no!" Rachel exclaimed. "Do you think anyone took care of her?"
"What, are your maternal instincts finally kicking in?"
"It's worth 60% of our grade, in case you forgot."
"Oh no! Do you think anyone took care of her?"
Rachel groaned, and I would have laughed had I not remembered I was still mad at her. "How much farther do you think it is?" she said. I felt a small twinge of pity for her. She was wearing an incredible amount of layers of long skirts, and had to be sweltering. I was getting pretty toasty myself. Rachel tossed her blonde hair, having just freed it from the bonnet and tight braids. I mentally scolded myself for watching.
"I think it's just about another mile. I can hear them."
"That's what you said a mile ago."
"Yeah, but now I'm serious."
"I thought this was all in the same town. . .why is it taking so long?"
"Because, contrary to popular 21st century belief, towns are actually miles long and wide. It's just that riding in a car-or flying-makes everything seem so much smaller."
"You sound like a nerd. Remind me again why we didn't fly."
"Do YOU want to show up to the Revolutionary War in a leotard?"
"Ulch." Rachel shuddered.
"What?"
"Just got a mental image of you in a leotard."
I didn't say anything. Rachel took the hint and fell silent as well, For about three seconds.
"Now how much farther is it?"
* * *
I'm not quite sure what I expected to see of the Revolutionary War's first battle. The last time I had visited this particular war, it had been cold. And night. But mostly cold. And then there was shooting, and cold water, and a lot of dying.
Well, the war didn't start out that way.
It was a sunny April day. There were birds chirping. Green grass, pretty spring flowers, and then soldiers: British soldiers, all neat and lined up in cute little rows and wearing their matching red uniforms that must have been really warm. And the colonies. . .well. . .
They were not wearing matching uniforms. They were not in cute little rows.
More or less, it was a bunch of guys grouped together, holding guns and glaring at the British. Matter of fact, there was a lot of glaring going on from both sides. And once I thought about, there wasn't much else happening either.
"So this is your big battle?"
"It hasn't started yet." I said in self-defense. "There will be one shot fired, the 'Shot Heard Round the World'. Then everyone will go crazy."
"Right." Rachel rolled her eyes and grabbed my arm. "Let's go."
"Go? Go where?" I asked as she dragged me in the direction of the colonial side.
"We're supposed to be here? Well, let's find out why."
"There's one problem with that. I might fit in ok, but there probably aren't that many blond girls without their cute little bonnets on down there." Rachel dig her nails into my arm, and I couldn't stifle the little "Yipe!" of pain.
"They can deal." She said, and pulled me right into the crowd of staring patriots. A few of them temporarily stopped their looks at the British to glare at us for interrupting the sacred ritual, but Rachel glared right back at them, and I know from experience, that girl has one of the best evil eyes of all time, right up there with Crayak, who basically IS an eye.
"Now what?" Rachel whispered to me.
"Now what?!" I hissed under my breath. "This was your brilliant idea!"
"No, it was yours, you just didn't have the balls to carry it out." I was about to object, but something caught my eye. A soldier/patriot/minuteman/whatever the called `em back then-now?-was staring at Rachel. He was young, I'd say late teens to early twenties, but had kind of an unclean look to him. Unshaven, which was understandable seeing as he'd probably been woken up in the middle of the night to be here, but his eyes were also bloodshot. My opinion was that he looked stoned, but who knew if people smoked pot in the 1700's?
"Hey," I poked Rachel in the side. "You've got an admirer." I pointed to Stoned.
"Hmm. Might be kinda cute if he was fixed up." That just showed the difference between what girls notice and what guys notice. "But that is so not the point."
"So what is the point?"
"We're here. I'm hot. If we don't get out of here soon, I am going to get extremely cranky. DO SOMETHING!"
"Would you rather go back to the Campbell's? Maybe they're making apple butter now."
Rachel threw her hands up in exasperation. "Never mind. I'll do this myself is I have to."
"What are you planning on doing?" I yelled after her as she walked away. She didn't look back. Just to add insult to injury, Stoned, who had been watching us the entire time, followed after her. As I was muttering under my breath some not-kind things about girls, I saw it. A gun-rifle, I guess-just lying on the ground in plain view. It'd be a shame if it got stepped on or something. . .
So I picked it up.
Word to the wise: Trying to pick a gun up by the trigger? BAD idea.
BA-BOOM!
The gun fired off into the air. Suddenly, the staring was over. Guns were being picked up. Shots were being fired.
That's when it dawned on me. I had just accidentally fired the first shot of the Revolutionary War. The "Shot Heard Round the World."
I had just started the Revolutionary War.
What was I going to tell Rachel??
