Patriots: Boston

Chapter Twenty: Tavern Boy

I woke up early that morning. I went back inside to get ready for work. Zeb was waiting for me in the kitchen.
"Have fun cuddling last night?" He laughed.
"That means nothing," I grumbled.
"What's wrong with the you?" He joked, "You seemed so happy, and why is he wearing your ruffled cap?!"
"Zeb, would you shut up?! You were wrong!" I said angrily, my voice shaking a little.
"Whoa, honey, what happened," he said, falsely taken aback.
"Please don't call me honey," I said tersely.
"Liza, what happened?!" Zeb demanded, still lightly chuckling.
"I am nothing more than a friend to him," I snapped, "He doesn't love me like I love him. You were wrong!"
"You know he's an idiot, right?" Zeb asked half heartedly.
"He meant it, Zeb," I said sadly.
"He's a chicken. He may have the bravery, or stupidity, to go into battle and get himself shot for the sake of freedom, but when it comes to you, he's probably terrified," Zeb smiled.
"This isn't funny, Zeb!" I shouted angrily.
"It will be once I crack him open about this," Zeb said slyly.
I sighed. "I'm going to work."
"I'm walking you there," Zeb said taking my arm.
"Fine," I said.
We started our walk to the Harold house.
"Have you seen Penelope lately?" I asked.
"Not since the tea party," Zeb said awkwardly.
"Maybe you should see her, at least to show her you survived the battle," I said.
"I feel like I should avoid her house," Zeb said tersely.
"Why?" I asked.
"Her father is a loyalist who won't want to see me around his daughter," he whispered.
"Well, who said you can't see her outside of her own home?" I asked.
"Liza, you don't get it," he said, annoyed.
"Hmm, let's see. Loving someone who you aren't allowed to see because parents are involved! Of course I would know nothing about it!" I said sarcastically. "The only difference is she actually loves you."
"She's engaged," Zeb muttered. "She's engaged to a British officer."
"Oh dang," I said, taken aback. "Who would this British officer be?"
"I don't know the name," Zeb said. "Can we stop talking about this?"
"Sure," I said, "But I'm really sorry, Zeb."
We walked in silence on our route to the Harolds'. Zeb dropped me off and I knocked on the door. Philip opened it.
"Good morning, Betty," he said courteously.
"Philip," I said, annoyed.
I just pushed past him on my way to the kitchen. Philip grabbed my hand. I pulled away.
"What are you doing?!" I snarled.
"Why are you so upset with me?" He asked.
"The British beat the militia at Bunker and Breed's Hill and they killed one of my friends," I snapped, tears ready to escape. "Please tell me you weren't the one who did it again!"
"It wasn't exactly a victory for us either, Betty," Philip said calmly. "We lost a lot more men than your side did. Who's your friend? That kid who tried to take me out in the street before Cordelia's tea party?"
"No," I grumbled, "Doctor Joseph Warren!"
"Oh! I heard about that! I hear it was quite the blow to the colonists side," said Philip.
"I'll say," I snapped. "Now if you'd let me go off to the kitchen..."
"I'm sorry about the Doctor, Betty. Really, I am," Philip said apologetically.
"I don't need your sympathy! I thought you were a deserter!" I whispered harshly.
"Well, I can't officially desert, and my enlistment is not up until Christmas. Don't you like having me around in the King's army to smuggle information to you?" Philip asked, a sly smile across his face.
I turned and ran to the kitchen.
Mrs Harold ran the bell. "Betty! Get in here please!"
"You'd better go, miss," Amaka laughed. "Go be her daughter."
I walked uncomfortably into the parlor. One of the British soldiers who had been there before was sharing a chair with Mrs. Harold again. Cordelia was sitting with Philip on the love seat. Both couples looked happy. I knew I should probably be happy for them and relieved that I was getting off work when they were all in a good mood, but there was some deep seeded jealousy inside me. Why had Isaac turned me down so hard? He really had no idea he was hurting me, but I was still secretly angry.
"Betty! Darling! Good morning!" Mrs. Harold said warmly, smiling cheesily and holding out her arms to embrace me.
"Good morning, mother!" I laughed, awkwardly accepting the hug.
"Sleep well last night, darling?" She asked sweetly.
Of course my answer was no. It was outside after my heart has been stomped on!
"Yes, it was lovely," I lied enthusiastically.
"That's great! Please have a seat with us," Mrs. Harold said.
I sat down in the most comfortable chair I had ever seen. I could have fallen asleep right then and there.
"You have such beautiful children, madam," the soldier said to Mrs Harold.
"Yes, they are a true blessing," Mrs. Harold smiled.
"So, Philip, tell us about this victory over the rebels!" Cordelia said flirtatiously.
I flashed Philip a death look.
"We took the hills," Philip said slowly, "but it could hardly be called a victory with the amount of men and ammunition we lost."
"Hey," The soldier said, "don't be silly, boy! We won! Of course it's a victory."
"You weren't there, sir," Philip said quietly.
"But I heard about it! We took the hills! That's all that matters!" The soldier laughed.
"Some wine Sergeant Jennings?" Mrs Harold asked.
I tried not to outwardly cringe.
"Of course, m'lady!" The soldier said.
"Dinah!" Mrs. Harold called. "The wine!"
Amaka ran in. "How many glasses, madam?"
"Five," Mrs Harold said.
"I'll pass," I said politely.
She shot me a look. "Alright, little miss. Four glasses for the grown ups and maybe just some water for you."
"Thank you, Amak- I mean Dinah," I said.
She returned swiftly with the drinks. I took my glass of water and Philip actually drank some this time.
"Look who's drinking in the morning," I teased.
"Sergeant Jennings gave me hell about this last time. I need to show him I can down it," Philip whispered, taking a sip.
Everyone kept drinking and it all went down hill from there. Philip seemed too unaffected by the wine, but then I realized he had only drunk three tiny sips. Sergeant Jennings dropped his glass and it shattered. This was not the first time this had happened.
"Oh Betty! Get the broom!" Mrs Harold said.
"Do not make your daughter clean it up," Sergeant Jennings laughed."Have your slave girl do it."
"Dinah!" Mrs Harold called.
Amaka came and cleaned it up. I followed her back to the kitchen.
"Why does she do this?" I asked, exasperated.
"Like I said, she needs money. That Sergeant Jennings has plenty of it, and he's her age and a widower with no children. They get crazy fun and frivolous when they are drinking wine in the morning like this, and it's not really causing too much harm. Soon they might get a little too far, but right now they're just a little drunk," Amaka laughed. "It's no big deal for you."
"They break a glass everyday!" I grumbled.
"That's their problem if they don't have any glasses left by the end of this endeavor," Amaka joked.
"This endeavor?" I asked.
"You don't think she'll be flirting with him like this forever, do you?"Amaka smiled slyly. "Soon they'll get somewhere with this."
"Oh dear," I shuttered.
"Anyway, you can probably head back home, sweetie," Amaka offered. "They don't need you around here today."
"Alright," I said, happy to leave.
I ran down to the Boston Gazette building. It had been forever since I had seen Eli. He was working at the printing press when I got there.
"Hey," I said happily.
"Hey!" He exclaimed. "It's been forever since I've seen you, Liza! How have you-YOW!"
He had pinched his finger in the printing press.
"Oh my god! Are you alright?" I asked, concerned.
"Yeah, it's fine. I'll just take a break and talk to you," he said, sucking on his finger.
I took a seat at the counter. "Are you sure you're alright?" I asked.
"I'm fine. How's your family and Zeb and Isaac?" He asked cheerily.
"They're fine I guess. Isaac is getting stronger, physically," I said with a tad of bitterness.
"I guess that's good," Eli chuckled.
"Physically."
"I'm sorry. You wouldn't understand. I really shouldn't be mad," I muttered.
"What's going on that I don't see?" Eli asked with smile.
"He and I are friends," I said plainly.
"And that's a problem because..." Eli waited for me to finish.
"It's not," I said quickly.
"You wanted to be more than friends?" Eli asked, grinning.
"I guess," I blushed.
"Does he know that?" Eli asked.
"I don't know," I said, annoyed.
"You see, I really thought he liked you, liked you as more than just a friend. I feel like something happened between you and him that night at your uncle's farm. If that's not more than friendship I don't know what is," Eli said curiously.
"Yeah, I don't know what his deal is, but I'm certainly not going to sit around and sulk about it," I said flatly. "Have you heard any news of the war?"
"I heard about the battles on the hills and about the doctor. It's all really bad," Eli said sadly. "On top of that, Mr. Edes won't let me go to train with the militia because he doesn't think I have a place on the battle field."
"Maybe staying away from fighting is for the best," I said. "Your writing can do a lot."
"It would be easier to write about the battles if I was there to witness it! How am I supposed to write about the battles if I didn't see them play out?!" Eli said, annoyed.
"Ask some eyewitnesses?" I suggested.
"Who would be a good eyewitness who wasn't in the midst of the fighting?" Eli asked.
"Well, I don't know. You could interview a few soldiers who fought and maybe some people who live on Charlestown Neck where the hills are and see what they saw. Then maybe interview a British soldier or two and see their reasons. Maybe cover both sides of the story," I suggested.
"No way am I talking to any British soldier about the battle that killed one of the most crucial Sons of Liberty and many others! Also, Mr. Edes could get in trouble too because chances are they don't want to talk to me, a printer's apprentice and young boy in general, about a battle. If I did that and they found out I was Mr. Edes' apprentice they'd have him for sure!" Eli explained.
"Alright, so I see why you can't do both sides, but maybe just go around interviewing people who had some part in it. If the article is written well, it might rouse more people to fight!" I said excitedly.
Eli looked at me with a slight annoyance, but it softened. "That's a good idea," he said finally. "Who would be some good soldiers to interview?"
"Zeb might have something to say. He always does," I smiled.
"Who else?" He asked.
"I'm not sure. You could ask Zeb for more names when you talk to him," I said.
"Is he busy now? Could I talk to him?" Eli asked anxiously.
"I'm sure he could spare some time to talk to you," I laughed, "You speak of him like he's some famous general who would have a million things to do. He's a shopkeeper's boy."
"He's just, I don't know," Eli said, embarrassed, "He's amazing, Liza. He can fight, he's a full member of the Sons, he's good with girls, and he has his apprenticeship."
"Zeb is Zeb," I laughed. "Yes, he's a great young man, but everyone has their flaws. I'm sure he has time to talk to you right now though, so let's go to my place."
"Alright," Eli said. "I'll just leave a note for Mr. Edes saying where I went."
He scratched something down on a little scrap of  paper and got up. We walked out into the square cautiously.
"You know," I said as we started walking towards my father's store, "You're a pretty interesting person, Eli. I'll never forget that day where Isaac lost his family but you got those redcoats away from the property by having them chase you as you rode on multiple horses! That was amazing!"
"Thanks, but I've never been in a battle. That's my real dream, aside from writing of course," He said with a longing look in his hazel eyes.
"I've been in a battle," I said quietly. "It's not that great."
"I'm not expecting it to be nice," Eli said. "I just want to be one of the ones fighting directly. Look 'em in the eye and shoot 'em!"
"That may sound good now, but trust me, it doesn't feel good once you do," I said guiltily, remembering the soldier I had shot to save Zeb at Lexington.
"You seem to have more experiences than anyone your age, especially a girl, has ever had," Eli said jealously.
"That's not necessarily a good thing," I said solemnly. "Would you like to watch your best friend suffer so much and see people killing each other ruthlessly on a battle field?"
Eli pondered this for a moment. Then he said, an inspirational look in his eye, "That is what will win us our independence. I never said it would be fun or easy, but it's what I want to do."
I stayed quiet. "He doesn't know what he's saying," I thought silently.
"What if Zeb isn't here?" Eli asked.
"Maybe you can talk to my father. He's not a fighter, but he certainly has his opinions and he's a Son of Liberty," I said.
We approached my door.
"Will anyone be annoyed by me asking about a battle everyone is really touchy about?" Eli asked nervously.
"No," I smiled. "They'll have stories to tell that they want everyone to hear."
I opened the door to the store and showed him in. "Zeb!" I called.
He popped up from behind the counter. "Right here! Oh! Eli! How are you? What are you doing here?"
"Oh I'm good and I-" he stopped and blushed. Then he took on a more serious and professional tone, "Eli Clark, Boston Gazette. I'm writing an article on the battle on Bunker and Breed's Hills. I'd like to ask you a few questions."
"Alright, ask away," Zeb said cheerfully.
"What's your rank in the forces?" Eli asked.
"Just an infantryman. I'm a volunteer minuteman," Zeb said.
"Who were you serving under?" Eli asked.
"Colonel Prescott," Zeb said.
"So, were you stationed on Bunker or Breed's hill?" Eli asked.
"Bunker, but I went over to Breed's with Doctor Warren," Zeb said, slightly uneasily.
"I'm sorry, am I being to much?" Eli asked, sensing Zeb's discomfort.
"Of course not, I can tell about the battle if you need an eyewitness," Zeb said quickly.
"Alright, I'll try not to be too invasive," Eli said.
"No, no, you're fine," Zeb said graciously.
"So, how would you describe the beginning of the battle?" Eli asked.
"Well, from what I could tell from Bunker Hill, The British had our little militia horribly outnumbered, and of course they were better equipped. We were all a bunch of volunteers with little to no training and mainly hunting guns. We did have 6 cannons, but 5 out of 6 were taken when the British took the hills. Anyway, the beginning of the battle," Zeb began, "We had been building fortifications all night. Doctor Warren rode up, looking like a hero. He had been appointed a major general, but he refused command and wanted to serve as an ordinary foot soldier."
"That's very admirable," Eli said sort of dreamily, then he snapped back to reality. "Continue."
"Soon the British unloaded their ships and there were so many troops. They marched on Bunker hill, where we all were. Some men wanted to fire on the troops as soon as possible, but someone said this: 'Hold your fire until you see the whites of their eyes!'"
"Could you repeat that quote so I can write it down?" Eli asked.
"Of course," Zeb said, "Hold...your...fire...until...you...see...
the...whites...of...their...eyes," Zeb said slowly.
"That's an interesting quote," Eli observed as he scratched it down. "Continue with your story."
"The ordinary guns we militia men had only held 5 shots, so we all needed to watch carefully and make every shot count. After fighting for a while, the British ordered some of their troops to go take Breed's hill, because it was less protected. Doctor Warren asked for some volunteers to go over and defend the hill with him, so I went without question. We snuck over without attracting too much attention. Doctor Warren kept fighting. When one man ran out of ammunition, the Doctor gave up his whole powder horn! Soon almost everyone was out of bullets, so he ordered us to retreat. He offered to cover it himself, but there was no way I could let him do that, so I stayed behind with him. After two shots, I was out, and he told me to run. The British were approaching fast and firing furiously, but I refused to go. Once he ran out of shots, he gave up on firing and started to run. I followed him, but suddenly it happened." Zeb looked as if he really did not want to talk about it anymore, and honestly, I knew what happened and didn't care to be reminded.
"What happened?" Eli asked.
"A British musket fired nearby. A ball hit Doctor Warren in the head, and he died instantly. I'll admit, I screamed like a little kid afraid of the monsters under the bed when it happened. I wanted to get his body, but it was complete chaos and I couldn't reach it and still survive. That's my battle story I guess."
"Thank you for talking to me, Zeb. I'm really sorry about the doctor. This should really help with my article," Eli said. "I ought to be going. See you all later!"
"Bye, Eli!" I called. "You're article is going to be great, I just know it."
"Bye," Zeb said.
We watched Eli make his way down the wharf headed back towards the Gazette building.
"Well, that was a reflective time for me, I guess," Zeb said quietly.
"Is it painful to talk about?" I asked, concerned.
"Of course, but I feel like I benefitted from that chance to tell about it. You see, I'd been avoiding even thoughts of the battle, but now I've come to more terms with what has happened. I don't like it, but I feel even just a little more at peace with it," Zeb said.
"Do you want some help here in the store?" I asked.
"Yeah, actually. Could you take those bags of oats and refill the barrels?" Zeb asked.
"Sure," I said.
I went over to the bags and picked one up. It was a lot heavier than I expected. It actually felt like more than half my weight. I was able to lift  it, but it wasn't easy. I dragged the bag across the floor to the oat sale barrels. I untied the bag and lifted it over the barrel. I turned it upside down and the oats spilled into the already half full barrel. I tied the bag back up and was able to carry it back over to the pile of other bags.
"Anything else you want me to do?" I asked.
"Not really," Zeb said, "Maybe open the windows. It's hot in here."
"Well, it is mid-June," I said, unlocking the windows.
"Have you talked to Isaac today?" I asked.
"No, not today," Zeb said. "I know you're mad at him, but is he alright?"
"He still can't walk too well, but he can stand up now. His arm has healed at least a little, I assume. The thing I worry about is his cockiness. He has so much self confidence that he almost hurts himself," I said, reflecting on everything we had done together.
"I'm sure he's out back," Zeb said. "Playing with squirrels."
Just then my baby brother Ben ran into the store.
"Liza, if you're home from work, you might as well keep an eye on that baby!" My mother hollered front he next room.
"Alright, Ma," I called, taking the baby in my arms.
"You think he wants some candy?" Zeb asked playfully.
Ben beamed at Zeb as he got the jar out from behind the counter.
"One piece probably wouldn't hurt," I laughed.
Ben laughed and clapped as Zeb reached and got a piece of peppermint from the jar. Zeb got a playfully alert look in his eyes and twirled the candy around in a circle before the baby's eyes before popping it into its mouth.
"Ever think it would be nice to go back to being that small?" Zeb asked.
"Absolutely," I smiled. "The worst thing in life was not having your Ma right there when you wanted her."
"I never had my Ma right there when I wanted her," Zeb reminded me.
"Oh, right," I said, turning red. "I'm sorry."
"No, no, it's fine. I've come to terms with it," Zeb said with a sad smile.
"I'm still sorry," I said quietly.
"You're family has been like my parents," Zeb said. "And you've always been like a little sister to me. That's part of the reason why I can't imagine marrying you."
"Hey, we agreed we won't go through with that," I reminded him. "No need to even think about it."
"Avoiding it won't be easy," Zeb said. "And I'm not even allowed to see Penelope."
"Don't give up on her, Zeb. I'm sure we'll figure something out and you'll be able to be happy with her." I said hopefully.
"Don't get your hopes up. I won't," Zeb said tersely.
The rest of the afternoon and evening seemed to pass quickly, and after a while everyone had gone to bed. I snuck out to see Isaac, but when I looked under the porch, he was gone! I checked all around the yard. He was nowhere to be found. I panicked. There wasn't a trace of him anywhere. Had he been captured? Or was he off in some shop or restaurant? I decided to check the tavern next door. I tiptoed around the house and approached the tavern door. It was bustling inside, busier than I had ever seen. There was smoke in the air all around and loud shouting and talking everywhere. The men there looked rough and shifty. I could see now why my mother never wanted me to come in here, especially at night. A man gave me a strange look that made me feel uncomfortable. I could not show I was vulnerable though, so I straightened myself and avoided eye contact with everyone. I walked a little further into the tavern and heard a familiar voice.
"Yep, orphaned at 15! British burned my family home! I can't stand those bastards! That's the main reason I joined up!"
"A cripple like you on the battlefield, boy?" Someone scoffed. "Your mama must have had high hopes for you!"
"Ignore him, son," another man said. "You sound like a good kid. You got an apprenticeship?"
"I did! Shopkeeper! But I lost that. Can't work in that business as a crip. Also, I joined up without his permission, so he let me go. Every burden, every disadvantage I've learned to manage. I don't have a gun to brandish, I walk these streets famished."
"Isaac!" I thought to myself.
"What's your name, son?" The man who had asked about the apprenticeship asked.
"North," Isaac said loudly, "Isaac North. You, sir?"
"Paul. Paul Jackson," the man said. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"That would be nice," Isaac said. "Thanks."
"Oh no," I thought.
Paul passed me on his way up to the counter. He bought two giant mugs of Sam Adams beer. Isaac's eyes lit up when he came back to the table and handed him a mug.
"You drink much, boy?" The other man sitting with Paul asked.
"Not much. You see, the shopkeeper I worked for was a real religious man who was real big on keeping his daughter away from too much drinking and bad stuff," Isaac said without a care. "Hell, he let me go because he thought I was a bad influence."
"Well, the real clean cut boys your age wouldn't be caught dead in a joint like this, late as it is," Paul laughed. "But I guess I can't blame you for coming in to have a bite to eat. So, you're all for this revolution?"
"Absolutely," Isaac said, chugging his drink. "It's real nice to have some likeminded company here!"
"It's nice to see young people so passionate about it!" Paul laughed. "The country we hope to build will be yours anyway."
"Yes, and I hope to get in there when it all happens," Isaac said. "Man, if my friends knew where I was right now-"
"One does!" I shouted, stalking up to the table.
"L-Liza?" Isaac gasped in disbelief.
"This your girlfriend?" Paul asked with a sly smile.
"No," Isaac said, "She's just a friend!"
This stung me, but I didn't let that show.
"What are you doing in a tavern, this late at night?!" I demanded.
"The more important question is, what are you doing in a tavern at all?!" He shot back.
"I could ask the same to you," I snapped.
"Liza, go home. You're parents won't want you in here with me!" Isaac shooed me away.
"What's that you're drinking?" I asked, taking a sip. "Sam Adams? Quality. But we've only had beer once, ever! Don't you think you could get sick from it? Especially such a big mug!"
"It's none of your business what I do! I'm not under your father's control!" He said, taking another swig of his drink.
"Isaac, come home!" I demanded.
"No," he said plainly, taking a giant gulp of his drink.
"No?" I asked angrily. "Isaac North, you do not say no to me!"
"Who are you? My ma?" He asked, annoyed.
"Your friend who cares about your well being!" I snapped.
"Don't worry, little girl. Your boyfriend is in good hands here!" Paul laughed.
"You bought a 15 year old a giant bet mug," I pointed out. "Great judgment!"
"Hey, kid hasn't eaten in forever!" Paul said.
"I bring you supper every night!" I shouted.
"Yes, and I'm grateful," Isaac said quietly. He pulled me aside. "'Scuse us," he muttered to Paul and his friend. "Liza, seriously what are you doing?"
"I was looking for you to bring you home! I was worried when I saw you weren't under the porch!" I cried.
"Well, you...you really should learn to trust me!" Isaac snapped. "These men here can help me enlist in the army and start my military career! They can help me get my life back! Don't screw this up for me!"
"Isaac, you can't enlist like this!" I said, motioning to his crutch.
"But I'll get better," he pressed. "And I don't have my shop apprenticeship anymore, so I don't have a set career! When I don't have a family, I need to fend for myself. Grow up! Be independent! Why not fight for my independence from a king? There's nothing holding me back from that dream!"
"Really? You really think there is no one who cares enough about you to wants to help you?" I asked.
"Liza, you're overbearing and a little annoying and I wish you would just trust me on my own for once!" He snapped.
"I give you what you need!" I snapped back.
"I recommend going home before some man snatches you and wants things with you," He said.
"Not without you," I said.
"Liza, I can't go back there," he said with finality, taking another big swig of his drink.
"You're going to get so drunk!" I snapped. "Come on home! This isn't funny!"
"Maybe you should go, kid," Paul's friend said. "We'll meet up again, alright?"
"Paul?" Isaac asked.
"You should probably go home with your girlfriend, kid. You usually want to do what the ladies want," Paul said,?laughing.
Isaac sighed and followed me out of the tavern. "Why do you always have to spoil the fun?"
"Me? Spoil the fun?" I asked angrily, "I have done nothing but save your life over and over! I do not spoil fun!"
We walked into the back yard silently. He sat down under the porch and I went inside.
"Where was he?" Zeb asked when I got into the kitchen.
"Getting drunk in a tavern," I grumbled.
Zeb laughed.
"It's not funny! He'll get mixed up with the wrong people!" I snapped.
"Well, he's obviously alright now, why don't you go to sleep, Liza," Zeb said.
I walked into the children's bedroom and hopped over my sleeping siblings to my bed. It had been a long and frustrating day, but something big was about to happen.