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The Dog Who Ate The Flintlock

Page 18

by Edward Coburn


  “Well, this is a revolutionary war reenactment, so maybe they thought they could take Liberties with the facts.”

  Now Adam frowned at her. “Come on. That pun was beneath you. And you an English teacher. For shame.”

  “But I’m not a history teacher,” she said.

  “After that pun, I’d say that’s a good thing.”

  “Shall we look at what they have?” Marti said, ignoring him and beginning toward the booth selling funnel cakes.

  “Go right ahead,” Adam said. “But I think I’d better head over and meet up with my group.”

  She turned back to face Adam scanning the parking lot as she did so. “That’ll be okay. But why don’t you call Larry and see if he’s here? I’ll call Judy to see if she’s here. As I mentioned before, she and I are supposed to meet to look around, but we didn’t know what would be here so we had no idea where we could meet other than in the parking lot. Therefore it might be nice to know where they’re parked if they made it.” She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Judy’s number while Adam pulled out his phone and dialed Larry.

  “Larry,” Adam said, “did you make it to the reenactment?”

  Larry and Judy had just arrived in Bearcave. Larry immediately noticed the same signs Adam had. “I’m in Bearcave at the moment following the signs. Are you there already?” Larry heard Judy answer her cell phone as well.

  “Am I where?” Adam asked knowing full well where Larry meant.

  “Must you start with the wise guy act so early in the morning?” Larry said with a frown already plastered all over his face.

  “I don’t know what you could possibly mean,” Adam said as innocently as he could manage.

  “I’m not in the mood to banter words with you. My car wouldn’t start this morning so we had to take Judy’s car and I’m not a happy camper.”

  “I didn’t know we were going to camp out,” Adam joked, referring to his historical location and the living conditions the soldiers probably had to endure. He knew even though modern people look at camping as an adventure, they can pack up and go home if camping gets tiring, they get too cold, they run out of food, or the kids or the adults get bored. The revolutionary soldiers had no such options.

  “All right, enough,” Larry said. “I’ll call you when I get to the reenactment.”

  “Okay, you old grouch,” Adam said before he hung up. He saw Marti also hang up her phone.

  “They’re in Bearcave right now,” Marti said.

  “Yeah, I know, but I need to go. Maybe you can meet them when they get here. Larry said he would call when they get here.”

  “Judy said the same thing. I’ll be happy to meet with them.”

  “Good. I don’t know if Larry had planned to go with me when I meet with my group, but I really can’t wait.” Adam glanced at his watch. “I’m right on time, but I wouldn’t want to miss anything by waiting for Larry.” Near a large thicket of trees to the north, a large number of men had gathered. They were wearing a wide variety of period costumes similar to what, according to Arnold’s research, the colonists had originally worn. Some were in uniforms, some in blue jeans and work shirts, and some were in buckskins similar to Adam’s. “I think I see my group over there.” He pointed where he’d been looking. “If Larry wants to be in the middle of the meeting, you can send him my way.”

  “I can do that,” Marti said as she watched cars arrive in the parking lot. “You go ahead, and I’ll wait here.”

  “That works for me.” Adam hurried away.

  Marti walked a short distance toward the booths glancing back at the parking lot as she did, not wanting to miss Larry and Judy when they arrived. She made sure she could still see the parking lot as she examined period jewelry at one of the booths.

  When Adam jogged up to the group of men portraying the colonists, he heard Ralph Morris, their elected leader, getting them in the spirit by announcing through a rolled up brochure he was using as a makeshift megaphone, “Hear ye, hear ye. All ye who love liberty, pick up your muskets and grab your bullet bag, flints, and powder horn and rally round. The British are coming! We must be ready.”

  There were many enthusiastic shouts from the assemblage of—“Liberty.”, “Let’s kill the red devils.”, “Drive them back to the sea.”, “Send them back to Britannia.”, and “Ready your muskets.”

  Adam smiled. He had to admit he was getting excited as well, even knowing it was all in fun which, of course, everyone else knew as well. Adam pulled out his notebook so he could jot down a few impressions of the proceedings.

  Ralph was giving them instructions about the battle they were about to face against their British, Indian, and loyalist opponents. Ralph explained again how they were to charge out of the woods toward the British line when they heard the first musket shot, then kneel, fire a volley, and reload as quickly as they could. They had drawn lots at their last meeting to choose who was to lie down as if dead during each phase of their eventual victory. Ralph took the opportunity to remind them of their obligation to die at the appropriate time to preserve as much historical accuracy as possible even considering their numbers weren’t as large as the original force of colonists that fought during the war. Arnold had informed Ralph that Adam was exempt from the drawing since Adam needed to be on his feet observing and taking notes throughout the battle. “Be careful where you die,” Ralph said with a wink, “Unless you want to be picking briars out of your costume and hide all afternoon.” Several men laughed softly while one guffawed loudly and punched the guy next to him in the arm.

  “What if we’re in a hazardous spot when the British fire their volley?” A man, who Adam knew as Sam, asked.

  “Use your imagination,” Ralph said. “I’d say simply stagger a bit as if mortally wounded, but not yet dead until you can find a better spot to die.”

  “Ah, don’t be a wimp,” Someone else said. “Just die already.” At this, several more people yelled, “Wimp.”

  “All right, that’s enough,” Ralph said. “Let’s take up our positions to be ready when we hear the first shot.”

  “Yes sir,” several of the men chorused, and some men saluted sharply as everyone moved off to their assigned positions.

  Adam put away the notebook in which he’d been jotting notes and walked to his assigned spot a bit nearer the parking lot. As he did so, his nose started itching again which led him to conclude something sinister was bound to happen. As he had said to Marti, his nose was seldom, if ever, wrong. He wished, not for the first time, he could force a vision to occur that would give him some insight into what was ahead. He was well aware, however, simply wishing would not give him a vision no matter how much he wanted one and the saying forewarned is forearmed really didn’t apply to the kind of situations he usually encountered when his only warning was his itchy nose. He had to be extremely vigilant during the reenactment so he might have a chance to stop something before it happened. He was already poised to be observant because he was at the reenactment to report on it for the Tweet, but now he had even more reason to be watchful.

  As he loaded his flintlock for the first volley, Larry walked up. “A good morrow to you sir,” Adam said continuing to ready his flintlock.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Larry said obviously still upset about his car. “Is the battle about to begin?” He was gazing around the area with an idea toward initial impressions, his reporter instincts taking over.

  “Yeah,” Adam said. “We’re waiting for the first shot to indicate when to start our charge.” Adam glanced around, for probably the tenth time, trying to gauge the best vantage point for Larry to view as much of the battle as possible. “I think if you go over on the side of that small hill,” Adam said pointing, “you’ll be able to see most of the battle.”

  Larry peered where Adam pointed, shook his head, pointed to a different hillside and said, “I don’t agree. I think that hill will be better.”

  Adam shook his head. “You won’t have as good a view over there. The first volle
y is going to be in the field out there,” he pointed again, “but then the British are going to be running and will pivot around that hill. You won’t be able to see the second volley if you go to your spot. I think the best vantage point will be where I said.”

  “Okay,” Larry nodded. “I yield to your knowledge of the places where the battle will move. Obviously, you read the information better than I did and I didn’t attend any meetings like you did. But I suppose I’d better get moving if I don’t want to be in the middle of the fight.” Larry started toward the hill but turned back to Adam. “Did you notice the WCHS van in the parking lot?”

  Adam knew WCHS was a television station out of Charleston. “I didn’t. It might have arrived after Marti and I got here, but it’s not surprising they’re here. I would imagine this reenactment will be big news around here and may even be picked up by one of the news services.”

  “I suppose that’s true.”

  Suddenly they heard a loud whistle. “That’s the sound telling everyone the reenactment is about to begin and they need to clear the field,” Adam said.

  “Okay, I’ll see you later,” Larry hurried off.

  “Good idea, but please be especially vigilant.”

  “Why do you say that?” Larry turned and stared at Adam. “Are your spidey senses telling you something?” Larry was well aware of Adam’s special abilities.

  Adam didn’t appreciate his friend’s making light of his gifts but, for now, he’d let it pass. “In a manner of speaking. My nose was itching a few minutes ago.”

  “Uh oh. Have you seen anything?” Larry referred to the visions Adam sometimes got when his nose itched.

  “Unfortunately not. That’s why I asked you to be vigilant. I’m going to be especially watchful as well. I wish I could tell you what to watch for, but I have no more idea than you do.”

  Larry nodded thinking there may be more to their day than the reenactment itself. He hoped it wouldn’t be anything serious though he loved being in the middle of something that might generate copy for the Tweet. “Regardless. I’ll keep my eyes wide open and watch for anything the slightest bit suspicious,” he glanced at the hillside where people were gathering. “But I think I’d better go now if I want to be assured of some kind of vantage point.” Without another word, Larry hurried off to join the other people on the hillside where Adam had indicated.

  Adam grew increasingly restive anticipating the battle about to begin while wondering what was about to happen that nobody, including himself, expected. He definitely knew something unforeseen was about to happen, but he had no idea what that might be.

  Chapter 26

  Adam wondered what was taking the starter so long to fire the first shot when he realized people not part of the reenactment still wandered across the field where the first battle was to take place. Then he heard an amplified announcement asking everyone to please clear the grounds so the reenactment could begin. He idly thought amplifiers were not part of 1778 equipment, while he watched everyone in the area moving faster. One woman had to chase down a small boy that was running toward where Adam’s group of colonists waited. Adam guessed the boy’s father was one of their number. His pursuer caught the boy, lifted him into her arms, and hurried to the hillside near where Larry had positioned himself following Adam’s directions.

  Just as the last person stepped off the field, a shot rang out indicating the start of the battle. Adam did as instructed rushing forward and kneeling to fire his flintlock. Thirty or forty of the men portraying the British either fell or lay down gently as did ten or so of his group. A couple of other groups of colonists had joined Adam’s group on the field, and a number of them lay down as well. Adam’s next task was to reload as quickly as possible and rush the British position before kneeling halfway there and firing again. When he did so, another group of the British lay down as did a few more colonists when the British fired their return volley. Adam reloaded again and rushed the British position. The British broke ranks and fled as orchestrated. Adam and the rest of the colonists pursued the British stopping to fire approximately every hundred feet as instructed. When they did, a few more of the British fell while the more timid lowered themselves to the ground more gently.

  A few hundred yards farther on, the British stopped for their last stand beside a wide stream. The stream had been almost a river during the actual battle and the British decided they couldn’t cross the stream quickly enough to get away. Therefore, they turned to face the colonists. After Adam and the other colonists had reloaded and fired three times, the British still on their feet surrendered. Adam and his compatriots surrounded the British and marched them back to the field where the battle had begun.

  Mary had just gotten off the call with a distraught, elderly woman and marveled at how many people still regarded 911 personnel as their servants ready to order up services in their time of need—regardless of what that need should be. Mary had had one heck of a time convincing this lady she needed to call the fire department to get her cat out of the tree as well as to ward off the dog that had treed the cat and 911 would not and could not do it for her. Mary hated calls like that. She couldn’t help but feel sympathy for that lady and others who were distressed by happenings out of their control. Unfortunately, Mary worked with strict guidelines for which emergencies she was allowed to dispatch assistance and getting a cat out of a tree was not within those guidelines. Neither was ordering a hamburger restaurant to remake the customer’s order because the cook had put catsup instead of mustard on her hamburger. Mary had gotten that call yesterday. She was thinking about a couple of other non-emergency calls she had gotten today when her line rang again.

  “911, what’s your emergency,” Mary answered in the most neutral tone she could manage—hiding her frustration at not being able to help the previous caller and her errant cat.

  “I think he’s dead,” the man said, obviously upset.

  “Who’s dead, sir,” Mary said.

  “I don’t know who he is but there’s a lot of blood, and it looks like he’s been shot!”

  “Okay, hold on a second sir.”

  “Okay, but hurry please!”

  Mary hit a button on her telephone console that was a direct line to a dispatch officer at the Charleston police station. Sally, the dispatch officer, knew the call on that line was from the 911 center and picked up immediately.

  “I think we have a dead body,” Mary said. “He’s holding.”

  “Okay, I’ll get things started here,” Sally said, automatically turning on her recording device and signaling to one of the uniformed officers in the area who generally responded to 911 calls about gunshots. Harry picked up the 911 call line as well as did the officer sitting next to him who would call for an ambulance as soon as they had an address.

  “Okay, what’s your name?” Mary asked connecting again with her caller. The call was still connected to the police.

  “What does that matter? You need to call for some help.”

  “It’s in process, sir, but we need to know a few things before an ambulance can be sent.”

  “Oh, all right,” the caller said without giving Mary the time to tell him what she needed to know. “My name is Steven Abbot. What else do you need to know?

  “Did you say Abbot?” Mary asked pulling her pad of paper closer.

  “Yes.”

  “Would that be A B O T?” Mary read off her spelling of his name to him.

  “A B B O T with two Bs,” Steven said.

  “Got it. And where are you located, sir?”

  “I’m at the revolutionary war reenactment in Bearcave.”

  “Excuse me, sir, did you say the revolutionary war reenactment in Bearcave?” Mary hadn’t read the newspaper for the past few weeks and seldom watched the TV news because it always contained so much bad news and she had to deal with bad things all day long. Thus, she didn’t know of the reenactment.

  “That’s what I said. I’m on the first field of battle and, as I said, I thi
nk someone is dead. Now, will you please send someone?”

  “Hold for a moment sir,” Mary said and then connected with Sally again. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

  “I don’t,” Sally said looking directly at the other officers on the call. Harry acknowledged he was already calling the Bearcave deputy while the second officer was on the phone with the fire department search and rescue department. He was informed the fire department was in communication with an ambulance already in Bearcave covering the reenactment. He nodded to Sally to let her know an ambulance was being dispatched.

  “It’s all in process,” Sally said to Mary.

  “Okay, thanks,” Mary said as she switched back to Steven. She let him know what he should expect.

  Frank Jeffers was relaxing at his desk playing the new video game he’d bought for his son. He always tried them out first to be sure they weren’t too violent or too sexy. His son was only seven after all. At least that’s the excuse he used for playing the games first. He almost fell out of his chair when the phone rang dropping the controller as he picked up the handset.

  “Deputy Sheriff Jeffers,” Frank said. “What may I help you with?”

  “Hi Frank, this is Harry from Charleston,” Harry said. “We just got a call about a dead body at the revolutionary war reenactment that’s taking place there in Bearcave.”

  “Yeah, I know about the reenactment. Did you say someone reported a dead body?”

  “That’s the call we got.

  “Are you sure it’s not a prank. After all, a reenactment will have lots of supposedly dead bodies.”

  “I have no way of knowing that, but the caller seemed genuinely upset.

  “Okay, then. I’ll head out immediately.

  When they all got to the edge of the field, Adam found Bagel standing proudly holding a flintlock in his mouth that he had apparently knocked out of the hands of one of the British soldiers who was currently trying to retrieve his weapon. Bagel growled menacingly every time the Redcoat got near.

 

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