Clockwiser (3 page)

“Is there a problem?” he said. He wore a blue jacket over grey pants, with a cap set crookedly on his head. He had one of those ugly handlebar mustaches, and he looked just like those wannabe actors who dressed in costume for the war enactments.

How did I know for sure they weren’t actors and this wasn’t just some kind of fantastic set up?

Except my sister wouldn’t pull a prank like this. She was too upright and uptight for that kind of thing. Plus, she wouldn’t go anywhere near my friends, so they couldn’t be part of this either.

It couldn’t be a bad drug trip because I hadn’t taken any drugs. Unless someone put something in my drink?

Except, I hadn’t been drinking.

Still, I studied my hands. They looked steady and real.

“Excuse me,” the soldier, or guy dressed as a soldier, said with a low, guttural voice. “Is everything all right?”

He turned towards Casey and I spotted an old musket gun hanging off his back. It only looked about ten years old, not a hundred and fifty.

I couldn’t stop staring at it. Its long, smooth wooden stock attached to the polished metal barrel was a thing of beauty. I’d give anything to be able to shoot it.

“We’re fine, sir,” Casey said, pushing her hair away from her face like that made her look older, or prettier or whatever.

The guy cleared his throat. “Son?” Seemed he didn’t like me staring at his gun.

“I want to sign up,” I said.

“What?”Casey squawked. “No he doesn’t!”

I ignored her panicked look. “Yes, I do.”

The soldier cleared his throat. “There’s a recruitment officer in the military camp nearest your town.”

She stepped in front of me. “I’m so sorry to have disturbed you. My brother can’t join the army. He’s not well. He... he has, uh, a learning disability.”

“Pardon me?” The officer’s bushy eyebrows lowered over his narrowing eyes.

Casey scowled at me. “He’s not right in the head.”

Oh, thanks, sis.

“Oh, well, in that case, we bid you good day, ma-am.” He nodded at me and turned to leave.

I was about to stop him again, but Casey pulled on my arm, almost jerking it out of the socket. “Ow.”

“Listen up,” she snarled. “This is my gig. I call the shots.”

She cracked me up with all her phoney intimidation. I made my eyebrows jump. “Ooh, scary.”

“You should be scared. And you need to be with me to get home.”

“Maybe I don’t want to go home.”

She shook her head, disgusted at me. As usual.

“You have no idea what it’s like to live here.” She counted off her fingers. “There’s no TV, no electricity, no running water
,
no internet
. You got what I’m saying? This is
no
picnic.”

Whatever. I had no choice but to follow her now. Despite the temptation to ditch her, I really didn’t know my way around. Yet.

She sure had a bee up her butt. I almost had to jog to keep up with her and her swishing skirt.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” I said. “That was dumb.”

“No kidding.”

The road we were stomping on was unpaved and unpopulated. The soldiers had disappeared ahead of us and the only thing I could tell for sure was that we were moving in an easterly direction.

“Where are we going?”

She slowed a little. “To the Watsons.”

“Like, actual people?”

“Yeah, like actual people.”

Casey wiped sweat off her brow with the long sleeve of her dress. She looked worn out and tired, but I felt like I was on fire, a helium balloon tied to the ground but reaching for the sky.

“What are we going to do when we get there?” I said, trying to restrain the spring in my step.

“Work,”

“Work?”

“Yes, work,” she said with an exasperated breath. “You know that thing you do for room and board. Oh, yeah, you don’t. Well, you’re in for a rude awakening. No free ride here.”

“Hey, I know how to work.” I worked delivering pizza on Saturday nights.

She huffed and shot me a look of doubt.

It felt like we walked forever, but at least the temperatures had dipped and I no longer had to keep pulling my clinging shirt from my damp chest. Eventually, we came to a farm. A big house sat in from the road with an American flag attached to one of the gables that flapped gently in the wind. Behind it were a barn and a small lake. A bunch of kids ran around the yard, and I spotted workers out in the fields.

“This it?” I said. Casey nodded stiffly. Seemed I still wasn’t forgiven.

Casey walked up the drive like she’d been there a dozen times. Maybe she had. She said she’d been doing this on and off for eight years. I still couldn’t wrap my head around this whole time travel story.

That was the stuff of science fiction.

Or maybe just science. I’d heard that it could be possible to shift time if you moved faster than the speed of light or fell into a wormhole or something.

I didn’t understand what happened with Casey or how it worked, but I couldn’t deny that my day to day surroundings had suddenly changed and in a big way.

A red-headed girl, a little older than Casey, was outside hanging clothes on a line. She wore a long dress similar to what Casey had on, and an apron. Another re-enactment actor? That was just as hard to believe as the notion we’d gone back in time.

When she spotted us, she dropped a shirt into a basket and walked our way.

“Cassandra?”

I glanced at Casey, questioning.

“That’s what they call me here,” she said under her breath. Casey embraced the red head, who looked a little embarrassed by her outburst of emotion.

“It’s been a long time,” the red head said.

“Yes, it has, but it’s so good to see you again, Sara,” Casey gushed. She finally remembered I was with her. “Oh, this is my brother, Tim, uh, Timothy.”

“You brought another brother?” Then to me. “Nice to meet you, Timothy.”

I wasn’t sure what behavior was expected of me. I just nodded my head and mumbled, “Thanks.”

Sara turned back to Casey. “Nathaniel isn’t with you this time?”

Nathaniel? That’s what they called Nate? I chuckled in my head. Then I registered the rest of her previous sentence. “He’s not her br...”

“Sara,” Casey cut me off. “It’s Timothy’s first time out of Springfield. He’s a little socially...” she lowered her voice, “awkward. Don’t mind him.”

“Very well,” Sara said throwing me a concerned look. “Come in for refreshments.”

It looked like the wide-opened back door led to the kitchen, if I could go by the long wooden table I spotted inside. Just as we were about to enter, we ran into a girl about my age. She also wore a long dress, but she filled it out in a way that made her look hot. She resembled Sara but had long dark hair that hung in waves around her face. She gasped slightly when she saw me, but then her eyes smiled.

“Josephine, you remember Cassandra?” Sara said. She motioned to me. “And this is another one of her brothers, Timothy.”

“Hello,” she said shyly. My heart skipped a beat. I flashed her a lopsided grin, aware that my purple eye just added to my bad boy appeal. She smiled in return, her eyes sparkling in the way that confirmed a mutual interest.

Things had suddenly taken an interesting turn here in the past. I thought I just might like hanging out at the Watsons’ after all.

Chapter Five

CASEY

“Josephine?” I said, trying not to stare at her ample breasts that had sprouted sometime in the last year. “Wow, you’re all grown up.”

“Hello, Cassandra.”

I wasn’t the only one staring. I saw the glint in Tim’s eye, and I gave him a sharp elbow nudge as we followed Sara into the kitchen. Wherever Josephine had intended to go, she’d changed her mind and followed us back in. I still couldn’t believe her transformation. She was at least fifteen by now. Younger than Tim, but judging by the eager look on his face, he wasn’t too concerned about that.

Dumb hormones. Now I have
that
to worry about, too. Tim was already proving to be way more trouble than Nate ever was.

The kitchen still had the lingering sweet scent of breakfast. I sat at my usual spot on the back side along the long wooden table, with Tim weirdly in Nate’s old place. Sara opened the chrome door of the wood fire stove and stoked the orange embers that remained. She touched a kettle on the top and deemed it to be hot, then poured the water into a teapot.

Josephine busied herself by providing a plate of biscuits; but she didn’t hide the fact that she was stealing glances at Tim as well. Tim was also being too bold, and I kicked him under the table. He grunted.

Other younger Watson kids of various sizes with either dark or red hair ran through the kitchen with Mrs. Watson on their heels. “Get outside,” she said. “It’s too nice to be indoors.”

She stopped when she saw me. “Why hello, Cassandra.” Mrs. Watson was a petite woman with a salt and pepper bun at the back of her head. She’d had her tenth child, Daniel, over a year ago and I’d had the surprising experience of helping Sara deliver him.

“Hi, Mrs. Watson,” I said with a smile, “How are you?”

“Good, all things considered, what with this terrible war going on.”

Which reminded me of Willie, the oldest Watson son. I waited for Sara to join us with the tea and once we’d all been served and the sugar passed around, I asked about him.

“Willie’s here, actually,” Sara said. “He’d been injured at Shiloh, but he’s now nearly fully recovered.” She sighed. “So many men died in that battle. Willie was part of the re-enforcement regiment that came the second day and forced the Confederates back.”

I felt myself let go of a long breath. I hated that he’d been injured but I was relieved to hear he was okay. “I can’t wait to see him again.”

“I’m sure he feels the same way,” Mrs. Watson said. She smiled sadly. “Now that he’s well again, they’ve sent notice that he must return to his regiment.”

Sara turned to her sister. “Josephine, go fetch Willie from the barn.”

Josephine’s smile turned to a pout. “Why should I have to? Ask one of the children to do it.”

Mrs. Watson gave her daughter a stern look. “Go on. It’ll only take you a minute.”

Josephine barely concealed her huff, waves of dark hair bouncing on the back of her cotton dress. I took in Tim’s smirk and shook my head.

“It’s been a real bee hive of activity around here, since the war started,” Sara said. “Boston is full of soldiers coming and going from their tours, and business in town is booming. Is it like this in Springfield?”

I nodded lightly. “Um, yes, but...”

“Has Nathaniel enlisted? Is that why you brought Timothy this time?”

“Um, yes.” I supposed this was as good of a story as any. Thankfully, Tim kept his mouth shut, but I could tell by the way his eyebrows arched that he’d be asking questions later.

Willie and Mr. Watson came through the door like a blast of wind. Willie was a younger, thinner version of his dad, but both had bushes of red curls on their heads and wide smiles on their faces. Behind them was a dark haired boy I recognized as another Watson kid, Duncan.

“Cassandra! So good to see you.” I stood in greeting, and Willie took my hand, lifting it quickly to his lips.

“So good to see you, too,” I said. “And that you are still alive and well.”

Willie, Duncan and Mr. Watson moved their chairs noisily and sat.

“Us too,” Mr. Watson said, his voice booming in the large room “We are grateful to God that our boy is back safe and sound.”

“For now,” Willie said, stirring his tea. “I must leave again shortly.”

“When, exactly are you leaving?” Tim said, out of the blue.

“Four days,” Willie answered. “And you are?”

“Oh, sorry,” I jumped in. “This is my brother, Timothy.”

“Another brother,” Willie said. “Great to meet you. Good timing as Father will need an extra hand when I leave.”

“Yes, indeed,” Mr. Watson said. Tim only nodded. Boy, was he in for a surprise come morning when the rooster crowed.

If we were still here.

I really hoped we weren’t still here. I needed to get Tim back home where Mom and Dad could stress over him, not me. And I already missed Nate, though he’d never even notice I was gone.

The playful staring going on between Tim and Josephine was starting to make me ill, but then the table conversation settled on the war.

“The Confederate Army is proving to be more resilient that we’d originally thought,” Mr. Watson said.

Willie took a sip of his black coffee and agreed. “The Union made a significant error in judgement, completely underestimating their determination. The Confederates are like a dog with a bone. They are not going down without a fight.”

“But will they be defeated?” Mrs. Watson questioned, her brow wrinkled with worry. “How long will this dreadful war go on?”