The Old Findings of a New Beginning

Chapter 3

It was a chaotic morning to say the least. Ann wouldn't stop fussing over them, like a mother over their child on the first day of school. She made sure they were full, and Charlie gave them some money and another change of clothes. After many goodbyes, the brothers finally made it out the door, into 1941.

As they were walking down the street, Matthew couldn't help but notice the huge difference between modern America and WWII America. As they continued on, they took note of the propaganda posters everywhere. Matthew walked up to one, ripped it off the pole it was currently attached to, folded it neatly and placed it in his bag with the same amount of precision. Seeing the questioning look he was earning from his brother, he might as was as explain his logic.

"Alfred," Matthew began in a tone that one would use when talking to a small child (which wasn't far from the truth) "how many legitimate propaganda posters do you see around? The one in the museums are more decayed than intact most are remodels. When we find a way to get back home, it would be nice to take a little bit of history back with us." After awhile of aimless wandering, a police man started approaching them. Seeing this, Alfred tugged his brother in the opposite direction, walking fast, trying to lose him, not wanting to deal with the police at the moment. As they started navigating the backstreets, the policeman started jogging after them, causing Al and Matt to do the same.

They didn't want to deal with the police right now, they had no identification and no papers of any kind, that would definitely raise an eyebrow or two. After a bit of the stupid police man stalking them, it had turned on to a full on sprint goosechase. They had taken a sharp left and were met with a brick wall. Turning around to retrace their steps, the path was blocked by the officer, who was now slowly stalking towards them, knowing full well he had caught them like a fly in a web. He had finally reached them, grabbed them by their arms, and started hauling them towards where they had originally came from.
"You kids are gonna have to come with me."

Before either brother knew it, they were in a crowded office with a bunch of other guys, all ranging from 18 to 45-ish.
"C'mere you two," a not-so-nice-looking guy at the desk said to them. Matthew, confused, looked around, then pointed to himself with a look that said 'Who, me?' "Yeah, you two that just came in, come on up. Don't worry, I don't bite." He said, flashing a smile that had too many teeth. Hesitantly, the brothers walked up to the desk, which looked like something from a pharmacy office. Upon reaching the desk, he asked their names, how old they were, where they were from, who were their parents, and what their business or profession was. Both knew that wouldn't be able to say they were 17, since that wasn't legal age to be living alone. Alfred went first.
"My name is Alfred F. Jones and I am 18 years of age, from Houston Texas, my parents are dead (they weren't alive yet), and I moved here to live with my brother." The man seemed satisfied with that answer, then turned to Matthew, expecting an answer.
"I'm...um, Matthew W-williams, and I am 18 f-from Canada. My parents are dead, and I came here to buy a house to l-live with my brother there." Matthew stuttered out, mentally cursing himself for being a bad liar. The guy raised an eyebrow up at him, but didn't question it. After he wrote the information down, he stood up and saluted them.
"Well boys," he began "Welcome to the draft."

"Wait what?" Alfred asked, he wasn't sure he had heard him right. Noticing this, the man spoke up.
"The draft. We recruit young people much like yourselves to join the war."
"What about you? Why aren't you in the draft?" Alfred shot back, annoyed that they got caught up in this military crap, knowing it wasn't going to end well for either of them.
"I'm too old for this military, so I do my own part by helpin' out around this dump." he replied lazily, handing them both two tickets. "Y'all can go now, just wait for a letter." He laughed as Al and Matt turned to get back out into the street, away from all of this madness. Al was half-tempted to go back to Charlie's house, but then stopped short. Charlie was a young man. Being a young man in this era meant you were in the draft. That could only mean...