Patriots: New York

Chapter Three: A Man in Uniform

It had been about a week since I had left for New York. I hoped Eleanor had not leaked where I was. I knew that she was worried about me and would want a letter, so one night after closing up the tavern I sat down by candle light at a table to write one.
Dear Water,
   I began.
I made it to New York a few days ago. It was a bit of an adventure getting here, but I made it alright. I found a job and a place to stay. I have met some interesting people, mainly soldiers in the Continental army like Zeb and Isaac and Uncle Tad. I want to know how things are going at home. Did you tell Amaka? How did Ma and Papa react to my leaving? How about Zeb? Is he coming out to New York soon? I know I have made a crazy decision by running away, but I am alright. I hope you are alright and holding up our secret. I think about you and the family everyday and miss you terribly, but I need to be here until things simmer down so that I do not get stuck in a life neither Zeb nor I want. Please write back to me. Just address your letters to The Bradford Street Tavern. I hope to hear from you soon.
With love,
Fire
I folded the paper up and took a bit of sealing wax from Mr. Walden's drawer in the dining room. He probably would not be angry if I used it. I stamped the letter with the sealing wax and tiptoed to the mailbox. I then changed into my nightgown and went to sleep.
  In the morning I woke up and dressed in my same dress I had worn everyday since I gotten to New York. I realized that I had been wearing this dress for two years and it had gotten a little short, as I had grown a little. The dress used to drag on the ground, but now it was barely covering my ankles. It was not all from growth though. It had been torn numerous times while working long, hard days at the Harold home. I also looked down and realized that it was rather disgusting. The skirt was covered in stains of blood, not all my own, soot, dirt, dust, and wine that I had spilled the day before. There were also multiple tears in it. I really needed a new work dress, but I did not have the money to spend. I had my light blue frock that had also been through a lot, but I did not want to risk that getting ruined. If I ever got invited somewhere nice or had a day off from work, I might wear it, but right now I was only working.
   I really felt uncomfortable about my dress when I went downtown and saw General Schuyler's girls. The way boys would drool over them got me a little jealous as time went by, and it made me miss my friends. I was never sought out for that kind of affection from either of them, let alone strangers, but it was nice to have those people who cared so much about me.
  This day Eliza actually looked at me and smiled. I assume she recognized me from everyday, and this made me feel uncomfortable and a little embarrassed. I went downtown everyday to see the action and the firebrands shouting in the square, and the Schuyler girls were always there.
   It was interesting to see students from the university studying in on benches. Alexander had said something about going to college. It sounded interesting. I had been taught a lot at home, but had only heard of my father going to college and studying business when he was in his teens. He had worked very hard to get a scholarship, because his family was very poor and could not pay. I had wanted to go to college, but now I knew I could not. They did not accept girls, I could never pay, and I had no time because of work. I still thought it would be interesting to study philosophy or medicine. That would be the best way I could help in the war. Doctor Warren had gone to college for medical education. I wanted to follow in his footsteps so badly, but there was no way I could go to college.
  I shook the thought from my mind and made my way back to Bradford Street to go back to work. I began the evening waiting tables like usual. Soldiers came, soldiers went. Something was different tonight though. Some of the soldiers had very smart looking, new blue and red and white uniforms. These were probably the soldiers of higher rank.
   I saw Alexander sitting at a table with another man. It was nice to see that he wasn't alone. The other man was a little older looking than he was.
  "Evening, sirs," I said with a smile as I handed them the two drinks Vincent told me were their's.
  "Evening, Liza," Alexander said.
  "You know the barmaid?" His companion asked.
  "Yes, indeed. She and I had a little chat the other night," he said with a wink at me.
  I felt a little uncomfortable at this point.
  Alexander kept talking, "Did you have a look at Farmer Refuted?"
  His friends chuckled, "Alexander, don't be ridiculous. You gave a barmaid a copy of one of your old pamphlets? What is she going to get out of that? It's not like she can even read it..."
  "I can read," I spoke up quickly. "I really enjoyed it, Alexander. It was very well written."
"Why, thank you," He said proudly. "I'm glad you thought so. I guess you should probably meet my friend Hercules Mulligan. He is a tailor whom I used to live with. He's in the city visiting me."
  "Nice to meet you, Mr. Mulligan," I said politely.
  "Nice to meet you too," he laughed.
"Anything more I can get you gentlemen?" I asked.
"No, we are fine. We'll say goodbye on our way out. We don't want to be a bother and hold up your work," Alexander said.
"Why, Alexander! You are not going to hold her up going on and on about your writings and politics?" Mr. Mulligan asked jokingly.
"No, I'm not a self absorbed ass," Alexander laughed.
"Oh no. Not at all," Mr. Mulligan teased.
I smiled and nodded awkwardly and walked away to the next few tables. I worked and worked that night. Alexander and Mr. Mulligan said goodbye as they were walking out. There was one final table left that night. I was tired, and rather uninterested. I just wanted to get the job done so I could go to bed.
"Evening, gentlemen," I said, carrying their tray of drinks. "Can I get you anything else?"
"I'll take some a little but of bread and butter, actually," A familiar voice said.
I didn't look up from serving the drinks. "Coming right up, sir." I began to walk to the kitchen.
"Wait!" The familiar voice said, sounding urgent.
I stopped in my tracks. I turned around slowly. Could it be who I thought it was?
"Liza?"
Good Lord! Who was the handsome young man in a nice, pressed, new blue army uniform with red lining, bronze buttons, and a white shirt with the striking blue eyes and sleek black hair?
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" His flustered voice boomed at me as I stood dumbfounded. Yes, it was Zeb.
"Hello, Zeb. How are you this fine evening?" I tried with a smile, trying to conceal a nervous laugh.
  He stood there gaping at me for a few seconds before I tried scurrying back to the kitchen. He quickly got up from his seat and caught me by the waist. The other young men sitting at the table with him looked slightly amused and slightly disturbed.
"What are you doing here? In New York! In this place!" He said, almost angrily.
"Working. What does it look like?" I sassed.
"What were you thinking coming here? How did you get here? How did you get this job?" He bombarded me with questions.
"I was thinking that if I hadn't come here I would be Mrs. Zebulun Morris by now and you would be miserable! I got cheap passage on a ship that was New York bound, and I got this job because I asked the nice gentleman who owns this place. Does that answer your questions?" I asked, smiling through my annoyance at the awkwardness of this situation.
  "You know your parents have been worried sick! Your Uncle Tad searched every inch of Boston for you. He eventually moved on to New York..."
Damn it all! If Uncle Tad knew I was here, he would not keep it a secret from my parents!
Zeb continued, interrupting my thought, "I took Eleanor over the the Harold's to look for you there. The master of the house was shocked, the mistress was outraged, and the daughter did not seem to care. Your friend who is the cook just about had a panic attack when we told her you were gone. Then Eleanor whispered something to her and she calmed down. What did little Ellie know that I didn't?!"
I sighed, "I told her where I was going. Someone had to know."
"So you told her but you did not tell me, your fiancé?!" Zeb demanded.
"Wait...Morris...the barmaid was your fiancé?" One of the young men from the table laughed.
"Long story," Zeb snapped. "Liza..."
  "You're too good, Zeb," I said quietly but with an edge to my voice. "You're too honest and always tell the truth to my parents even when it should not be told."
  "That is really what you think?!" He yelled.
"Good god, man, lower your voice!" I snapped. "I did this for you!"
"Liza,  it...I...no...it was very wrong! You have made a big mistake!" He sputtered.
  "Why? What choice did I have? We were to be married! Give up our freedom! What would be the point of fighting this war if we still wouldn't be free!" I pressed.
He stayed silent for a moment before speaking up, "You should tell your parents where you are."
"No, not now," I said quickly. "I'm just happy to see you."
"I'm happy to see you too," he
softened, "It's a relief to know you're alright."
"It's a relief to know you're alright too," I sighed. "It's hard having you both at war."
"We'll be alright. However, I could stand to make some extra money because the army does not pay. Do you think you could get me a job here? Only one shift once in a while," He said.
  "Mr. Walden could probably give you the dinner shift. He takes that one himself," I said.
"Great, thank you so much," he said gratefully. He looked he over from head to toe. "Liza," he said, looking a little worried. "You're still very short."
I laughed, "Tell me something I don't know! I'm glad you are still making fun of me for being short though. It's just like old times."
He didn't seem amused, "You haven't grown. You've gotten thin."
"And that's a problem because..." I did not understand why he seemed worried.
"You look really pale," he said.
"Well, it is only April, Zeb. What do you expect?" I asked.
"Your dress has turned to rags," he observed, continuing his list of things he did not like when he looked at me.
"I know, it's been my work dress forever," I sighed. "I haven't time to make a new one, or money to buy material."
"Have you been eating enough?" He asked.
"Enough," I answered shortly. I ate a very small dinner and a few scraps of supper everyday, so it was not much, but it did not bother me.
He grabbed my hand. It was cold and shaking, a common thing nowadays. "Liza, I'm a little worried. Why are you trembling?"
"I just haven't eaten much today," I said, blushing. I will admit, maybe I should have eaten more. I felt very dizzy. "Has the room stopped spinning...anyway..."
"Your mother would have a fit if she saw how you were living!" He exclaimed.
"We're going to go now, Zeb, if that's alright," a young man from the table said.
"I'll catch up with you later," Zeb said. "Leave a nice tip, will you?"
"As much as I can, you know I'm broke," the young man mumbled. He slapped a few coins down on the table and walked out.
"Zeb, I'm fine. You don't have to worry," I said, trying to assure him.
  "You don't seem fine. This isn't any place for a little girl to be working long nights and living. Your clothes are a mess, you're really thin, you're pale, you honestly seem sick!" He was not assured.
"I'm fine, Zeb, honest," I protested again and decided to change the subject. "You certainly look nice in your uniform. So grown up, so official."
"Thank you, but we were talking about you," he said, catching me.
I sighed, "I've been a little sick, but I can not afford to stay in bed all day. I have work and I need to pay rent."
"I admire your independence, Liza, but this is crazy!" Zeb said, shaking his head.
"There are many girls my age who work," I said. "I am lucky to have a good job."
"Well, yes, I would assume to alternative job would probably be prostitution, but still, you seem to be fading," He said concerned.
"Zeb, I am alright. I promise. I have not given up and given in to what is expected for a 15 year old girl and I do not plan on starting anytime soon," I said strongly.
"Alright," he sighed. "If you really say so. If you could talk to the owner of this place and get me a job that would be great. I have to go back to camp for the night. Good night, and go to bed."
"Goodnight, Zeb," I said as he left slowly.
  He had brought up everything I was trying to ignore. It was true, I was not in the best place for a girl my age to be, but I was making it by. I liked running my own life and being independent. Besides, independence was what we were all fighting the war for. Being in the midst of the action again and having friends nearby brought back a bit of light in my life.