Time Traveler's Mistake [on hold]

Chapter Eight

Ben gasped in horror. "What if- what if they want to burn me alive? "

"Ben!"

Startled, Ben blinked at Mr. Patterson.

"What?"

"Look, no one's getting burned alive, ok? So you can cross that off your huge list of worries. And also, I'm not leaving you because I want to. I would never leave you anywhere on your own"

Ben opened his mouth to object, but Mr. Patterson cut him off.

"Willingly. The point is, I have to leave you. I can't ignore an urgent mission call"

Ben sighed in defeat. "What's so urgent about this mission of yours anyway?"

Mr. Pattersons gaze darkened.

"I can't tell you"

Ben looked up at him in surprise. "What do you mean you can't tell me?"

The man Ben once thought he knew looked away.

"I'm sorry. I truly am. But....I have to go" Mr. Patterson said, his face carrying a pained expression.

Frustrated, Ben stood up.

"Ok. Fine. Leave me alone here right after you tell me how dangerous time travel can be. Cool. Whatever. I guess I'll just adapt to the time period like all time travelers do! I'll just pop out some 19th century clothes out of my behind and we're all set!" Ben cried out sarcastically.

Mr. Pattersons face brightened.

"Actually, that's a great idea!"

Ben blinked.

"Wait, you know I was just kidding about the clothes, right? My behind can't actually pop out clothes"

Mr. Patterson stood up and bruhed himself off.

'I know you were joking. But I'm serious" he said, his face straight.

Ben rolled his eyes. "Ha, and I'm Harry"

Mr. Patterson gave him a look.

"Ya know..Serious, Sirius. From ....Harry Potter" Ben explained.

Pause.

"Ugh, nevermind! Where am I supposed to find old clothes anyways?"

Mr. Patterson snorted. "Not find, Ben. We're going shopping"

****************

"I still don't know how you convinced me to do this" Ben muttered as he and Mr. Patterson crouched below something.

After Mr. Patterson had lectured Ben about the 'staying invisible' and the 'making sure you're not seen' stuff, they cautiously walked out of the cemetery. When they passed the last tombstone, Ben felt like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders.

Currently, they were ducking under a two barrels next to a rusty old barn, surrounded by white fences and goats. Lots of goats.

Ben was plugging his nose. Who knew historical farming sites smelled so bad?

While they were hiding in the shadows of the two barrels, Ben observed the 19th century landscape and scenery.

Ben knew he wasn't looking at the whole scene, but what he saw from behind his barrel was enough to make his jaw drop.

All the known photos of Gettysburg back in the 21st century were captures of dull black and white images, but the image in front of him was anything but dull.