Hello all wattpad readers,
So, um hi this is my very first 'authors note' or watever. I want to thank all of you for reading my book. I try every day to squeeze in sometime to spend on my book. I also want to thank the readers who voted for Time Travelers Mistake, I really appreciate it. Please feel free to comment!!
Enjoy the book!!!
heyhey800
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Chapter 8
Bens POV
Ben was walking through the vast hills of Gettysburg in 1863, hot, hungry, tired, and extremely flustered.
His sweaty ginger hair was plastered to his forehead while he walked past an old farm, the sun beating mercilessly down on his pale skin, which never gets tan. Ever. His body was definetly not built for this time period.
Wherever he walked, people working outside their houses, stared and whispered amongst each other.
Was he really that ugly looking?
The dull rocks of the bumpy road dug into his bare feet. The 19th century farmer boy outfit he was wearing didn't come with shoes.
Ben grimaced as something cold dripped down on his sunburned shoulder. Squinting his eyes, he looked up and saw a little boy peering out of a two story window of a farm he was passing, holding a watering can.
The little boy stared back down at him with his wide hazel eyes, his platinum blonde hair glinting in the sunlight. Ben raised his arm up painfully, and gave the little boy a small wave.
His chubby face broke into a wide grin and his sound of his tiny laughter twinkled away as the little boy turned back into his room.
Seconds later, a middle aged woman stuck her head out of the window, her eyes roaming the landsacpe until they landed on Ben. She smiled kindly down at him, until she seemed to notice something in his hair, and her smile melted.
Angrily, she turned back into her household, muttering something under her breath that sounded like, "Those damn Irish.." and something else Ben couldn't comprehend.
Why does everyone keep thinking he's Irish? What was wrong with these people?
That was the fifth time someone had called him an Irish today, and Ben figured that it probably won't be the last.
The tired and weary thirteen year old sighed and continued to trudge onwards in Gettysburg, seeking shelter that he may not find.
******************
5 hours earlier
"What do you mean you have to go?"
Ben and Mr. Patterson were sitting beneath a tall oak tree right next to the graveyard. Ben was giving Mr. Patterson a pleading, almost desparate look.
"You-you can't just leave me! I'm gonna be all alone! What, do you expect me to just survive on my own in a place I've never been to?"
Mr. Patterson grimaced. "I don't expect anything from you, Ben--"
"Not to mention, a different freaking time period! " Ben emphasized, ignoring Mr. Patterson.
"How do people talk in this time period? What if they get suspicious? What if--"
"Ben-"
"What if they find out that I'm a time traveler and decide to burn me?"
"Ben..."
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.
What historians would give to see all this.
Rolling hills of green lay before Ben, small farms and rickety houses dotted the landscape, white fences encompassing precious acres of land.
Clothes lines were hung between neighboring houses. Far off into the distance, masses of trees stand, tall and stubborn, with a wide stream running next to it, tumbling over rocks that lay in the middle.
A clear blue summers sky towered above all, spreading light throughout the land. It all seemed blissful and perfect--if you were looking at the view from a photo or a screen.
Because in the beginning of 1863 summer, it was hot. Blistering, scorching, hot.
Ben slowly tried to reach over to the back of his neck to wipe some sweat off, but was quickly stopped by Mr. Patterson, who swatted his hand away.
Ben gave him a confused look.
"I'm hot," he whispered.
Mr. Patterson shook his head.
"Your elbow could have been seen sticking out from behind the barrel and someone could have seen you!"
Ben looked around the vast, if otherwise deserted landscape.
"Who could have seen me?"
Mr. Patterson shifted his weight and pointed a pinkie at a tree next to a fence a few meters away.
"Them," he hissed.
Then, seemingly out of thin air, two people, a woman and a little boy appeared besides the tree, holding what seemed to be a bucket.
The two were talking amongst each other and began walking towards the stream over on the other side of the neighboring farm.
"Rock Creek," Mr. Patterson muttered himself.
"What?"
"We have to follow them," Mr. Patterson said.
"What?"
"They're going to wash some clothes. Perfect time for you to get your very own 19th century outfit," Mr. Patterson explained.
"What?"
"Shh!" Mr. Patterson quieted Ben. He crept silently out from his barrel and ran to the nearest tree and hid behind it.
What in the world was he doing?
Mr. Patterson made a jerky movement with his hand, motioning Ben to follow him. This guy has no idea what he's doing, Ben thought. Sighing, he leapt out of his hiding place, and with great agility, made it next to Mr. Patterson in a matter of seconds.
"Alright. Here's the plan. We sneak up to the two people, and while their washing their other dirty clothes by Rock Creek, you bolt out from behind the trees and go grab a set of clothes for yourself, got it?"
"Wait, what? That won't work!" Ben hissed back at Mr. Patterson.
"Why not?"
"Ok, first of all, what if I get caught? Second of all, are you really expecting me to wear some dirty clothes from a person who could be sick with some contagious disease?"
Mr. Patterson pondered Bens words for a moment. "You won't get caught, that's for sure. Admit it Ben, you're athletic enough to get in and out with the clothes without getting caught"
Ben flushed at the praise. "O-ok, but what if the clothes are infected?"
Mr. Patterson snorted. "Trust me, their not. If they were, the two people wouldn't be touching them, much less washing them"
Ben sighed. "Fine. Lead the way, Professor Patterson"
Mr. Patterson grinned and ducked under a bush, giving Ben the 'all clear' sign. Ben sighed again and followed Mr. Patterson, who hopefully now knew what he was getting himself and Ben--into.
*******************************
After a few minutes of very bad secret following, Ben and Mr. Patterson finally arrived at Rock Creek, hiding behind some rosebushes, observing two oblivious civilians.
Ben spit out some grass from his mouth.
"Okay, what now?"
Mr. Patterson pointed at the woman, who was now taking some clothes out of the bucket and dipping them into the creek, humming some sort of tune under her breath.
The little boy was no where in sight.
"Now you go and get the clothes" Mr. Patterson hissed, and gave Ben a slight push.
"Alright, alright I'm going!"
Ben silently tried to slip out of the rosebush, but only ended up getting his shirt snagged on one of the branches.
Ben looked back. "Oh, for the love of.."
He gave his shirt a tug, but it didn't come loose. He yanked at it, but it still didn't come loose. Muttering a string of curses under his breath, Ben squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his shirt over his head and left it sitting on the branch.
Creeping down on all fours, Ben moved slowly towards the woman, who was still humming, concentrating on her work.
He reached out a shaky hand, aiming at the bucket by her feet.
Almost...there...
Snap.
Crap. Ben froze. What was that?
Crap, crap, crap. Great. Now his covers blown.
He risked a glanced at the woman---and breathed a sigh of relief.
The woman didn't seem to have heard anything because she continued to do her work, humming a different tune this time.
Focus in the task at hand, Ben thought to himself.
He licked his lips and reached again for the clothes by the womans feet.
Almost....almost.....Got it!
Bens fingers clasped around the cool fabric, and then he bolted. Diving back behind the rosebushes, Ben held his breath, wondering if the woman heard him.
"What was that sound?" he heard the woman ask softly to herself.
She must have dissmissed herself because Ben heard humming begin again.
Breathing a sigh of total, utter relief, Ben clutched the fabric to his chest.
"Ok Mr. Patterson, I got the clothes, now--" Ben stopped in mid sentence and looked around wildly.
The middle aged man was nowhere to be seen.
****************
He had probably left for his 'urgent mission' Ben thought for the fifth time in his head. He'll come back.
But deep down, Ben knew that Mr. Patterson wouldn't be back anytime soon. He was on his own now.
Ben had changed into the farmer boys clothes and they fit surprsingly well. All it really was was a battered brown short sleeved shirt, matched with equally battered shorts that had stitches in the back. There had also been a pair of rusty suspenders, but Ben decides to leave those alone.
He was walking alone by Rock Creek, heading to the other farms, hoping to seek shelter when past memories him. What if he was not alone?
Ben thought back to the time Mr. Patterson told him the truth about time traveling.
There were others.
There were other kids like him, confused and trapped in the 19th century time period like him. Ben was determined to find them.
But how?
Bens thoughts were interrupted when he heard footsteps.
He looked around wildly, when he realized he didn't have to run. He didn't look that suspisious now. At least he had the right clothes on.
Ben was about to go and investigate when the little boy from earlier stepped out from behind a tree.
He was about five years old, wearing n shirt, but a pair of suspenders and shorts.
"Do you know where my mama is?"
Ben blinked, as if just registering the boys words and feebly pointed in the direction in which he came from.
The little boy then regarded Ben for a moment and then bobbed his small head
"Thank you," was all he said and then left, leaving Ben slightly disgruntled.
He just communitcated with a historical figure. A grin slowly spread across his face.
How awesome was that?
Ok, Ben thought, shaking his head. Back to reality. Or rather, messed up reality.
Now what? He had to find shelter, obviously, but where? Who would accept a dirty farm boy into their home?
Ben sighed, combing his hand through his ginger hair.
It was going to be a long, long day.
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Sorry if the chap was too short....:( but the next one will be up tomorrow i promise!!
VOTE AND COMMENT PLEASE <3
:))
--heyhey800