The men came through the door, a shocked look on their faces to see a strange couple sitting on the floor holding one another, fear written on their faces. They raised their muskets and held them trained on the frightened pair. All three stood in the doorway in a threatening posture, appearing tired and wet.
Carl raised a hand in surrender while trying to force a smile. “Don’t shoot, we’re lost—we don’t mean any harm,” he pleaded as Beth held tight to his jacket, her eyes glued to the nose of those guns pointed at them.
Eyes fixed on the shivering, frightened couple on the floor, rain dripping from the rims of their hats, the men moved slowly toward them with muskets still aimed. In what seemed to be an English accent, one of them spoke. “How did you get here?” He held the gun up close to his face, peering down its barrel with piercing eyes. “Stand up so we can see you better and walk over to the cot. Keep your hands out so we can see them.”
No argument there. The two stood and slowly walked to the sagging mattress on an iron frame, holding their hands out in front of them. Beth stayed close at the side of her husband. Her hands trembled as she strolled across the floor, her gaze never leaving the sight of those guns. One of them lowered his musket and held a hand up to wave to the others to do the same.
“Sit, I want you to tell us where you’re from and how you got here,” he asked.
The other two came closer to the intruders on the cot and circled them as they looked with curious interest. Beth’s eyes began to follow them as they came up behind and then back around to face them. She let out a little whimper, exposing how upset she was. The closest man backed off slowly to join the others who stood a few feet away. Carl stood then carefully moved in front of his wife to let them know he would protect her. One of the soldiers came up to him, reached out his hand to touch the sleeve of Carl’s jacket. His fingers ran across the smooth manufactured leather while his eyes examined it in a curious way. Carl stood motionless, letting him investigate. The unshaven face of the tired-looking man lifted. His eyes, just below the curled rim of his hat, met Carl’s. They stood face to face for several moments.
“Who are you? Where are you from?” He had an undeniable English accent. His companions stayed back, watching with great concern. Beth huddled close behind Carl trying desperately not to cry.
“We found ourselves here. I don’t know how we got here. We are from another time—a time in the future. We had a cottage…but now it’s gone.” He lowered his head but kept his eyes on the man. “We just need help—we are not here to hurt anyone.”
“Where did you get those clothes?” the weary soldier asked. “That short coat, what is it? I never saw any like it.” He circled Carl, a hand up to his unshaven chin. “Strange,” he commented as he came back to face to face with Carl.
“It’s made in my time—you know, a time in the future. Its leather made from the hide of an animal. I know it looks different from what you have here, but in time they improved on these things.” He opened the jacket to show him the inside. The other two men came closer, straining to get a better look.
“I don’t know anything about this time in the future, but I think we can trust you. There is a war on, and no one should be out here like this alone with no gun—” he looked around “—or knife.” He looked at Beth. “What about the woman?”
“She’s my wife. I don’t want anything to happen to her.” He moved over slightly to block the man’s view of her.
“We don’t hurt women.” After he said it, he walked to the doorway.
Carl spoke after him, “Is it safe here? We saw an Indian girl back there picking berries.”
The soldier turned to face him again. “Should be no worry as long as they are the Oneidas, who are on our side.” His brows came together. “Oh, there are still those who would like to have your scalp and would do anything to get it. You have to be careful, but even more so with the British. They will kill you right on the spot.”
“What year is this?” Carl asked. The men stared straight at him, startled by the question.
“You mean, you don’t know?
“That’s right, I don’t know.” Carl stepped a foot forward, keeping Beth close.
“I think you may have been hit in the head or something. It’s 1777. Everyone knows what year it is. I wouldn’t be so surprised if you had asked the day, or even the month…but the year?” He laughed and then looked outside at the rain. “As soon as this rain lets up, we will take you to Chief Paul—that is if he’s still at the fort. If not, someone there will talk to you.”
“Are you talking about Fort Stanwix?” His eyes widened. “I remember it from history about the Revolutionary War. It’s a historical site here.”
“That’s what they call it, all right. I don’t know about historical.” The soldier smiled. “I guess you know where you are at least. I was beginning to think you came here from some kind of foreign place we don’t know about.” He walked around the nervous two, inspecting them with great interest.
“Umm, you seem to know more than I thought. Are you sure you’re not someone from the other side, or from one of those renegade Indian tribes who left here awhile ago? They sometimes harbor the English among them.”
“No, my wife and I are just plain people tossed into a time warp of the past and want to get back to our own time—our own lives.” Beth was now standing behind him and moved slowly along as he walked toward the men. “I was going to get some wood for a fire.”
“You want to venture out in this rain?” The tall warrior pointed outside to the hard driving downpour as the wind blew hard against the walls of the small structure. Lightning and thunder so loud it drowned out his next words forced him to stop talking as he looked once again out the open door.
Beth stood on her tiptoes to whisper in Carl’s ear. “Don’t upset them—just try to be real nice.”
One of the other men limped over to the door. His one foot was wrapped with a soiled cloth stained with blood, pain written all over his face, but he walked up to his comrade and asked if they would be staying there for the night. With a nod the taller of the two said nothing more, but his eyes focused on the soldier’s foot.
Simultaneous thoughts ran through the misplaced couple’s minds. They would be staying there in a small cold cabin all night with strange-looking soldiers they didn’t know. But this was their only hope, so they would have to put up with whatever stood before them on the cold rainy night ahead in a place they didn’t choose to be.
Frightened at the mere thought, Beth held onto Carl’s arm as they went back to the cot and sat down. She looked over at the window. The rain splashed in, soaking the floor below, there didn’t seem to be any letup.
She leaned over to speak softly into Carl’s ear, “These guys are talking about Indians who scalp people and a deadly war with the British. We both know about it from our classes in school. This is crazy, I can’t believe this whole thing…I’m scared to death.”
“Take it easy. It looks like we’ll be all right with these guys. The Revolutionary War was one of my favorite subjects. You know how many books I have on it. And, yes, this is pretty crazy all right, but here we are, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
The shorter one of the three wet and dirty soldiers walked up to them with something in his hand. He held it out to them. “Here. It’s not much, but it will help.” He handed them what appeared to be some dried meat. One could call it jerky, but it looked rather grey in color and thick in structure.
Knowing how scarce food might be, Carl thanked him and took it from him.
It was tough to break in half, but with extreme effort he managed. He and Beth shared it by gnawing at it with teeth hardly penetrating the tough thick smelly piece of what they called meat. Actually it didn’t taste too bad. Carl snickered a little while he watched Beth try to bite into it and finally chewed off a piece that would require a great deal of chewing for some time.
She looked up at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing really…just you and that meat,” he said with somewhat of a giggle.
“You amaze me, Carl—here we are in some kind of time thing with three men who could decide at any time to kill us, and you’re laughing.” She shook her head and swallowed the piece of meat she chewed with a loud gulp.
“I know, but I trust these guys. It just struck me as funny as I watched you with this wonderful food just given to us.” He put his arm around her. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll go with these guys to the fort where we will hopefully get help there. At least we’ll be safe.”
A short time later, the storm diminished some, and the thunder and lightning stopped. Still, it was getting late in the day. Travel was not advised. The soldiers informed the two on the cot they would all spend the night right there in the open cabin. The taller one, obviously the leader, suggested they look for wood for a fire and sent the other two out to gather some.
Clouds still darkened the skies as the men left the cabin to find what they could for a fire to warm them. The chill in the air with open windows brought the worry of a cold night.
Carl approached the soldier who stood at the door watching his men leave. He stroked the handle of the long sword hanging at his side while he took his hat off with the other hand. With the back of his hand he wiped his brow on the cuff of his coat. His wheat colored hair hung down long, all the way to his shoulders and dripped with rain which soaked his hat. He shook the hat to one side to release what was left of the unwanted moisture.
As he looked back at the pathetic looking couple he spoke in a loud tone: “I hope you don’t think we can help you get back to wherever it is you came from. There is no passage to the future. At least not any I know of.” The bit of sarcasm in his voice gave Carl a sharp turn of his head.
“I know you don’t believe us, but it happens to be true. We are from another time—a time in the future. Have you ever heard of the year 2012?” He stood up, but before the man could respond he added: “Well, that’s the year we are from, and you can pass it off as much as you want, but it’s the truth.” He walked right up to the soldier. “I suppose you think I’m crazy.”
The tired man smiled as he held out his hand. “Don’t take offense. I know how it is with the war and all. We all have problems with it. I myself sometimes think I’m not really here—that it will all go away somehow.” Carl shook his hand but with reluctance. “By the way, what is your name? I’m Charles, the commanding officer of the twelve men in my platoon.” He stepped back away from Carl to study him while he waited for a reply.
“I’m Carl, and my wife is Elizabeth.”
Charles smiled. “When my men get back, we can have a fire to warm her. She looks cold, and she’s wet. Come help me put some boards up on the window to shut out the weather.”
They took the position of two men working together as though they knew one another because they had a common cause in mind. Along the wall by the window stood a large flat piece of wood just the right size to cover the entire opening. With a two inch ledge at the bottom of the squared out space, the panel of wood would set there just right.
Carl helped him lift it up on the ledge of the window. It was obvious the dirty wood panel had been used for the same purpose before. They needed something to hold it in place, so Carl offered to go outside and find a long branch. There were plenty of them around. It would be just the thing to prop up against the panel.
Beth sat on the cot, shivering as she wrapped her arms around her in an attempt to generate some warmth. Her eyes kept a keen watch on this Charles person as he held the panel up to the window and waited for Carl to return. The sound of the lingering sprinkle of rain outside gave her cause to worry about her husband, but she said nothing. When he appeared at the door with a long sturdy branch the size of a limb off one of the more mature trees, she let out a sigh of relief.
The men went right to work to secure the open window frame and block out, not only the rain, but the cold as well. The conversation between them was delicately cordial with nothing more said about where Carl came from. Instead they talked about the weather, the fort, and what to expect during the long night ahead.
Just as they finished the task at hand, the other two soldiers, looking quite haggard, came up to the doorway with arms full of wood. They placed the wood on the floor in front of the open stone fireplace and then reached in their pockets to withdraw some kind of roots.
Over the shorter man’s shoulder hung an animal-skin bag full of something. He gently removed it from his shoulder to offer it to the lost couple they would occupy the cabin with.
Water inside the bag moved around, sloshing from side to side, spilling a few drops to the floor.
“Here, drink. We gathered water in this bag from the roof. We hung it at the corner of the cabin when we left so it would fill. We also found some yams.” He held out one of the long roots he had taken from his pocket. “We can cook them as soon as we have a fire.”
The three soldiers appeared to be accustomed to what they were doing as though this was a way of life for them. But, then again, it was. Even with the distinct differences between the two groups, they worked in harmony at their situation without a problem.
The soldiers took charge at the command of Charles who instructed them to build the fire while he took a knife from his waistband to trim the yams to get them ready to cook. “These roots are very good to eat, and they will supply you with energy.”
Carl remembered seeing something out on the porch. He was sure it was a door and went out to get it. The steady downpour of rain was not as threatening as earlier but still coming down. He retrieved the partially broken door and dragged it inside. Enough of it was left to place in the door frame where it obviously had been at one time. He hoped it would keep out the cold and rain during the night. Charles helped him put it in and then stuck a wedge of wood he found on the floor to hold it in place. All except for a panel missing at the bottom of it seemed rather secure.
The fire took off, and heat began to generate throughout the room of the cabin. As the darkened skies outside hid the light of day, they now only had the glow of the fire for light. The orange glow traveled to the walls of the early constructed dwelling, but being all made of logs, it had a thick wall to insulate it from the outside. The fire’s warmth, quickly felt, was welcomed with delight.
Charles stuck the yams on a stick and held them over the fire until they looked almost like charcoal. As he withdrew them, he offered some to the lost couple.
When you’re hungry, anything tastes good, so they took the funny-looking roots, split them open and ate, whole-heartedly astonished they were not bad.
Eventually other needs presented themselves, such as a nature’s call. With no bathroom facilities in the cabin Carl had to escort Beth out to the back of the cabin where there were no windows or anyone around. A makeshift outhouse sat several feet from the cabin without a door and some nasty-looking seats, or holes carved out two in a row. “How disgusting,” she said, as she entered the humble makings of a bathroom, while Carl stood outside in front of the opening.
When they returned, they sat with Charles on the floor by the fire, talking about the war and the fort they would head for in the morning. Carl was full of questions.
“What about the Indians? They must be close by; we saw an Indian girl not far from here.” The fire glowed like an orange gleam of light as they sat in conversation of what to expect.
“There are Indians around here, but not as many of the bad ones as we had a few months ago. Not since the big battle in August. We had the help of an Indian along with his wife and son. Still, there are a few, not so nice, who hang out in these parts now and then, so we watch out for them. You can’t be too careful in this war. They can sneak up on you when you don’t know they’re there. They are very sneaky, so you won’t hear them.”
“Is it safe at the fort?” Carl asked.
“Pretty much so, but you may want to be led to one of the farms where other civilians live and have them help you. You should talk to the captain when we get there.”
“This is amazing—I read about all of this some years ago. I’ve been a Revolutionary War buff ever since and now here I am right in it.” Carl gazed into the fire with wide but tired eyes.
The late night closed in on them, and sleep was more than welcomed.