Right before the curtains part, I adjust my white wig and run to my place onstage, next to the fake tree stump. I’m supposed to be a teenager in this scene, so instead of wearing my blue army coat I’m wearing a blue hoodie. I pretend to sob, and there’s an ax on the ground next to me.

The crowd claps and I hear my mom yell, “That’s my Eric!” I think I’m blushing, but I doubt anyone can see from the audience.

Samantha, playing the future Martha Washington, is dressed in a simple frock and bonnet. She crosses the stage. “Teenage Georgie Washington—why are you so upset?”

I hold my jaw. I’m wearing Mr. Wolcott’s pair of fake wooden teeth in my mouth, and they are at least two sizes too big for me. I have to open my mouth really wide to talk. “Hello, future Martha Washington. I cannot tell a lie. I cut down this cherry tree. And now my father has grounded me.”

“You’re spitting on me,” she says.

“Sorry. It’s the teeth.”

She takes a step backward, so she’s out of spray range. “If you’re the father of our country, is your father the grandfather of our country?”

“I cannot tell a lie. Yes.” When I talk, a little more spit flies out and hits the bottom of her frock. “Sorry.”

She frowns and takes another step back. “But why did you cut down the tree, teenage Georgie Washington?”

I hold my jaw. My gums ache. “I wanted to build a new set of wooden teeth because woodpeckers ate my old pair.”

“Woodpeckers are interesting unless you have a wooden leg or wooden teeth or you’re a wooden puppet like Pinocchio. Then woodpeckers can be scary.”

I nod. According to the script, we’re supposed to hug each other and kiss. Lizzie insisted on adding that part. I squirm a little.

“We’re skipping over the romantic parts, right?” Samantha asks, keeping her distance.

“I cannot tell a lie. Yes,” I answer, relieved.

“I have a dream,” says Samantha. “That someday I’ll be first lady, you’ll be president, and we’ll have our own country, which we’ll call the United States of America.” As she talks, she walks across the stage and back.

“Nice walk,” I whisper. “Very regal.”

“Thank you.”

I stand up and place my hand on my heart. “Future Martha Washington, although I’m only the teenage George Washington, you have convinced me. I vow that when I grow up, I will fight for our independence and for better wooden teeth. Especially wooden teeth.”

“Oh, teenage Georgie Washington! I hope so,” says Samantha. “A land built on wooden teeth would be a wonderful place.” She pauses. “We’re supposed to kiss again, but we can ignore that, right?”

“I’ll sign my name big!” yells Gavin, rushing onto the stage.

“Get out of here,” I whisper to him, waving him away. “Your part isn’t until the second half. And you’re not even saying it right.”

“Sorry,” says Gavin, rushing off the stage.

A couple of people in the audience laugh. Maybe they think that was in the script. As we follow Gavin offstage, the audience breaks into applause.

They really liked the first scene. Samantha and I high-five just offstage.

“You’re a really good actor,” she says to me.

“You too,” I answer truthfully. “Just as good as Lizzie. Maybe better.”

I watch from backstage as the curtains rise on colonial Boston. The backdrop shows narrow cobblestone streets winding between small brick buildings. Samantha and Giovanna did a great job creating it. To make sure the audience knows this is Boston, Giovanna wrote “This is Boston” at the top of the backdrop.

Cooper, who plays Thomas Jefferson, hurries across the stage. He wears a thick woolen coat on this crisp autumn evening. Coyotes howl through the cold, echoing streets.

“There are supposed to be howling winds, not howling coyotes,” I whisper to Danny. He’s standing next to me.

“That is my howling wind,” Danny insists, frowning. “I’m doing my best.”

Ryan, playing a villager, spins onto the stage. She wears a black, three-sided colonial hat, a frilly white shirt, and waves a picket sign that says NO T TAX!

“Down with the British! Boo!” Ryan yells. She stops spinning.

Seth is next to me in the wings, too, watching. He painted Ryan’s sign. “It must have been really hard back then,” he whispers to me. “Every time you said the letter T, you were taxed.”

“Actually, they taxed the drinking tea,” I say.

Seth looks away, nodding. “That makes more sense.”

Back onstage, Ryan and Cooper are talking about taxation and stuff.

“Don’t worry. I have a plan,” says Cooper. “If it’s all right, I’ll sing it to you.”

“Of course,” says Ryan. “And I will perform an original interpretive dance. With spinning.”

As Cooper sings his solo, Ryan performs an interpretive dance, with a lot of spinning. The song is sung to the tune of “You’re a Grand Old Flag.”

It’s a taxed tea bag.

It’s a high-priced tea bag.

It’s a tax we simply can’t afford.

We’ll all scream and shout.

We’ll toss the tea out—

Into the harbor, overboard.

It’s an uprising

Over Darjeeling.

The king’s an ignorant burping moose.

We’ll give history

Quite a tea party!

And we’ll only drink apple juice.

The audience claps along to the song. Kyle stands on the opposite side of the wing. I don’t think he could smile any wider.

Onstage, other villagers have joined Ryan and Cooper, singing together. They all wear distinctive colonial clothes such as waistcoats, breeches, and stockings. Near the back of the stage, Ryan continues to spin.

It’s just not okay

To tax our Earl Grey.

Why, we have clearly been betrayed.

With our taxes up,

We’ll all skip a cup—

And instead drink pink lemonade.

Jasmine adds, “And fruit punch!”

The other villagers stare at her. That wasn’t in the script. She shrugs. “Hey, I don’t like lemonade, okay?”

The villagers raise their fists and march off the stage shouting, “Down with the British!” and “No taxation without representation!”

Ryan, who must be dizzy from all of that spinning, trips, and then stumbles after them.

“Ta-da!” she says right before leaving the stage.

The audience cheers. I look over to Kyle. I was wrong about his smile not being able to get any wider. Because I think it’s a lot bigger now.

The curtain opens to reveal a small meeting room. Emmy, who plays Betsy Ross, wears a red, white, and blue dress and holds an American flag. I face her, along with Cooper and Madelyn, who plays the part of John Adams. We all wear big white wigs.

The wig itches, but it’s not nearly as annoying as these wooden teeth.

“What do you think?” Emmy asks. “I sewed this flag all by myself. See? It has fifty stars, one for each state.”

“But there are only thirteen colonies,” says Cooper. “How do you know we’ll have fifty states someday?”

“Just a lucky guess.”

Next to me, Cooper and Madelyn, or rather Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, admire the flag, murmuring their approval and patting Emmy on the back. “Well done, Betsy … Very stripy … Why five-pointed stars?”

“We need more than a flag,” I announce, stepping forward. “We need laws, congress, and most of all, a new set of wooden teeth. And a bunch of other stuff, like a White House. Or my name isn’t George Washington!”

“Let’s elect a congress to put all of those things together,” suggests Madelyn. She steps forward and throws out her arm, punching me in the shoulder. “Sorry. That was my manly arm thrust.”

“I cannot tell a lie: That hurt,” I say, wincing. “Although not as much as these wooden teeth do.”

The audience giggles, although there is nothing funny about my teeth, at least not to me.

Madelyn steps forward, away from me, and thrusts out an arm again. She narrowly misses Emmy’s head. “We will form the First Continental Congress, where we will discuss liberty and other things. Then, after we fight the British, we can elect George Washington our first president. Me, John Adams, will be our second president. Thomas Jefferson will be our third president.”

“But I want to be the second president,” complains Cooper.

“Too bad. I called it already,” says Madelyn.

“This will be great!” exclaims Emmy as Betsy Ross. “I’ll make Lizzie’s special tuna cupcake surprise dessert for the meeting.”

“How about apple pie instead?” Madelyn suggests. She thrusts out her arm and just misses clocking Emmy on the chin.

“Watch it,” hisses Emmy.

Gavin rushes onstage. “I’ll sign my name huge!”

“Not yet,” I whisper to him. “And that’s not even the right line.”

“Sorry,” says Gavin, rushing off the stage.

It is evening on the streets of Philadelphia, although the backdrop looks exactly like the streets of Boston except Giovanna crossed out the word Boston and wrote Philadelphia underneath it. I’m onstage along with Samantha, Cooper, and Eli. Eli wears bifocals and holds a kite because he plays Ben Franklin. We huddle together in a semicircle, facing the audience.

My mouth aches. A few of my wooden teeth have twisted, and I can’t close my mouth all the way. One tooth falls off and lands on the floor. “These teeth are killing me,” I groan.

“Forget your teeth, George Washington,” says Cooper, stepping to the side to avoid my spit. “The Continental Congress needs someone to lead our army against the British.”

“I will defeat them with my superpowered Kite of Electrical Might!” declares Eli as Ben Franklin, holding out his kite and flexing a bicep.

“We killed that scene, remember?” I whisper to him.

“But a superpowered Kite of Electrical Might was way cooler than anything else in this play,” Eli whines, crossing his arms and turning his back to us, moping.

I worry that Eli is ruining the play, but a few people in the audience laugh as if everything has been planned.

“You’re the only one who can lead us, George Washington,” says Samantha. She’s supposed to then say, “Kiss me now!” but thankfully she skips that line.

“I cannot tell a lie,” I say. “My mouth hurts too much to help.”

“We still have my super mighty kite,” suggests Eli.

I frown at him, or at least I try to. It’s hard to frown with these teeth in my mouth.

“But you have to lead the army, or Wilbur Smelly-Sock will lead it,” complains Cooper, playing Thomas Jefferson. “Then we’ll have to name our new capital Smelly-Sock, DC, and we’ll be the laughingstock of the world.”

“We just have to name it Washington, DC, George!” Samantha exclaims. “And if you win the war, you can buy a new pair of wooden teeth.”

“Or we can go with my idea and defeat the British army in, like, five seconds,” Eli says.

“Enough with the stupid kite already,” says Samantha, shoving Eli.

“I will lead the army, in the name of better teeth everywhere!” I step in between Samantha and Eli, who are taking turns pushing each other.

Samantha raises her hand to me. “Great! High five!”

The script says we’re supposed to kiss and declare our love for each other, but I gladly give her a high five instead.

“Hurrah! Hurrah!” cheers Cooper.

A few people in the audience also yell, “Hurrah! Hurrah!” They seem to really be enjoying the play.

Eli is supposed to cheer, too, but he just stares at his kite and grumbles to himself.

“Let’s sing another song,” says Cooper.

“It seems like a good time for one,” I agree.

Ryan dashes onto the stage and begins another interpretive dance in the background with a lot of spinning.

We all sing to the tune “When Johnny Comes Marching Home.”

So Georgie can wear wood teeth again—

Hurrah! Hurrah!

He’ll lead our troops of fighting men.

Hurrah! Hurrah!

Our boys will cheer and march about,

They’ll brush teeth to keep cavities out,

And we’ll all have bright smiles when—

Georgie wears wooden teeth.

We’ll raise the flag and beat our drums.

Hurrah! Hurrah!

We’ll take great care of our gums.

Hurrah! Hurrah!

We’ll battle back the king’s menace,

And twice a year visit dentists.

And we’ll all have bright smiles when—

Georgie wears wooden teeth.

The enemy we’ll smash and crush!

Hurrah! Hurrah!

Our fists we’ll raise, our teeth we’ll brush!

Hurrah! Hurrah!

We’ll show those Brits who’s the boss.

We’ll win freedom and then we’ll floss,

And we’ll all have bright smiles when—

Georgie wears wooden teeth.

We march offstage. The crowd cheers us loudly, and a few people whistle. My mom yells, “That’s my son! George Washington! Isn’t he wonderful?” which is a little embarrassing, but I can’t help but grin, anyway.

Ryan dances off behind us. She looks really dizzy from spinning, and as we near the side of the stage, she smashes into Samantha.

“Ta-da!” she shouts.

Eli is behind her, swooping with his arms flapping.

“What are you doing?” I ask him.

“Flying off with my mighty electrical superpowered kite powers.”

“You know we killed that scene!” Samantha yells at him.

Gavin dashes past him and onto the stage. “I’ll sign my name large!” he shouts.

“Not yet!” I whisper loudly. “And you’re still not saying it right!”

The crowd applauds as the curtains close. If they realize how badly we’re messing up, their cheers don’t show it.

The curtains part, revealing Trevor, who plays Paul Revere, hammering horseshoes on a bench. I adjust my teeth, but they are half in my mouth and half hanging on my lip.

Three more teeth crack off.

“George! Welcome!” says Trevor, waving. “Your teeth are falling out.”

“I cannot tell a lie, Paul Revere. I know they are. But we don’t have time right now to talk teeth. We need you to warn the people the British are coming. We will light one lantern if they come by land, and two if by sea.”

“What if I see three lanterns?” he asks.

“Then they come by airplane.”

“Why can’t Ben Franklin warn everyone with his superpowered Kite of Electrical Might?”

“Because we deleted all of that from the script.”

“Oh, right. I forgot.” Trevor steps forward with a long and purposeful stride. He puts his hands on his hips and looks out to the crowd. “Then I will do it. I will ride to Lexington and warn the people, crying, ‘The British are here! The British are here!’ ”

“Actually, you need to shout, ‘The British are coming! The British are coming!’ ”

“I think my way makes more sense, but if you insist. We will fight for freedom! For America!”

“And for wooden teeth!” I declare as more wood splinters out of my mouth. “Especially for wooden teeth.”

Trevor runs off yelling, “The British are here! The British are here!”

“No, they’re coming! They’re coming! And you have to wait for the lanterns!”

Cooper sits at a desk in his study, writing with a quill on a large piece of parchment paper. I stand next to him along with Eli (as Ben Franklin, of course) and Gavin. Gavin plays John Hancock.

“If you had a superpowered quill, you’d be done writing that by now,” says Eli.

“Op e we a spr prr suff awee,” I say, slobbering.

“What?” asks Eli.

I can barely talk with those oversized wooden teeth in my mouth. I remove them and my jaw already feels better. “I said, ‘Stop it with the superpower stuff already.’ We must demand our independence. Thomas Jefferson, we need you to write a declaration.”

Cooper nods. “We’ll call it, Leave Us Alone, You Ignorant Burping Moose.”

“That’s catchy,” I say. “But we were thinking of calling it the Declaration of Independence.”

“I like my title better,” says Cooper. He frowns, lifts his quill, and writes a few words on the parchment paper. We gather around him to watch. “I’ll start with, ‘We the people.’ ”

“Let’s save that for the Constitution,” I say.

“Good idea,” agrees Cooper.

“I’ll write my name supersized!” Gavin shouts.

“It’s not time for your line yet,” I say, rolling my eyes. “And you’re still saying it wrong.”

“Sorry,” says Gavin.

“The Declaration of Independence is an important document,” Cooper interrupts. “I think we should sing a song about it.”

“That’s a great idea. It seems about time for another song,” I agree.

Ryan runs out behind us and starts spinning.

“Why are you here?” I ask. “We only agreed to two dances.”

“I like to spin,” she says with a shrug. “And dancing always entertains.”

“I’ll write my name ginormous!” Gavin shouts, stepping forward.

“Not yet,” I say. “And that’s not right, either.”

Cooper, Eli, and I take turns singing lines of the song. We sing to the tune of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

We declare independence from that dirty rotten king.

We’ll poke him in the eyeball and put his arm into a sling.

We will smack him in the head with fourteen pounds of jelly beans.

Our freedom marches on!

The king’s armpits are stinky and his nose is filled with warts.

His hair is extra greasy. His breath smells like rotten farts.

His toes are warped and ugly, and he doesn’t have a heart.

Our freedom marches on!

Glory, glory hallelujah!

Kick the king out as our ruler.

Democracy is way cooler.

Our freedom marches on!

We’ll send our plea for liberty across the Atlantic.

Each one of us will sign our names—

Everyone looks at Gavin. “What?” he asks.

“It’s time for your line,” I hiss.

Gavin shouts, “I’ll sign my name gigantic!”

“Nicely done,” I say.

Cooper continues singing.

Give us freedom or we’ll sink you like the Titanic!

Our freedom marches on!

We gather around, shaking hands and exchanging back slaps. The crowd is going nuts, cheering and whistling. Someone yells, “Bravo!” It might be my mom.

Things are going pretty well. Maybe I should share more of what I write.

Of course, things aren’t exactly going perfectly, either. Ryan, dizzy from spinning so much, smashes into Eli and they both crash to the ground.

“If only I had my superpowered kite,” moans Eli, holding his head.

“Ta-da,” mumbles Ryan.

The crowd cheers even louder, as if it’s all part of the script.

Samantha and I are onstage, alone. The audience is hushed. Mr. Wolcott managed to get my wooden teeth back into my mouth, although barely. I wish he hadn’t. It feels like I have a jaw full of chipped marbles. A giant American flag waves in back of us, although the offstage fan is cranked up to high and the wind blows off Samantha’s bonnet. Danny makes loud duck calls from behind the curtain.

“You’re supposed to be making explosion war sounds,” I whisper loudly to him.

“These are my explosion sounds,” Danny whispers back. “I’m doing my best.”

“The script says we kiss now,” Samantha says softly to me. “We won’t, right?” I nod. “Good.” She clears her throat. To the audience, she says loudly, “Now all we need is a country to wave our flag in, and fifty states, and a national anthem and stuff. And then, maybe, someday, fifth graders will put on plays about us.” She looks at me, but I’m gazing off and holding my jaw. “George Washington, did you hear anything I said?”

“I cannot tell a lie. No. My teeth hurt too much to listen.” That line is in the script, but I don’t have to do much acting to make it believable, unfortunately.

“Someday kids will have dentists,” Samantha says.

“I hope so. That’s what we’re fighting for.”

Cooper walks onto the stage, followed by Gavin, Eli, Madelyn, Emmy, and Trevor. “You are wrong, George Washington,” says Cooper. “We’re fighting because we believe that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights.”

The rest of the cast streams onto the stage, forming a single line in back of Samantha and me and facing the audience.

Madelyn steps forward and thrusts out a fist, punching me in the arm. “Sorry.”

“You really need to watch your manly thrusts,” I say, wincing.

“I’ll sign my name gigantic!” shouts Gavin. Everyone ignores him.

Behind me, the entire cast continues to recite from the Declaration of Independence, together: “that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.—That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,—That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.”

“And we also fight for dentistry. Just a little,” I say, removing my teeth and massaging my pained jaw.

Eli steps forward. “This is where I soar across the room with my superpowered Kite of Electrical Might, while fireworks light up the stage, followed by explosive fireballs and a red, white, and blue ring of fire!” he announces.

“Um, no, we killed all that, remember?” I say as Danny and Jasmine run across the stage with sparklers.

The crowd stands up, cheering, as the curtains close.