Free Tesla's Time Travelers by Tim Black Page B

bandbox style house consisting of two floors, a cellar, an attic and a winding staircase that led from the cellar to the upper levels. The building’s front façade was home to a large window on the first floor, behind which items of merchandise were on display—the Ross house was both an upholstery business and a residence. Its proximity to the Delaware River docks made the house an ideal commercial location.
    Victor grabbed the brass knocker and clapped on the door.
    A young woman answered the door and stared at Victor curiously.
    Her reaction caused Victor to check his nose for an errant booger. “Is Mrs. Ross in?” he asked.
    “No, sir. May I help you?”
    “Yes, we are looking for Mr. Greene.”
    From a back room came a shout. “Victor!”
    It was one of the Anderson twins, Victor realized, but he didn’t know which one.
    “Justin or Heath?” he called as the young woman let him inside.
    “Justin,” the voice replied.
    Victor, Bette and Minerva walked back into the back room, where a bruised and black-eyed Justin lay on a bed.
    “We got into a fight,” Justin explained. “Me and Heath. At the Indian Queen Tavern on 4 th Street, I think.”
    “Defending the honor of Mrs. Ross,” the young woman said.
    “Victor, this nice lady is Cornelia Bridges; she makes flags for the Pennsylvania Navy. Maybe you are related?”
    Victor remembered Peggy Shippen’s criticism of Mrs. Bridges and the motto “Appeal to Heaven” on the navy banner. Victor shook his head. No one in his family that he knew of had ever been a flag maker in Philadelphia.
    “Guess not,” Justin said. “We followed Betsy and offered to buy her a shandy, Victor, honest. You know: the lemonade and beer mixture. I know we should have drunk cider, but the cider was stronger than the shandy. I mean, Victor, you can’t drink the water. A guy might wind up with the runs.”
    Victor knew many Philadelphians drank alcoholic beverages in lieu of the local water due to the potential of dysentery. “So you got into a fight?”
    “Yeah: two Spanish sailors. One of them called Mrs. Ross a bad name and, well, Heath has A.P. Spanish and caught the insult, and he insulted them back in Spanish, and then one of the Spanish sailors hit Heath and I hit his buddy and pretty soon we were out in the street. Those guys were pretty strong too.”
    “Where’s Heath?”
    “The sailors took him, I think.”
    “Why didn’t you stop them?”
    “I was unconscious.”
    “Where’s Mr. Greene?”
    “He’s unconscious in a bed in the next room. He arrived at the beginning of the fight and tried to stop it, and one of the sailors hit him atop his noggin with a pewter tankard of ale. He kind of smells of booze, which is really bad because he’s in A.A. and all. He’s going to suspend me when we get back, I know it. Mrs. Ross got some men to carry Mr. Greene and me here to her place.”
    “But what about Heath?” Victor asked again.
    “I figured they impressed him,” Justin said.
    “What do you mean?” Minerva asked.
    “Shanghaied him, Minerva,” Victor explained. “Impress means to take a man against his will and force him to serve on a ship. They kidnapped him.”
    “Oh,” Minerva replied, finally understanding.
    Bette asked, “Where’s Mrs. Ross, Justin?”
    Cornelia Bridges answered, “She went off to find Dr. Rush at the state house to tend to your mates here.”
    “This is worse than Ford’s Theater,” Victor said aloud. He was thinking, Will Mr. Greene wake up? You’re in charge, Victor, are you up for it? Remember, no big deal: rescue Heath and then get back to Independence Hall in time to snag Rodney’s riding crop, somehow get the unconscious Mr. Greene back to the landing zone for the portable and somehow get them back to the future. At least Michael J. Fox had a De Lorean; I have an old portable classroom. Get everyone back to Cassadaga Area High School or else they’ll all be in the Class of ’76. 1776.
    “What’s Ford’s