The Adventures of Justin Tyme
Volume I.
Mother Jones: The Most Dangerous Woman In America
by
Scott Cardinal & Marc Newman
Copyright 2010 Scott Cardinal & Marc Newman
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Events depicted in the book are based on historical fact. Some text and dialogue were inspired by, derived from, or duplicated from the writings of “Mother” Mary Jones, Upton Sinclair, Lewis Hines, Jacob Riis, Marshall Sweeny, John Spargo, John Reed, Herbert Asbury, and actual accounts of factory workers from the 1800's and early 1900's. Above and beyond historical events and dialogue, the remaining events depicted in this book are fictional. The majority of the characters, incidents, and dialogues are the product of the authors' imaginations and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
*****
The Time I Saved George Washington's Life
The year was 1776. I was in New York City. I traveled back in time specifically to save General George Washington’s life. Only a handful of people would ever believe this, and at least one of them is an enemy, so in fear that something should happen to me, I am writing everything down here in my journal, and will try to be as detailed as possible and provide information that no one else could possibly know unless they were actually there - and I was.
Even though the plot to abduct and assassinate Washington is now a part of American history, it is not well known and it certainly is not known at all that I was the one who actually saved him.
I found out about the actual attempt on Washington’s life because a fellow time-traveler was part of the conspiracy, and I knew then that I had to do something to stop the plot from happening.
A few days before the assassination attempt I traveled to New York City, and befriended a teenage girl named Phoebe Fraunces. When I met her, she was already very worried about her boyfriend, Corporal Thomas Hickey, who was one of George Washington’s bodyguards.
Thomas had always been poor and did not make much money in the Continental Army but lately he had been on a spending spree. Phoebe grew suspicious and wondered where he was getting all of the money. She confided in me and asked me if I had any ideas. Well, of course I knew! That’s why I traveled back in time. I needed to stop him from making the worst mistake of his life and changing the history of the United States and the entire world. So much has happened since that day, but here are all the facts as I remember them.
General George Washington was visiting his friend Mary Gibbons at her cottage in New Jersey. It was nighttime and I was able to hide behind some trees and watch as Thomas Hickey, Private Lynch and twelve other conspirators approached Washington’s closest guards. Hickey and Lynch were on duty that evening. Washington's bodyguards heard them approaching and turned to them, but they were too late. The twelve conspirators already had their muskets aimed at them. Washington’s guards looked at Hickey who they believed was a hostage. They did not suspect anything, even when he meekly said, “Drop your arms, soldiers.”
Washington's guards exchanged serious glances and wondered what they should do.
Gilbert Forbes then screamed, “Drop your muskets now!” Then Forbes took out a knife and pressed it against Hickey's throat and added, “... Or I'll cut him from ear to ear.” He motioned to his accomplices and said, “And they’ll shoot you where you stand.”
Hickey was forced to lean backwards as the knife actually cut some skin and drew blood that trickled down part of his throat. Hickey nodded to Washington's guards that they should do as they were told. The guards laid down their arms. Forbes pushed Hickey away from him. Two conspirators did the same to Lynch. Forbes motioned for Hickey and Lynch to stack the guards’ weapons. It was then that all the guards realized that their friend Thomas Hickey was a conspirator, too!
I heard one of the guards say, “Hickey, you filthy traitor!”
Everyone present was dumb-founded that both Hickey and Lynch were helping the conspirators. I watched as Hickey turned to Forbes. It did not look as if he trusted the man. In fact, it was clear from the look on Hickey’s face that he realized he was in over his head.
Probably in an effort to convince himself and everyone else that everyone will be fine, Hickey said, “This can be simple. No one will get hurt. I'll go and yell out to the General that the cottage is surrounded and he will come out and surrender.”
Within seconds, one of the guards said, “This is a traitor’s deed, Hickey!”
Then another one added, “You will swing from a rope!”
I heard another scream out, “You rotten scoundrel!”
Hickey ignored his men and turned to the cottage. Forbes took his musket and placed it on Hickey’s chest while two other Conspirators did the same to Lynch.
There was dead silence in the air until Forbes said, “There's been a change of plans.” He then added,
“We have little chance of trying to take Washington prisoner through rebel lines, so we decided it would be better if we just ... kill him here.”
All of Washington’s guards were in shock. They moved into action, but at once twelve muskets were in their faces, stopping the men dead in their tracks.
Hickey was horrified. “What about me and Lynch?” he asked.
A smirk formed on Forbes’ mouth as he answered, “You will both help us. Nobody will know who killed Washington - just that he is dead.”
No one could believe what he or she was hearing. Finally, Hickey asked, “What about my men?”
It was clear that all of the men were worried about their lives, but they appeared to be brave, strong, fearless, and waiting for the moment they could do their duty.
Within seconds, Forbes answered, “There can be no witnesses.”
Hickey could barely look at the men he had worked with. They looked at him with utmost contempt. If looks could kill, Hickey would have died right then and there.
Forbes looked directly at Hickey. “And if you refuse to help me, then you'll join your men.”
“You would kill me as well?” Hickey asked in shock.
Forbes nodded his head. “If the Rebels find out that you were helping us - you’ll hang. If you refuse to help me - I'll kill you. You help me ... you live. With Washington dead, this Rebel Army has no leader. Within a week or two this rebellion will be over.”
Hickey weighed his choices. Lynch made eye contact with Hickey and both men decided to resist. Hickey turned Forbes’ knife on its owner, digging it into his shoulder, but Forbes managed to shoot Hickey in the side of his neck. Blood gushed everywhere. Washington's guards were quickly shot and killed by the Conspirators. Lynch tried to run away but he was also shot by a Conspirator.
From my vantage point, I could see into Mary Gibbons’ cottage. The multiple shots alerted Washington to the presence of the assassins. He glanced out several windows and watched as the twelve Conspirators surrounded the cottage. Washington stood tall and reached to his side and - swoosh! - He unsheathed his great battle sword. The General looked out the rear window and saw his guards covered in blood. They were all dead, murdered.
Outside of the cottage, I watched Forbes stand at the front door with a musket. “General Washington ... come out and give you up to His Loyal Subjects of King George III!” he screamed.
I looked back into the cottage and was filled with pride as I watched Washington pull out his pistol and aim it at Forbes, through the window.
Forbes' eyes were focused on the front door as he added, “If you refuse … we will burn the cottage to the ground!”
Suddenly, Washington took aim and shot, and the bullet penetrated Forbes’ shoulder, where he had been stabbed by Hickey moments earlier. But Forbes kept his composure and then motioned to his men to light torches and set fire to the cottage.
Washington fired another shot through a window and this time he killed one of the Conspirators. Several men shot back, bursting lamps, glass, and furniture in the cottage. Washington covered Mary Gibbons as they huddled against a sidewall.
The Conspirators stepped forward to set fire to the cottage on all four sides.
One scene I will never forget is when a Conspirator approached a window and was getting ready to toss his fiery torch into the house. Washington suddenly reached out through the broken panes, grabbed the man’s arm, and dragged the Conspirator through the broken glass, and then dropped him to the ground. With a swift motion of his sword, Washington sliced him in two. Blood splattered the walls and furniture.
Another Conspirator, about twenty feet from the cottage, aimed his musket at Washington. The shot rang out, but missed its target. Mary Gibbons was hit in the thigh. She collapsed to the ground. Washington turned to her, but was distracted when another Conspirator charged at Washington with his bayonet attached to its musket. Washington grabbed the musket and lifted the man into the air, sending him flying into a china cabinet. Washington swung his sword and killed the Conspirator who fell to the ground.
From the front of the house, I heard Forbes scream, “Shoot him down!”
The remaining Conspirators began shooting into the burning cottage once again. This time several musket balls hit Washington: his thigh, his arms, and his chest. One grazed his temple, but he remained standing. Washington looked down at Mary Gibbons. He raised her up to see if she was still breathing.
More gunshots zoomed through the burning cottage. A couple of bullets entered Mary Gibbons' back, penetrating through to her lungs and heart, taking her life. She collapsed in Washington’s arms. He let her down slowly. The General looked all around him. Flames surrounded him. Ceiling beams were falling. Walls were crashing down. Washington raised his sword and burst through the front door with a swift kick.
Washington was in clear view. He shot a Conspirator and used his sword to slice another one.
Gilbert Forbes took several steps back and screamed out, “Fire!”
Still wounded, Washington managed to charge at Forbes, who fired the last shot. This stopped Washington in his tracks. The future President of the United States fell to the ground. He was covered in blood. All traces of life had left him.
Silence filled the air around me. I couldn’t believe what happened. But it did happen. That is ... it did until I did something about it.
I knelt down behind a tree and placed the artifacts tightly into my hand and traveled further back into time. Actually, to just a few days before the night Washington was to be assassinated by Loyalists to King George of England. I befriended Phoebe Fraunces and told her about the plot to kill Washington. She was a pretty girl, but looked exhausted from stress and hard work. Her father owned the famous Fraunces Tavern, which still stands in lower Manhattan today. After gaining her confidence and friendship, I told her that I suspected that her boyfriend Thomas Hickey was involved in a conspiracy to kill General George Washington. She did not believe me at first. Phoebe wondered who I was and how I would know about things that hadn’t happen yet. I assured her that I was a friend. I then convinced her that Washington’s life truly was in danger.
Convinced, Phoebe then went to see Major Benjamin Tallmadge and told him what she knew. Not wanting to take any chances with the General's safety, Washington's Aide brought Phoebe to see Washington. Once with the General, Phoebe told him what she knew. Washington and his guards immediately arrested the Loyalists and Conspirators involved and foiled the plot. Hickey revealed that he was part of a wider conspiracy of soldiers who were prepared to defect to the British. Hickey was turned over to the Continental Army for trial. He was subjected to a court-martial and found guilty of mutiny and sedition. He was executed before a crowd of 20,000 spectators.
As a result, General George Washington continued on in the fight, as he led the colonies to victory. George Washington went on to become the greatest hero of the Revolutionary War and the first President of the United States of America ... with a little help from me.
My Parents Disappeared
In fear that this journal might ever fall into the wrong hands, I have avoided for a long time, writing down how I figured out how to travel back in time. But I have changed my mind. If anything should ever happen to me, I hope that whoever might find this journal may be able to do as I have done and continue doing some of the good things I have been able to do - correcting wrongs and making sure that the future turns out as right as it can be.
My journal is filled with illustrations and photographs - and yes, even postcards - of places I have been. But let me make one thing clear, I never traveled back in time for fun. I never meant to do anything bad. All I ever wanted to do was learn from the past and share what I learned with everyone I could. But most of all, the main reasons I continue with time travel is to find my parents who disappeared so long ago.
Historic and ancient artifacts had always surrounded me. While growing up, my house resembled a museum. My parents instilled a great love of history in me for which I am forever grateful.
We used to live in a large brownstone in New York City’s Greenwich Village. One day, my parents told me that they were hired to be Chairpersons of the History Department at an exclusive school in North Carolina. They were retiring from their government jobs that kept them away from home for so long. They added that our new home would be near where my Aunt Hope and Uncle Taylor. They were very excited when they told me that I would love it there, especially the new school where they would teach and I would attend classes.
Two weeks later, my mother and father left on what they said was their last business trip. They were to be gone for only four days. I was used to it. So was Siri, my family’s housekeeper and vegan chef, who would watch over me when my parents were not around. It’s not that I really needed her there. I always considered myself very responsible. I woke myself up very early each morning, got dressed, made my own breakfast (a protein shake or cereal with soy milk), read for awhile, and then ran out the door and went to school. Yes, I was used to my parents being gone. Usually, they tried not to leave at the same time, but sometimes they had to and I understood. This last time was different.
After seven days passed with no calls or communication, Siri called my Aunt Hope and Uncle Taylor, who immediately drove to New York City from North Carolina. As soon as they arrived, they asked if I knew where my parents had gone. I had no idea. They called my parent's office, but no one would reveal (over the telephone anyway) where they were and did not say when they would return. This was not unusual. My parents worked for the U.S. Government. Their work was top secret. None of my family’s relatives or friends knew specifically what my parents did for a living. All anyone ever knew was that my parents had the highest secret service classification. We knew that they held important positions that sometimes brought them face-to-face with the Director of the CIA, FBI, Homeland Security and other government agencies. I knew of at least two times when they were invited to special meetings at the White House to meet directly with the President of the United States.
Of course, I was always told not to ever talk about any of this with anyone at school. No problem. I knew how to keep secrets. I always knew there were few people that could be trusted with secrets … so it was best to keep them to myself. After a few more days, my Aunt and Uncle determined that Siri should take this opportunity to go visit her family in Sweden. They planned to take me to North Carolina until my parents returned. After all, school was going to start soon and I was already registered. Interestingly, with the exception of my parents being missing, everything else was moving along as scheduled. My parents arranged a month earlier that my family’s possessions would be moved to our new home and that we would all simply move straight a way and life would continue on.
I didn’t want to move without my parents. Nevertheless, after so much time passed without any word from either of them I just walked around with a look of hopelessness on my face. I appeared to be very tired and pale, almost sickly, and feeling as if someone had punched me in my stomach. Though I told everyone that I was perfectly willing to remain at home, waiting for my parents to return, I finally gave in, knowing my parents would want me to be with my Aunt and Uncle until they returned. I heard North Carolina was very beautiful and only a ten-twelve hour drive away. I even managed to convince myself that I was eager to move and get my mind off the silence and emptiness around me. Since it was the summer time, my Aunt and Uncle had time off from their teaching positions.
The next day, ten men and women in dark suits showed up at my home in New York City. I actually recognized most of them as friends of my parents, who were also government agents. At least five or six of them used to come over during holidays and celebrations. They spoke to my Aunt and Uncle privately, but I was able to hear some of the conversation from the hallway, where I was told to wait. My parents were on a dangerous case, tracking down stolen historical artifacts, and they had to remain undercover for a very long time. Someone had discovered who they were, but they could not return until the case was fully resolved. I found out they were on a case that concerned national security. They insisted that my Aunt and Uncle leave immediately and take me with them. They said that I might be in danger.
The government agents packed all the furniture and all of our possessions. Once done, I took a lonely, solitary walk around my home. After a few minutes I heard my Aunt and Uncle calling my name. I slowly walked downstairs. It was time to leave.
Leaving New York.
Forever?
*****
Outside of the brownstone, I hugged Siri goodbye and then got into the van. His Uncle began to drive. My Aunt was in the passenger seat. I watched through the back window as we got further and further from the only home I had ever known.
I kept my eyes closed and allowed my mind to take me on a journey through the city I knew so well, breathing in the scents, taking in the sights, hearing the sounds of the city as I drifted off to sleep.
I awoke as Uncle Taylor pulled into a gas station. Aunt Hope turned around. “Come on, Justin, let’s get out and walk around for a few minutes. “Are you hungry?”
My legs ached from sitting still for so long. A quick glimpse of my watch showed we had been driving for four hours. As Uncle Taylor finished putting fuel in the van, my Aunt and I entered a local diner. A waitress walked us to a corner booth near a large window. My Aunt Hope smiled at me.
“I know you’re excited, Justin. You have to be. I know we haven’t told you too much about the place you’re moving to or the school you’ll be attending but there’s good reason for that.”
“What reason could there possibly be?” I inquired.
“Well, for starters, you’ll definitely love it. There is absolutely no doubt about it. Everyone loves it. Yes, it will take some getting used to at first, but once you fit in, you’ll wonder how you ever lived anywhere else.”
“What makes you so sure I’ll fit in?”
Aunt Hope smiled wide. “It’s guaranteed. Believe me, it is the best place on earth. That is why your Uncle and I moved to Asheville many years ago. And that is why your parents applied for the positions they did and were thrilled when they were hired.”
Uncle Taylor approached and sat down beside me. He handed me a book. “We bought this for you yesterday. It’s a book on the history of Asheville. We expect by tomorrow you’ll know as much about Asheville as you know about New York.”
“Thanks,” I said with a slight smile, nodding with appreciation, though my thoughts were a million miles from where the three of us sat.
My Aunt Hope glanced at me. “You’re going to be very surprised by how great your new life will be. A life of adventure awaits you, Justin.”
That got my attention. I could feel my eyes slightly brighten. I wondered what that meant. I finished my lunch and within a minute of getting back into the van I had my new book open. I was ready to learn as much about Asheville as I could.
*****
Asheville is located in Buncombe County, North Carolina, nestled in the mountains where the Great Smokies and the Blue Ridge Mountains...
My Arrival In Asheville, North Carolina
My watch read 10:15 p.m. as my Uncle’s van pulled off the freeway and on to a well-traveled city street. The van zoomed past restaurants and hotels, and then we pulled on to another freeway, through the heavy mists that blanketed the Blue Ridge Parkway. The sky was darkening and a slight rain began to fall. Uncle Taylor slowed down to thirty miles per hour.
The van moved slowly as it pulled on to a dark, unpaved road. This was a one-lane path with trees lining both sides. The radio was off and I could hear the sounds of animals running over leaves, branches moving up and down with the breeze, and up above I saw a group of bright stars. It was the darkest and quietest place I had ever been. I looked out windows on both sides but couldn’t see anything; I knew the trees were close, as the branches continually brushed up against the sides of the van. I looked ahead as the van’s lights showed a barn up ahead. Uncle Taylor pulled in front of it and Aunt Hope unlocked the van's doors.
“Is this it? Is this the school?” I asked.
Aunt Hope let out a slight laugh. “No, this is a barn. We need to park the van here.”
I slid the back door aside and stepped down onto a pile of leaves. My feet sank in and I stepped aside onto a hard dirt path. I shut the door and Uncle Taylor drove the van into the barn.
“Are we walking the rest of the way?” I inquired.
“No. We have another method of transportation. We’re just not allowed to bring the van where we are going. They are forbidden.”
“Forbidden? Why?” I asked in confusion.
“You’ll see soon,” my Aunt promised.
A moment later, I saw a horse and carriage emerge from the side of the barn. They appeared to be similar to the ones I saw on the outskirts of New York’s Central Park. As the horse and carriage approached, I saw that my Uncle was in the box atop. Aunt Hope opened the door to the carriage and my Aunt and I climbed inside.
Seconds later, the carriage was moving, going further down a narrow path towards an unknown destination. The sounds of nature were even louder without the sound of the van’s engine. I heard the sound of rushing water and when I peered out the window of the carriage, I saw that the path become even narrower and was running along side a wide stream. Looking ahead, I saw we were approaching a covered wooden bridge. Clankety clank, clankety clank, as the horse’s shoes hit the wooden planks beneath our feet. Moments later the carriage was on a dirt path on the other side of the stream. Uncle Taylor had brought the horses and carriage to a stagnant halt alongside a small wooden cabin, with a stone chimney blowing smoke into the night sky. In front of the carriage was a large tree trunk, blocking the path. I assumed the structure was part of some sort of gate designed to keep unauthorized people from proceeding further up the long and winding path. I expected a uniformed guard to come out with a clipboard any second, but what emerged from the cabin instead defied my wildest imagination.
“A pigmy! Or at least that was how it appeared from where I was sitting. In reality it was a very small man, perhaps four feet in height, with a long mustache. He looked like a walrus. He was dressed in Victorian clothing from the 1800's.
“Good evening, Professors! We missed you here at the Abbey. Glad to have you two back from the big city.”
“We’re glad to be back. It’s been a long drive. And we have a guest,” my Uncle told the guard.
“Oh, is that so?” he said as he approached the carriage. The small man got closer and stuck his head into the carriage.
“A fine looking lad he is!” the guard said. Suddenly, his hand was placed before me in a friendly gesture. I reluctantly placed my hand upon the mound of flesh with fingers and he and I shared a gentle grasp. My fingers began t tingle and I felt a warmth rush up my hand and arm. I suddenly became very lethargic and my eyes momentarily lost focus.
When the door closed, I heard the guard approach the tree trunk and push it aside, so that the carriage could go through. I asked my self, how could such a small person have such great strength. I peered out the back window and watched him put the tree trunk back to its original position, as the carriage was driven further and further into the deep forest and dark night.
*****
A few minutes passed as the carriage trekked up the dark path. I could barely keep my eyes open. I wondered if the guard did something to me. I felt weird, like I was experiencing a hallucination from sleep-deprivation. It was then that I noticed a series of lampposts filed with small flames, lighting the way towards a gathering of small cottage homes. It was late in the evening and I saw a few people walking around. Though it was dark, I was certain they were not wearing the most modern clothes available in retail stores. In fact, it appeared that the few people milling around were dressed in Victorian styled clothes similar to what the guard was wearing. I assumed there must have been some sort of costume party earlier that day. For a moment, I wished we arrived a day or two earlier so I could have experienced the festivities and taken some photos with my camera, or perhaps I could have drawn some illustrations.
I would have thought about this further, but I was so exhausted from the fourteen hour drive (my Uncle had to drive slow because we hit a lot of rain in Virginia) that I had no memory of falling asleep in the carriage and being led inside, and placed in a bed, in a small room on the second floor of my Aunt and Uncle’s cottage home.
My First Day At Green Abbey
I woke up early the next morning and for a moment I thought I was still asleep and dreaming. I focused my eyes and saw that the room looked like it was straight out of a Hans Christian Anderson story. I heard young children playing and people talking outside. I cautiously approached the window of the bedroom, peered outside, and saw an entire village of people dressed in clothing from another era.
The festival is still going on, was the first thought my head and I was thrilled. When I turned and saw that my luggage was on a side table, I quickly dressed and went downstairs where I saw my Aunt making breakfast on an antique-looking stove. In fact, the whole cottage appeared to be part of some movie set, filled with furniture and items from the 19th century.
The sounds of running water were everywhere around me - and for good reasons, too. There must have been at least half a dozen small fountains in the kitchen and entranceway. I looked around in wonder and awe at my surroundings.
“Okay, Aunt Hope - what is all this?”
My Aunt turned on a blender and then turned it off and poured a protein shake into two mugs and placed them both on the table - one in front of me, the other in front of her. She then poured a bowl of cereal and soymilk into a wooden bowl and placed that in front of me, too. This was my normal breakfast anyway, so I had no problems with anything except ... the wooden spoon.
“The first thing you need to know, Justin, is that we love you and we only want what’s best for you. Your parents fell in love with this place when they visited us for the first time. They assumed you would love it, too, considering your love of history. After all, there is only so much that can be learned from reading about history. Sometimes you have to live it, too.”
“Where’s my home?” I asked.
My Aunt smiled and told me, “Your family’s home is right down the road. Your family’s possessions were put in there last night. You are old enough to stay there if you wish, but you are also welcome to stay here. Now that your cousins are studying in Great Britain, we have two extra bedrooms. No matter what you decide, you are always welcome to have your meals and spend your time here. We’re a family.”
I felt my eyes water up when she said that. I was so concerned about my parents. Where were they? Was I ever going to see them again? I looked down and wiped my eyes and then looked up and tried to eat.
Aunt Hope was silent for a moment. “Your parents will be here soon, Justin. Their … business trip … is just taking a little longer than expected - that is all. They will be here soon. Until then, please remember that you have a choice. You can live here in the room you slept in last night … or you can move into the cottage where your family’s possessions have already been brought. Although it is nearby, we would understand if you felt … lonely.”
I did not know how to respond to what she said so I just finished my breakfast and then my Aunt handed me a book. On the cover were the words: THE GREEN VALLEY STUDENT MANUAL
I told myself I would read it later. I had too much on my mind.
My Attempt To Settle In
The view that I saw from the bedroom was one thing - like looking at an old painting or photo or watching some period piece movie, but a few minutes later I was actually in it. My Aunt led me on a tour of the neighborhood.
In the center of the village was a meeting hall. There were dirt roads that radiated like spokes, about two thirds of a mile from the center and stopped at cul-de-sac gardens. Each cottage was situated on one acre. On opposite sides of the roads, the cottages faced one another. The individual backyards were sanctuaries where people could spend time alone, away from their neighbors if they wished to do so. At the center of each nucleus was a large communal area where children could play, dogs could walk, and people could gather and talk.
My Aunt and I walked on a pressed dirt path and passed her flower garden. We slowly passed little children running around me. I could smell the horses that galloped by. My Aunt led me to a gathering of women dressed in long garments. I was introduced to the ladies who introduced themselves right back, while welcoming me to the Green Abbey Village and School. They all said how happy they were that I moved there and that they looked forward to getting to know my parents. More kind words were exchanged, but I barely paid attention. My mind was fixated on the world around me, the world of make-believe which everyone was living and participating in, as if everything around us was as normal as normal could be. And yet, it was as if this was a trip back in time.
“See, Justin, everyone is real friendly here. Try getting a reception like that in Greenwich Village!” Aunt Hope said as we walked away from the crowd.
I had to admit she was right. I continued to take in the sights of the small village I was in and then stopped in my tracks, I noticed Aunt Hope waving to Uncle Taylor who was beside Silas - the little man who I thought I dreamed up out of an exhausted sleep. Both of them were standing in front of a quaint little cottage, not too similar or too different from all the other cottages in the village. I assumed this was to be my new home. I cautiously approached the front gate leading to the cottage.
“Good to see you again, Justin!” Silas called out, again reaching to shake my hand. Suddenly, my head and stomach began to ache and it felt like the world around me was spinning and I lost my bearings and collapsed into Silas’ arms. Aunt Hope let out a slight scream as Silas lifted me and carried me into the cottage. Uncle Taylor and Aunt Hope followed as Silas placed me down on the couch. My vision was blurry and voices were semi-audible. Looking up, I saw the three adults looking down at me.
Uncle Taylor leaned in close and spoke to me. “This is a lot to take in all at once. Sit here and relax. Take your time. Get up when you wish. Look around at your pace. No one’s rushing you to do anything. This is your home. We’ll leave you with some privacy.” Uncle Taylor stepped back and Aunt Hope stepped up in his place. She rubbed her palm on my forehead and pushed my hair back.
“We’ll be outside, talking to your neighbors. We’ll check up on you later. If you need anything before then, just step outside.” She kissed me on the forehead and followed the men out. I heard the door shut softly as I drifted off and emptied my mind, too confused to sleep, but too tired to get up and investigate the new surroundings. I just wanted to stay still, in one place and be left alone for a little while.
Catrin & Jett
My eyes opened. I must have fallen asleep because I was disoriented for a moment. There was knocking on the front door. I figured that my Aunt and Uncle must have locked it when they left. I looked around curiously at the furniture around me. It wasn’t my family’s furniture. There must have been some sort of mistake, I thought to myself. As I made my way to the front door, I accidentally knocked into some of the boxes that were piled up around the room.
I opened the front door and immediately saw a boy, about my own age and height, standing upright, smiling, and his skin was the color of dark caramel. Next to him was a girl with long butterscotch-colored hair, pale skin, smiling. Her skin tone was slightly lighter than mine. Her eyes sparkled. She was beautiful. They were both dressed as all the other villagers were - as if their clothes were made in another place and time. I managed to greet them with a monosyllable that even I barely heard.
“Hi,” I think I said.
“Justin Tyme?” The girl asked, even though she seemed to already know the answer. Without waiting for my reply she thrust her hand into mine and shook it. “Hi! I’m Catrin.” She then stepped aside as the boy stepped forward.
“And I’m Jett.” He also shook my hand by grasping it instead of just waiting for me to offer it. “We’re your ambassadors,” he added as if I should know what that meant.
My throat was parched and my voice cracked when I asked, “My … what?”
Catrin turned and the smile quickly left her face. “Oh, boy! Here’s another one who didn’t read the manual before arriving. Why do we send these things out? We’re wasting all that paper and it seems no one ever reads it.”
I felt a sudden need to defend myself. “I didn’t get my manual until this morning.”
Another smile formed on her face. “Oh, well, then that’s different. May we come in?”
I stepped aside and let them enter. “It’s kind of a mess,” I did not need to tell them. It was obvious. There were boxes and crates everywhere. Catrin walked past Jett and I. “That’s okay. We’re used to that. In fact, that’s why we’re here. We will help you get situated.” Catrin looked around. “Where are your parents?”
I shut the door, walked into the kitchen, and turned on the faucet. Good. The water ran. Now I needed a glass, I thought to myself. I opened up a cabinet or two but they were empty so I gave up.
“They’re on a business trip.” I told them while I began to open some of the boxes in the kitchen. “They’ll be here soon, I think,” I added while lifting one box onto the counter and putting another one on the floor.
Catrin entered the kitchen, opened one of the cabinets, took out a pewter mug, and placed it in front of me as if she’d done that a million times. I filled the cup with water and sipped slowly. I watched as Jett began to move some of the boxes onto a wooden table similar to the one Aunt Hope and I had breakfast on.
I took a few steps closer to Jett. “Please be careful. These are my father’s boxes. They’re … fragile.” Jett looked up and nodded his head.
“Don’t worry, we’ve packed and unpacked more boxes then you’d care to know. We do this all the time. Say, is the furniture in the right places? Do you need us to help you move anything?”
“Actually that’s funny because it’s not my furniture. There must be some mistake. Whom should I talk to about that?” I inquired. Catrin moved a box aside and began to unload it of its contents - kitchen items. “This is the right furniture. It’s what all the residents have.”
A scowl appeared on my forehead. “I’m not a resident. This is just temporary ... I think.” I wasn't sure why I said that. I was tired and confused and even a bit angry.
Jett threw a serious look at Catrin who immediately turned to me. “My friend, you are here to stay,” Jett said.
A bird swooped down outside the window, entered the cottage for a moment, and then flew back out through the same window where it entered. For some reason I sort of ducked, but neither Catrin nor Jett moved at all. They just stared at me.
“Are you all right, Justin?” Catrin asked. She seemed to be actually concerned about me. She looked at me in a way no one my age ever had before. She looked at me as if she really cared.
“I lived in New York City my whole life.” I quickly told them both.
Jett smiled and said, “We are your friends. You can trust us. You can count on us to answer your questions and always be here for you. We promise.”
I was quiet for long time. I was at a loss of words. I had always tried to have good friends, but it always took a lot of trial and error. So many people had come and gone in my life. So many people had disappointed me and left me when I needed them most, and any friends I ever did have … well, it took work to keep the friendship strong. I never thought there was an opportunity in this world to just wake up one morning and meet two new friends. It was a good feeling running through my heart, but a very strange one. I could not just accept what was happening as easily as Jett and Catrin wanted me to, but I promised myself that I would try. I would try very hard. I could use a friend. Two friends would be even better. And as far as I could tell, these two were as good as any I could ever hope for.
History of Green Abbey School
Located on a hilltop above the Abbey Green Village, the Green Abbey School had architectural ornaments and structures transported from Europe and reconstructed buildings designed to imitate the estates of the 19th century. It was not a copy of any particular structure, but a group of rooms and gardens that suggested and duplicated the European originals. I was fascinated as Jett and Catrin led me closer to the main entranceway of the school.
“Okay, Justin, get ready,” Catrin warned me. “This is the part were I begin to sound like a tour guide.”
“Don’t mind if I look like I’m no paying attention, because I’m probably not. I’ve heard this dozens of times,” Jett added with a slight laugh.
Catrin cleared her throat and began, “Originally built in 1938 by a wealthy and eccentric couple - who by the way were relatives of mine - who wanted to build a unique school where …” and Catrin deepened her voice to sound like her grandfathers, “… those of like mind can study nature, the arts, and any craft, or pursue any course for the betterment of community and earth …” she returned her voice to it’s normal tone as she added, “After six years of construction, the process began to bring in teachers and students. The first students were my relatives and their friends.”
I was amazed at the beauty of the structures around me.
Jett added, “Basically, they felt most schools at the time - and even today - made no effort whatsoever to prepare students for the real world, but merely taught them basic information and made sure they could read and write. That just was not enough. That has never been enough. So, the curriculum here has always been, and always will be, quite different from your normal everyday school. In other words, we really learn great stuff here!”
Catrin cleared her throat loudly. “Okay, can I get back to my tour, please?” Jett smiled and bowed his hand for Catrin to walk past him, continuing her role as the premier tour guide of Green Abbey School.
“The entire property is situated on twenty thousand acres, and over the course of the last seventy years has expanded to include dormitories and classrooms.” Catrin told me.
Jett then told me, “Just so you know this wonderful place is not as expensive as you might think. In fact, it is free.”
The word FREE hit me like a thunderbolt. It didn’t seem possible. How could they afford to let students attends for free? It was a private school. But later, it was explained to me that it didn’t cost anything as long as the students did well in school and the parents - who were also villagers and who lived in the small cottages surrounding the school - did their part to make sure the community thrived. It was explained that I was to help tend to crops, build cottages for new neighbors, and help maintain the school and village.
Some of the student’s parents who were not teachers or gardeners or blacksmiths or carpenters could hold outside employment but were required to make a donation of 33% of their annual income to the school. That sufficiently covered their costs, though they were still expected to help out in the community whenever they had free time.
Catrin then added, “In the beginning, the school was small and everyone lived in the main house, which is now a school. As it expanded, they added earth-friendly buildings for classrooms and living quarters. Green Abbey is essentially divided into four separate responsibilities. The School, Housing, Gardens, and the Village. The founders also worked in close coordination with the area’s remaining Cherokees who were - and still are - welcome to live on the property. Once a year, we and the Cherokees get together and celebrate our strong friendship.”
Catrin and Jett stopped in front of the school’s main door, but before they turned the knob, they looked at me. “Are you ready to enter?” they both inquired.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.
Jett looked at his watch. “Actually, we should do this later. We need to get Justin some clothes before the orientation.”
My head turned sideways in confusion. “What do you mean?” I asked. “I have plenty of clothes.”
Catrin and Jett exchanged smiles that were unlike the ones they had earlier. Their smiles were slightly off center, as if they were holding in laughter that was trying to escape their lips. Jett then said, “Of course you do! But if you want to fit in here, we have to show you how to dress like -”
But I did not hear the rest of his sentence because I began to back up in panic.
“- Okay, hold it right there! All right, I’ll buy the idea that this is an old school, and the teachers and classes are different from the norm. I can also understand that people want to live in these little cottages and get away from the fast-track world out there or whatever, but I am pretty sure that I will not feel comfortable dressing up like some medieval peasant, so forget about that.” I turned and stormed away. As I did I heard Jett and Catrin say in unison, “Another one!” A moment later they caught up to me. Jett then took out a copy of the school’s manual that he had in his back pocket and began to turn the pages until he got to the one he wanted, and placed the book in my hand and motioned for me to read:
Residences and School staff are welcome to dress any way they wish. Those with outside employment still dress in the typical garb that is acceptable in the outside world. But, like the other residences, they make an effort to abstain from any type of product that may have caused death or any harm to any insect, reptile, sea life, animal or nature. Thus, leather and suede shoes, belts, silk, and other items are non-existent here. Certainly, there is not a single resident who would possess any thing of any animal hide, such as leather, sheepskin, Alligator or the like. Given a choice - and we do have a choice - all residents prefer clothing made of hemp, organic cotton and canvas. Though it is not anyone’s intention to be in any way pretentious or a parody of themselves and our lifestyle, most people choose to dress as peasants once did, with men wearing short tunics, belted at the waste. A hood or cloth cap, gloves or mittens, and canvas shoes. The women, for the most part, wear long loose gowns belted at the waste, their heads and necks covered by wimples. Underclothing - when worn - is usually of linen; outer garments are woolen or cotton. These ideals apply even during festivals when we wish to dress up for the festivities. In the same manner of materials, our garment makers create full-skirted jackets, trailing gowns with voluminous sleeves, elaborate headdresses, and pointed shoes for women.
I looked up. “Well, that's no problem. I am vegan. My whole family is vegan. I don't own any leather, suede, silk, or anything else like that.”
“We know, Justin,” Catrin said. “But everyone wants to fit in at school. Your clothes were really progressive when you lived in New York, but here ... well, we just go another step further. Don't freak out. Think about like.... a uniform. We all go to school to learn, and not to be distracted by what we – or others – are wearing.”
A lot of thoughts ran through my head. I was the new kid. I sure didn't want to attract too much attention to myself. I did want to fit in. I then told them, “Without my parents here, I don’t think I have any money to buy clothes.”
Catrin smiled and reached for a small canvas pouch that was dangling from her belt. She untied it and handed it to me. “This is yours.”
I cautiously took the pouch and opened it slowly. I placed my hand inside and when I took it out my fist was filled with wooden coins. I thought it was some sort of joke but Catrin’s face was very serious. A slight smirk formed on her face. I understood.
“And I suppose you two know of a place that will be more than happy to accept these as if they have some sort of value?” I asked.
Jett smiled and answered, “You bet! Come on!” I couldn’t believe I was living in a place where wooden coins would be accepted as money. I was eager to see what I could buy, and how it would all work.
The three of us began running down the hill, away from the school, and towards the Sacred Path that cut through the thin narrow twin hills that my Aunt and Uncle took me through the day before, when I first entered Green Abbey - my new home.
Spending Time With Silas
Along the way we passed Silas’ cottage and saw him tending his garden. He waved us over and we stopped and spent some time with him as he motioned to the variety of vegetables and flowers he was growing. Behind his house was a large field filled with all sorts of animals. I was quickly told that Silas was the gatekeeper for Green Abbey and he kept strangers out, but he spent most of his time taking care of stray cats and dogs as well as cows and chickens. I was told that Green Abbey was an animal-friendly place. Not only were the entire meals vegan, but also the school and village offered a home to abused, neglected, and homeless animals from surrounding cities, as well as throughout the Southeast.
After an hour of drinking tea and eating some of the vegetables he grew in his own garden a look of utter dread crossed Siri's face as he glanced out his window. Catrin and Jett had the same look on their faces. I glanced outside and saw a stretch limousine pull up to the gate. Silas excused himself and went outside. I asked Catrin what the problem was. She explained to me that several wealthy land developers had been trying for years to buy the property that Green Abbey Village and School was located on. Her family always refused. They offered her relatives large sums of money and promised they could still live on the property. In fact, everyone still could. The school could stay, too. They just wanted to turn the place into a tourist attraction. It was explained that people would travel from near and far to see a community as if it were another place and time. Jett then mentioned to me that the same limousine came to the school at least once a month. Silas was always told to turn them away but they managed to get through anyway because the main land developer was a cousin of “Professor Woolkins.”
I asked who Professor Woolkins was and I was told, “He is our history teacher. He is temporarily in charge of the entire history department until your parents arrive.”
Silas returned a few moments later. He explained that the occupants of the limousine were parking the vehicle and walking to the campus to visit Professor Woolkins.
“Why don’t they just leave us alone?” Jess asked and added, “Why in the world do they think they can march in here and try to buy the place? They should just go.”
Silas and Catrin - and I - agreed with Jett.
Green Abbey Village
After we left Silas' house, I followed Catrin and Jett along the river. After a short while I saw it. It was amazing. It looked like something out of a fairy tale. Through the trees was a clearing where a Victorian style village thrived with people and excitement. We passed a sign, which read GREEN ABBEY VILLAGE. I immediately noticed cobblestone streets and cottage-style houses. Shops and carts lined the streets. Residents and workers were dressed in 19th century apparel. Everyone and everything appeared to be as if it were still long ago.
I asked who all the people were. Jett told me that many years earlier, people from nearby cities and towns used to sneak onto the school's property and stare at everyone as they walked around the campus and went about their everyday business. Catrin’s grandfather then decided to create the GREEN ABBEY VILLAGE where residents and locals could shop. It was mainly designed to satisfy the curiosity of those who wondered how everyone in GREEN ABBEY lived, while also providing a great source of income for the school. It was a huge success but it was also what attracted the land developers. It gave them the idea that they should buy the entire property and turn the whole place into a tourist attraction.
Catrin and Jett led me in to many of the shops that sold wonderful items. There was a farmer’s market that sold pumpkins, gourds, solstice trees, hammocks, musical instruments, ciders, bird houses, butterfly houses, fruit, jellies and jams, butters and honey, wild rose syrup. There was even a recycling center where visitors could drop off unused items made of glass, plastic, and paper. It was a wonderful day of exploration. Oh, and I used a lot of my wooden coins. I even bought some peasant clothes.
School Orientation
A large crowd of students filled the outdoor amphitheater. My Aunt and Uncle were seated to my right, while Jett and his family were seated to my left. Catrin was up front with some members of her family. Catrin’s father introduced some of the new professors and then explained the semester’s curriculum to new and returning students.
“All classes are exactly one hour long. Pay close attention because there will be quizzes every Friday and exams at the end of every month. At the end of the semester you and your parents will meet with your teacher to discuss what you learned. If you did not learn what you had hoped to learn, together we will all decide if you should retake the course.” A collective sigh filled the air until the Chancellor added, “In nearly seventy years, no one has ever had to retake a class. No one fails here. The courses are stimulating and will actually help you to live a good life.”
There were many courses in history, especially in American History:
Native-American History: Eastern United States
Native-American History: Southern United States
Native-American History: Western United States
Native-American History: Northwestern United States
Native-American History: Southwestern United States
Colonial History
The Federalist Era
The Age of Nationalism
The Age of Sectionalism
The Antebellum Era
The Civil War & The Early Modern Age
The Gilded Age
The Modern Age & Global War
Reconstruction Era
The Age of Prosperity & Depression
The New Deal to the Fair Deal
I wondered to myself why there was such a heavy concentration on American History, especially Native-American History. There were additional courses in:
European History
Asian History
Literature
Math for real life
Amazing Science
Alternative Medicine
Husbandry
Herbology
Artwork & Design of the Romance Era
Artwork & Design of the Classical Age
Artwork & Design of the Realistic Age
Artwork & Design of the Federal Era
I smiled and wondered what my schoolmates in New York would think of such a curriculum. I then read the list of one-hour seminars being offered:
Art Appreciation
Music Appreciation
Animal Appreciation
Mythology and Religion
Evolution
There were recreational classes, electives such as:
Ballroom dancing
Yoga
Tai Chi
Hiking
Biking
White Water Rafting
Swimming
The Chancellor then closed his speech and received thunderous applause, even though he also mentioned that students of Green Abbey School were expected to attend classes year round with a handful of weeklong breaks spread throughout the year.
Entering the Labyrinth
Later that evening, after supper, Catrin and Jett led me to a hedge maze, which was between two small hills. At first, I was hesitant to enter but soon I followed without a beat when Catrin entered and said, “Come on! This labyrinth is a breeze! I know my way in and out of this thing, backwards and forwards. Trust me!” Jett entered without hesitation, and I had no reason not to trust them.
Catrin turned and looked directly at me. “I used to be a big believer in superstitions. I knew nearly all of them and their history. For example, if a candle burns blue, it is supposed to be a sign that there is a spirit in the house. After some research I realized that it’s merely the result of sulfurous or notorious particles.”