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A historical fiction selection:

The Adventures of Andwan Wingsweep, the Winged TimeJumper

By Andrea Camoriano

Series 1: The Colonial American Saga

Book 1: The Colonies

Chapter 1: The Journey Begins

          It was 9:15 in the morning.  The kids were handing in their proposals for their American History projects and being approved.  Brian “Arthritis” Ankeney was going to build a model of Williamsburg as it had been in the early 1600’s and 1700’s, using all the help, books, Internet resources, and maps he could lay hands on.  His project went hand-in-hand with that of his classmate, Andwan Wingsweep, who was standing up now to present her proposal.

          “Miss Roberts,” she announced, flipping her wings in agitation, “I’m going back in time to the early part of the 18^th century to learn firsthand what life was like back then.”  Andwan, besides having a pair of fully-functional wings on her back, could travel backward through time to points of historical interest, provided there was an event at a particular place and time for her to home in on.  Once in the past, she could return to her own place in time at will.

          It was the need for a specific event, however, which made Miss Roberts frown.  “Is there an event in the history books for you to use as a beacon, Andwan?” she asked.

          Andwan nodded.  “Yes, ma’am.  The Scots-Irish Migration took place at about the time I’m looking for in Pennsylvania.  Once I get to the harbor, I should be able to find someone bound for Williamsburg.”

          Ankeney, also called “Ritis,” looked at his classmate with respect; although the students there each had impressive abilities, Andwan’s could produce spectacular results, provided she had a good back-story.  She tried to make those back-stories worthy of the Witness Protection Program when she thought them up, and he thought he had a way to make it a bit better.

          “Andwan,” he began, “do you think I could tag along?  I could pose as a male relative, and I’d be able to guard your back and pick up some information at the same time.”

          Andwan looked at him and smiled.  “Sure, come by my place after school and we’ll work on our costumes and back-story.”  She turned to Miss Roberts.  “Is it all right, Miss Roberts?”

          Miss Roberts was still a bit skeptical.  “Will you be bringing anyone back with you besides Ritis?” she asked, knowing Andwan could sometimes carry several people through time with her.

          Andwan considered it for a moment.  “That’s an interesting proposition,” she said.  “I can see how Ritis and I adjust to life in the 1700’s, then bring someone forward to see what their reaction is and help loosen that rigid thinking system of theirs a bit.  Imagine, treating women as unthinking drones!  I think the Celts had the right idea---the women could pack a punch big enough to overrule their men, when necessary!”

          Miss Roberts nodded.  “You’re both to go back in time to the Scots-Irish migration or any other event more suitable to your time frame, go to Williamsburg, and learn.  Try to stay near the outskirts of town if you can, but don’t do anything out of character.  Also, try to study some of the smaller towns and villages---you may pick something up.  When you come home, bring someone along, but only if he or she comes along willingly.  Oh, and bring Rusty, Hannon, and Distie with you, if they’re willing to go.  You may need musical backup, Andwan.”  All the students had different abilities, and always in combination.  Although all the students here had different abilities, they all had one thing in common.  Music tended to amplify their powers, and playing in a group focused the amplified power.  That was why all the students played at least one instrument.

          Andwan and Ritis looked over at the three boys in question.  They, in turn, looked around at each other.  “I’m in,” they said in unison.

          Andwan and Ritis smiled.  The five agreed to meet at Andwan’s to prepare for the trip.  Calls were made to the children’s parents, who agreed to the trip and organization meetings.

          Once everyone else had turned their project proposals in, the class got to work studying the monarchies ruling England and Scotland in the Middle Ages.

          After school, the five students piled into Ritis’ car and began the 15-minute drive to Andwan’s house.  Andwan, being the only one who could read in the car without getting carsick, had borrowed a couple of history books from Miss Roberts and was now busily searching for the state of the world between 1680 and 1720.

          “Well,” asked Distie, an emotic, or psychic of emotions, “what have you got, Andwan?”

          Andwan looked up, an expression of concern on her face---a look she generally got when she was deep in her studies or knew of a friend in need of assistance.  “This jump isn’t going to be easy,” she said.  “I’m going to need to know how to spin, weave, dye cloth, shear sheep, cook, clean, and a thousand and one other things.  We’re all going to need to know the King James Bible, cover to cover, something called a ‘catechism,’ and when to talk or not.  You guys are going to need to know how to hunt, farm, talk politics, and be good diplomats---there have been some early American foreign ambassadors who have been less than twenty, the Ambassador to Russia being a good example.  He was only fourteen!”

          Somebody whistled in amazement.  “We need to know all that?” Hannon, who spoke with animals, asked.  “Why?”

          Andwan looked at Hannon skeptically.  “These people are farmers, Hannon, which means livestock and crops.  Then there’s the fact that these people are so religious that it’s like they exude piety!  You can practically see it in the air if you look hard enough!”

          “And where, Professor,” asked Ritis, his smile taking out the sting and his face and voice saying he was serious, “would we find some of this brand of piety I’ve heard you say we gotta avoid?”

          “Well, there’s the example of the Salem Witch Hunts, and there’s when Anne Hutchinson was exiled to Rhode Island because she and the other ladies discussed her interpretation of the Bible, if you want two examples,” she informed him.  “There’s definitely more I haven’t read about yet.”

          There was quiet for several minutes, and then Andwan was steering Ritis up the street toward her house, and he was parking in the driveway.  The five collected their school bags and Andwan’s laptop computer from the trunk, then trooped up to the living area of the extra garage Andwan’s father had built in the back yard.

          Upstairs, Andwan cleared the table of debris and opened her laptop bag.  Placing the laptop on the table, she now turned to her backpack, withdrawing from it a power cable and an Internet hookup cable.  The boys helped her plug her computer into the wall.  Andwan turned it on and the boys sat down, two on either side of her, as they all waited for it to fully boot up.  While they waited, they began to think of ideas for names and a back-story.

          “The four of you, with the possible exceptions of Distie and Rusty, can keep your first names,” Andwan said, while her computer bleeped to show it was almost on.  “But I’ll have to change my whole name while we’re there; if they hear my real name, they’ll have me in the gaol before you can blink, pending an inquisition on charges of suspected witchery.”

          “Would they take all of us,” asked Rusty, “or just you?”

          “Well, they’d certainly take me,” she replied.  “You four, they might take, on suspicion that I might have tried to sway you to the guy in The Other Place.  Not Heaven, but That Other Place.  On the other hand, they may assume that, big, tough men like you, who are so-called ‘morally superior’ because of your gender, will be morally and physically able to withstand a girl who can’t possibly outweigh or outfight you.  They’d assume you would be able to beat me down and turn me in.  You’re going to be expected to be morally superior to all women, or at least act like it.  I’ll be expected to act like an airhead, weaker in the way I already mentioned, and interested only in housework, going to church twice a day on Sunday, and reading the Bible.”

          “That last won’t be too difficult,” Distie said, looking a bit grim.  “You love to read.  You’ve already read through huge chunks of the Bible, you said yourself on more than one occasion you love a good story and the Bible’s full of them.”

          Andwan gazed down at her computer, a faraway look and a grim smile on her face.  “Yeah.  I have.  I just get very angry when I think about the way I’d be treated and expected to act in the 1600s and 1700s.  I mean, think about it.  I remember reading in a book about women who have had a role in changing history---it was called They Led the Way---about this American politician’s wife during the American Revolution.  While he was off at the Continental Congress, debating with the other guys about how to win the war and what the Constitution would say and do, she stayed home, took care of the kids, and wrote him letters full of advice he used as his own.  Then she sent him a letter asking him to give women a station in American society that would be equal to a man’s.”

          “What did he write back to her?” Rusty asked.

          Andwan’s face tightened.  “The language he used said he was laughing at her.  Women outnumbered men by a sizeable amount back then, and yet they were expected to stay out of the way and serve while the men were sitting around yakking.”  She looked around at her friends.  “If you guys ever do that to me, I will clean your clocks.”  She tried to keep her emotions back, a reflex she had learned as a small child who was an easy target for the school bullies, but Hannon was an emotic.  He could feel that she was angry with that long-ago politician for blowing his wife off and she needed to know that she could rely on those she trusted not to do the same to her.

          The others didn’t have Hannon’s abilities, but they could see the way her muscles tensed, her eyes narrowed, and the sudden glint, glare, and shine that appeared in them, and they came to the same conclusion.  Distie leaned forward.

          “Andwan,” he said.  She looked up, wiping her eyes to keep from crying.  “Andwan, we swear we won’t treat you like that politician.  He sounds like an arrogant jerk, and we know you’re our only safeguard in that time zone, to keep us from doing something incredibly stupid.  Listen, if I do something you don’t approve of, let me know, and I’ll do as you say.  We’ll need you to keep our skins in one piece.”  The others nodded to show their agreement.  She smiled and relaxed, imminently relieved.

          The computer’s Internet access was already plugged in.  Andwan turned it on, and passed out pens and paper so the guys could take notes to help with the research.  It was time to search the past for the state of the world.

(…to be continued next week)
 

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