Becoming a Founding "Father"- Historical Hamilton

Chapter Seven: The Inn in Boston

Hamilton first came to America in 1772, not 1776.

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"Holy shit- we live," I breathe out, and Alexander chuckles, obviously tense. 

"Thankfully so." We both smell of smoke as we scramble off of the ship as fast as we can. The port is packed with people and we stick as close to each other as we can. Thankfully, we didn't lose any of our belongings in the ship- thanks to Alexander counting and recounting all of our items out of boredom.

Well, that was until the ship caught fire, but I don't want to think about that right now. Boston awaits us.

Turns out, that letter he wrote all those months ago was important- from what Alexander told me, that letter impressed someone so much that he got some kind of university in New York. 

King's College, he said with sparkles in his eyes, I'm going to King's College!

I've never seen anyone this excited to go to school. This is what trauma does to you, I'm sure.

King's College is in America, which apparently wasn't where we lived. I was so shocked at learning that fact- after all, Alexander Hamilton was Alexander Hamilton, and as far as I knew, you can't get more American than him.

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"Wait, so where do we live?" I asked him after he told me that. "Britain?"

"Britain? Oh, I wish, that would be a dream come true," he said, and cut himself off from that thought. "I suppose I do have Scottish blood, but no, Solomon, we're currently residing in the Caribbean."

"The Caribbean? Like 'Pirates of the Caribbean'?"

"Pardon me?"

"It's nothing, sorry." Well, at least the weather made sense now. But I would've thought that the Caribbean would have been more exotic and less... poverty. Other than the boiling temperatures, there was nothing that resembled a holiday resort in that place. 

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After finally figuring out where I was after all this time, nothing much changed. I always knew I was in a place named St Croix, but the fact that an American historical figure didn't live in America was a bit jarring to me.

Moving on, when the town heard that Alexander was going to go to New York, and they raised him enough money to go to New York and survive there. But that didn't stop there- with extra help, they helped get enough money for me, too. I had leaned from the baker that Alexander insisted on me going with him, which made me feel bittersweet. Of course I'm happy that he's not leaving me alone, but he's also making stupid decisions regarding his situation- from what I've heard this was a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity- he can't just let me ruin that for him.

So, after a very stressful few weeks on a boat (I had soon discovered that Alexander had both motion sickness and a terrible fear of drowning) we had finally reached Boston harbour. "I never wish to travel by boat again," Alexander complained, and I felt the exact same.

"Sadly, we'll have to in a week. But then we're in New York!" Alexander looked uneasy at the prospect of travelling again. "But right now, there's a room waiting for us- let's get it before someone else gets the chance!"

Our residency for this week will be in a small inn. It's obviously not very fancy- I've learnt that Alexander couldn't afford anything expensive a very long time ago (is he really Hamilton?)- but it's cosy. The light from the lanterns painted the inn in a soft glow, making an inviting atmosphere.

"Can we get a room for two, sir?" I notice an old piano sitting in the corner, silently asking to be played. Sadly, I can only play very simple melodies. Maybe I'll get a chance to play it during our stay.