Patriots: Boston

Chapter Sixteen Dismissed

I woke up the next morning on the ratty old rug by Zeb and Isaac's bed. I woke up happy because I knew Isaac was alive. However, he was been the first one to go to sleep last night, and he had hobbled through town all day, so he was probably exhausted. I knew I had to get going for work. I stood up and walked over to the trap door.
"Liza," Zeb whispered, "come back to sleep."
"I need to go to work," I whispered.
"Don't go to work!" Zeb said, annoyed. "Come on! He just got back! I need to work in the store today and there will be no one to watch him or keep him company!"
  "I need to go," I persisted. "When Isaac wakes up, tell him to be quiet. He's not really supposed to be here, you know."
"Right! Oh god why did we bring him in? There's no getting him out!" Zeb said, cringing.
"You really were just going to leave him outside in the rain that started after we came in?" I asked angrily.
"No, you're right, but what if someone finds him?" Zeb asked.
"My mother can't fit up the trap door, my father doesn't like the idea of invading your space," I explained.
"What about the children?" Zeb asked.
"When you go down to work today, close the door and put something over it so that only you can lift it," I suggested. "But maybe tell Isaac you're doing it."
"That's a great idea!" Zeb said.
"Thanks, now I have to go," I said.
"Don't stay so long at work! Come home by supper!" Zeb called after me as I shot my legs down the trap door and ladder.
"I'll try," I called.
I walked to the Harold house and worked there all day. Mrs. Harold had me set a evening tea table for her and some British officers, but she thought I would embarrass her so she sent me home at six. I went home, excited to actually eat supper with my family for the first time in forever. When I got home, something sent me into a panic.
"Why did you not come home for so long?" I heard Constance's little voice ask.
"Well, I got hurt, and I needed the doctor and your sister to take good care of me before I could come home," Isaac said simply. I could tell he was probably being cute with her.
"Ma and Papa will be anxious to see you," Constance giggled.
"Yes they probably will be. Where are they?" Isaac asked.
I ran up to the loft as fast as I could.
"Constance, come here," I said sternly. "What are you doing up here?"
"I wanted to see him!" Constance said innocently.
"One second, Isaac," I whispered as I pulled Constance down the ladder. "Who else knows he's here?!"I asked forcefully.
"Eleanor and Zeb," she said, "That's it. Should I not tell Dolly and Billy?"
"Do not tell anyone!" I said.
"Why? He's been gone for over a month!" Constance asked.
"Ma told me never to see him again and he doesn't have a job here anymore! Now, don't tell anyone else he's here, and don't tell him he's out of work and he's banned from seeing me! He'll die! Alright?!" I explained furiously.
"Alright!" Constance said gravely.
"Now run along and play," I said.
  She ran off to Eleanor and Dolly who were sewing on their samplers, something I hadn't done in months. I ran back up to Isaac.
"You want anything? Food? Water? Medicine? Do you need medicine?" I asked Isaac.
"I refuse to take anymore of that pain killer drug!" He said firmly. "I swear, I saw my parents!"
"Again?" I asked.
"No, back when I was at Doctor Warren's. You were there, weren't you? They seemed to really be there! My mother and father came and talked to me and said they were proud of me!" Isaac said.
  "I'm awfully sorry, but they're dead, Isaac. We saw them die! The house burning and the bayonet-"
  "Please don't remind me, Liza. It hurts," he said in a sad tone I had never heard before.
  "I'm sorry," I said, "but you do know they weren't really there, right?"
  "I know, I just don't want to become a maniac again, even if it was nice," Isaac said sadly.
  "It wasn't easy to see you like that," I said, shuttering. "Everyone, even the doctor said you would die. You didn't, and I refused to accept that you would. I need you in my life."
  "I don't know where I would be without you either," Isaac said with a smile. "Seriously, without you I'd be dead. You saved me from Lexington, you cared for me and visited me even when it hurt you. No one has ever done that for me. Thank you."
  "You're welcome," I smiled. "Are you feeling alright?"
  "For now," he said. "My leg only hurts a little, maybe I can try walking!"
  He looked a little too excited. He threw aside his blanket and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
"Don't!" I said.
  He placed his feet on the ground. He tried to put weight on his good leg. Of course, he was still very weak and unstable. He pushed up onto his feet but immediately yelled out in pain and fell onto the floor, not moving. I screamed. It all happened so fast! I ran over to him as he lay on top of his broken arm and the rest of his limbs sprawled out.
  "Liza! What was that?!" My father shouted.
"Sorry, I just tripped!" I lied.
"You're home early!" My mother called.
"Yes, yes I am!" I called back. "Isaac. Isaac!" I whispered harshly.
He groaned.
"Can you hear me?" I asked, freaking out.
"I can hear you," he mumbled in pain.
Eleanor popped her head up from the trap door. When she saw Isaac she gasped.
"Get Zeb!" I mouthed.
She ran off and fetched him obediently. Zeb looked horrified.
"What happened?!" He asked, in shock.
"He tried to walk!" I cried.
"And you didn't stop him?!" Zeb scolded.
"I tried!" I snapped.
"What do we do?!" Zeb asked angrily. "Can we even move him?"
"Do it, just be gentle," I ordered.
  Zeb picked Isaac up and put him back into the bed. Isaac was wincing and gasping again.
  "Did you hurt yourself again?!" I asked fearfully.
"My arm!" He breathed.
"May I?" I motioned to his sling.
"Fine!" He gasped.
I took the sling off and rolled up his sleeve to see if any more damage had been caused. His upper arm was more swollen now. He had thankfully not reopened the wound, but he may have made the break worse.
  "Oh dear, that doesn't look good. You also seem more out of it!" I observed.
  "I smacked my head on the floor," he said, breathing heavily.
  "Don't try to walk!" I scolded.
  "Excuse me for wanting some freedom back! I've been bored out of my mind since the battle! I haven't been able to move!" Isaac complained.
  "I'm sorry, but we can't have you re-injuring yourself! Then you'll really not be able to move," I said.
  "Liza! Help me get ready for supper!" My mother called.
  "I'll save you some," I said to Isaac as I ran down the ladder.
  "You're alright, Isaac?" Zeb asked.
  "Yeah, yeah, I guess," Isaac breathed.
  "I really ought to swing by Doctor Warren's and pick up some of that medicine," Zeb said.
"No, don't do that, Zeb! I don't need it," Isaac insisted.
"Alright, but don't let us come back from supper to you passed out from pain," Zeb said seriously.
"I'm stronger than that," he said.
  Then Zeb came down to the kitchen.
  "What were you two doing up in the loft?" My mother asked.
  "Tidying it up," I said. "Zeb leaves it a pig sty without Isaac!"
  "Oh please, we aren't missing anything that boy brought!" My mother said rather loudly.
  "I don't know Mrs. Byers," Zeb said.
  "If you feel that we are short of staff, Zebulun, we can start looking for a replacement apprentice! Anyone would be better than that one who almost got my daughter killed!" my mother shouted.
"Ma, you're very loud," I said as calmly as I could.
"What? You really think that boy can here me in hell?" My mother laughed.
"'Ma!" I shouted angrily.
"What has gotten into you, Liza? I would have thought working for the Harold's would have mellowed you out!" She said, annoyed.
"You mean crushed her spirit?" Zeb asked angrily.
"What, Zebulun?" My mother asked, disgusted.
"They don't treat her right!" He said.
"When have you ever gone to such a civilized place as the Harold's?" My mother asked.
"I was invited to tea one day, which of course I took none, but she just happened to serving the party. They treated her horribly! They hit her! They make her serve tea to our enemies!" Zeb ranted.
   "I don't need your defending, Zeb," I said.
  "It's about time someone disciplines my daughter in a nice hard way," my mother said happily. "Take this food to the table please."
   "But Mrs. Byers," Zeb said. "The way those people handle things is extreme!"
  "Well, how much experience have you had with sophisticated members of society, Zebulun? You lost your parents when you were little, you lived with your uncle until you came and worked for us when you just eleven years old. We are some of the most forgiving people you could ever work for-"
"Yet you fired Isaac," I said angrily.
"He will only lead you to trouble. End of discussion," My mother said tersely. "Go get the milk."
"Yes, Ma," I mumbled.
  Soon we all sat down to dinner, that is, all except Dolly.
"It's certainly nice to see you eating with us, Liza," Father Ignatius said cheerfully.
"It's nice to be here," I said awkwardly.
Father Ignatius then said grace and we started eating.
"Wait!" My mother said. "Where is Dolly?"
  Dolly ran in quickly. "I'm right here, Ma!" She said brightly.
"Where were you?" My mother asked.
"Up talking to Isaac!" She said, jumping up and down.
I must have looked scared, and Zeb turned bright red.
  "What, Dolly?" My father asked, flabbergasted.
  I gave Dolly a look that meant "be quiet!" She didn't understand.
  "He's up in the loft!" Dolly said with a smile.
  "WHAT?! HOW?! Don't lie, Dolly! It's wrong! Zebulun! Liza! Do you know anything about what she's talking about?!" My father shouted.
"Yes, Papa!" Dolly said. "Constance told me that Liza told her not to tell anyone that he was up there!"
My father looked at me with madness, "Liza?!"
"Papa," I said, trying to hide my fear.
"I'm going to check the loft now, and I better not find the boy we banned you from seeing!" He roared.
  My father stormed out of the room, pulling me by the hand. My mother followed, and Zeb snuck behind.
"Papa! No!" I cried.
My father squeezed up through the trap door. I followed.
"Zebulun, help me get up there!" my mother ordered.
Zeb obediently pushed her up through the trap door. He came up out of breath.
"Isaac, what do you think you're doing?" My father demanded.
"Oh, I'm sorry, sir," he said smiling, "but I'm in too much pain to come down to supper."
"I mean WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!" My father shouted.
"Well, I was feeling better, so I thought I'd come home," Isaac said, surprisingly calmly.
"Aren't you aware that you're contract is no longer in effect because you broke it by going into battle and putting our daughter in danger?!" My father roared, shaking me.
Isaac grew pale as a ghost. "What?" He choked.
"Liza, you didn't tell him? I know you snuck out that day with Father Ignatius!" My mother taunted.
"Now you wait just a second," Father Ignatius called from downstairs. "I invited her to come to a sacrament!"
"You knew that you weren't allowed to see him ever again, Elizabeth Byers!" My mother screamed. "You'll have to go, Isaac!"
"Where is he going to go?!" I shouted angrily.
"You'll have to find work somewhere else, Isaac," my father said plainly.
"S-sir, If I could tell you how terribly sorry I am for breaking my contract-" Isaac was cut off by my father.
"If you want to join the army so much, go join the army! I can't deal with you putting my daughter in danger!" He snapped. "If the army doesn't work out for someone who has never shot off a gun in his life, I'm sure there are other apprenticing positions out there in Boston."
  "But Papa!" I cried. "You can't turn him out in the condition he's in! He can't get a job like this!"
  "I would say," Father Ignatius said popping his head up from the trap door hole, "that's just cruel."
"No, I can go how I am. I hobbled across town like this, I can get out of your home," Isaac said submissively.
"Isaac, no! You fell and broke your arm even more when you tried to stand earlier! You simply can't send him out now!" I was ready to cry now.
"Liza, he's going!" My mother said flatly.
"You're killing him by doing this!" I screamed, tears escaping from my eyes.
I looked at Zeb, who had stayed silent for the whole conversation. He finally spoke up. "Mr. and Mrs. Byers, that does seem a little cruel to kick him out right now."
"Isaac, you can leave, now," my father said sternly.
"Liza, my crutch please," he whispered in shock.
"No," I whispered. "You're not leaving!"
"I'll walk without it," Isaac threatened.
I handed it to him. He took his good arm and placed his hand on the small of my back. He pulled me closer to him. He then touched my cheek and held his hand there. This was a similar position to the one we had been in the night he had left for Lexington. I put my arms around his neck. I looked into his deep and never ending brown eyes.
  "No," I whispered.
  He stared into my light blue eyes and seemed to be leaning in a bit. My mother grabbed me roughly and pulled me away. Isaac sat down shakily, somehow make his way down the ladder, I handed him his crutch and he stood on the main floor. I pulled away from my mother's grasp and quickly climbed down the ladder.
"Don't go, Isaac," I whispered.
He just looked at me and hobbled out the side door. I tried to run after him but my mother grabbed my wrist again.
"You disrespectful little-" my father cut her off.
"Liza, I can't believe you would bring him into the house like that! Especially if you knew you were never to see him again!" My father scolded.
"You speak of him like he's a dog!" I cried angrily. "I thought you loved him like a son!"
"Liza, he's our employee who took our daughter where she could have been killed-" My mother snapped.
"I followed him! It was all my choice! I couldn't bear to lose him! Now he's dying at your hands!" I interrupted in a rage.
"Now, Liza, he still broke his contract, and you are still engaged to Zebulun! We had to let him go!" My father said, annoyed with the fact I was being so emotional.
  Zeb looked scared and tried to cut me off.
"Would you do this to Billy or one of your own sons?!" I screamed, crying.
"Isaac's not my son," my father said tersely.
"But he hasn't got a father!" I shouted. I thought of a good thing to say, but I was sort of afraid to say it. I had never heard much about my grandfather William Byers. All my father had ever said was, "My father wasn't around when I was growing up." I decided to try and strike a nerve, even though I feared the consequences.
"Papa," I said. "You didn't have a father either. Do you really want anyone to grow up like that?! He saw a father figure in you and you threw him out after he did just one thing! Remember the story Father Ignatius read about the prodigal son? The father in that story? Ma, you were like his mother while he was here! He saw you as his parents!"
"And I see you as mine too," Zeb said quietly.
  My parents looked shocked and uncomfortable, but I could tell they didn't want to let me win.
"Liza, Zeb, Father," my mother said, her voice tight, "back to supper."
We all marched back to the supper table to some rather terrified looking children. I feared they had heard me address Father Ignatius instead of Grandfather, but they must not have. The supper was awkwardly silent, and I didn't eat a thing.
"Liza, clear the table and clean up the kitchen," my father ordered.
I saved my plate and washed all the other dishes. Once that was done I waited until everyone else had gone to bed. I ran to the closet with extra blankets and got one that was very thick. Grabbed my plate, which still had food on it, and went outside into the pouring rain with a lantern. I saw Isaac lying under a bush against the building. He was soaking wet and cold.
"Isaac?" I whispered. I ran over to him.
He looked weak, but angry.
"How about we at least get you under the back porch," I offered.
"How long have you known?" he shivered.
I sighed, "A month or so."
"Liza, you should have told me," he said, a hopelessness in his voice.
"Well, you couldn't be disturbed or stressed out when I first found out," I said.
"Liza, you should have told me," he sneezed.
"I'm not sorry," I said sadly.
"What?!" He asked angrily.
"I refuse to let you die, no matter what happens," I whispered.
"We're not to see each other again?" He asked.
"Well, my parents don't want us to, but how can I listen to that?!" I asked, sort of laughing. "Come on, I'll help you under the porch. I have food and a blanket for you. Hypothermia is the last thing you need."
"You and your fancy words," he smiled weakly.
"I just mean you'll catch a really terrible cold. You're more vulnerable now," I said.
He sat up and I pulled him to his feet. I then helped him over under the porch. I spread the blanket over him and handed the plate to him.
"Thank you," he said. "Wait, your family never has leftover food! You didn't eat, did you?"
"I'm fine," I said. "You're sick. You need it more than I do."
"Come on, you work your tail off for everyone, especially for me. You eat," he said passionately.
"No, you need to eat more!" I insisted.
"Seriously, I can stand to skip a meal," he smiled, picking up a piece a bread.
"No-"
He had shoved the slice into my open mouth and was laughing, for the first time in a long time! I of course spooned some corn kernels into his mouth while he was laughing. Much to my dismay, he started choking! I shook him and grabbed him by the middle.
Before I could really squeeze, he said. "Aww, thanks for the hug."
"You were faking?!" I asked in disbelief and annoyance.
"It was a test. You are insanely quick and will do anything for me I guess!" He laughed.
"That's not funny! You scared me!" I said giving him a little smack in the face.
He just laughed and gave me a hug with his good arm. "Stay outside with me tonight? Watch the rain? Just you and me like old times?"
"Of course," I smiled.