A Different Kind Of Revolution

Chapter 2

Charles had only just laid down in his bed when the first cannon fire sounded off. He jolted right back up from his bed and had his window fly open, the August heat hitting his face even in the evening. His view from the window showed the revolutionaries rushing through the streets, on their way out the city.

Charles grabbed his coat and rushed to the pub area of the inn. He's stayed here for only a week. There was a crowd of people pressed against the window watching the commotion.

"What's going on?" Charles couldn't see over the mass of people blocking the window. All Charles go see where the shadows of the soldiers marching past.

"There's a battle goin' on in Long Island sir" Abigail spoke up, coming up from behind Charles.

"Long Island?" Charles was perplexed by the news. From what he understood the rebels had full control of all of New York. Abigail nodded.

"The British are gonna be knocking up on our doors quite soon I reckon." Whispered Abigail, walking away from the crowd looking out the window at the action. Charles turned back to the crowd watching the soldiers. Charles climbed back to his room so he can get a better view of the chaos. He watched soldiers rush to secure protection of Manhattan in case the battle spread here. He couldn't imagine being down there in the madness and heat of battle. He was much better behind a desk and in a courtroom. He new he wasn't to get sleep with the distant sounds of canon fire on an entirely separate island. He watched from above till the last soldier ran past, musket in hand. Charles was perplexed at it all. He still heard the cannon fires and musket fires from far in the distance. Despite this fact, he felt his eyes get heavy and droopy with exhaustion. He would find out the situation in the morning he supposed.

"This is getting absurd," Charles said to Abigail who was bringing in his lunch for the day. It has been three days of fighting. The fighting has advanced up to Brooklyn heights. The British found a weak spot and broke through. Charles couldn't tell if cannon fire has gotten closer or farther.

"These battles do seem to drag on for ever" Abigail sighed; leaning against the desk Charles was sitting at. He just sighed and nodded.

"Do you think the British will reach Manhattan?" He questioned taken a bite of the lukewarm soup that was served. Abigail just shrugged it off and looked out the window.

"There's really no way of telling. With any luck they stay far away from here" she prayed as she picked up the morning dishes and leaving Charles alone with his book. He hasn't left the inn since he arrived to America. It was starting to show. His skin slightly paled from the lack of sun light and his felt the heavy bags underneath his eyes. The stress of figuring out an alternative plan now that hes here in America often kept him up at night, that and him dedicating himself to working on his book as any kind of distraction. As much as the battle seemed to be knocking on their very doorsteps life from outside his window seemed to continue. Women went to the market with their children in tow. Men discussed the ongoing news of the war. Then there was Charles, withering away in his dark and dreary room. He glanced down at his common book. He was nearly half way done with it. He desperately needed a change of sceanery. He grabbed his coat and made his way down the stairs.

"Finally stepping out?" the voice of the woman he first met when he rented his room stopped him. He soon learned her name was Frances. Her husband owned the establishment but he was often out and she practically ran the place. Charles just gave a soft smile.