12 Strokes of Midnight

Chapter 11

CopyrightⒸ 2019 by B. R. Bailey All Rights Reserved

Dear Journal,

A lot has happened in the last week. I'm still pinching myself on occasion just to remind myself that this is real and I'm really in Ancient Greece! Archimedes has been commissioned by the King Hieron II to protect Syracuse from assault by the Romans. The Punic Wars. Of all the places to drop into...but Archimedes is here and I'm working with him, so it's hard to stay horrified for long.

It would be different if the war were currently hot...I know the fighting won't start for a few more years...

In the last 7 days, I've been all over the city, learning about it and the people who live here.

Archimedes was right when he said that inventions save lives. Anywhere with lack of fresh water has a higher rate of mortality and disease. The wells and terra cotta plumbing are expanding all of the time, spreading out across the city and the entire country for that matter.

Water makes the city cleaner, the people healthier, and everything smells way better.

Ugh. I never knew the past smelled so bad.

People are covered in sweat, dirt, grime and all other manner of muck based on what their profession is. You'd think most would at least wash their hands before eating, and wash their food, but most don't.

It's no wonder the average lifespan is less than 40 years old in areas with limited access to fresh water.

The freshwater areas average 50 plus years old.

To think that something as simple as concrete and terra cotta could make such an astounding difference in the way that people live.

Archimedes has taught me a lot in the last 7 days. He really is obsessed with water. Every afternoon we go down to the beach and stare out at the water, mostly quiet with our own thoughts.

Then we come home and the charcoal and papers come out, ready to be filled with new theorems and ideas.

Wonderfully mysterious, that's what Archimedes says about our world. If he had any idea how truly mysterious it is!

Everything night I'm left awake, listening to the crickets outside, waiting to hear what my mind says shouldn't be there. Yet, for as much as I say "impossible", each night is the same. At the dead of night, the tolling sounds, growing by one as each day passes, shaking the entire world as goosebumps break over my chilled flesh.

Is it a warning? It sure feels ominous.

Yet each morning, in the warm sunlight, I can't help but be excited to be off on a new adventure!

There's so much to learn from the past! We build everything by hand. My skills and curiosity are valued.

I wonder if Poe has tried to call me yet. He said that he would call me after he got settled in at school exactly once a week. He couldn't be on the phone very often or everyone would think he was a baby.

Act like a nerd and you'll be treated like a nerd. Be aware of how others perceive you to control how you want them to react.

That's the advice he told me to live by when I enter High School.

Psch.

Like I want to be stuck in stupid classes all day! Like I want to be given wedgies and trapped in my locker? Like I want to be told sorry, we don't focus on hand done skills kid, but we'll teach you how to make computer programs.