Chapter 7

I wondered how Jefferson’s family would survive with him gone off to war. Farming—life in general—must have been really tough back then. I wondered if there had been any siblings left behind to help, or if Jefferson might have had some brothers who would have also been called into battle.

There was only one way to find out. I was going to have to keep reading.

“Did you get old Thomas to bend you over and let you shove your nineteenth century cock up his—”

“What are you doing in here?”

I shot up off the couch and stood at attention, as if the pharmacist who was leading our reenactment was an actual general.

“Just looking around,” I said.

“It’s a fascinating place. I’ve been here dozens of times and never tire of it. Anyway, I wanted to let you know, I’ve made up the roster, random draw, and you’ll be fighting on the front lines.”

“Ah. Good to know. No starving to death, I might just take a bullet.”

“It’s a roll of the dice.”

“Isn’t that true of life in general?”