Washington’s War

by Stacia Deutsch

  Zack was the first to taste it. “Ewww,” he said, spitting the firecake out in the snow.

  I was curious so I took a bite too. It tasted like burnt toast.

  Jacob and Bo weren’t as brave. They both thanked Mrs. Washington and put the firecake into their coat pockets, saying they weren’t hungry.

  “Four minutes,” Jacob reported.

  “Where is he?” Zack whined. “We can’t just stand around here. We’ll be late!” I simply rolled my eyes at him and smiled.

  Just then, George Washington came back out of the house. “Have the men unpack the wagons. We are staying at Valley Forge,” he told Mrs. Washington. “These children have shown me how important it is to carry on the fight for liberty.” He winked at me. “Yours was a very good joke, Abigail. I will be certain to share it with Martha this evening. She is not as serious as I am.”

  George Washington asked Bo, “You said we’d soon receive help and supplies. Do you know exactly when?”

  Bo continued to look down, shuffling his foot. “A few weeks,” Bo said softly. “Baron Von Steuben is coming from France to help train the men. He will be arriving February 23. The new quartermaster, a man named Nathanael Greene, will arrive on March 2.”

  GW nodded. “I look forward to their arrival.” He handed a piece of cloth paper to Bo. “I needed an extra minute to find the proper supplies. I had packed away my ink and quill. Luckily, I knew where to find replacements.”

  Bo held the paper for us all to see. It was the letter to Governor Clinton. George Washington had finished it and signed it. And it was ready to send.

  “You there,” George Washington called to a nearby soldier. “Post this letter for me.”

  After the soldier took the letter and walked away, George Washington said, “History is the way it should be. Thank you for showing me my role in the future of America.” He smiled broadly and shook our hands one at a time.

  Just as we were about to leave, the man we had seen talking with Babs Magee showed up. George Washington introduced us to his friend, Benedict Arnold.

  “I hear you are leaving Valley Forge,” Benedict Arnold told GW.

  I glanced around for Babs Magee. She had to be lurking around somewhere, watching, to make sure George Washington left. I was betting she was ready to move into the Pottses’ house the instant the wagon pulled away. Benedict Arnold took his time surveying the wagon. He rubbed one of the horses on its nose. “Have a safe trip home. You will be missed.” He didn’t sound very sincere.

  “Should we warn GW that his friend will become a traitor?” Zack whispered.

  “Nah.” Jacob held up the computer. “And forget about Babs Magee, too. As long as GW stays at Valley Forge, history is back on track. George Washington is way too stubborn to ever change his mind again.”

  “Benedict Arnold will get kicked out of the United States, anyway,” Bo put in. “After the war, he is forced to move to London. When he dies, he’s poor and lonely.”

  “I hope he takes Babs with him,” I said, knowing that she was probably waiting to hear from Benedict Arnold. And when she found out George Washington was staying, she’d be gone, off to convince the next person on Mr. C’s list to quit. Of course, we’d be right behind her!

  We said good-bye to George and Martha Washington and moved to a private place. Jacob pulled out the computer cartridge, and the green time-travel hole opened in the frosty ground.

  We were about to jump through time when voices called to us from the distance. I looked up. The three soldiers we’d seen earlier were headed our way.

  “We have returned!” the first man shouted. I was glad that they weren’t close enough to see the green hole. There were a lot of trees between us and them.

  “We have decided to continue to fight for America’s independence,” the second man cried out to us.

  “We hear George Washington is staying at Valley Forge!” There was excitement in the third man’s voice.

  We waved at them, happy to see that they weren’t deserting after all.

  “Our work here is done!” I said, a huge smile on my face. I was proud that American history was once more on track. We’d done it with six seconds to spare.

  The boys and I held hands, forming a small, tight circle.

  And happily, we jumped home.

  A Letter to Our Readers

  Dear Readers,

  Washington’s War is a mixture of fact and fiction.

  The fiction parts are the things that we made up, like four time-traveling kids. Jacob, Zack, Bo, and Abigail might remind you of kids you know, but they really exist only on the pages of our books.

  However, there are many true facts about George Washington in this book. During the Revolutionary War, George Washington really did march his troops through the bitter snow to spend the winter at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania.

  His soldiers didn’t have warm clothes to wear or enough food to eat. The soldiers would eat firecake, but that wasn’t enough to keep the men healthy. Many became sick. Others would run away. Female volunteers helped around camp as best they could, but George Washington worried that if the British attacked Valley Forge, they would lose the war.

  On February 16, 1788, George Washington sent a letter to his friend Governor George Clinton in New York. He complained about the terrible conditions at Valley Forge and asked his friend to send cows, for meat and milk. A short time later, the Continental Army sent help in the form of a new supply chief, called a quartermaster, and a man to help train troops, named Baron Von Steuben.

  A ragtag group of men went into Valley Forge. Six months later they were a fighting army, prepared to win the Revolutionary War and make America free.

  One last thing. While writing this book, we discovered a lot of funny jokes for Zack to tell. Here is one more:

  Why do pictures and statues of George Washington always show him standing?

  Because he would never lie.

  Have a Blast!

  Stacia and Rhody

  BLAST TO THE PAST in the next adventure:

  #8 Betsy Ross’s Star

  Something funky was going on. Sure, to anyone else sitting in our third-grade class, things seemed normal. But I could tell. They weren’t normal at all.

  Mr. C was sitting on the edge of his desk, like usual.

  His hair was messy. His suit a disaster. His bow tie sideways. All normal.

  He’d been five minutes late to class, just like he was every Monday.

  So what was the problem? It was the question he asked to start the period.

  It was more like a nonquestion. It was a statement, really. He said, “Share something you know about Elizabeth Claypoole.” At our blank stares, he cleared his throat and said, “You know her by the name Betsy Ross.”

  Most people wouldn’t think there is anything wrong with a teacher telling his class to share. But anyone who knows Mr. C and is really curious, like me, would be immediately suspicious. Mr. Caruthers always, and I mean always, starts class on Monday with a “what-if” question. Like, “What if Betsy Ross quit and never sewed the first American flag?”

  I love Mr. C’s “what-if” questions. His questions are the best part of social studies. Today Mr. C didn’t ask “what-if” anything. That’s how I knew something freaky was going on.

  I sit at a table with my three best friends, Jacob, Zack, and the new kid in school, Bo. Bo’s real name is Roberto, but no one ever calls him that.

  I leaned over toward Zack, who was sitting right next to me. “What’s wrong with Mr. C?” I asked, nodding my head slightly toward our teacher.

  “What are you talking about?” Zack whispered back. “What do you mean something’s wrong? What could be wrong? Are we in danger?”

  I slapped myself on the forehead. I should have known better. Zack is a worrywart. He gets stressed out about everything. “What’s the matter with Mr. C?” He was going on and on. “Is he sick? Hurt? Do you think I should get the principal?”

  Oh, man.

&
nbsp; The thing is, when Zack’s not worrying, he’s very funny. He tells jokes and acts silly. Even his clothes can make me laugh. Today he was wearing a T-shirt, inside out and backward, with a pair of jeans. I’m sure he got dressed in a hurry, and knowing Zack, he probably figured he’d simply pretend it was backward day instead of turning his shirt around.

  “Abigail,” Zack whispered back to me. His voice sounded shaky and nervous. “What makes you think Mr. C has a problem?”

  I decided not to stress him out further. “It’s just that . . .” I stalled. “Mr. C is so messy today.”

  Zack’s face relaxed and he grinned. “It’s Monday,” he reminded me. “Mr. C is always messy on Mondays because we have History Club after school.” Then Zack winked at me.

  “Oh, yeah,” I replied as if I was just remembering. “I almost forgot.”

  Of course, the truth was I could never forget it was Monday or that we have History Club on Mondays. Like I already told you, History Club is my favorite thing on earth. And even though I pretended not to remember, I knew exactly why Mr. C was five minutes late and messy today.

  I knew because of all the kids in our social studies class, Jacob, Bo, Zack, and I were specially chosen as Mr. C’s secret helpers.

  On Mondays, Mr. C makes the time-travel cartridge for our History Club adventure. He never gives himself enough time to make the cartridge and get to class on time, too. There is also a huge explosion that screws up Mr. C’s clothes and hair. It happens when he puts the lid on the cartridge. Even though we’ve asked, Mr. C won’t tell us why he doesn’t just make the cartridge on Sundays. He’d have plenty of time. And he’d definitely be neater.

  I turned to Bo. Certainly he’d know why Mr. C hadn’t asked us a “what-if” question. Bo knows everything about everything. He likes to read and remembers all the facts he’s ever read. Today Bo was wearing baggy pants and a T-shirt that said READING IS TO THE MIND WHAT EXERCISE IS TO THE BODY. Underneath it said that the quote was by some guy named Joseph Addison.

  Bo was sitting tall in his chair, listening to the other kids in class share what they knew about Betsy Ross.

  Matthew Abrams raised his hand and said he’d once read that George Washington came to Betsy Ross’s sewing shop in Philadelphia. Apparently George Washington hired her to make the flag for the new, independent American country.

  Matthew hadn’t even finished speaking when I swear I heard Bo mutter, “That’s just a myth. Historians don’t even know for sure if George Washington was in Philadelphia at the time.” He said that so quietly, I wondered if I might have misunderstood his mumbling.

  I took a long, careful look at Bo. He’s usually quiet and shy, but I’d never heard him mutter and mumble in class before.

  Cindy Cho stopped biting her nails long enough to say she knew that Betsy Ross had created the American flag’s stars and stripes design.

  Right after she said it, I definitely heard Bo mutter, “That’s not a fact. No one knows for sure if she designed it or not.”

  After each kid in class told Mr. C what they knew about Betsy Ross, Bo would mutter about how it “wasn’t a fact” or “wasn’t proven,” or “was just another myth.”

  It was the weirdest day in social studies ever.

  “Jacob,” I whispered across the table, “have Mr. C and Bo both lost it?”

  Jacob didn’t answer. He was doodling something on a piece of white paper. I looked down. It was a picture of our time-travel computer. Jacob loves computers. He’s president of the school computer club. When we go on adventures, he is always in charge of using the computer to send us back in time and to bring us home again.

  I considered kicking him in the leg to get his attention, but Jacob was wearing new-looking blue pants and clean white tennies. I was wearing shorts with these awesome cowboy boots that used to belong to my teenage sister, CeCe. I decided not to dirty his clothes or shoes by kicking him with CeCe’s old boots.

  I was going to have to ask Mr. C what was going on. I raised my hand, but Mr. C had already moved on. Oddly, though, Bo hadn’t stopped muttering “myth, myth, myth” under his breath.

  I put one hand over my right ear to block out Bo’s grumbling and kept my left hand raised high in the air. After a while my hand got tired. Unless Mr. C grew eyes on the back of his head, he wouldn’t call on me. He was busy writing out a time line on the blackboard.

  The time line said “Philadelphia” across the top, but didn’t list any actual events. It looked like this:

  June 1776 May 1777 May 25, 1780

  March 1870 Month unknown, 1925

  Figuring I’d ask about the “what-if” question later, I lowered my hand and studied the blackboard instead.

  When he was finished writing, Mr. C turned around to face our class. “Who can tell me the main reason Betsy Ross is so famous?”

  He called on Shanika Washington. She said, “Betsy Ross is famous because she sewed the first American flag.” Just as Shanika finished saying the g in “flag,” Bo’s head exploded. No, not literally, but close.

  “NOOOOO!” he cried out. In all the time I’ve known him, I’ve never heard Bo speak that loudly before. “IT’S A MYTH!” Bo roared. “There is NO proof that Betsy Ross ever sewed the first flag!”

  STACIA DEUTSCH is the author of more than fifty children’s books. She loves to write adventure, mystery, and movie novels, but time-travel stories are her favorite. Just in case she gets the chance to time travel, Stacia keeps a long list of the people she would like to visit. For now she lives in California with her three children.

  RHODY COHON wishes she could time travel too! Until her machine is in working order, she’ll travel through her imagination to wild and woolly places from her prickly home in Tucson, Arizona.

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  Simon & Schuster, New York

  Read all the books in the Blast to the Past® series!

  #1 Lincoln’s Legacy

  #2 Disney’s Dream

  #3 Bell’s Breakthrough

  #4 King’s Courage

  #5 Sacagawea’s Strength

  #6 Ben Franklin’s Fame

  #7 Washington’s War

  Coming soon:

  #8 Betsy Ross’s Star

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  This Aladdin paperback edition January 2015

  Text copyright © 2007 by Stacia Deutsch and Rhody Cohon

  Interior illustrations copyright © 2007 by Guy Francis

  Cover illustration copyright © 2015 by Fernando Juarez

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  ALADDIN is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and related logo is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  BLAST TO THE PAST is a registered trademark of Stacia Deutsch and Rhody Cohon.

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  Series design by Jeanine Henderson

  The text of this book was set in Minion Pro.

  Library of Congress Control Number 2006927768

  ISBN 978-1-4424-9540-1 (pbk)

  ISBN 978-1-4424-9348-3 (eBook)

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