Caroline's Blog Post

Thomas’ arms shook as the mass of the crate threatened to send him sprawling

. 

“I told you not to lift it without me!” Paul’s voice rang like a bell in Thomas’ skull. 

Annoyance and exasperation coated his voice, while a red hue painted his face. Thomas scoffed and summoned the little strength his arms held to send the crate sliding toward the front of the wagon. A sense of satisfaction washed over him knowing that Paul had been proven wrong. That was all erased in the next moment when a glass shattering cry pierced his ears, followed by a shout of disgust. The alleyway remained silent for another beat. 

“Thomas!” He turned around to find Sophie’s auburn head rising slowly up. Her face reddened as she opened her mouth to let another scream out. The only thing her voice met was cobblestone and dust.

The moment Thomas stepped into the shop a shoe flew passed him. He immediately felt his back soaked in yesterday’s rainwater. Before he could take another step, a hat flew in, hitting him squarely in the face. When it fell from his face he was met with a trio of angry faces. 

Paul sat on the clawed wooden chair, cradling his hand. Above him, Sophie crossed her arms and looked stiffly at him. Lastly, Mr. Bell stood at the stove. When Thomas met his eyes the only feeling he saw was disappointment. Thomas knew what the people of the street would say. He knew how badly it reflected on Mr. Bell and his shop.

“I told him he needed help lifting the crate.” Paul fumed. 

“I know, Paul” Mr. Bell soothed. “Thomas will do all the cleaning and chores for the next month.” 

“What about the delivery?” Sophie questioned. 

“All of you will go. You and Thomas will move the crates inside. Paul can watch the wagon.” The scowl on Paul’s face was unmistakable.

By the time the wagon was loaded, clouds had descended upon the city. The sticky air clung to Thomas’ face and coated it. Every few moments, Paul groaned and let a quiet curse slip out. Sophie kicked him on her way up, making sure she yanked the reins away from him. 

Thomas watched the streets as they flooded with people. Children chased one another around women cradling newborns and baskets. Workmen flipped coins over barrels. Girls traded flowers under the sun, giggling at boys who took shy glances at them.

As they wove their way through the tight city, Thomas felt a bubble of anticipation build. Anyone with a brain knew what had been occurring every day for a month. The doors to the Pennsylvania State House would close and seal inside the men that would decide the fate of the thirteen colonies. At noon, when the sun climbed into the deep sea sky, reporters flocked to the yard, pounding the cobblestone. They reclined against trees as they scrambled to yank out their quills. Thomas had seen it once when a delivery had run late. Sophie had scowled and refused to walk through them, muttering something about a distaste for the press. Paul eyed the reporters and congressmen with suspicion. Thomas, of course, out-elbowed the reporters in an attempt to glance into the main chamber. He had quickly been caught and tossed out by the scruff of his stained collar, but he had tried nonetheless.

When the wagon reached the final street Thomas nearly fell out. There wasn’t a foot of cobblestone to be seen anywhere. Only the shoes and stockings of men, women, and children were visible.

“We’re finished.” Paul slumped down in his seat.

“We’ll go another route.” Sophie quickly amended.

“That’ll take too long.” Thomas pointed out.

“We can carry them by foot.” 

“You two aren’t fast enough.” Paul sang, this time pressing himself down against the scratched wood of the wagon.

“Let’s ram them!” Thomas lept forward. “Out of the way! We have-” Thomas’ head connected with the corner of a crate as Sophie shoved him back.

“We’re carrying them. End of story.” 

Twenty minutes later Thomas slumped down against the wall, defeated. He and Sophie had hauled only six crates between the wagon and the State House. Paul, meanwhile, was attempting to gradually push his way through the crowd, but proved he was ineffective with one good hand and a voice that nobody found threatening.

Sophie yanked him up and the pair went sprinting toward the wagon again. They unloaded another crate and started on their trek. Sophie’s voice was sharp and few had it in them to oppose her. Thomas felt a burst of adrenaline rush through him. In his rush, the crate collided with a tree, sending the ink and quills sprawling.

“Thomas!” Sophie screeched. He turned to see that the black ink had soaked her dress. 

“I’m sorry! I was in a hurry!”

“Just because you’re rushing doesn’t grant you the right to be clumsy!” she snapped. Thomas sighed and started to pick up the shards of glass. 

“Young man...young man!” Thomas shot up. An old gray-haired man called his name. He was nearly hanging out the window of the State House. 

“Uh sir?”

“Pass me that ink, will you son.” He croaked, reaching out. 

“Um…” He hesitated. The man seemed sincere enough, but Sophie was already a second away from throwing him into the river. 

“Please son. This is important.” Thomas peered down at the ink well in his grasp. What harm could giving it to him do? Before he could make it to the window, a stick sent him flying. He cradled the inkwell to his chest as he handed off to the old man, who had just finished chuckling at him. 

“I don’t think you understand how important what you just did is. Thank you.” Thomas felt something wash over him.. Praise was heaped onto Paul and Sophie, but never to him. It was a nice, warm feeling, like the one he got after eating a good pie or beating Paul in a footrace. 

Thomas turned around to find Paul flat against the ground, ink splattered against his clothes. Sophie stared at him with an open mouth.

“What?” He questioned. 

“Thomas...you realize who that was, right?” Paul asked as he hauled himself up. 

“What’s there to know?” Paul scoffed and Sophie sighed.

“Thomas. That was Benjamin Franklin.” A horrified expression crossed his face.

“I just tripped in front of Benjamin Franklin.” With no grace whatsoever, Thomas flopped to the ground. The only thing he heard was Paul and Sophie’s laughs as he stared into the sky, wondering how on Earth he had gotten here.