#university of new haven

[mikeorazzi]

Northeast 10 Track & Field Championship SCSU New Haven Connecticut #spor...

[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Thursday:

"Responsible Adults", the sequel: Jak tries to do a regular Jak Stunt and is shocked that it doesn't go over well

(Roughly a week after this one ends. Long post warning, as most of these are lol)

Night terrors were not an uncommon experience for Jak. They may not have been his nightly companions anymore, but when he did have them, they were intense. He woke up in a corner of his room, wedged beneath the sink. There was a vague sense that he was taking cover from something, or someone.

Blessedly, he remembered no details of the nightmare. But the terror still sent his guts quivering the way they had in the prison. Huddled under the cot both for warmth and silently praying the boots wouldn't stop at his door. That he wouldn't end up Tyber's new punching bag when he got bored of the old man in the cell above Jak's.

Tyber is dead. Errol is dead. Praxis is dead. I watched them die.

Jak repeated the words like a mantra until he could move his limbs again. He crawled out from beneath the sink, but the lingering fear made his room feel claustrophobic. Smaller than it really was.

At least he hadn't woken Daxter this time.

Jak put on his boots, but didn't bother getting fully dressed. He didn't even know what time it was. Why bother if the doctor and the king guy were just going to nag him about being sleep-deprived anyway?

It must have been early morning, before dawn; the moon had vanished and people were outside doing repair work on houses and fog-catchers.

Early morning was the best time to get any outdoor work done in Spargus. A small girl led a flock of caprids out of the stables and towards one of the other districts to graze on the cactus there, and a gang of trainees only a little older than Jak were taking advantage of the temperature to do an endurance run around the city.

Personally, Jak didn't see the good of such things. You learned to be fast enough or smart enough to escape your enemies, or you didn't. He'd learned through life and death experience, not a footrace with no winners.

"Easy with the straps there!" A stocky man backed into Jak, calling up to a team of three people.

"Ope-! Scuse me there, pipsqueak." The Wastelander stepped to the side as if Jak was barely worth noticing.

"Howland, that thing ain't cinched tight enough!"

They seemed to be trying to remove a corroded beam from the supports of one of the multi dwelling houses. It was already leaning at a precarious angle, as big around as a grown man. If that beam came down the wrong way, it would take a lot of the adobe structure -- and probably a lot of people -- with it.

"It's fine, Daru!" Howland complained, "I just cinched it!"

"Well cinch it again! That sucker’s leanin'!"

Jak frowned, but let his curiosity wash away the dregs of the night terrors.

"What's wrong with it?"

The unofficial foreman tugged at a bushy red mustache and shook his head. "Don't rightly know yet. Could just be age. Sand storms and salt air will do a number on this kind of metal after a while."

Jak wondered if that had anything to do with Sandover using wood and stone almost exclusively. He was about to ask why it had been anchored to a mud wall when there was a loud metallic clang. The last bracket holding the beam snapped under the weight, and the straps weren't enough to hold it.

Jak didn't remember moving. But then he was there, with the beam on his shoulders and the foreman on the ground, having narrowly avoided being crushed to death. Cold metal dug into his hands, pressed down against his head, and Jak knew that by rights he should've been dead.

There was a thrill of revulsion in his chest when he reluctantly acknowledged that the only reason he was standing right now was that the dark eco experiments had lengthened his muscle strands to twice the size of a normal hu'men's. It wasn't just in his dark form. That element of...unnatural...was just with him. Every moment.

"Frith! Oh my- HOWLAND! GET DOWN HERE!" Daru roared, "YOU COULDA KILLED SOMEBODY!"

"I got it," Jak said through gritted teeth. "Is there a place to put this thing down?"

"Not yet," Howland admitted as he shimmied down a ladder.

"We were going to cut it into pieces once it was secure, transport it that way to be recycled."

Jak craned his neck, but the motion jarred the beam. Hastily, he adjusted his grip.

"What's- What's around me?"

"Too much," said Daru grimly. "Just- Hold on, kid."

He winced at the boy's flat stare.

"Er...no pun intended. We're gonna, gonna get you out from under there, I promise!"

"Get it cut up first," Jak grunted, "And you won't have to worry about getting me out."

"And what if your hands get sweaty, huh?" Daru demanded, "Fat chance, little man! We're going to find something to hold this up!"

The other two men hurried down from the roof with saws in hand.

Oh gods. Handsaws. This was going to take a while.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Honestly, Damas should have been expecting trouble when he didn't start his day with a free heart attack after seeing eyeshine in the kitchen. The kid was diametrically opposed to the concept of sleep, so he wouldn't have been in bed. If he was off his routine -- and by now Damas had learned to dread something interrupting the kid's self-imposed routine -- then there was probably going to be trouble later.

When he refilled the fuel in the Beacon, fed the birds, and actually had a cup of coffee uninterrupted, he was suspicious.

When the sun rose and there were no echoes of truncated curses in the halls from guards running into Jak, he started to wonder if the kid had decided to work outside. Unusual, but as long as he didn't do anything that would make Dr. Petros yell at them both, more power to him.

But when the talking ottsel showed up in the throne room about an hour after dawn, frantically demanding to know where Jak was, Damas was concerned.

Those two were attached at the hip! Jak wouldn't have gone to look for work without Daxter.

There was a small crowd forming by the time Damas stepped outside. People were shouting encouragements, or conflicting advice about pulleys and snatchblocks. Had something fallen? Damas hadn't heard any impacts. As he began to pick his way through the crowd, the shouts took on new meaning.

"He's slipping! Somebody get under there!"

"How many more hands do you want? There's ten people holding the beam up!"

"Why won't he just let go?!"

"Standing this long, maybe his arms locked up-?"

A beam? People holding a beam-?

An accident. There'd been an accident and night watch hadn't caught it.

Thoughts of crushed citizens and mangled houses circled Damas’s imagination as he pushed through the rest of the crowd, close enough to hear the rasp of handsaws and the buzz of a lone angle grinder.

"Get the cart back in!" Someone yelled, "Next piece is almost off!"

From the looks of things, a crew of four had reduced a two-story high support beam by a third.

Ten Wastelanders were beneath the colossal pole, hands and shoulders braced against the metal as it shrieked and groaned. If even one of them slipped-!

Damas threw down his staff without thinking to join them, racing to catch the end beginning to slide.

"What happened?" he demanded, straining with the others to keep it from crushing the houses and themselves.

"Tie straps broke!" a man three people down called back, "If it weren't for the kid, it woulda come down right through the roofs of a couple houses!"

Kid?

Oh gods don't tell me...

Jak was standing in the very center of the line. His arms trembled, and sweat poured down his face. He didn't seem to hear anything happening around him, too focused on keeping his grip. He was beginning to pale.

"What's he doing here?!"

"Dunno!" A woman to the left answered. "He was already there when me and the girls showed up, but that was two hours ago."

"Hours?!"

Jak had been out here for hours, trapped, and Damas had been none the wiser?

"Why hasn't anyone gotten him out yet?!"

"We tried! The poor kid froze up!"

Damas gritted his teeth and pushed away images of the kid standing alone under that crushing weight for hours until help had woken up.

"Get a truck and winch out of the pit!" He ordered, "Forget damage to the streets, we'll fix it later! I want this thing taken care of now."

It took a full twenty minutes to get the Dozer through the narrow streets of the tower district. By that time, those who had been holding the beam first had cycled out for fresh arms to allow for water and eco. All except Jak. He'd accepted some water that someone poured into his mouth earlier, but still seemed to be unable to let go. He was at the fulcrum point, he insisted, and he wasn't going to let it tip. (Not that he thought he'd actually be able to move at this point.)

Fifteen people attached pulleys and cables to the beam from above, careful not to dislodge the hands of those below. When the cables had all been hooked to the Dozer's winch, the weight began, at last, to lessen.

There was a ragged cheer from the assembled Wastelanders as the end of the beam tipped up and the rescuers eased the other end to the ground. There would be extensive damage to infrastructure to deal with. But nobody had died, and there were no major injuries, and Damas would count that as a victory. Shaking out aching arms, he hurried to the center of the line, where someone was physically holding Jak upright. Damas took hold of the boy's stiff arms carefully.

"It's gone," he said, easing the limbs down, "It's gone, let go, Jak. Come on, you're done."

The kid made a sound, a soft rasping whine that might’ve been words. Then he collapsed.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

When the world drifted back into focus, Jak didn't know where he was. The smell of eco lingered around him, confusing the other scents that could have identified his location. He couldn't move his arms. Why couldn't he move his arms?!

It took a massive effort just to pry his eyelids up. Jak’s breath caught harshly between his teeth as he forced himself onto his side.

Well, that explained the lack of mobility in his arms. He ached like he'd been fighting beyond his limits again. The injection sites would be agitated again, he knew without looking. The pain radiated from his shoulders to his fingertips, skin, muscle, and bone.

The room was a blur. Brown and yellow slowly settled into more colors, ending in something either white or pale blue in front of his nose. The longer he stared at it, the more detail he could see. Pills of thread, clinging to loosely woven fabric. The texture and shape of the warp and weft shifted as he tried to move his hand.

He hissed in pain.

"Well that's what happens when you try to make a career as a load-bearing wall."

Jak tensed. Not alone. Not with Daxter.

Biting down on the pain, he dug his fingers into the pallet beneath him and forced himself upright.

This wasn't the hospital -- small blessings -- but it wasn't his room either. There was a low wooden bedframe on a wall a few feet away, on the other side of some kind of half partition full of plants.

"Where...?"

"Well you're about to think of it as prison," Damas answered from the opposite direction.

He was sitting at a table, hunched over a cup of coffee. The empty pot beside him was a story of its own.

"By the way, you're grounded."

"What?!" Jak sputtered. He started to get up, but fell back onto the pallet with a grunt of pain.

"Like rot!"

Damas glanced back over his shoulder. "Take it up with the doctor. He put you on bedrest, not me. Better yet, blame your own self! You could've let go at any time once the rest of the district turned up to help!"

"The whole...district?"

Jak blinked.

"I don't...remember that..."

Damas sighed and peered into into his mug.

"You've been sleeping most of the day, I'm not surprised. Even with the eco you'll probably be sore for a while."

"How -- ow! -- long was I out there?"

Jak cringed at the look in Damas’s eyes when the man turned around fully.

"Four. Hours. Four hours! Why didn't you let go when others arrived?!"

Was this a trick question? It had to be a trick question.

"Be...cause...I'm not supposed to let other people get hurt?" Jak answered with slow confusion.

Damas stared in complete silence for several seconds. Then,

"You're insane. My foster-son is insane. That's insane! In what world is "throw the youngest under the pillar" a rational solution?!"

"Uh. Haven?" Jak muttered peevishly. He tried to sit up again. "Look, just. Tell me which way my room is and I'll get out of your hair."

Damas pushed his chair back with a scraping sound.

"Mn. No. What part of "bed rest" didn't you hear?"

In brusque motions, he knelt and pulled the blanket back over Jak.

"You are not to do anything even mildly strenuous, or Petros will strangle me. And since I apparently can't trust you not to willingly walk into harm's way unsupervised, you get to camp out in here, and I get to work from home for the next few days to make sure you don't go try to lift a car or something!"

Jak was appalled. "You can't do that!"

Dry as dust, Damas retorted, "First of all, I'm king. Secondly, I'm your legal guardian. Yes I can."

Jak groaned in frustration.

"Where's Daxter?"

"Not grounded."

"Oh come on!"

[moss-777]

Undine Rising from the Waters, Chauncy Ives, marble on a rouge pedestal, 1884

[martyharrison]

Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut

[moodboardmix]

Beinecke Rare Book Library at Yale University,

New Haven, Connecticut, United States,

Gordon Bunshaft, 1963,

Photo: Pete J. Sieger

[vicsep7250]

Wait hol' up. Before I do a deep dive back into RWBY, I gotta know.

Is the fucking DC spinoff canon to the main show???

[elektroskopik]

Headline title: "Doxxing truck arrives at Yale"

I'm sorry, but what the fuck.

On Thursday, Nov. 16, a “doxxing truck” with a three-sided digital billboard made its way to Yale’s campus, displaying the photos and names of Yale students under a banner reading “Yale’s Leading Antisemites.” The truck appeared on campus as early as 11:55 a.m. outside Atticus Bookstore Cafe on Chapel Street and was last seen around 3:50 p.m. on Broadway.

The truck, which is sponsored by the conservative group Accuracy in Media, is a part of the group’s “Campus Accountability Campaign.” At least six students’ names and faces were displayed on the billboards in an effort to dox — a public shaming tactic by which an unauthorized individual spreads someone else’s personal information.

The appearance of the doxxing truck comes amid increasing student safety concerns and social tensions at college campuses across the country due to the Israel-Hamas war.

“I am a Navajo and Jewish woman who is committed to liberation for all people, including my own communities,” a graduate student who appeared on the truck wrote to the News, on the condition of anonymity due to personal safety concerns. “I am proud to be Jewish, just as I am proud to be Navajo. It is deeply unsettling and violent that Jewish students are being doxxed and called antisemitic.”

[...]

[cameoutstruggling93]

Maybe it's the East Coast in the music or the endless road from the past 🎶

[convexedconvrt]

Edvard Munch Self Portrait (Selvportrett), c. 1895

Lithographic crayon, tusche, and scraper, inscribed

Although Munch was just thirty-one years old when he created this self-portrait, he represented himself as a spectral figure, with bones at the bottom of the picture serving as a memento mori, or reminder of death. They are balanced by the artist's name and the date at the top of the image; together these details turn it into a kind of tombstone, or sepulchral tablet. Munch later stated, 'Sickness, insanity, and death were the dark angels standing guard at my cradle and they have followed me throughout my life.' The darkness of the background allows the bones to appear to be those of the subject's arm, leaning on the picture's frame. The severed, floating head was a familiar motif in art around the turn of the twentieth century, signifying a split between the physical and spiritual worlds. x

[nataliesewell]

aadilah al shahid & liefred antiqua.

i made a map of your stars, then i had a revelation you’re as beautiful as endless, you’re the universe i’m helpless in an astronomer at my best when i throw away the measurements

[gonnaacetheib]

Lewis Walpole Library, Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut

[roadtripnewengland]

A Day in New Haven Connecticut https://bit.ly/3OFwCyR

[martyharrison]

Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut

[my-lonelystar]

[amberlynnmurdock]

New Love, New Haven

CHAPTER SEVEN: The Ordinary Houses a Red Coat 

Pairing: Ben Tallmadge x Original Female Character 

Summary: As red coats trickle in, new problems arise.

A/N: I'm sorry for the delay! I am trying to not let more than a week and a half go by without updating. I actually meant to update this weekend but forgot it was Easter! Happy Easter! And if you don't celebrate, happy Ramadan, Passover,... happy happy!! Hope you all had a lovely weekend. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Archive of Our Own Link 

November 1772

The end of October also brought on plenty of beginnings, too. The beginning of November—the beginning of autumn: the leaves on the trees were fully changed in color: red, yellow, orange, and brown leaves covered the cobblestone of downtown New Haven, and people hustled a bit more getting to and fro their destinations. It was colder now, that’s for sure. People began to bring out their wool coats and hats. The days got darker faster—and Sadie was really beginning to fall for Ben.

Of course, if she wasn’t already smitten with him, he had to go and do everything perfectly right for Sadie: throwing rocks up at her window late at night, sneaking outside when Sadie took out the rubbish at the tavern and kissing her before going back inside, and the secret notes didn’t stop. She was getting more and more of Ben’s notes from class, and learning a lot.

Of course, her notes from Nathan didn’t stop either, and out of respect for her brother, she asked Ben to give her notes on the topics that Nathan didn’t cover. And Ben delivered. His notes were very detailed and tedious. Besides Sadie being absolutely taken by Ben, she had to admit the way he wrote, you would think he was a professor himself. She wondered if Ben would ever become one—he’d lectured to her when he could and Sadie was always captivated by the way he spoke. It made her fall for him even more, how knowledgeable he was. She loved to learn from him. And she specifically loved that he gave her a chance to explore her own perspectives on ideas whether it be about philosophy or an interpretation of a poem.

And besides the school notes, and the private lessons—she truly felt safe in his presence. She longed to be in it again the moment she had to sneak back home. He was like her escape from the world: when it was just Ben and Sadie, it was just the two of them.

Sadie thought of all of this as she wiped and polished plates, staring absentmindedly at the floor of the tavern, smiling to herself.

“Sadie!” Richard’s voice shook Sadie out of her trance. “Are you almost done with those plates?”

“Yes, Pa,” Sadie quickly finished wiping the last plate and placed it on top of the stack before her. She lifted them from the bottom and put them around the bar, in front of the glasses.

“We’ve got some…visitors…coming in tonight, y’know,” Richard muttered under his breath, placing his hands on the bar top.

Ah…yes, Sadie thought. That was another thing that was beginning to happen in New Haven. The red leaves on the trees weren’t the only red things that suddenly appeared quietly. It was the small trickle of British soldiers—redcoats—that came to town, and everyone suddenly stood up a bit straighter and felt the sweat form on their foreheads. There was no particular reason as to why they were here—passing through from Boston, on their way to Philadelphia. Their presence didn’t bother Sadie, as long as they didn't infringe on her everyday life. But she knew her father was feeling a certain way about the whole thing. He’s never made her double-polish plates and glasses before.

“The soldiers, you mean,” Sadie said casually. She wasn’t going to let them make her feel a certain way. Mostly, because one of them had to be calm. And it clearly wasn’t her father.

“Yes, the soldiers,” Richard repeated. “Oh, Sadie, could you please also make sure the chairs are all aligned—“

“Pa, they are not going to notice if a chair is slightly off-center,” Sadie argued with a sigh.

“Please do it,” Richard pleaded, turning around to go into the basement for ale.

Sadie huffed and turned on her heel, reluctantly pushing and moving chairs around. This is so silly. And very unnecessary.

Their presence wasn’t overwhelming. And so far, none of the other businesses had any trouble with the soldiers that did come in. But it weighed heavy on her mind that like the weather, things could change quickly.

☆☆☆☆

Ben walked thoughtfully on the grounds of Yale, notebook in one hand, the other clutching the strap of his bag. He loved the fall. He loved the way the grass smelt after a fresh rain, and the cold dampness of the air as he walked. Summers were brutal—it was nice to have cool air again. The new year was just around the corner. Ben knew it would come fast.

He wondered what the coming weeks would bring for him and Sadie. Perhaps, she would want to tell Nathan about what they were doing, or perhaps not. Despite Ben being uncomfortable with lying to his best friend, he agreed to let her make that decision.

“Benny!” Nathan’s loud voice came from a few feet behind Ben. Ben stopped in his tracks and turned to greet his friend.

“If it isn’t Mr. Hale,” Ben greeted with a smile. “Was wonderin’ if you’d make it to class at all.”

“Ha,” Nathan scoffed, “I just wanted to walk with you and—talk to you about something,” Nathan caught his breath.

Ben paused a moment—could it be Sadie? No, he pushed the thought away.

"What is it?” Ben asked as they began to walk together.

“Not here,” Nathan hushed. “Come with me.” Nathan nodded his head to the left. Ben followed him down a narrow path of the yard that lead them to an abandoned part of the building Ben hadn’t seen before.

Nathan’s blonde hair was so bright, even on a gloomy day like today. The top of his head stood out like a gold coin on gray gravel. They entered a dusty, half-finished room. Ben looked at his friend confused as Nathan looked outside the door of the room and shut it.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed the sea of red that’s come to town, aye?” Nathan inquired in a low voice. Ben tensed a bit—he had noticed, of course. It was hard to not notice it.

“Yes,” Ben answered and nodded his head. “Why?”

And this was where Nathan didn’t know where to start. He ran a hand through his golden locks and laughed nervously.

“Well,” Nathan clapped his hands together, “tell me how you feel about it.”

Ben straightened his shoulders uncomfortably, “how do you mean, how I feel about it?”

“C’mon, Tallmadge,” Nathan tittered.

Ben looked over Nathan’s shoulder at the window of the door, as if to make sure no one was there. He shifted uncomfortably and looked at his friend again with hard eyes.

“I’m not too keen on it, to be quite honest,” Ben simply stated under his breath. Nathan’s eyes lit up when Ben spoke.

“Ah-ha!” Nathan exclaimed, “I knew you were my best friend for a reason!”

Ben laughed. He was starting to catch onto what Nathan meant by all this.  

“Well, how do you feel about it?” Ben asked in return, lightly hitting Nathan’s right shoulder.

“It’s bloody annoying,” Nathan replied, “you know what happened in June, right?” Nathan asked in a low voice.

June…Ben racked his thoughts and suddenly a bell rang in his head—the Gaspee, of course, Ben had heard of it. A British customs schooner was attacked and burned by colonists once it set sail. The Sons of Liberty had been behind the attack and bravely showed their faces. The British wanted more control over the trade in Rhode Island. More so, rage ensued when the men were taken over to England to face trial.

“The Gaspee, Sons of Liberty? Of course,” Ben replied.

Nathan snapped, “yes.”

“It was remarkable,” Ben said honestly, “and terrible when they were taken from their homes.”

“Don’t you see what’s happening, Tallmadge?” Nathan asked.

Ben was quiet. He did see it.

“It’s only a matter of time before something happens here in New Haven,” Nathan stated.

Ben nodded in agreement. “You’re right.”

“I don’t know…now they are all here, at least some of them, and for how long? What is their agenda for this?”

Ben shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t like it—that’s for sure.”

Nathan clapped his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I wanted to make sure that I and you were on the same page. That’s all.”

Ben couldn’t help but laugh, realizing his friend had dramatically pulled him into this room to make sure they agreed on current affairs.

“Now can we get to class?”

☆☆☆☆

It was busy for a Thursday night and Sadie felt like she was running all across the tavern pouring ale for guests and bringing food out for them as well. The soldiers hadn’t even arrived yet; it was the normal tavern guests that were taking up space. The tavern guests didn’t seem concerned about who would soon be joining them, unlike Richard, who brought out another barrel of ale.

“Father, this is entirely too much! We can’t use up all of our stock before the weekend,” Sadie exclaimed, trying to move the barrel back to the basement door. She understood her father’s worries, but this was ridiculous.

“It’s just a precautionary measure, Sadie. Help me move it behind the bar,” Richard demanded. Sadie exasperated, huffed out a breath and helped her father move the barrel behind the bar.

When she turned the corner of the bar to grab the pitchers of ale, the door of the tavern opened and a shockingly cold breeze entered the warm tavern. What was once a loud and rambunctious atmosphere was now silent as six British soldiers walked slowly inside. Sadie immediately loosed her grip on the pitchers and brought her hands in front of her, straightening her back.

Although there were more guests in here than the soldiers that walked in, the soldiers seemed to be twice everyone’s size, making it seem like giants had just walked in. All of them were clad in red, black, and gold—it was hard to ignore the large muskets and swords at either of their sides. Sadie gulped as she looked at the weapons—she’d never seen them in person. She was entranced by the sight of them, knowing what they were capable of doing.

At the forefront of the group was a tall, slender man, with mousy brown curls. He had a narrow nose and red lips—he looked very fair and quite handsome, but there was still something unnerving about his presence.

As if forgetting their manners, everyone in the tavern, including Sadie, bowed to them.

“We heard this tavern serves the best ale in town,” the man with mousy brown hair spoke. He spoke very concisely, pronouncing every syllable in his words. “Whom is the owner?”

“That would be me,” Richard, suddenly losing all of his nerves, spoke confidently from behind the counter.

“Do come over here, sir,” the man replied. Richard walked to the British officer and everyone watched, their eyes following Richard’s movements.

“Major William Howe, at your service,” Major Howe announced, taking off his hat. Sadie was surprised at the Major’s gesture; she’s heard before that some British soldiers were cruel to colonists. “And what might be your name?”

“Richard Hale,” Richard stated.

“Well, Mr. Hale, my men and I are terribly parched and could use a few pints of your ale,” Major Howe said, gesturing to the men behind him.

Richard nodded and looked at the men behind Major Howe. Most of them, if not all, didn’t look over the age of twenty. Richard nodded his head.

“Very well. Sadie,” Richard called Sadie’s name. Sadie jumped at his voice and nodded immediately. Major Howe’s expression softened when he saw her.

“And whom is this lovely lady? The bar maiden?” Major Howe asked, giving a soft smile to Sadie. Sadie smiled nervously in return and walked over to greet him.

“This is my daughter, Sadie Hale,” Richard introduced. Sadie curtsied and smiled at the Major and soldiers.

“It’s a pleasure to have you all here at the Ordinary,” Sadie stated.

Major Howe took Sadie’s hand and pressed a kiss on her knuckles.

“Quite the name—it’s anything but ordinary,” Major Howe chuckled.

Well, it was certainly a relief to Sadie that Major Howe wasn’t as scary as she’d heard other British officers were. After the introductions, some of the bar guests moved tables so the Major and his comrades could sit in the center of the tavern. Conversations resumed and normalcy filled the air again.

Major Howe and his team were passing through New Haven and were to stay for a week or so. His other officers were elsewhere in town, finding their lodgings and visiting other taverns. Major Howe was actually quite nice and charming. She felt more relaxed in their presence—what was she so afraid of?

Oh, Sadie thought. The muskets and swords. She purposefully hovered around them whenever she brought more ale over to their table. Although they weren’t being used, it was still an unsettling sight.

☆☆☆☆

When the last guests left, Sadie took a deep breath. The night had finally caught up to her and she was exhausted. But still, Major Howe and his men lingered a bit, even though the tavern did technically close about half an hour ago. It finally seemed like they were about to leave.

“Oh, Mr. Hale,” Major Howe called for Richard who walked around the bar to meet the Major. Sadie began to take their plates away as Major Howe continued to speak.

“I meant to ask earlier, but Ensign John Alby is the only one left of us who has yet to find boarding in town. Do you happen to have a spare room for Ensign Alby to sleep in?” The way the Major asked the question made it seem like he already knew the answer. Of course, a colonist couldn’t say no to lodging a British soldier—it was necessary. There was no choice involved.

Sadie nearly dropped the plate she was holding on the table. Quickly composing herself, she took the plates away and set them down behind the bar, pretending to wash them there.

“Yes, we do,” Richard replied, to Sadie’s dismay, although Sadie knew there was only one outcome of this situation. Sadie glanced at the table, wondering which of them was Ensign Alby. She hoped he wasn’t one of the older soldiers she saw.

“Brilliant!” Major Howe exclaimed with a snap, anticipating that answer. “Ensign Alby will bring his luggage from the carriage outside. Sadie, darling, you will prepare his quarters, right?” Sadie was caught off guard, and nodded her head in response, forcing a smile at the Major.

“Of course. As soon as we all turn in for the night, I will surely prepare his quarters,” Sadie replied in a more shaky voice than she wanted.

“Oh, there’s no need to wait, why not get started on it immediately?” Major Howe asked.

“I’ll get on it now, then,” Sadie replied, noticing the lack of interjection by her father, who was glaring at Sadie. “Which one of your men is Ensign Alby?”

“I,” a young man to Sadie’s left raised his hand. The man had chocolate brown hair and eyes—Sadie was relieved to see it wasn’t any of the slightly older men. At least this one looked closer to her age. He smiled at her and Sadie returned it.

“I’ll get started on your quarters right away, sir.”

☆☆☆☆

Sadie made sure the bed in the spare room upstairs was clean and made for Ensign Alby. She tried to push her thoughts of the worst away as much as she could, but the thought of housing a British soldier loomed over her like a heavy rain cloud. At least, they were only passing through to get to Philadelphia, but it would be the longest week and a half of her life, Sadie thought.

And there was the question of Ben—when would she have a lone moment with him? How would she tell him this?

Begrudgingly, Sadie moved her own desk into his spare room. Before she had gone up, Ensign Alby requested one and said he enjoyed reading in his spare time. Sadie had to restrain from rolling her eyes—she enjoyed reading too, reading Ben’s notes. She supposed she could give it up for a week, but she would have to make time during the day to read. There��d have to be a pause on reading by candlelight at night, which was her favorite time to read them.

Sadie looked at what she had done and laughed to herself.

What was this nonsense?

They didn’t run a hotel. Sadie wasn’t a housekeeper.

Why was this required?

Although Ensign Alby was nice, from what Sadie could tell…

Why was this his right?

☆☆☆☆

Sadie walked down the stairs to rejoin her father, Major Howe, and the other soldiers. She yawned—it was quite past her bedtime, and wondered when they would leave. She steadied herself on the handrail as she suddenly felt lightheaded. She couldn’t remember the last time she had water.

As she walked around the corner, the front doors of the tavern came bursting open.

“Father! Father I—“ Nathan’s voice boomed in the tavern and slowly lowered as he saw the British soldiers standing around the table now. Ben followed right behind him and locked eyes with Sadie. Sadie took a deep breath and walked slowly toward them all, unlocking eyes with Ben.

“Oh,” Nathan pressed his lips together, “apologies, gentlemen.”

“And whom might you be? This tavern is about to close up for the night,” Major Howe inquired, crossing his arms.

Nathan looked at his father, Sadie, and then back to Major Howe.

“This tavern actually closed about an hour ago,” Nathan began, ignoring the death glare from his father, “and I am the owner’s son, Nathan Hale.”

Major Howe raised an eyebrow and then motioned toward Ben.

“And you?”

“Benjamin Tallmadge, sir,” Ben replied, slightly bowing his head.

“Well, Nathan, we have acquainted with your lovely father and charming sister, already, but I am afraid our meeting must be cut short. We will be here for the next week or so, and I do hope we can get to know each other until then,” Major Howe smiled, seemingly genuine. Sadie watched as the men all looked at each other. Nathan smiled, but Sadie knew it was fake. Ben’s expression was hard to read.

“Likewise,” Nathan replied. “Benjamin and I will help you and your men out.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, but I appreciate your good intentions. Besides, Ensign Alby has found residence here. Sadie has prepared his quarters,” Major Howe informed them. That was when Sadie’s world turned black, and she heard someone shout her name.

 ☆☆☆☆

Sadie first heard distant murmuring. Her eyes were shut, and for a moment, she thought it was the start of the day again. Well, technically it was, but it was a new day. She moved on what she recognized to be her own bed, and the murmuring got louder. There was a slight throbbing in the front of her head.

“Oh, she’s awake,” an earthy, feminine voice spoke. Sadie opened her eyes at the stranger’s voice and saw a young woman lean over her—she had olive skin, very dark brown hair, and a beautiful, full smile.

“Mornin’, tot. You were out for a while,” the woman said again. Sadie furrowed her brows and looked at her confusedly.

“Who…” Sadie whispered.

Suddenly, Nathan appeared behind the woman and smiled down at his sister.

“Finally, Sadie. You really can sleep. You had us all worried,” Nathan placed a hand on Sadie’s shoulder. Sadie tried to sit up but the woman gently pushed her back down.

“Nathan, shouldn’t you be in class?” Sadie asked her brother.

Nathan smiled, “let me worry about that. Besides, Ben said he would take notes for what I missed.”

The mention of Ben made Sadie’s heart beat faster. All she wanted was to speak with him, to see him, but with everyone here, she knew it wasn’t possible. When would she have a moment with him? When would she see him again? A week?!

“I’m sorry,” Sadie said, feeling her voice dry. The woman handed her a cup of water which Sadie gulped in seconds. “Who are you?” Sadie asked.

“I’m Genevieve,” the woman said, “but you can call me Genny.”

“Genny? I’m Sadie,” Sadie said. Genny smiled, her nose crinkling.

“Genny is uh—,” Nathan began, “well, she’s a friend, but also helps at the druggist in town. I thought of her first when you passed out, and Genny came right away to see what happened,” Nathan explained.

Sadie nodded her head and smiled at her brother—Genny was a friend? She wished he brought her around earlier; it would have been nice to have a female friend.

“You had a lack of water,” Genny explained, “when you work these shifts, you have to remember to take care of yourself, Sadie.”

Sadie nodded. She never passed out at the tavern before. It must have been a mix of the long night, the news of the quartering, and seeing the men in the same room as Nathan and Ben. It was overwhelming, just like how she felt now.

And then Sadie had a moment of realization.  

“Well, where are Ensign Alby and the Major?”

Nathan’s expression hardened at their names. He paced her room and looked out the window.

“Doin’ whatever it is they do. But the Ensign will be back before supper,” Nathan told Sadie. She nodded in understanding.

“Oh, she’s awake,” Richard said in the doorway. “Quite the impression you made on the Major, Sadie.”

Sadie tried to hide the embarrassment on her face by looking out the window. Nathan’s jaw clenched when he heard his father’s voice from behind him.

“Ben is here, Nathan,” Richard stated. Nathan ignored his father as he walked back downstairs. Sadie shifted her attention to the door, awaiting Ben’s arrival, but she was quickly disappointed to see Nathan meeting Ben downstairs.

“They’ve been fighting all day,” Genny whispered to Sadie, “Nathan doesn’t like that he’s letting the Ensign stay here.”

“Well, he has no choice,” Sadie explained, shrugging her shoulders. Genny pressed her lips together.

“At least it’s not for a long time,” Genny smiled. Sadie hoped she would have the impression on people the way Genny has had on her—she was truly breathtaking in every sense of the word.

“That’s true,” was all Sadie could say.

“Well, the good news is, the British aren’t staying here long. The bad news is, they’re staying here for a week,” Nathan announced, entering Sadie’s room again. Sadie looked over Nathan’s shoulder, expecting to see Ben, but was disheartened to see any empty doorway. Then again, why would he come up here anyway? It would look strange to Nathan. Plus, she wouldn’t want Ben to see her like this, anyway.

“Sadie, do you feel comfortable with a British officer being a door away?” Nathan asked his sister.

“I don’t quite like it but there isn’t much I can do about that,” Sadie said.

“Well, what if I suddenly wanted to move in here and then that forced you to move out?” Nathan suggested—Sadie knew he was thinking of all possible scenarios, but there was no use. She might as well just tough it out until they left.

“And where will I go, brother?” Sadie asked him incredulously—it’s no surprise Nathan came up with the most outrageous ideas with seemingly no explanation.

“Well, Genny said you could stay with her, for the time being,” Nathan replied. Sadie looked at Genny who had a soft expression on her face. While Sadie liked the idea, it would be far too suspicious, and suddenly Sadie felt overwhelmed by everyone’s concern.

“I would appreciate it if you just let me think of this on my own,” Sadie snapped, her exhaustion hitting her suddenly. Sadie gave an apologetic look at Genny. “I’m sorry, Genny. Nathan, please, there is too much going on right now and I’d like to rest before I have to prep for dinner,” Sadie huffed. She felt like he was treating her like a child… she knows how to handle herself!

“She won’t be doing that and you won’t be giving her ideas,” Richard appeared again in the doorway, his fists on his hips. Nathan whipped around, ready to say something, but Richard held up a finger, silencing his son. Sadie crossed her arms and fell back onto her pillow.

“I’ll make some tea for you and leave you be,” Genny gave Sadie a small smile. Sadie nodded and thanked her, glaring at Nathan and her father. She knew Nathan was just concerned, but she didn’t like the intrusiveness of his ideas. Why couldn’t she just deal with it herself? She may not like it, but she’s capable of dealing with tough situations, she thought.

“I’d like to talk to you two. Now,” Richard demanded Nathan and Genny. The two of them shared a look and reluctantly walked downstairs. Genny gave one last look at Sadie before disappearing behind Nathan.

Sadie, finally alone, lay on her side and closed her eyes. There was only one person she wanted to be with right now, and there was no way to reach him.

[dlyarchitecture]