At the beach I was met by a man with a scratchy beard and patched-up clothes. He held his hand out to me, stopping me from boarding. “Who are you? State your business.”
“I need to get on that ship, sir.”
“Answer my questions first or else no boarding.”
I nodded, straightening a little. “Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens, aide-de-camp to His Excellency, General George Washington.”
“Washington you say? But the army’s stationed in White Plains, New York. What’re you doin’ in Ticonderoga?”
“Please,” I beggеd, “I need to get on that ship. I need to see Alexander Hamilton. It’s urgеnt.”
“Well, sir, no one’s supposed to be boarding or leaving that boat until Hamilton leaves, so I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to get on.”
I huffed, ready to scream at him until I got my way, until I spied a little rowboat behind him. If I could only be able to escape to it then I’d be able to row to the Languedoc and get to Alexander. Still, that was only to be done if nothing else worked, so I continued my pleading. “Please, sir. It’s—it’s urgent news from the general, His Excellency, the commander-in-chief!”
“You ain’t gotta lie with me. If something were so urgent he’d send a letter, but we haven’t received anything of the sort.”
“Please!” I tried again. “I already told you that I need to get onto that ship!
“And I already told you you couldn’t. Guess the world is unfair even to Washington’s golden boys, now isn’t it?”
This man had angered me long enough. Shoving the coins I had put readily in my palm in case I needed to pay him into my pocket, I sprinted behind him. His hand just grazed my hat as I ran to the boat, resulting in it falling off my head. Not that I cared; Alexander was more important.
“Hey!” the man cried after me similarly to what His Excellency had. “Get back here, boyo!”
Quickly, I jumped into the boat, my weight a sudden shock and making it sway underneath me so that my hands kept missing the oars. Finally, my fingers grasped them tightly in my hand, and though the unpolished wood left splinters in my palms, I began to row toward the Languedoc.
“Get back here!” he ordered me before turning to two men who were now running down the beach from God-knows-where. “Stop him!”
The water was warm, but almost too warm so that it burned, as I rowed through the water. It was near impossible what with the shallow riverbank but I kept my rowing quick and consistent by thinking of Alexander. He needed me, I reminded myself, and now more than ever.
I groaned with each pull at the oars, each row making them heavier and heavier in my hands. My palms ached from all of the splinters that had pierced my skin and from how tight I gripped the wood I didn’t doubt they were leaving callouses. It nearly made me slow down just enough to catch my breath, but when I realized that the water that was splashing at the rowboat was from the strokes of the two men as they swam toward me, I immediately rowed faster and faster.
The hands of the two men clawed at my oars, trying to bring them and my rowboat to a halt. I tried to hit them in the head with it or at least make them fear I would do so but with their tight hold on them it was near impossible to move them. I saw the man I was talking to earlier beginning to swim toward the rowboat too, no doubt going to drag me from the boat with the two other men keeping it in place. And that was exactly what he did. Taking long strokes with his arms, kicking hard with his legs so that the boat rocked a little, he swam closer and closer to me. Finally, he was right there, and he began to tug on my arm. “C’mon, you get—”
Suddenly, one of the man’s holds on my oar lifted as he came back up to the surface, hand holding his head. “Ow!” he exclaimed, turning to the man who had met me at the beach. “You insane? You kicked my head, you rascal!”
The man was about to respond when the other person who had been holding my oars came to the surface too, clutching his chest. He pointed to the other man who had been keeping my boat in place. “You call him insane? You’re the one who kicked me in the stomach!”
I would’ve listened to their bickering and laughed at it, but what with this being a golden opportunity to escape, I drowned their voices out. Quickly, I grabbed hold of the oars and began to row faster and faster, not stopping even when my arms burned from the pain. I would get to Alexander no matter the cost.