General Fiction posted August 30, 2018


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Time travel isn't always fun

Down the rabbit hole

by Earl Corp

This Sentence Starts The Story Contest Winner 

Time travel isn’t supposed to be possible. But yet here I am holding a flintlock Kentucky long rifle and standing shoulder to shoulder with what appeared to be mountain man reenactors on a parapet behind a limestone wall.

A bee buzzed past my ear then I realized rather than a bee, it was a musket ball, moving at a high rate of velocity. I peered over the wall and my heart sank, all I could see was a sea of blue uniformed Mexican troops camped as far as the eye could see. It appeared we were surrounded.

'Aw shit,' I thought to myself. Then the realization hit me, 'I’m in the Alamo!'

Another bee buzzed past my head.
“Looks like things are beginning to heat up,” the man to my left said with a grin. “You bean eaters can’t shoot for sour apples,” he yelled over the wall.
“That’s tellin’ em Davy,” someone down the line yelled.
“Holy Moly, I’m standing next to Davy Crocket at the Alamo,” I thought. I then realized my predicament, “Holy Moly I’m standing next to Davy Crocket at the Alamo, and about 5,000 Mexicans are about to roll over us like a tidal wave.”

“You all right young’un? you look a little peaked,” Crockett asked me.

I was still trying to process my situation while balancing it with the hero worship I felt for Crockett. It was the equivalent to my little sister being pulled on stage to sing with Rhianna. The big difference was meeting my idol was likely going to get me killed.

Crockett handed me a cow horn with a wooden plug in the end.

“I’m getting low on powder how about fetching some?” Crockett asked.

At that moment if Davy Crockett had asked me to wade into the Mexican Army armed with only a knife and a tomahawk I’d be on my way over the wall.

“Sure thing  Mr. Crockett,” I said.

“Mr. Crockett,” Davy’s voice boomed, “Hell’s Bells boy we’re about to die together, call me Davy.”

“Sure thing Davy,” I said as I scooted towards the ladder.  As I was making my way to the armory, a stiff-necked man with a blue coat and a sword attached to his belt stopped me.

“Come here boy,” he commanded me. I approached him curiously.

“Where are you headed?” he asked.

“To the armory to fetch some powder for Davy Crockett.”

“That can wait, I need to have you go back up and pass the word I need to have every man on the parade field as soon, and quietly, as possible.”

“Yes sir,” I replied.

I climbed back up the ladder quickly.

“You got my powder?” Crockett asked.

“Nope, Colonel Travis sent me up to tell everyone to assemble down on the parade field.”

“I’ll pass the word, this must be something important,” Crockett said.
“You don’t even know the half of it,” I thought to myself.

As the men gathered, Travis paced back and forth in front of the loose formation. When everyone was gathered he cleared his throat to get their attention. Once he had it, he began to speak
.
“Men we’re in dire straits here, there aren’t an y reinforcements coming and the grand gentleman outside has asked for our surrender, I TOLD HIM TO GO TO HELL,” Travis shouted, much to the delight of all those gathered on the field.

“I can’t in good conscience ask you to stay and die,” he continued.

“Then don’t ask,” shouted Crockett. This eased the tension of the moment as everyone started to laugh. Travis drew his sword and scratched a line across the width of the field.
“Those who are willing to stay and fight are to cross the line, remember you won’t find glory more than likely you’ll find death.”

As men started across the line one thought kept running through my mind, “I’m not supposed to be here.”

Crockett caught my eye and gave me a nod. I took that step across the line that could be labeled Bravery/Foolhardy. “Oh well in for a penny, in for a pound,” I thought.”

Crockett grinned at me, “you ready?” he asked.
“For what?”
“The great mystery,” he replied.

“I guess as ready as I’ll ever be.”

As we took our place back on the wall I ruminated on the fix I was in. One minute I was playing video games, the next I was facing down certain death and time travel wasn’t supposed to be possible.

“Here younker I want you to have this,” Crockett said as he put something into my hand. In the fading light I saw that Davy had given me a rabbit’s foot. “I hope that brings you more luck than it has for me,” he said.

As I shoved it into my pockets, trumpets sounded from the Mexican lines. Cannons started firing, the time had come. As thousands of Mexican troops charged the walls the 180 defenders were trying to cut the odds down as fast as they could fire and reload their flintlocks
.
As Mexicans swarmed over the walls I saw Crockett swinging his rifle like a baseball bat as he was being surrounded by the enemy.  I snapped off a shot that missed, but it caught the attention of an enemy soldier. He turned around and to my horror it was like watching a movie in slow motion.

As he brought his rifle to his shoulder I could see the barrel opening as big as the Lincoln Tunnel. My last conscious thought was the flame that spouted out of the end of the rifle was as pretty as fireworks.

Then everything went black.

I don’t know how long I was out before I groaned. I snuck a peek expecting to be surrounded by Mexican troops , instead my mother was standing over me with a worried look on her face.

“Wha-wha-what happened?” I asked.
“You had a bad fall and received a concussion,” my mom said.

Looking around, I saw I was in the hospital and I was wearing Nikes instead of moccasins. My buckskins had been replaced by my faded Levis. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the rabbit’s foot Crockett had given me. But time travel isn’t supposed to be possible.


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