The Portal Page 5

  We kept walking, without any idea of where to go or what to do. Kevin pointed to the guards patrolling outside the fence, rifles on their shoulders. "They're serious," he said. "Nobody's getting out of here."

  Great. We were stuck inside a refugee camp. My stomach started growling and my legs started hurting. "I don't think I can walk much farther," I said. "I'm so tired I could sleep in the mud."

  "We need to get blankets or something," Kevin said.

  "How are we going to do that—steal them and get killed?"

  He didn't answer.

  "Hey there!" A thin man with long, stringy hair and a beard was standing in front of us. "Did I hear you say you needed a blanket?" He smiled at us. His face was pock-marked, and he was missing a lot of teeth. His left eye wandered when he spoke.

  Stranger danger, I thought. My mother was always talking about stranger danger. But what do you do when everyone's a stranger?

  Neither of us answered, so the man kept on talking. "You boys here on your own?" We still didn't answer, so the guy just kept talking. "These are parlous times to be on your own. But I have a beautiful blanket I can let you have for a mere five shillings. Made from the finest Vermont wool. Just step over to my wagon here."

  I looked at his wagon. A sad-looking donkey stood next to it, staring at us. How much was a shilling, I wondered. Didn't matter. "We don't have any money," I said.

  The man's smile faded a little. "Parlous times, indeed," he said. "What about barter, then? Have you anything to trade?" He looked us over, then pointed at Kevin. "Odd-looking hat," he said. Then, "This object on your wrist—what might that be?"

  "It's a watch," Kevin said.

  "A watch? Strange place to have a watch. Why not keep it in your pocket? Let me take a look." He grabbed Kevin's arm. "Odd-looking watch, as well. No case, no hands on the dial. But I tell you what—I have a charitable heart, seeing you here by yourselves. I'll give you a blanket for it, and I'll throw in a pound of salted pork."

  Seemed like a good deal to me, although salted pork sounded awful. But all of a sudden Kevin got a funny look on his face and pulled his arm back. "No thanks," he said.

  The man's smile faded a bit more. "You lads won't get a better deal in this wretched camp," he pointed out. "Nights are growing colder, and who knows how long we'll be imprisoned here? The price of necessities will only go up."

  "Sorry," Kevin said. He turned to me. "Let's go, Larry."

  I was really annoyed with him. What did he want the stupid watch for? Who cared what time it was, when we were going to have to sleep in the mud?

  Kevin started walking quickly back the way we'd come. "Are you nuts?" I said to him.

  He shook his head. "It's not just a watch," he said. "It's a calculator. It's a timer. It's really cool."

  "So what?"

  "So—maybe it's worth more than a blanket in this world. Maybe we're worth something in this world."

  "Kevin, they know how to add. They know how to tell time."

  "Yeah," he said, "but they've never seen a calculator before."

  "Big deal. Anyway, where are we going?"

  Kevin pointed. "Back to the gate."

  The gate was closing. We ran up to it and slithered through.

  The soldier we had talked to before didn't look happy to see us again. "Curfew, lads," he said. "Back inside with you."

  "Sir, I have a strange and wonderful invention that I'd like to share with the military leadership," Kevin said.

  The soldier looked at him as if he were crazy. Farmfolk. "Let's go," he demanded. "There's a war on, and no time for foolishness."

  "How much is 375 times 13?" Kevin asked.

  The soldier was starting to get angry.

  "Come here and see what I do," Kevin went on before he could yell at us. "This'll be interesting, I guarantee." The soldier hesitated, then leaned forward. Kevin put his watch in calculator mode, held it up so the soldier could see, then did the multiplication. "3875," he said. "See how easy that was?"

  The soldier thought about it for a moment, and then said, "Can I try?"

  Kevin held his arm out and showed him what to do. "I never was very good at ciphering," the soldier muttered as he hit the numbers. He grinned with delight when the answer was displayed. "Hey Caleb," he called out to a tall soldier with a scruffy beard who was guarding the gate. "Come look at this!"

  Caleb took a look and had the same reaction—surprise and excitement. The next soldier who came by, though, was terrified by the watch. "This is some devilry," he muttered, glaring at Kevin like he was the devil.

  "Now, Oliver," Caleb said to him, "it's just a toy."

  Oliver shook his head. "The devil makes toys, too," he muttered, and he walked away.

  "The thing is," Kevin said to Caleb, "I'd like to show this to your commanding officer. I think it might be helpful in the war. We know other stuff that might help, too."

  Caleb considered, and then said, "Go find Sergeant Hornbeam, Fred. He'll be interested in this."

  Fred—that was the first soldier's name—went off, and returned in a few minutes, accompanied by a large soldier with bright red hair. He gave us the strange look we were used to by now, and then said: "Let me see the thing."

  Kevin held out his arm.

  Sergeant Hornbeam shook his head. "Take it off," he said.

  Reluctantly Kevin took the watch off and handed it to the sergeant, who took it and studied it. Finally he let Fred show him how to use it. Then he looked at us again. "Are you Chinese?" he demanded.

  "No, we're—we're farmfolk," Kevin said.

  "The inscription on this object says it was made in China." He made it sound like an accusation.

  "Well, uh, this is complicated," Kevin said. "It was made in China, but we didn't get it there."

  "Do we look Chinese?" I asked.

  Sergeant Hornbeam glared at me. "How would I know what the Chinese look like?" Then he put the watch into his pocket. "An interesting toy," he said.

  "Hey," Kevin cried. "That's mine."

  "I thought you wanted to contribute it to the army," the sergeant said.

  "But we have to talk to somebody in charge. They'll need to know more about it."

  He shrugged. "I don't see why. If Fred can use it, anyone can use it." Caleb laughed; even Fred smiled. Then the sergeant seemed to think about the situation some more. "Where are your families?" he asked.

  "We're here on our own," Kevin said. "We just arrived."

  The sergeant thought a bit longer, then gestured to Fred and Caleb. "Put them in the brig for the night," he said. "We'll see what the morrow brings." Then he turned to us. "Fare you well, lads," he said, and he walked away.

  I looked at Kevin. The brig?

  "Come on, lads," Fred said. "The brig isn't much, but it's better than the camp, I daresay."

  He and Caleb led us to a long low wooden building near the camp. "Where'd you get that thing?" Fred asked. "Off a trading ship?"

  "Something like that," Kevin said.

  "I hear they've got all sorts of amazing inventions over in China," he went on.

  "Maybe if we had the Chinese for an ally we could win this damfool war," Caleb added.

  "Maybe if we had any ally at all we'd have a chance."

  "What do you think Sergeant Hornbeam will do with my watch?" Kevin asked the soldiers. "We really need to get it to a general or somebody like that."

  "Oh, Sarge'll do the right thing," Fred said. "Don't know if the generals will pay attention, though. They're too busy arguing with the president."

  The first part of the building was the soldiers' barracks. Beds were lined up against one of the walls. A few soldiers were playing cards at a table, others were sitting on their beds cleaning their equipment. The air was so thick with tobacco smoke that I wanted to gag. Fred and Caleb led us through the barracks to a room at the back. A fat, sleepy soldier sat slumped in a chair by the door. He peered at us as we approached. "What'd they do?" he asked. "Sneak out of the camp and pinch some
eggs in Cheapside?"

  "If they did that, the folks in Cheapside would be happy to take care of them," Caleb said. "No, Sergeant Hornbeam wants to hold onto them. See that they have every comfort, Benjamin. They're our guests."

  "No comforts to be had, I'm afraid. Odd-looking little fellows, ain't they? I like that one's hat, though." Benjamin struggled to his feet and took a key out of his pocket, which he used to unlock the door to an inner room. "Chamber pot's in the far corner," he said to us. "Try not to rouse Chester. He's only peaceable when he's sleeping."

  Caleb and Fred said farewell, Benjamin locked the door behind us, and there we were in jail on our first night in the new world.

  It was dark—the only light was from the small opening in the door. We heard a loud noise that we finally recognized was snoring. As our eyes adjusted to the darkness, we saw a big red-jacketed man lying with his head against the wall. Like everything in this world, it seemed, he stank.

  "This is just great," I said to Kevin as we sat on the floor against the opposite wall, as far away from Chester as we could get.

  "Come on, Larry, it could be worse," he replied. "This is what we were trying to do, right? Turn ourselves in. Get them to pay attention to us."

  "But what happens next? What's your watch going to do for us?"

  "Anyone with any brains will know there's nothing like that watch in this world," he explained. "So they'll want to talk to us, find out where we got it."

  "And then what? You think they'll believe our story? You sure they won't think we're the devil, like that other soldier?"

  "I dunno. But in the meantime they'll probably feed us. I've already gotten us out of the mud for tonight. It's worth a shot, Larry."

  I supposed he was right. And it wasn't like I had any better ideas. Suddenly I could barely keep my eyes open. We seemed to be moderately safe for the night, except for Chester, who continued to snore loudly across the room. And there wasn't anything else we could accomplish right now except hope that Sergeant Hornbeam would do more than pocket Kevin's watch as a silly little toy. The floor wasn't going to be comfortable, but it was better than sleeping outdoors in the mud.

  I thought of the couple of weeks I had spent at sleepaway camp during the summer, how homesick I'd gotten, how brave I thought I was being when I stuck it out—with a counselor sleeping in the same cabin, with my parents just a two-hour drive away and sending me letters every day. "We'll get out of this, right, Kevin?" I asked.

  "Yeah. Of course we will. It's just a matter of time."

  "Right." He didn't sound too sure of himself, but that was okay. I slid down to lie on the floor. "Good night, Kevin."

  "Good night, Larry."

  When I closed my eyes I thought of Matthew—was it really just last night?—telling me how life was really okay. Yeah, yeah, I'd thought. Would you please shut up so I can get some sleep? Now what wouldn't I give to be back in my own bed, listening to Matthew babble?

  I was too tired to cry. I miss you, I whispered into the darkness. But there was no one there to hear me.

  Chapter 7

  When I woke up it was light out, and at first I had no clue where I was. Why wasn't I looking at the Final Fantasy poster in my bedroom? How come I was so uncomfortable? What was that weird dream I'd had? Who was that huge man glaring at me from across the room?

  Chester. All the memories of yesterday came flooding back. This wasn't a dream.

  I looked over at Kevin. He was still asleep.

  "Boys," Chester rumbled. "I don't like boys."

  "Uh, hi," I said.

  Chester just shook his head and glared at me some more.

  Benjamin must have heard us, because he unlocked the door and stuck his head in. "'Morning, gents," he said. "Chester, you may be excused. Go thou and sin no more."

  "I'm hungry," Chester said.

  Benjamin shook his head. "Not my problem, Chester. Now be off to the mess, before we become angry."

  Amazingly, Chester got to his feet, dusted off his dirty red jacket, glared at me one final time, and then obediently walked out of the brig.

  Benjamin then turned his attention to Kevin and me. "Sleep well, lads?"

  I nodded. Kevin had awakened and was rubbing his eyes sleepily.

  "Did Sergeant Hornbeam say anything about what's going to happen to us?" I asked.

  "Sergeant Hornbeam is not with us at the moment. You'll need to stay here until he sends instruction."

  "Any chance we could go to the mess?" I asked. "I'm pretty hungry."

  "Let me see what I can do," Benjamin said, and he left, locking the door behind him.

  Kevin sat up. "I dreamed that this was all a dream," he said.

  "Maybe we'll wake up again, and you'll be right."

  "Wouldn't that be good." He sighed. "I've gotta use that thing over there," he said, pointing to the pot in the corner of the cell. I closed my eyes while Kevin did his business.

  Were there any flush toilets in this world, I wondered. Did they have toothpaste? Hot showers?

  Eventually Benjamin came back with a tray of food: cups of tea and bowls of, well, mush. It could have been oatmeal, but it didn't have any milk or sugar, and it was all I could do to get a few spoonfuls down. I'd never drunk tea before, and that didn't taste much better. When I had finished trying to eat, I was as hungry as when I started. Kevin had barely touched his food either. He was looking pretty glum.

  After a while Benjamin came for the trays. "Porridge not to your liking?" he asked.

  "Can we go outside?" Kevin asked back. "We won't leave, I promise."

  Benjamin considered. "All right. It's going to be hot—not a good day to spend in the brig. But stay right by the barracks."

  We followed him out of the cell. There were only a few soldiers in the barracks, plus an old man mopping the floor. We went outside. It did feel like it was going to be a hot day. No air conditioning, I thought. No fans. I looked around. None of the buildings had been painted, and there was lumber lying around on the ground. They had been put up in a hurry, I realized.

  We sat down on some boards by the entrance to the barracks and watched the wagons go by, heading for the camp.

  "Maybe now's the time to leave," Kevin said.

  "You mean: go back to Glanbury?"

  "Yeah. We could stay off the main road and hide from the Portuguese army. If we started now, we could probably make it by dark."

  "You think the New England soldiers'd let us out that gate we went through?"

  Kevin thought for a second. "I don't know. Anyway, there's got to be a way around," he decided. "They can't fence in the whole city."

  "And you think the Portuguese army wouldn't shoot us if they caught us?" I said. "Or at least treat us worse than this? You think we're smart enough to find the portal without getting caught? It was your idea to do this thing with the watch, Kevin. Why don't we just see what happens?"

  He didn't answer. "I wish I was in school," he said.

  "I wish I had a bowl of Frosted Flakes and a big glass of orange juice."

  We fell silent, and just sat there in the hot sun.

  Eventually Caleb came by. "Morning, mates," he said. "Anything happen yet with your ciphering machine?"

  We shook our heads. "I hope Sergeant Hornbeam hasn't forgotten about us," Kevin said.

  "No, no, he wouldn't do that. He's a busy man, though. We're all busy, more's the pity. Looks like the camp'll fill up today. Have to open up another one somewhere. Never knew there was this many people in all of New England."

  "Is there some way we could talk to him?" Kevin asked.

  "Oh, he'll be around. Never worry, mates. Just enjoy the day."

  Then he went off, and we were left to ourselves again. Soldiers came and went. Most of them knew seemed to know about us and asked about the "ciphering machine." A couple of them looked at us like we were going to put a curse on them. The sun got hotter. There was no sign of Sergeant Hornbeam.

  Then a carriage pulled up in front of the barr
acks, and a fat officer got out. The soldiers guarding the entrance stood at attention and saluted. The officer was bald, with red cheeks and bushy gray eyebrows, and his uniform was soaked with sweat. When he saw us, he stopped. "Who the devil are you?" he demanded.

  "We're waiting for Sergeant Hornbeam, sir," Kevin said. "He has a watch of mine that—"

  "Oh, that nonsense. Just a gewgaw, if you ask me. Well, you can't just sit around idly all day. There's a war on, in case you haven't noticed." He turned to one of the soldiers. "Corporal—er?"

  "Hennessy, sir."

  "Corporal Hennessy," he repeated. "Find 'em something to do." Then he went inside the barracks and started yelling at the soldiers there about shaping up and looking sharp, there was a war on.

  Corporal Hennessy looked at us. "Colonel Clarett worries that we'll forget we're at war," he said. "I think his concern is misplaced, don't you? Anyway, let's find you a chore."

  We got up and went with him. "Is Colonel Clarett in charge of the camp?" Kevin asked.

  The corporal nodded. "And a nasty job it is, too. No matter what you do, someone'll criticize you. Treat folks too well, you're wasting food. Treat 'em too poorly, you're starving good New England citizens. Let's just hope this doesn't last long."

  "He said our watch was nonsense," Kevin went on. "Does that mean—"

  "Means nothing, mate. I heard about that watch. Lucky for you Sergeant Hornbeam was on duty last night. He'll know what to do with it."

  The corporal led us into another long, unpainted building behind the barracks. It had an awful stench coming out of it. "What's that smell?" Kevin asked.

  The corporal gave him an odd look. "Luncheon," he said. "Have you never smelled salt pork before?"