Chapter December 1773
It was a cold day in December when the ships came in. We knew they were coming, and yet new anger boiled in our veins at actually seeing them in our harbor. For weeks I had begged Charles to tell me what had been planned to deal with the ships and their unwanted tea, but to no avail. Charles knew me too well, and knew what I would do with the knowledge of a new Patriot plot: I would join in. But Charles was not the only one who knew what Sam Adams had up his sleeve, almost every street rat knew where to be and what to do.
The rain that had been earlier on the 16th had cleared to show a beautiful moon over Griffins Wharf. I recognized Mr. Revere easily, even with his sooty face and Indian costume. Boys approached him, saying the obviously arranged sign "Me Know You." I held back, wondering what help I would be without an axe, or the strength to pry open the crates should I have one. I also wondered if I would be recognized as Jemmy, but quickly decided not, as that had been years ago, and, in any case, my face was smeared with soot and the dark night.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned with a start. I couldn't well make out his face in the dark, but the shape of his jaw showed clearly. "Jemmy," Peter whispered. I hadn't spoken to him since my confrontation with him two months ago, and wondered if he was still angry. Although, in fact, it really had only been me who was angry. "You shouldn't be here-your brother would have a fit, or what if one of your family found out?"
"I don't care, Peter, I want to be a part of this. Damn the consequences," I hissed, glaring at him ardently.
"You won't have the strength to open the crates. Please, please go home," my good friend implored me to be reasonable, as I well knew what he asked was the only reasonable course. But how could desire be overcome by reason? I did not know the answer to this question, yet somehow I found myself turning around, and walking home. And now, I know: reason cannot overcome desire, but one desire can overcome another. Desire for what, you ask? My guess was as good as yours.
"Jemmy," Peter called after me. I turned to look him straight in the eyes. "Would you pay me a visit when you can?" I nodded, and watched with envy as he turned to help our cause.