Title: You and Your Grand Ideas
Author: Sherry Thornburg
Author's Email: Thornburgs77 a gmail
Feedback: Yes, please
Permission to Archive: Privately only, with notice to me where it is.
Category: Family
Rating: K
Main Characters: The Foggs, Jules Verne and Passepartout
Disclaimer: SAJV and original characters copywrite Tailsman/Promark/etc., no infringement is intended.
Summary: Sunny summers call Phileas away from the rains of London to cross the sea. Only he wasn't paying attention to the calendar.
"You and your grand ideas," Rebecca complained from her side of the Aurora's cabin. She picked up another item that had been thrown from its place when they had to make an emergency landing. Jules and Passepartout were upstairs cleaning up the workshop. Rebecca didn't even want to think of what sort of mess they were dealing with.
"You could have killed us all!"
Phileas looked up as he retrieved his sword and canes from the corner behind the chase "How was I supposed to know this would happen?"
He resumed, squatting to get to the ones under the chase. Thankfully, the furniture was bolted to the floor, so there wasn't the mess there could have been. Phileas refused to look a Rebecca.
I know this is his fault, I own the Aurora, so, am ultimately responsible. And yes, I should have known better. It just never occurred to me.
It didn't help his pride any that the mistake was making him defensive.
"If I should have perceived this catastrophe, you should have too, Rebecca," he shouted back still not looking at her. "I didn't hear you make any suggestions toward a change in heading."
"Oh Phileas! It is your ship."
"That's completely beside the point!"
Rebecca wanted so much to get into an is-too-is-not battle. She could taste it.
Not half an hour ago, they had been the victims of a shore bombardment. Shells had been going off all around them and she had been terrified for both the Aurora's air bag and their lives. Rockets blasting to the right and left and over and under them. Sparks flew about everywhere. For all she had known, the League had set up an ambush. They had landed as fast as they could in a field with nervous cows running away.
She looked outside. The cowards were back. Milling around the airship like their stampede was just a great joke.
"Take a Yankee holiday, he said," she fumed under her breath. "Head to New York. Maybe take a train ride to the Mississippi River and catch a leisurely cruise to New Orleans."
Rebecca turned and said louder, "But in all that, you never once considered what time of year. Or what the date would be when we arrived?"
"Independence Day!" she shouted, turning her full fury on her cousin. "Next time try to remember that Americans celebrate at least one holiday we don't!"
Upstairs, Jules and Passepartout had not started their cleaning. They had gone to the observation deck to see the last of the fireworks. They were still going off all up and down the coastline. The two Frenchmen considered the spectacle an early Bastille Day celebration. In a sense, the two holidays were very similar.
Passepartout took up the bottle of wine he brought from the workroom. He poured another round for them both. "What Americans say, Happy 4th of July!"
He clicked Jules's glass.
Jules took a drink and raised his glass to the last fading sparks in the sky.
"Happy Independence Day, America!"