Back in her time Read Online Free PDF

watched as the guys sat up, one by one, held their noses, closed their mouths, puffed up their cheeks and blew, lips pursed. Taylor followed suit, not wanting to ask what they were doing. Soon her ears popped and she could hear clearly. Didn’t realize I couldn’t hear. I’ll have to try that if I ever get to fly on a plane back home. If I ever get home.
    Before Taylor had time to think further, she heard a different roar from down the road. “What is it?” she asked Red, who blinked his eyes open.
    â€œWe’ve won this round, Junior,” said Red.
    â€œThat is the sound of victory!” Mac shouted. Cheers erupted all around them.
    Taylor put two fingers in her mouth and blasted a shrill whistle.
    â€œTeach me how to do that, will you?” said Sarge nearby as he stood up and joined a long line of infantry plodding toward the former battle site.
    â€œSure — it’s easy. My grandfather taught me.” She smiled.

Chapter Eight

    Passing on the way out of a small town, the enemy having long retreated, Taylor beheld a strange sight. Oh, no! Where have I time-travelled to now?
    Lined up in a row on the right side of the road were penguins. Can it be? Taylor glanced around her: she was still marching with her unit. As she neared the penguins, she fell into a fit of laughter. Soon the soldiers all around were doing the same. Good, they’re having the same hallucination.
    Whitey was the first to recognize the apparition. “It’s nuns. They’re offering us something to drink.” Whitey reached out a hand as a small pewter cup was presented to him. Cautiously he took a sip. “Hey, guys, it’s red wine. And really good!”
    Soon the whole platoon was reaching out for a proffered cup. The eight nuns in their long black tunics, white coifs and wimples, with black veils covering their hair, wiped each cup clean with a cloth and poured again for the next soldier.
    â€œWho speaks spic?” asked Whitey. “How do I say thank you?”
    â€œMake the sign of the cross like this and say, ‘Rigatoni,’” said Taylor, suppressing a grin. She crossed herself as she remembered seeing Catholics do in the movies.
    Whitey, then Red, Swampy, and a few others ran their right hands clumsily over their chests and mumbled, “Rig-a-something,” as they handed their cups back to the nuns. Red made a little bow as well, which a couple of others copied. Taylor was bent over with laughter. The nuns bowed their heads and murmured, “ Prego, di niente .”
    â€œYou pulled a good one, Junior,” said Mac as he came up alongside of her. “I think the word is ‘ grazie .’”
    â€œJust couldn’t help myself,” said Taylor as she smiled broadly, her step a little lighter after the wine tasting. “Boy, that wine sure was good. I thought Eyetie wine was supposed to be so terrible.”
    Mac laughed heartily. “That’s what some of the guys will say so they can keep what they find all to themselves.”
    * * *
    Something was wrong with Taylor’s stomach. She flinched again at the sharp jab. Doubled over with cramps, she headed for some bushes. Instant latrine. Emerging, buttoning her trousers, she felt weak and appeared pale.
    â€œSomebody’s got the trots, have they?” Mac nodded sympathetically, running his tongue over his lips.
    â€œI guess. Is there anything to take for it?” said Taylor. Mom would have something in the medicine cabinet at home. She’s big into pain relief.
    â€œThe medics have gone on ahead. Try drinking some water to flush it out. That may help,” said Sarge, falling back to see what the slowdown was.
    â€œJunior’s trying to crap out of the war,” said Red. Laughter erupted from those in hearing distance.
    â€œIt’ll take more than that to get you to sick bay, soldier. Stop when you have to.” Sarge moved forward again.
    Taylor wasn’t