Setting things right... I nearly got fired today. It’s expected since Jedidiah tried to kill Octavious again. I was told to brush up on my history, and that was what I intended to do. I asked Rebecca if she’d like to have some coffee over at Starbucks. She had accepted my request and carried on in explaining to me just who was Sacagawea. Rebecca was quite knowledgeable about this particular Indian—almost to the point of being a fanatic. But, she was rather interesting to talk to—considering she had such a lovely smile. I told her after two hours that I had to go. I did just that. I grabbed a variety of books, consisting of Attila the Hun, George Washington Carver, Harriet Tubman, and the like. I knew instantly that time could not be wasted—except on bathroom breaks. I quietly huddled in the corner, reading. I thought about last night as I read. Reviewing the events that occurred that night and how Theodore mentioned “Greatness has been thrust upon you.” It seemed too much of a dream. But, when I yelled at Mat—he already expected my anger. So, it wasn’t something I imagined, sadly enough. Later I went home, turned on the television, and began watching The History Channel. I had my laptop nestled on my lap just for reference. This was to be a long day. - I stood in front of the museum with a proud smirk on my face, carrying a polo sport bag containing my defense for the night. I made my bold entrance. It seemed innocent all right. I looked to my wrist watch, “Now.” I whispered, ripping a bone from the dinosaur. With silence, I saw the world around me change. Eyes blinked mysteriously, fingers wiggled, yawns sounded, and stiff steps could be heard. The room glowed with majestic beauty as things began to breathe life. The cries of animals echoed loudly from the second floor—most of them archaic. Inanimate objects became animate. It was a movie playing right in front of my eyes. My smile increased as the dinosaur wagged its tail. “You want it? Yes? You want it?” I teased. The bag of bones nodded. “Ok, go get it!” I cried, throwing it with all the strength I could muster. He rushed to get it. I took my leave. I took out my book and blocked the miniature Mayans’ swift attacks. Another batch of spears came my way, but I managed to be just as quick to protect myself. I slid the glass case shut. Angered tan-skinned Mayans continued to attack their interior walls. Feeling cocky, I stuck out my tongue and tapped on the glass. “Nyah.” I mocked childishly. They eyed me stingily as I walked to Rome’s exhibit, where I met a frustrated Roman general. “What are you doing?” I asked. He looked up to me pettily. “We expand or we die!” He cried, throwing his balled fist high. I rolled my eyes. Typical, I thought. “Heave, men!” I sighed, “You won’t get through that wall, Octavious.” I said. As stubborn as he was, he didn’t take my advice. I went to Jedidiah’s desert oriented exhibit. “Fire that wall to pieces! Put y’all backs into it!” He cried in a thick southerner accent. He had the typical blonde blue-eyed look. “Jed, stop.” I ordered. A fiery glare did I receive. “But, this here’s our land!” He spat. “Hush up, blondie!” barked the Roman. The two began to bicker. I did what any other mature adult would have done….grab them by the legs and put them on top of a bench for a good talking. “I don’t like to be man-handled!” Cried Jeddah. “Well, I will man-handle you, Jed!” I spat. I sighed. “Look, if you guys are good—I’ll let you wander free.” I bribed. Jedidiah brightened up somewhat, “Really? No-o, no problemo, Gigantor.” He agreed. Octavious looked to me gratefully, “Yes, my liege...you have my word” He praised. “And my name’s not Gigantor—it’s Larry—how would you like it if I called you tiny?” I asked. The tiny cowboy frowned, “I don’t like it, hurts my feelings.” He whined. A sheepish look crossed Ocatavious’s face, “I-I called you Larry from the start.” He said. “Don’t be a kiss-***.” I said comically. He nodded slowly. The talk was final. -*- “Andalé!” A voice boomed. The clicking of hooves pierced the silence. I whirled around to face a man on a horse—looking as proud as a peacock. “Yo soy el gran libertador!” He cried. “The grand liberator…” I repeated unsurely. “Simón Bolívar?” I asked. He looked down to me gratefully. “Jou know who I am?” He asked pleasantly. “Of course I do.” I said. He hopped off his noble steed to take a closer look at me. “Jou know, jou’re the only one who knows who I am, hokay?” He began, “’Cause nobody knows who I am these days—and…jou know, it hurts.” He said patting his chest lightly. I nodded in agreement, “Yah, you did a lot in your time.” I comforted. “Then they exiled me and de sexy Manuela!” He cried. “I will kill them all, hokay? I WILL AVENGE MY MANUELA!” He declared. I shook my head. “Don’t…no…don’t you do that! No!” I objected weakly. He hopped onto his cow and galloped away to the Civil War area. Faceless white mannequins in beige military uniform hid cleverly behind logs. Rifles poked out from an opening in their hiding place. The northern and the southern were at the start of a new battle. A battle they never ended. I ran after the liberator before I was pulled down by a faceless northerner who was at war. He pressed his pale finger to his lips and cocked his gun quietly. I looked to him fearfully—suddenley a defeaning explosion occurred. “Fire!” A series of bullets flew speedily into the air, hitting many of the southerners. I screamed. “Homygod!” I exclaimed. I crawled my way out of the battle. I had to find Simón and quick!