The Left Behinds and the iPhone That Saved George Washington by David Potter

are?”
    “Yes.”
    “What sort of waves? Like in the ocean?”
    “No. Invisible ones.”
    “Invisible waves?” says Elizabeth. “That surely must be quite impossible!”
    “Well, it isn’t. I learned about it in science class.”
    “Hmmm. A most interesting theory. Waves, you say? As in, the sound itself—say a clap of my hands—travels via an ‘invisible wave’ from source to ear?”
    “Yes. Something like that.”
    “And this battery—you say it’s ‘built in’? Built into what—this device itself?”
    “Yep.”
    “How could that be? It would have to be incredibly small.”
    “It is incredibly small. They figure out ways to make ’em that way.
Miniaturization
is what they call it.”
    “Miniaturization?”
    “Yes.”
    “May I see it? This battery?”
    “Well, no, you can’t. Not with iPhones. Unless you unscrew it and mess things up.”
    “So what happens when the battery is drained of its charge? Is the device then useless?”
    “No, because you can recharge the battery. I recharge mine every night, but if you use it a lot, you might lose power, which kind of stinks. As a matter of fact, I’m down to about three percent power right now. And I know we’re going to need this phone. So problem number one is, do you think you could figure out a way to get some juice into this thing?”
    He peers at me again, over the rim of his half-spectacles. “Juice,” he says, frowning. “I shall take an intuitive leap,young man. You are not talking about the liquid that one can extract from a lemon, or a lime, or an apple. You are using this word ‘juice’ as a synonym, are you not? For electricity, yes?”
    “Exactly,” I say. He’s an old dude, but he’s one fast learner.
    I’m not surprised. It’s why we came to Philadelphia. He may not know it yet, but I am one hundred percent positive he’s going to be able to help us. He’s only Benjamin Franklin, after all, who happens to be the smartest guy in the world. He’ll figure something out.
    Won’t he?

TWENTY-EIGHT
    H E HANDS THE PHONE back. “Young man,” he says. “I can’t tell you how intrigued I am. I have a thousand questions more—two thousand. The most important of which is, of course, whatever has this … device … to do with General Washington? I am glad I have chosen not to believe what you have told me about his demise, for if I did—if it were true—I would be quite unable … quite unable to function, I fear. Do you know how we came to select Washington to lead us? It was mere months ago … perhaps a year … at the Second Continental Congress. A most deliberative body. Which is to say, there was very little all could agree on most of the time. But we had finally come to a decision: we should have ourselves an army. We cast our eyes about for someone to lead it, andwho should walk into our ken but none other than the tallest man in the room, a man dressed—almost as if he were auditioning for the part—in full military regalia. A bit tight, to be sure, about the stomach and shoulders, but then I found out later the uniform was a relic from our good Virginian’s youth. I turned at once to John Adams and said, ‘There, sir, is our man.’ And thus George Washington became General Washington.”
    Elizabeth gives me a nudge. “Get on with it,” she says. “I suspect we haven’t much time.”
    “Dr. Franklin,” I say. “We really need your help. I mean, like right
now
, we do. The problem is, this device? If we don’t do something soon, it will be totally useless.”
    “If you have come to me … with any expectation,” Dr. Franklin says in a grave voice, “that I would be able to provide you some sort of practical assistance … such as regenerating this battery you speak of … then I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I can provide you no help. To do what you ask, we would need to repair to my proper living quarters, or to one of my former businesses, where I at least have the necessary means