Thanksgiving on Thursday - Mary Pope Osborne [2]
“We gather at a feast,” she said. She pointed to the cover. “I wish we could go there.”
“Hold on,” said Jack. “What kind of feast? Where and when?”
But the wind had started to blow.
The tree house started to spin.
It spun faster and faster.
Then everything was still.
Absolutely still.
Jack opened his eyes. Bright, golden sunlight poured into the tree house. The air felt crisp and cool.
Annie was wearing a long dress, a white cap, and an apron.
Jack wore a jacket with a frilly collar. He wore short pants, long socks, leather shoes, and a hat. His backpack was now a leather bag.
“I like your hat,” said Annie. “It’s funny.”
“Yours, too,” said Jack.
“You look like a Pilgrim,” said Annie.
“So do you,” said Jack. “Oh, man. I bet we’re in the time of the Pilgrims!”
He and Annie scrambled to the window.
The tree house had landed in a tall oak near the edge of a forest. Red and yellow leaves rattled in the cool breeze. Past the forest was a small village and past the village was the ocean.
“It looks like where the Pilgrims lived,” said Jack. “We studied it in school.”
He opened the research book and found a picture of the village by the sea. He read aloud:
In 1620, a group of 102 passengers sailed from England to America on a ship called the Mayflower. Many of the people on board wanted freedom of religion. They wanted to worship God in their own way—not the way the king of England made them. Others wanted to find a new life in a new land. Today, we call all the people who sailed on the Mayflower Pilgrims.
“Yes!” said Annie.
Jack read on:
The Pilgrims wanted to settle near New York. But a storm blew their ship north. They landed in a bay on the coast of what is now Massachusetts. Six years before, Captain John Smith had explored the coast. He had named the bay Plymouth.
“Plymouth?” said Annie. “That’s where the first Thanksgiving was!”
“Oh, man … ” Jack smiled. “So that’s the feast.”
“Wow,” said Annie. “My class put on a play about the first Thanksgiving.”
“Mine, too,” said Jack.
“I played Priscilla,” said Annie.
“I played a turkey,” said Jack.
“Now we’ll get to meet the real Priscilla!” said Annie. “And Squanto! And Governor Bradford and Miles Standish! Come on!”
She started down the ladder.
“Wait. What will we say?” asked Jack.
“We’ll just tell them hi and stuff,” said Annie.
“Are you nuts?” said Jack. He put the book into his bag. “They won’t understand who we are! We need a plan.”
He slung the bag over his shoulder and hurried down the ladder after Annie.
“Listen, we need—” Jack started.
“I know, a plan,” said Annie. “But first let’s get closer to the village and just watch.”
“Okay,” said Jack, “but we can’t let anyone see us. We have to be careful and quiet.”
He and Annie started walking carefully through the woods. But they did not walk quietly. The autumn leaves crunched and crackled under their leather shoes.
“Shh!” said Jack.
“I can’t help it,” said Annie. “You’re doing it, too!”
“Then we have to stop,” said Jack. “Let’s get behind that tree and watch from there.”
They crunched over to a tree at the edge of the woods. In the distance was a row of small log houses with steep thatched roofs.
Jack pulled out the book. He found the part about the village. Then he pushed his glasses up and read to himself:
The Pilgrims brought chickens, geese, goats, and sheep from England. They brought seeds to plant, and they knew how to make traps to catch wild animals for food. But they could not have survived without the help of a Wampanoag (wom-puh-NO-ag) Indian named Squanto. Squanto taught them how to grow corn.
“Hi, you,” Annie whispered. Jack looked up.
Annie was talking to a skinny yellow dog. The dog was sniffing a tree near them.
“Don’t let him see us,” Jack whispered.
“Why?” said Annie.
The dog looked at them and barked.
“That’s why!” said Jack.
The skinny dog barked again and again.
Two Pilgrim men ran from the other side of the houses. Then more Pilgrims appeared. They all looked in the direction of the barking dog.