Thanksgiving on Thursday - Mary Pope Osborne [3]
“Oh, no!” said Jack. “Let’s go back! We don’t have a plan yet!”
He packed up his book and started away from the tree. Suddenly something tightened around his ankle. A tree branch snapped.
“AHHH!” Jack shouted as he was jerked up into the air.
“Jack!” cried Annie.
The skinny dog barked and jumped around happily.
Jack was hanging a few feet off the ground, with a rope around his ankle. His glasses and hat and bag had fallen to the ground. Jack felt the blood rushing to his head.
“I must have stepped into a hunting trap,” he said in a strangled voice.
“I’ll free you,” Annie said. She tried to reach the rope, but it was too high.
Jack heard voices over the wild barking of the dog. A blur of people gathered around him and Annie.
“Oh, mercy!” a woman cried.
“We have caught a boy!” a man said.
The dog licked Jack’s face.
“Help,” said Jack.
A burly man shooed the dog away, then grabbed Jack. Another cut the rope with a knife. Then they gently lowered Jack to the ground.
Jack sat in the leaves, feeling dizzy. He took the rope off his foot and rubbed his ankle.
“Here,” said Annie, handing Jack his glasses, hat, and bag.
He put them all on and stood up. Now he could see. About forty or fifty Pilgrims—men, women, and lots of children—stared at him and Annie. Some of the children were laughing.
The girls were dressed just like the women. The boys were dressed just like the men.
One person, though, looked different from everyone else in the crowd. His skin was brown. A deer skin hung over his shoulder. His black hair was braided and had a feather in it.
Is that Squanto? Jack wondered. The Wampanoag Indian who helped out the Pilgrims?
Two Pilgrim men stepped forward. One had a smile on his face. The other was frowning.
“Good day!” the friendly-looking man said. “Who art thou?”
“I’m Annie,” said Annie. “This is my brother, Jack. We come in peace.”
“Welcome to Plymouth Colony,” said the man. “I am Governor Bradford. This is Captain Standish.”
Captain Standish kept frowning. He carried a long gun over his shoulder.
“Oh, wow!” said Annie.
“Wow?” said Captain Standish.
“Wow?” whispered others, as if they didn’t understand.
“I’ve just heard a lot about you,” said Annie. She looked around. “Is Priscilla here?”
“Shhh!” whispered Jack.
“I am Priscilla,” said a young woman. She looked about seventeen or eighteen. Her face looked weary, and her eyes were sad.
“Hi,” said Annie shyly. “I was you.”
“Annie,” warned Jack.
“Thou was me?” Priscilla asked. She sounded puzzled.
“Never mind my sister,” said Jack. “She’s nuts.”
“Nuts?” repeated Priscilla.
“Nuts?” whispered others.
“Oh, brother,” said Jack, with a nervous laugh.
“Oh, brother?” repeated Priscilla.
Annie giggled.
“Um. Never mind,” said Jack. “That’s just how we say things at home.”
“And where is thy home?” Captain Standish asked. He didn’t sound as friendly as Governor Bradford or Priscilla.
“Um, we live in a village up north,” said Jack. “Our parents sent us here to, uh”—he remembered something from their research book—“to learn how to grow corn.”
“But how and when did your family come to America?” the captain asked.
Jack was worried. Now that he had started making up a story, he couldn’t back out. Luckily, he remembered something else from their book.
“We sailed to America with Captain John Smith,” he said, “when he was exploring the coast. Annie and I were babies then.”
“Ah, indeed?” said Governor Bradford.
Jack nodded. “Indeed,” he said.
“I believe Squanto knew Captain John Smith when he was in Plymouth,” said Captain Standish. “Perhaps he remembers thee.”
Everyone in the crowd turned to the man with the braid.
Oh, no! thought Jack. He knew Squanto wouldn’t remember them.
“These children say they sailed with Captain John Smith,” Governor Bradford said to Squanto. “Does thou remember two wee babes named Jack and Annie?”
Squanto moved closer to Jack and Annie. He looked carefully at their faces. Jack held his breath. His heart pounded.
Squanto turned to the governor.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I remember.”
Annie grinned. “Good day,