Thanksgiving on Thursday - Mary Pope Osborne [7]
“Make haste or we will miss it!” said Priscilla.
“Miss what?” asked Annie.
“Captain Standish is about to lead the men and boys,” said Priscilla. “They will exercise their arms.”
Why do they exercise their arms? Jack wondered. Will they expect me to join in?
As he hurried after Priscilla toward the crowd, Jack practiced. He stretched his arms out wide. He made circles in the air. Then he flapped his arms up and down.
Priscilla caught sight of him.
“What art thou doing, Jack?” she asked.
“Exercising my arms,” he said.
Priscilla smiled. Then she started to laugh. She laughed and laughed.
So did Jack, but he wasn’t sure why.
A loud BANG! came from the field.
Jack jumped. He stopped laughing.
A puff of smoke rose into the air. As the crowd parted, Jack saw the Pilgrim men and boys proudly holding up their long guns.
“What just happened?” said Annie.
“The men fired their muskets,” said Priscilla. “On special occasions they like to show off their arms.”
Oh! thought Jack. Now I get it! The long guns are muskets, which are also called arms. So “exercising arms” means firing muskets!
Jack blushed. Priscilla must think I’m an idiot, he thought.
But she just smiled at him fondly.
“I thank thee for making me laugh, Jack,” she said. “I have not laughed hard in a long time.”
Jack shrugged, as if he had meant to make her laugh.
“It is time now to serve our feast,” said Priscilla. “I must help with the bread.”
“What can we do?” asked Jack.
“Return to my home,” said Priscilla, “take the turkey off the spit, put it on a platter, and bring it to a table.”
“Oh, great, we get to help with the turkey!” said Annie. “I always help with the turkey at home.”
“Good,” said Priscilla. “May thou feel my home is thy home today.”
Jack was excited, too. He and Annie were about to serve the first turkey at the first Thanksgiving! They ran back to the smoky house and rushed inside.
“Where’s the platter?” said Jack, looking around. He saw a flat wooden block. “That must be it.”
Annie picked up the wooden platter. “How do we get the turkey on it?” she asked.
They moved close to the fire and stared at the turkey roasting on the iron rod.
“That must be the spit,” said Jack. The spit sat on iron legs. It had a handle.
Jack pushed his glasses into place. “I’ll lift the spit,” he said. “Then we’ll push the turkey onto the platter.”
“Be careful,” said Annie.
Jack reached out and wrapped his fingers around the handle of the iron spit.
“OWW!” he shouted. The handle was super hot! He yanked his hand away and knocked the spit off its legs.
The turkey fell into the fire. The grease from the turkey sputtered and popped. The turkey burst into flame! The fire roared!
“AHH!” yelped Jack and Annie together. They jumped back from the hearth.
Jack grabbed the water pot on the floor. He threw the water into the fire. The fire sizzled and smoke billowed up. When the smoke cleared, the fire was out.
But the turkey was completely black.
Jack buried his face in his hands.
“I don’t believe it,” he said. “I just burned up the Pilgrims’ turkey!”
“Stay calm,” said Annie. “I’ll get Priscilla.”
“No, don’t tell Priscilla,” moaned Jack.
“We have to tell Priscilla,” said Annie.
She hurried out of the house.
Jack lifted his head and stared at the burned turkey.
“Oh, man,” he whispered unhappily. The Pilgrims had worked so hard to get their food. They had had such a terrible winter—especially Priscilla. And now he had ruined their first Thanksgiving!
The door opened. Annie pulled Priscilla over to the hearth.
“See!” said Annie. “The turkey fell into the fire! It burned up!”
“I did it,” Jack confessed.
Priscilla just stared at the burned turkey in the wet, messy hearth. Then she looked at Jack. He looked away from her.
“Ah, Jack,” Priscilla said softly. “Thou looks sad.”
He nodded.
“I ruined everything,” he mumbled.
“No, thou did not,” said Priscilla. She reached out her hand. “Come.”
Priscilla led Jack and Annie out into the bright autumn light.
“Look,” she said.
Jack saw Pilgrim women and kids walking to the tables. They all