Rush Revere and the Brave Pilgrims: Time-Travel Adventures with Exceptional Americans (20 page)

The rest of the class agreed and starting talking about their favorite Thanksgiving foods.

I thanked everyone for their comments and said, “Today we’re going to visit the first Thanksgiving. Of course, the Pilgrims
didn’t call it Thanksgiving. Their celebration was more of a harvest festival. Rather than try to explain it to you, I’d rather you experience it with your own eyes. History is a mystery until it is discovered. Are you ready?”

“Are you going to show us another movie? Do we get popcorn this time?” asked Tommy.

“Yes and yes!” I reached for the large grocery sacks and pulled out two large bags of popcorn, including some paper bowls. I also pulled out several packages of red licorice. The class cheered and several boys gave each other high fives.

“This movie is a documentary on the Pilgrims’ first Thanksgiving. Pay attention to what’s different and what’s the same when you think about your own Thanksgiving.” I walked to the back of the class and connected the wireless adapter to the projector. “I’m going to step out of the class to check on Liberty, but I expect you’ll be on your best behavior. Enjoy the show.” I dimmed the lights and discreetly nodded at Tommy and Freedom. As students were crawling over chairs and desks to get to the popcorn and licorice, nobody noticed the three of us slip out the back door. We hurried down the hall and through the doors to outside, where Liberty was waiting for us behind the gnarled oak tree.

“I have your Pilgrim clothes but you’ll have to change when we get there. Liberty, try and get us just inside the forest.”

Tommy and Freedom climbed up onto the saddle and Liberty wasted no time.
“Rush, rush, rushing to history,”
Liberty said.

“The fall of 1621, Plymouth Plantation, the first Thanksgiving,” I said as I ran behind Liberty and jumped through the swirling time portal.

Chapter 10

I
immediately saw a
drastic change in the surrounding forest. Instead of the mostly green leaves of springtime, now the leaves were various shades of vibrant yellow, red, orange, and purple. It was definitely autumn and it felt like the perfect scenery for celebrating the first Thanksgiving.

Freedom and Tommy were experts at jumping off Liberty. They quickly slipped off their shoes and put their Pilgrim clothing on over their modern-day clothes.

“It feels like we were just here,” said Freedom.

“We were,” said Tommy. “Technically, we came here this morning. But about seven months have passed at Plymouth Plantation.”

I pulled out my smartphone, tapped the camera app, and switched it to video mode. I turned the phone toward Liberty and said, “You’re on. The students back in class will be able to see and hear you.”

Liberty cleared his throat and said, “Hello, class. It’s me, Liberty. I can’t wait to get back and visit with all of you. Right now, we’re approaching the place where the Pilgrims first settled in America. It’s called Liberty’s Landing.”

“Liberty!” I whispered loudly.

“What?” Liberty whispered back.

“It’s not called Liberty’s Landing,” I said. “You know that.”

“I was just making sure you were paying attention. Although I do think ‘Liberty’s Landing’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

I rolled my eyes and firmly said, “Get on with it.”

“Okay, okay. We’re approaching Plymouth Plantation. The Pilgrims have been living here for about ten months. And now a word from our sponsor.”

“We don’t have a sponsor,” I said.

“We don’t? Well, we should. The iced-tea factory that you work for should be sponsoring us. Seriously! Or what about Butterball turkeys! Or Stove Top stuffing! Or—”

“Liberty, I think I can take it from here,” I said, exasperated.

“For the record, just because I’m a horse doesn’t mean I don’t have good ideas. Oh, I do. In fact, I have a dream. I have a dream that one day, I won’t be judged by the color of my skin but by the content of my character! Wait a minute. That was brilliant! I could build upon that.”

“It’s brilliant because the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. said it first,” I said.

“Oh,” Liberty said. “It just goes to show how great minds think alike.”

I turned the camera toward the Pilgrim settlement. “Class, this
is Mr. Revere speaking. You can’t see me because, as I mentioned before, the camera I’m using is attached to my coat disguised as a button. We are approaching the festival now!”

“Look at all the Indians,” said Freedom.

Sure enough, I counted about a hundred Indians, double the number of English Pilgrims. I looked for William Bradford or Myles Standish or Elder Brewster but none of them could be found.

“Mr. Revere,” Tommy said, softly. “I see a bunch of kids playing games over by the brook. We’re going to check it out, okay?”

“Have fun,” I said.

Tommy and Freedom ran off toward the brook and I started weaving my way through the guests. Finally, I saw a familiar face. Squanto was walking in my direction and waved as I approached. “You must be Rush Revere!” he said. “Welcome!”

“Thank you,” I said as we shook hands.

“It is an honor to meet you,” Squanto said. “William hoped you would come and bring Tommy and Freedom.”

“We just arrived,” I said as Liberty wandered toward the tables of food. “Tommy and Freedom ran off to see what games are being played by the brook.”

“Smart children,” Squanto said. “William recognized your horse and asked that I come find you. Come, he is with Massasoit. I will introduce you to the leader of the Pokanokets. As you can see, he has brought many of his people to the Harvest Festival.”

I nodded and said, “It looks like he brought his entire village.”

“Before I was captured and taken to Spain. I remember Massasoit had a great army. His people numbered almost twelve thousand, with three thousand warriors.”

“That’s remarkable,” I said.

“Yes, but after years of disease, Massasoit was left with fewer than three hundred warriors.”

I remembered Squanto talking about how many of his people died. I didn’t realize how great a number that really was. I said, “I assume that Massasoit’s visit with William Bradford and the others went well.”

“Yes,” Squanto nodded. “Very well. Massasoit and the people of the
Mayflower
worked out an agreement of peace. They promised to help and protect each other.”

I liked the idea of a peace agreement. I was very glad to see the friendships that had been forged between the Pilgrims and the Pokanokets.

As I followed Squanto through the maze of people, I have to admit, I felt a little nervous and overwhelmed. I’m not usually starstruck, but walking around meeting exceptional people like Squanto, who left such a mark on American history, was just incredible! Not to mention, I was about to meet the man who could command his warriors to capture or kill the Pilgrims like the Indians did with the French sailors who had arrived in previous years. Instead, he chose to befriend them. And from the sound of it, the Pilgrims had helped the Indians as well.

As we approached several outdoor fires, I saw William Bradford standing next to a strong and muscular Native American. His chest was bare but he wore a thick necklace made of white shells. His long black hair was cut short on one side and his face was painted dark red. He had several warriors standing with him. Their faces were also painted, some red, some white, some
yellow, and some black. William presented Massasoit with a pair of knives and some copper chains. In return, Massasoit presented William with some furs and a quiver full of arrows. The two men smiled upon trading the items.

Squanto turned to me and said, “Massasoit does not speak English, but I will translate for you.” As Squanto approached the sachem, Massasoit turned and acknowledged him. The two spoke briefly and Squanto pointed in my direction. Both Massasoit and William turned and upon seeing me, William rushed over to greet me.

“Rush Revere, as always your timing is perfect. I see that Squanto has found you,” William said. He took my arm and led me to Massasoit. “It is my pleasure to introduce you to the Indian king, Massasoit.”

In his native tongue, Squanto translated for William and then introduced me to the king.

I reached out my hand toward Massasoit and he shook it with a strong grip. He looked to be about thirty-five years old and as lean and fit as any professional athlete. He smiled and spoke a language that was complete gibberish. I smiled back and nodded my head.

Squanto said, “He says that you have a strong name, like a rushing river.”

Massasoit spoke again and Squanto said, “He asks if you have brought anything to trade.”

I felt bad that I had nothing to trade with the Indian leader. Or did I? I slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out the peppermint candy that was still there from our trip to Fosters’ Family Diner. I said, “I have nothing to trade but I do have a
small gift.” I handed a piece of candy to Massasoit, who accepted it in his palm. He looked at it closely.

“Peppermint candy,” I said. “You’ll need to take off the wrapper, then place it on your tongue and suck it. It’s sweet like honey.”

Squanto translated my words and Massasoit placed the hard candy on his tongue. His eyebrows raised and he nodded at the warriors next to him. He smiled and spoke briefly as he continued to suck.

Squanto said, “He says your gift is good. He likes it very much.”

Then Massasoit spit the candy into his palm and offered it to the warrior on his right, who took it and placed it on his tongue. One by one, the Indians surrounding Massasoit each took a turn sucking the candy and tasting the peppermint until it made its way back to the Pokanoket leader. Obviously, no one in the seventeenth century was familiar with germs or bacteria and how they can be passed along by the food we eat, the surfaces we touch, and even by the air we breathe. But they knew good candy when they tasted it!

William spoke. “Squanto, please tell Massasoit that our home is his home. And thank him, again, for the five deer that he brought to our celebration.”

As Squanto translated, I turned to see the many deer, ducks, and wild turkeys that turned on wooden spits, roasting over the outdoor fires. Meats and vegetables were thrown into large metal pots similar to Dutch ovens and were simmering over hot coals.

“It smells delicious,” I said.

“Squanto, Massasoit, if you’ll excuse me. I’d like to show Rush Revere our settlement,” said William.

Squanto translated and Massasoit nodded.

As William and I walked away, Squanto stepped alongside me and said, “I have a gift for Freedom. If it is acceptable to you, I would give it to her before she leaves.”

“I think that would be wonderful,” I said.

“Very good,” Squanto nodded. “I will get it to her. Thank you, Rush Revere. You have been a good friend to William.”

“And Squanto has been a good friend to me and our settlement,” said William. “He taught us where to hunt and fish, how to plant and grow the best crops, what herbs to use for medicines, and how to trade for supplies with other tribes. We believe he’s been sent from God as an instrument to help us grow and prosper.”

“You are too kind, William,” said Squanto. “God, as you say, rescued me from slavery in Spain. The Catholic friars, holy men, helped me escape. They risked their lives to free me so that I could return to my native land. I have much to be grateful for. And I choose to show my gratitude by serving my new friend and holy man, William Bradford.”

I could see how Squanto would consider William to be holy. The Puritans prayed many times a day and they never worked on the Sabbath. They tried to show compassion to all men and women and looked for solutions to their problems without violence.

With great admiration I turned to William and said, “Mr. Bradford, I must thank you so much for inviting me. I am beyond honored.”

Map of private land in Plymouth Colony, including the home of William Bradford.

William replied, “Tommy is a good lad. I wasn’t sure if I
would see you at the Common House, but I knew he would find a way to get my letter to you. I wanted you to be here to celebrate with us. We all have so much to be grateful for on this day.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “everyone seems so joyous, far different than a short while ago.”

“It’s true,” said William. “But the real difference came when every family was assigned its own plot of land to work. That was the turning point! They were permitted to market their own crops and products. This had very good success. Men and women worked harder and much more corn was planted than otherwise would have been.”

“The turnaround to success is truly extraordinary,” I said. “And you say that it all happened soon after you stopped sharing the profits that gave every man a common share or equal amount?”

“Yes, at first we really had great expectations and high hopes that all the people would embrace the idea of a commonwealth. But it didn’t work. In fact, it almost ruined us. We learned that it wasn’t actually fair at all.”

“But William is a smart man,” said Squanto. “He gave people their own land. He made people free. No more slaves to a common house. They set up trading posts and exchanged goods with Indians.”

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