The Virginia Mysteries Collection: Books 1-3

by Steven K. Smith

  CONTENTS

  1. The Field Trip

  2. The Graveyard

  3. The Church

  4. The Plan

  5. The Reenactment

  6. The Letter

  7. The Phone Call

  8. The Declaration

  9. The Drive

  10. The Wythe House

  11. The Gathering

  12. The Hunt

  13. The Solar Microscope

  14. The Basement

  15. The Stable

  16. The Crate

  17. The Surprise

  ONE

  The Field Trip

  The line inched forward one millimeter at a time. Sam’s stomach growled so loudly he thought everyone around him could hear it.

  “What’s taking so long?” he moaned.

  He peered over the counter at the lunch ladies. With robot-like efficiency, they refilled shiny metal containers with stalks of green broccoli and a few hundred over-processed chicken nuggets. It looked kind of gross, but at this point Sam was so hungry, he’d eat just about anything.

  Grrrowwllll his stomach cried out again.

  He glanced up the line at Caitlin Murphy to see if she noticed. She had a smirk on her face like she knew something, but that was how she always looked, so he couldn’t tell if it was because of him.

  “Is that organic broccoli?” Caitlin asked one of the lunch ladies through a cloud of steam rising into the air.

  Good grief.

  Caitlin was always acting like she was too good for everything and smarter than everybody.

  The lunch lady ignored her and turned to load more of what the school tried to pass off as food. Sam wasn’t so sure it was. He suspected they mixed up dirt and sawdust in the kitchen and pretended it was nutritious. At least that’s how it tasted most of the time.

  “Let’s move, Jackson!”

  Sam felt a tray jab him in the back and looked over his shoulder. Billy Maxwell was about to run him over. The lunch line was moving again, and the hungry third graders were getting restless. Perhaps there would be a revolt.

  Sam crept forward and held his tray out for the lunch lady to fill his plate. One of the steaming broccoli spears spilled off his tray and onto the floor. It rolled smack onto Caitlin’s shoe.

  “Eww!” she shrieked. “Sam Jackson, get your food off of me!”

  “Sorry,” said Sam. He reached down to grab the broccoli, but she kicked it across the floor before he could do anything.

  “It’s organic now, Caitlin!” laughed Billy.

  Sam picked up a milk carton from the rack at the end of the line and headed over to his class’s third grade table. Lunch was already more than halfway over. His friends were almost finished with their lunches they’d brought from home. Sam sat at the end of the table and scarfed his food down.

  The kids were raising a racket. The cafeteria grew louder and louder. Maybe it was the bad food. Or the weather. Ever since last week when the late February days were unseasonably warm, everyone seemed to be acting nuts. Sam’s mom said the weather was giving all the kids “spring fever,” whatever that was. Maybe if Sam went to the nurse she would give him some real food.

  As Sam finished off his second chicken nugget, a voice blasted from the cafeteria PA system. “Third grade! QUIET DOWN!”

  It was Ms. Saltwater, the cafeteria monitor. She ruled the cafeteria with an iron fist, the microphone being her weapon of choice.

  “It is entirely too LOUD in here, students!”

  Since she talked with the microphone so close to her mouth, it sounded more like “RAH RAH RAHHH!”

  Sam thought the mic might actually be in her mouth. Maybe she had swallowed it and sounded like that even when she was away from school. He shuddered just thinking about running into Ms. Saltwater in town. Her name was actually Ms. Salwalter, but everyone called her ‘Saltwater’ because she was so mean.

  Like a shark.

  Maybe she’d eaten too many of the chicken nuggets – or a kid.

  The third grade did not quiet down enough to please Ms. Saltwater. Everyone had to finish their lunch period with their heads down on the tables while she walked up and down the aisles like a prison guard. She swung the microphone back and forth in her hands like one of those batons used for beating people.

  Sam peeked up from his arms once when she walked by and he swore she was growling. Brandon was making faces at him from across the table until Ms. Saltwater came up behind him, smacking her hand down on the lunch table.

  Bang!

  “QUIET!” she yelled.

  Yikes.

  Eventually the bell rang. Much to Ms. Saltwater’s disappointment, the students were released to their classrooms. When Sam’s class got back to their desks, his teacher, Mrs. Haperwink, had written something on the whiteboard in big block letters.

  “RICHMOND’S HISTORY.”

  Before she could begin speaking, a hand went up in the back of the room. It was Billy Maxwell.

  “Yes, Billy, what is it? I haven’t even asked a question yet.”

  “Are we all going to die?” he shouted.

  Everyone burst out laughing.

  Billy gave a high five to Brandon Perth who was sitting next to him like they’d just scored a goal.

  “Billy, what on earth are you talking about?” Mrs. Haperwink sighed.

  “Well, the board says ‘Richmond’s History,’ so I figured we’ll all be goners since we live in Richmond!”

  More laughter ensued. Brandon clutched his stomach and acted like he was going to roll out of his seat. Mrs. Haperwink, whom everyone but Caitlin called ‘Mrs. H,’ looked exasperated. She glanced up at the clock like she was counting the minutes left until summer vacation.

  In the seat next to Sam, Caitlin raised her hand until Mrs. H gave her a weary nod. “Mrs. Haperwink, are we going to talk about our field trip now? I’ve been reading about Richmond’s history online and in the book I checked out of the library. I’m very excited to learn more about it on our trip.”

  “Thank you, Caitlin, for being so interested in what we’re learning,” beamed Mrs. H.

  Caitlin turned around and gave Billy a look. It was the same one that she’d given Sam in the lunch line.

  “Tomorrow,” the teacher continued, “we will be visiting St. John’s Church in the historic Church Hill section of Richmond. Can anyone tell me what is so special about Church Hill?”

  “There’s a church there?” shouted Tommy Banks to a shower of chuckles from the class.

  Caitlin’s hand shot up once again. Thankfully Mrs. H ignored it this time. Sam didn’t know if he could bear to hear her superior voice give yet another snotty answer today. He tried to think about the question. For some reason St. John’s Church sounded very familiar to him, but he couldn’t remember why.

  “I’ll give you a hint, boys and girls. It has to do with a very famous speech given around the time of the American Revolution.”

  Sam’s thoughts came together all at once. That’s it! He raised his hand.

  “Sam, do you know the answer?” Mrs. H asked, sounding a bit surprised. Sam and his family had just moved to Virginia the previous summer. As a result, he hadn’t learned as much about the local history and places as the rest of the class.

  Caitlin squirmed in her seat. She raised her hand higher, not wanting to miss out on the opportunity to show off more of her knowledge.

  Sam cleared his throat. “That’s where Patrick Henry gave his speech about liberty.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Caitlin lower her hand and sink into her seat like a deflated balloon. “He said, ‘Give me liberty or give me death!’”

  “See – death! We’re all going to die!” Billy yelled again. “We’re doomed!” The class busted out laughing again.

  “Out in the hallway, Billy!” Mrs. H ordered. “NOW!”

  Billy sauntered out of the room with his head held high like he had won the jackpot. Caitlin stuck her tongue out at him as he walked by her desk. Sam just shook his h
ead.

  Billy was funny sometimes, but he always went too far. It was just like Sam’s older brother, Derek, who was almost eleven and down the hall in fourth grade. He always tried to be a comedian and thought he was God’s gift to the world.

  Mrs. H turned back to Sam. “That’s correct, Sam. Very impressive! Patrick Henry delivered a passionate plea for Virginia to provide troops for the American Revolution against England. It took place during the Second Virginia Convention in 1775. They met in St. John’s Church, because at the time it was the only building in Richmond big enough to hold everyone.

  “Tomorrow we will take buses to the church, and there may even be a short reenactment of that famous speech. I’d like everyone to read the chapter in your textbook about the revolution, beginning on page 249. To make our trip more meaningful, you’ll want to know about several other important people and events that started the revolution.”

  Sam thought back to why he remembered Patrick Henry. Right after his family moved to Virginia from up north last summer, he and Derek made an amazing discovery. They found an old coin collection that had been stolen from the Virginia museum sixty years earlier. Some of the rarest and most valuable coins were the 1877 Indian Head cents. Since they had a picture of Lady Liberty wearing a feather headdress, it had reminded their mom of Patrick Henry’s famous liberty speech given nearby.

  Maybe some history does come in handy, decided Sam, as Mrs. H went over the details of the trip. Most of the history they learned in school seemed so boring, but it might be pretty cool to see the actual place where Patrick Henry gave his speech.

  ***

  As they got off the bus that afternoon, Sam told Derek about the plans for his class trip the next day.

  “No way!” said his brother. “That sounds cool. I wonder if Patrick Henry’s ghost haunts the place.”

  “I don’t think he was buried there, Derek. It’s just where he gave the speech.”

  “Well, keep a look out for his ghost just in case. It’s an old church, and you know what they have at old churches.”

  Derek looked at Sam with a spooky grin.

  “What? What do they have at old churches?” Sam couldn’t help asking.

  Derek leaned into Sam’s face, opening his eyes wide. “Graveyards,” he whispered, followed by a loud “Boo!”

  Sam jumped and Derek ran down the driveway, laughing like a maniac all the way to their house where Mom was waiting on the porch.

  Even though Sam knew Derek was just messing with him, he didn’t like talking about ghosts or graveyards. They scared him. He tried to think about Patrick Henry giving his speech and not about whether he was now a ghost. He was thankful the field trip was during the daytime. Nothing creepy could happen then.

  TWO

  The Graveyard

  The two yellow school buses chugged up the steep hill, coming to an idle next to the curb. Sam and the rest of his class filed out onto the sidewalk and looked around.

  A black wrought-iron fence lined both corners of the block like the edges of a triangle. The fence had sharp decorative points along the top that looked like spears. The kind that always seemed to be waiting to impale someone. Sam imagined trying to climb the iron bars and accidentally slipping and falling onto one of the points and watching his guts spill out. That wouldn’t be good.

  Below the fence were rows of crusty red bricks. Like everything else he could see, they looked extremely old. That makes sense, thought Sam, since it was back in the 1700s when Patrick Henry spoke here. He peered through the iron bars and up the hill. A stately white steeple poked up from behind a tree. That must be St. John’s Church. He eyed the grounds around the church and gulped. They were littered with faded, crooked headstones and tall gray concrete and marble monuments.

  It was a cemetery.

  “Great,” muttered Sam.

  “Hey, Jackson!” Billy walked up behind Sam. “You know why they have this fence around the graveyard?”

  “No, why?”

  “Because people are dying to get in! Hahaha!” laughed Billy.

  Sam rolled his eyes.

  “Get it, they’re dying to get in! It’s a cemetery!”

  “Yeah, I get it. That’s hilarious,” Sam said in a voice that made it clear he didn’t think it was very hilarious.

  Mrs. H marched the kids up the steps to the cemetery entrance. They stood in the groups of threes that she had constructed. Somehow Sam had been stuck with both Billy and Caitlin. Definitely not a match made in heaven, as his mom would say. He wasn’t sure what was the worst – Billy’s jokes, Caitlin’s snobbery, or the cemetery. He tried not to look at the tombstones in the grass all around him, but he couldn’t help it. Caitlin was acting like a tour guide and kept blabbing about every detail that they passed.

  “Look, this person was born in 1723. This one in 1747. Wow – 1711!”

  “We get it,” said Sam, trying to keep his eyes on the sidewalk. “They’re old.”

  “Hey, Caitlin, ya know why they have fences around graveyards?”

  “Shut up, Billy,” she retorted and walked around to the back of another big stone monument.

  Before Billy could give a comeback, Caitlin shouted to them. “Look at this one, he was a signer of the Declaration of Independence. That is so amazing!”

  “What would be amazing,” said Billy, “is if Mrs. H gave Sam and me our independence and moved you out of our group, Caitlin.”

  This was going to be a long day.

  Sam walked up to the gravestone to see what Caitlin was carrying on about. He was still getting used to seeing so many historical things all over the place in Virginia. It was pretty cool that the tombstones were so ancient. Not ancient ancient, like the pyramids in Egypt or the Coliseum in Rome. But they were ancient for America.

  “George Wythe,” Sam read on the stone. He pronounced the last name with a long ‘Y’ like ‘eye.’ “Did he really sign the Declaration of Independence?”

  Caitlin wriggled her nose. “Yes, he did. And his name is pronounced ‘with,’ Sam. Like, I can’t believe that I have to be with Billy all day on this field trip.”

  It wasn’t enough that Caitlin knew who this guy was. Of course she had to know how to pronounce his name correctly as well. Caitlin would take any chance she could to act smart.

  Sam didn’t want to encourage her, but he couldn’t help being curious. “Okay, but didn’t our book say that Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence?”

  Caitlin gave him another look like she couldn’t believe he didn’t already know the answer. “Thomas Jefferson wrote it, but all the members of the Continental Congress signed it. Including George W-y-the,” she explained, dragging out Wythe’s last name. “It rhymes with Smith.”

  Mrs. H called all the groups over to the church entrance. A tour guide wearing funny-looking clothes from colonial times stepped in front of them. Sam looked him over and was immediately grateful not to have lived back then.

  The man had navy blue pants that just barely covered his knees with tall white socks that reminded Sam of a baseball uniform. He wore a yellow vest and a white shirt underneath. It was tied tightly around his neck and had strange ruffly cuffs on his wrists. On top he wore a dark blue coat with lots of gold buttons. Judging by the way he was sweating, the outfit must have been really hot.

  The tour guide wore a white wig over his real hair with a ponytail down the back tied in a big bow. It reminded Sam of pictures he’d seen of George Washington, but he’d never thought about George Washington looking so weird.

  The oddly dressed tour guide led them through the doors of the old church. The first thing Sam noticed were rows and rows of dark wooden benches. Each bench had a high back separating it from the one behind it. Halfway down the bench was a divider, sectioning them like booths at a restaurant without any tables in the middle. On the end of each row there was a door. When it was shut, the pew looked like a rectangular box.

  Sam imagined sitting on the benches for church on Su
nday. There weren’t any seat cushions, and the backs were angled straight up. He couldn’t decide which looked more uncomfortable – the seats or the clothes. Dealing with both at the same time must have been horrible!

  The tour guide launched into the full history of St. John’s Church, starting with its construction way back in 1741. The class followed him through the aisles to the spot where historians believed Patrick Henry stood when he delivered his ‘Give me liberty or give me death’ speech. The guide rambled on for what seemed like an hour about why the speech was so important.

  Sam stopped listening to the tour guide somewhere around his description of the Second Continental Congress. He was sure it was all very important, but he really needed to use the bathroom. The ride on the bus hadn’t been that long, but Billy had brought a giant-sized bottle of sports drink. Unfortunately, Sam had drunk a little too much. There was something about that lemon-lime flavor that made him have to pee like a racehorse.

  Sam found his way over to Mrs. H in the back of the group. When he told her his dilemma, she pointed at the side door and whispered for him to come straight back.

  Sam found a sign pointing to the left that said ‘Restrooms’ and headed in that direction. He went through a side door and found himself back outside again. A hodgepodge of gravestones and outbuildings were set on a slope around the church. The black impaling fence surrounded him in all directions.

  One building had a sign that read Gift Shop. Like everything else, it was made of bricks and dripped of oldness. It had a few signs and shirts for sale in the window. A couple of them said, ‘If this be treason, make the most of it – Patrick Henry 1765.’ Sam wasn’t sure what that meant. He’d have to ask Mrs. H later.

  Patrick Henry seemed to be kind of a loudmouth.

  He reminded Sam of Caitlin.

  Sam walked down the slope and around the corner of the church. He saw a large metal door to what looked like the basement. It was slightly ajar with an unlocked padlock hanging from the doorframe. He hoped this was the way to the bathroom. It didn’t really look like it, but the sign had pointed this way and he didn’t see anything else.