Surprise at Yorktown

by Marianne Hering

  Praise for The Imagination Station® books

  I got all the Imagination Station books for Christmas and I just read Surprise at Yorktown. I like looking at the pictures while I read to see what time they are in and what they are wearing. My three favorites so far are Secret of the Prince’s Tomb, Surprise at Yorktown, and Challenge on the Hill of Fire.

  —Katie, age 8, Arbela, Missouri

  Surprise at Yorktown is another great Adventures in Odyssey story for kids to enjoy. It sweeps you into the action and keeps you reading to find out who Beth and Patrick can trust in dangerous times.

  —Beth M., Elgin (IL) Children’s Literature Examiner

  After you start this book, you don’t want to set it down. The author keeps the action fast-paced and moving, and there isn’t really a slow spot unless something mysterious is going on. It’s a cool book.

  —Nathan, age 17, longtime-AIO-fan, Elgin, Illinois

  I like the part where cannons are shooting. Why don’t they make a movie of this? It would be awesome!

  —Zachary, age 9, Forest City, North Carolina

  A wonderful series of books weaving a bit of history, life skills, and biblical principles into encouraging and entertaining stories that are family friendly.

  —Terri F., children’s author and mom, Nashville, Ind.

  Surprise at Yorktown is a wonderful mix of history, adventure, and fun! I highly recommend it for teaching Christian values as well. I look forward to reading other books in the series!

  —Rona S., children’s writer, Philadelphia, Penn.

  Surprise at Yorktown was exciting and fun to read. I liked seeing what it might have been like to live during the American Revolution.

  —Will, age 8, Lexington, Kentucky

  Surprise at Yorktown © 2014 Focus on the Family

  ISBN: 978-1-58997-776-1

  A Focus on the Family book published by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188.

  Focus on the Family and Adventures in Odyssey, and the accompanying logos and designs, are federally registered trademarks, and The Imagination Station is a federally registered trademark of Focus on the Family, 8605 Explorer Drive, Colorado Springs, CO 80920.

  TYNDALE and Tyndale’s quill logo are registered trademarks of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of Focus on the Family.

  With the exception of known historical figures, all characters are the product of the authors’ imaginations.

  Cover design by Michael Heath | Magnus Creative

  For Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data for this title, visit http://www.loc.gov.

  ISBN 978-1-62405-223-1 (ePub); ISBN 978-1-62405-224-8 (Kindle); ISBN 978-1-62405-222-4 (Apple)

  Build: 2014-09-17 16:40:02

  To Josiah,

  Ben’s youngest brother-in-law of awesomeness. May God be with you as you go through life’s “Adventures.” Maybe some New Year’s Eve I’ll beat you at Pit. (Watch out for the Bear!)

  —NIS

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: The Workshop

  Chapter 2: Laundry Day

  Chapter 3: The Dark Cave

  Chapter 4: Redcoats

  Chapter 5: Working for King George

  Chapter 6: A Miracle

  Chapter 7: Armistead

  Chapter 8: Lies?

  Chapter 9: The French

  Chapter 10: Skunked

  Chapter 11: Explosion!

  Chapter 12: The Trench

  Chapter 13: Deserters

  Chapter 14: Blindfolded

  Chapter 15: Your Excellency

  Chapter 16: Whit’s End

  Secret Word Puzzle

  Prologue

  Whit’s End is an old house in the town of Odyssey. It has an ice-cream shop on the main floor. And it has a workshop downstairs.

  Mr. Whittaker owns Whit’s End. He is kind but also mysterious. He often works at the ice-cream shop. He also likes to invent things in his workshop. One of his favorite inventions is the Imagination Station.

  The Imagination Station lets kids travel to different places in history. They get to meet people from the past. It’s a lot like a time machine.

  Cousins Patrick and Beth have traveled to many exciting places in the Imagination Station. Their last adventures took them back to the American Revolution.

  First they met Paul Revere and saw the start of the Revolutionary War. Next Patrick and Beth landed on a large warship. They met a young American patriot named James Forten. He risked his life to fight at sea for his country.

  The cousins came back to Whit’s End. Still, Patrick was disappointed. They had gone to the American Revolution twice. But they never met George Washington. So Whit promised to send them on another adventure.

  Patrick and Beth could hardly wait to go!

  But they had no idea what they were going to face.

  The Workshop

  Beth and Patrick raced each other to Whit’s End. They hurried to the basement.

  The Imagination Station sat in the center of the vast workroom. The machine looked like the front part of a helicopter. The doors on each side stood open.

  The cousins rushed to get inside the Imagination Station.

  “I get to push the red button,” Patrick cried.

  “Not if I get there first,” Beth said. She jumped over a broken TV to move ahead of Patrick.

  “Whoa!” Mr. Whitaker said. He held up his hand to signal them to stop.

  The cousins slowed down.

  “But we’re ready to go,” Patrick said.

  Mr. Whittaker stood next to his workbench. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked.

  Patrick thought a minute. “Please?” he said.

  Mr. Whittaker chuckled. “Saying ‘please’ is a good thing,” he told them. “But that isn’t what I meant.”

  “Our gifts!” Beth said.

  “That’s right,” Whit said. Gifts is the word they used for the things Whit gave them for their adventures. The gifts helped the cousins in times of need.

  Whit’s workbench was cluttered with all kinds of things. Beth saw a hammer and several screwdrivers. Bits of wire and tiny springs were scattered all over.

  Whit lifted up a white cloth from the workbench. Underneath was a long, thin object.

  Beth gasped with delight. “Is that a fife?” she asked.

  “Yes, it is,” Whit said. He placed the fife in Beth’s hands.

  “I have a recorder at home,” Beth said. “I learned to play ‘Yankee Doodle’ on it.”

  Patrick shook his head and said, “What’s the difference between a fife and a recorder? They look the same to me.”

  “The fife is a simple wood flute,” Mr. Whittaker said. “It’s held sideways. The recorder is held longways. And it has a full mouthpiece.”

  “Why did the Continental army use a fife for marching?” Beth asked.

  “The fife was easy to carry and use,” Mr. Whittaker said.

  Beth held the fife to her lips. She blew across the mouth hole. A soft, high whistle came out. She moved her fingers across the finger holes and slowly played “Yankee Doodle.”

  “Very good,” Whit said.

  Whit handed the white cloth to Patrick.

  “What’s this?” Patrick asked.

  “It’s a handkerchief,” Whit said. “People used these before paper tissues were invented.”

  “You mean to blow their noses in?” Patrick asked, wrinkling his nose. “Eww. Gross.” He carefully l
ifted the handkerchief between his thumb and pointer finger.

  “Don’t worry,” Whit said with a chuckle. “It’s clean.”

  Beth thought Patrick’s handkerchief was an unusual gift. She wondered why she had been given a fife. She wanted to ask but knew she would find out in time.

  “Can we go?” Patrick asked.

  “May we?” Beth said, correcting her cousin.

  Beth knew Patrick wanted to meet George Washington. She did too.

  Whit nodded. “The program is ready,” he said. “Just push the red button.”

  Beth sat down in the Imagination Station again. Patrick sat next to her. The doors slid closed with a soft swoosh.

  Beth held one hand over the large red button on the dashboard. She felt a familiar thrill bubbling up inside. “May I?” Beth asked Patrick.

  “Yes, you can,” Patrick said.

  Beth laughed. Then she punched the red button.

  The machine rumbled and shook.

  Beth’s seat jiggled underneath her. She closed her eyes. She felt like Alice in Wonderland. She was falling down, down, down a deep, dark hole.

  The machine jerked. The rumble grew louder.

  The Imagination Station whirled.

  Suddenly, everything went black.

  Laundry Day

  A cool breeze swept over Patrick. He opened his eyes. He and Beth were high up in a tree. Patrick grabbed a branch to keep from falling.

  Beth sat on a large limb and held tight to a branch above her head. The tree’s red-and-orange leaves told Patrick it was fall.

  The hum of the Imagination Station faded.

  Patrick swung his legs back and forth. He was wearing a white shirt under a blue jacket. It had two rows of shiny buttons. His pants looked like long shorts. Long stockings led down to brown leather shoes.

  Patrick stuffed the white handkerchief inside his jacket pocket. Then he reached up to touch his hat. It was made of felt and shaped like a triangle.

  Patrick looked at Beth.

  She wore a long red dress. It had white ruffles around the sleeves. A long white apron covered the front of her dress. Beth slipped her fife into the apron’s large pocket.

  “We’re wearing the same clothes we wore in our last two adventures,” Patrick said.

  Beth nodded.

  A boom suddenly filled the silence.

  The cousins rocked in the tree.

  “A cannon!” Patrick cried.

  “And it isn’t very far away,” Beth said as she peered through the leaves.

  Patrick smelled gunpowder. He pushed a branch away from his face and peeked out. White clouds mingled with wisps of gray smoke. He looked beyond the nearby woods. Cannons and tents spread across a grassy field.

  “We’re near a battlefield,” Patrick said. “But which one?”

  A wide river glinted in the sun beyond the field. Boats with tall sails floated on the water.

  Beth asked, “Can you tell if the ships are British or American?”

  Patrick squinted his eyes. He hoped to see the flags. But the ships were too far away.

  “What are you doing up there?” a girl’s voice asked from below them.

  Patrick looked down.

  A teen girl stood looking up at them. She wore a ruffled white cap. A blonde curl had slipped out and hung down her face. She glared at the cousins with her hands on her hips.

  The girl stamped her foot. “Come down from there!” she said.

  Patrick looked at Beth. She shrugged.

  Patrick scrambled down through the branches. He jumped from the last branch to the ground. He reached up to help his cousin.

  Beth began to climb down slowly. She was careful to keep her dress from snagging on a branch.

  Patrick turned to face the girl. “Here we are,” he said.

  The girl was wearing a long brown dress. The front of it was white. The bottom half of her sleeves were white too. A long white apron was tied around her waist.

  “Who are you?” the girl asked.

  “My name is Patrick. And this is my cousin Beth,” Patrick said.

  “My name is Sally,” the girl said. She studied the cousins for a minute. Then she curtsied. “Were you sent from the town?”

  “We’re from a town,” Patrick said. He knew better than to try to explain about Whit’s End or the Imagination Station.

  “Then you may help me deliver the laundry,” Sally said.

  “Laundry?” Beth asked.

  “Yes,” Sally said. “My mother and I take care of the general’s laundry. All the clean clothes and linens need to be carried to his headquarters.”

  Sally motioned toward nearby bushes. Several white shirts and sheets were spread out over the shrubs to dry.

  The word general gave Patrick hope that he might finally meet George Washington. “We’ll be glad to help you,” Patrick said. “Won’t we, Beth?”

  “Sure,” Beth said, giving Patrick a knowing glance. Her look told Patrick she was thinking the same thing he was.

  Sally smiled and nodded. She led the cousins to the bushes and showed them how to gather the laundry in large white sheets. They tied the sheet corners to form three big bundles.

  Patrick lifted up his bundle and hefted it over his shoulder. He could smell the laundry’s sun-warmed freshness.

  Sally and Beth carried their loads in front of them.

  Patrick followed the girls through the woods. They were talking, but Patrick wasn’t listening. His mind was on meeting the future first president of the United States, General George Washington.

  The Dark Cave

  Sally led Patrick and Beth out of the woods. They came to the edge of the wide river.

  A steep cliff rose to one side. It blocked their view of the field.

  Boom! Boom! Boom! The cannon blasts had started again. They were closer now. Too close, Patrick thought. He tightened his grip around the bundle of laundry.

  “Are we heading toward the cannons?” he asked Sally.

  The girl looked at him as if he’d asked a silly question. “You’ll head toward the cannons no matter which direction you go,” she said. “The two sides are getting closer and closer.”

  “Are we safe?” Beth asked.

  “As safe as you’ll be anywhere,” Sally said.

  Patrick was about to ask her where they were. But a nearby cannon startled him.

  Sally crouched down. Patrick and Beth did the same.

  They followed the girl along the river’s edge.

  Boom! Another cannon shot.

  Sally quickly turned to the left. She led them away from the river. “It’s too dangerous to be out in the open,” she called.

  Patrick had to agree.

  Sally ducked into a cave. It was hidden in the side of the cliff.

  Patrick hesitated. It looked like the entrance to a mine.

  Sally motioned for the cousins to come inside. “The troops dug these shelters to hide in,” she said.

  Beth stepped inside. Patrick followed.

  They entered a large, dark dugout. Green cloth hung against the walls like curtains. Water dripped from cracks in the rock ceiling. Small puddles formed on the dirt floor. The air smelled moldy and damp.

  Folding trays stood in the center of the cave. They were covered with papers, bottles of ink, quill pens, and several lanterns. Patrick saw an army cot back in the darkest corner. Large trunks had been set around the front edge of the cave. The floor was covered with wood slats.

  Sally put down her bundle of laundry. She picked up a clean white shirt and opened one of the trunks. She folded the shirt and placed it in the trunk.

  “Be quick now,” she said. “The general may return at any moment. We mustn’t get in his way.”

  Beth and Patrick both lowered their bundles. They helped put away the laundry.

  Just then Patrick heard men’s voices. He caught his breath.

  Sally waved for them to hurry up and finish packing the laundry.

  A deep voice said, “Spr
ead the word. We will escape at midnight.”

  “If the weather is good,” another voice said.

  Three men walked into the cave.

  Patrick gasped. The men were all wearing red coats. These weren’t American soldiers. They were British!

  Redcoats

  Patrick and Beth looked wide-eyed at each other. They were in enemy territory!

  The three men wore white shirts under their red coats. Their white pants were tucked into tall black boots. Their hair hung loosely under their large black hats.

  They paid no attention to the children. The man with the deep voice leaned over one of the trays. He unrolled a map on top of the papers. “Look here,” he said.

  The other men leaned close to see the map. One of them said, “With respect, General Cornwallis, we have only a few ships. We can’t transport all the men.”

  Patrick put a hand over his mouth to keep from gasping. General Cornwallis was one of George Washington’s greatest enemies.

  General Cornwallis tapped the map with his finger. “I have sent word to our commander at Gloucester Point,” he said. “He has small boats that he will bring across the river to us after dark.”

  “You wish to retreat?” the officer asked.

  Cornwallis frowned and said, “We’ve nearly run out of shells, Officer Mudge. We have little food left. This siege has lasted far too long. We must cross the river.”

  “Is there no hope of help from the north?” Officer Mudge asked. “Surely General Clinton is sending ships and troops from New York.”

  “I have written to the general not to come,” General Cornwallis said.

  Officer Mudge looked surprised.

  “It would be folly for them to help us now,” Cornwallis said. “We must use our own wits to fool the Americans.”

  “How will we fool them?” Officer Mudge asked.

  “I will write a letter to General Washington. It will say that I am ready to surrender,” Cornwallis said. “I will stall him with the lie. They will stop their shelling while we talk. They will not be expecting us to slip away in the night.”