Liberty shut his eyes and concentrated. He mumbled something like, “James Madison, Father of the Constitution, ice cream and Popsicles and a cold glass of lemonade and . . .”
“Liberty!” I blurted, snapping him out of his trance. “You’re supposed to be looking for James Madison, remember?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry, Captain,” Liberty said. “I think I could concentrate harder and find Mr. Madison if I had a cold beverage or a scoop of carrot ice cream.”
“Carrot ice cream?” asked Tommy with the kind of look that someone gives when they’ve just heard a really bad idea.
Ignoring both of them, I said, “If my historical notes are accurate, James Madison should be staying at Mary’s boardinghouse. Liberty, if I get you something refreshing could you get us to the boardinghouse?”
This is the back of the Pennsylvania State House in the year 1799. It is known as Independence Hall, where delegates met to sign the Declaration of Independence and later to debate the U.S. Constitution.
“Now you’re talking,” said Liberty, smiling. “It’s about a block north on Fifth Street.”
I stared at him, suspiciously, and said, “That did not seem to take you much effort.”
Liberty shrugged. “It’s amazing how much better my time-travel senses work with the right motivation.”
Oh brother, I thought, as I reached into his saddlebag, took out a big, juicy apple, and fed it to him.
The boys laughed.
“Hey guys, before we go on Liberty’s wild goose chase to find James Madison, gather round so I can give you a quick summary of what is going on right now in American history,” I said.
“Goose chase? I take offense to that,” Liberty added.
We found a place in the shade to huddle and I pulled out a map and some notes.
“So, right now, we are in the year 1787. I know this is a little confusing, but the Americans declared independence from Great Britain in 1776. Even though they declared independence, the war lasted until 1783. As you know, George Washington led the American Army courageously for all those years.”
Always in the mood for a spontaneous quiz, I asked the Crew, “Do you know what happened between 1783 and this year, 1787?”
“Um,” Cam said, “Philadelphia grew like crazy and they all came back here for the Constitution?”
I laughed. “Yes indeed, very good short summary, Cam, but there is more. In the years between 1783 and 1787, after the war was finally over, the young country of America was pulling itself apart. There were thirteen united American states at the time but each one had its own way of doing business. Each state wanted to run things its own way even though they all were in favor of being free from King George.”
“It sounds like there were a lot of cooks in the kitchen,” Liberty added. “Just a little kitchen lingo for you, in case you forgot about snack time. Have we put any thought into that?”
“This kinda sounds like our dodgeball team. If we all ran around with no leader and all did our own thing we really wouldn’t be too good of a team,” Cam said.
“Luckily, we had you,” Tommy said, giving Cam a fist bump.
“Yes, Cam, you are entirely right. At the time, the American team wasn’t that strong because it was not really working together,” I replied.
“You mean like the Americans were wearing the American team jersey but weren’t really using the same playbook?” Tommy asked.
“Yes, exactly right. You guys are on the ball. Spending some time with the security guards at the National Archives building seems to have done you some good,” I said, winking. I could not help myself. “One of the men fighting for a more unified American team was James Madison. How about we find him and ask him why,” I said.
I put my map and notes away, and we made our way from our cool spot under the tree back onto the Philadelphia streets in search of the Father of the Constitution, James Madison.
“Liberty, we should really get you one of those carriages. It would be much more fun for you to pull us around than all this walking,” Tommy said. His forehead was nearly covered in sweat and he had rolled up his colonial shirtsleeves.
“Oh no, I refuse to be a horse and buggy show,” Liberty replied, shaking his head. “I mean, I got the horse part down, but no way on the buggy.”
“Back to Operation Find James Madison. Are you concentrating, Liberty?” I asked.
“Ohhhh, I like that name, it makes us sound very official. Like we are Navy SEALs. Wait, maybe we should be detectives on a secret case,” Liberty said.
I laughed and said, “Where does your keen sense of direction tell us to go next?”
“Um, let me see. I sense that James Madison is very close. But the heat is making it difficult to pinpoint his exact location.”
“That would make sense. I mean it is ten thousand degrees outside,” Cam teased.
Thinking out loud, Liberty said, “He’s not at the boardinghouse.”
We were walking slowly down the street having no idea what was about to happen.
Suddenly, a chubby man in a white apron came bolting out of a shop door, bouncing along and frantically waving a long stick of French bread.
“Thieves, thieves, stop zem!” the man shouted in a strong French accent, “Zey stole my best croissants!” He was looking left and right rapidly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw three boys escape down a back alley.
We stood on the corner across the street trying to absorb what was happening. Tommy and Cam looked at me, wondering what was going on.
Then the Frenchman turned to us—“There! There are ze little rapscallions, arrest zem!”
Uh-oh, he had mistaken Tommy and Cam for the bread thieves.
He started to chase after us, French bread loaf raised, shouting, “If I catch you I will beat you wiz my hand!”
“We better get out of here. He isn’t messing around,” Liberty said.
“Man, I thought it was innocent until proven guilty. That’s what all of the cop shows say,” Cam said nervously. He pulled himself up onto Liberty as the Frenchman stumbled across the street toward us. Tommy was able to jump halfway up when Liberty started moving.
Luckily, the Frenchman looked like he ate quite a few pastries and did not spend much time at the gym. In the distance we saw his face getting redder and redder.
“I will get you!” he shouted as we disappeared around a corner.
We kept running and riding for about six more blocks. When I felt we were safe, the boys jumped off Liberty and we sat on a bench.
“Let me catch my breath, and I’ll go get us some drinks from that store over there and be right back,” I said, still panting. When I returned we drank our drinks and rested.
After a few minutes I said, “Back to the search for James Madison. Liberty, I know most of the delegates to the Constitutional Convention did their work in taverns and private homes, all within walking distance of the Pennsylvania State House, better known as Independence Hall.”
“Let me put that in my thinking hat . . . Tavern . . . beep, beep, beep,” Liberty said, making machine sounds with his mouth. “Nope, I don’t think he’s there,” Liberty said.
“So, basically we have no clue,” Cam said.
“Wait, wait, hold that thought. I smell coffee, which makes me think of donuts, which makes me think of Munchkins, which makes me think . . .” Liberty rambled.
“Liberty, focus. What does the coffee mean?” I asked.
“I am focused, Revere. Great detectives can’t make decisions willy-nilly,” Liberty replied. “I am sensing he may be at the coffee shop as we speak. In fact, he is right over there.”
Ten feet from where we were sitting there was a sign that read COFFEE.
“Liberty, are you telling me that we just ran six blocks and just happen to be outside the coffee shop where James Madison is located?”
“Hmm, that appears to be correct. Once again the case has been solved using my super sleuth skills,” Liberty said, winking.
I
shook my head as we made our way up the steps to the coffee shop and through the doors.
“So, is this like the first Starbucks or Dunkin’ Donuts, Mr. Revere?” Cam asked.
“If so, can I get a Mocha Frappuccino and a glazed donut?” Tommy added.
I smiled. “Well, Starbucks and Dunkin’ Donuts did not come around until the twentieth century, so not exactly. But these are the coffee shops that came before those. Unfortunately, there is no Frappuccino, just regular old coffee.”
Inside the coffee shop, it was quiet at this time of day, like a library. The only sounds we could hear were mumbled discussions from the street and the sound of dishes being washed.
“That man looks like he’s concentrating on something big. He kinda reminds me of my grandfather when he’s studying his stocks,” Tommy said.
In the corner, I noticed a man sitting alone at a table near an open window, hunched over his papers. He was moving his mouth in a quiet, thoughtful way as he scribbled notes.
From my pocket, I pulled out a picture of an old painting of James Madison and looked at it before handing it to Cam.
Do you recognize this exceptional American? He is the “Father of the Constitution,” James Madison.
Cam looked carefully at the picture and then at the man and said, “That’s him! We found our suspect.”
Seeing James Madison in person was like seeing a famous celebrity or athlete. It was hard to imagine this was him in the flesh. Unlike George Washington, however, Madison looked like he was hiding in the corner, his body language saying “please don’t disturb me.”
I was not exactly sure what to do and was a little nervous with all the questions I had to ask, but figured I had to make the move and introduce ourselves. Tommy, Cam, and I walked over to the table.
“Mr. Madison?” I asked.
He looked up nervously, then quickly glanced at the three of us, but hesitated to respond.
For a second I was concerned we had the wrong man. Even though he was sitting down I could tell he was really small in stature. He held a pen delicately. This is not what I expected. When we met Samuel Adams, Paul Revere, and Dr. Warren, they made a strong impression. Samuel Adams was very grumpy but pulled off the Boston Tea Party in glorious fashion. James Madison, on the other hand, seemed very anxious. Could this really be the man who would one day be known as the “Father of the Constitution”? Looks can be deceiving, I thought.
There was a long pause as we looked at each other. Finally, he said, “Uh, yes, I am James Madison, and you are?”
I paused, in awe, until Cam bumped my elbow and whispered, “Mr. Revere, you were saying?”
“Oh, yes, sorry,” I said. “I am Rush Revere, history teacher, and these are my students, Cam and Tommy.”
They both smiled widely but Mr. Madison was completely quiet. It was almost painful to stand there. I was so excited to meet him, but I did not want to make any errors. The silence went on so long, in fact, that I began to turn around, my face warm with nervousness. Certainly this was not Patrick Henry loudly playing his fiddle. Maybe he did not want to be disturbed?
I tried to leave with grace and said, “Mr. uh, thank you . . .”
But before I could finish Tommy leaned in and said to Mr. Madison, “Hey, what are you reading?”
Mr. Madison replied sheepishly, “I, um, am reading books about history,” and then returned to the huge book he had in front of him. It felt awkward to me, but Tommy did not seem bothered. Nor for that matter did Cam. Both were looking at Madison with a curious expression on their faces. In a way, his quietness seemed to let them into his world.
I counted ten books spread out in front of James Madison; three were open and filled with tiny little notes. He pulled at his hair and mumbled something in a near whisper. Tommy leaned in to hear.
What seemed like minutes passed by as Madison looked up from his papers to Tommy and then his eyes darted shyly to us and down to his books.
“We were looking for you!” Tommy said loudly. Madison appeared to nearly jump out of his seat. He looked like he wanted to crawl into his book.
“Oh, you were looking for me? I think you are confusing me with someone else,” Madison said.
“Nope,” Cam said. “You are the guy we are looking for, James Madison of Virginia.”
“Oh,” James Madison said quietly.
“Hey, I have a question for you, sir, if you have a second,” Tommy said bravely.
I was the one who was speechless. Tommy and Cam were speaking to one of the founders of our country, a celebrity, and they were doing all the talking. I was bouncing from one foot to the other.
“Oh, yes, I will try to answer if able, young man,” Madison said, appearing more relaxed.
“You said you were reading about history. Why are you doing that?” Cam asked.
Madison looked excited for the first time and said, “Well, I have been working on this all morning. I am trying to figure it out. This stack of books contains information on governments by philosophers and politicians from history. I will continue to read until I feel confident about what to do.”
I was so excited that I jumped in and asked, “Could we ask you a few questions about the Constitution of the United States of America?”
Mr. Madison looked surprised and suddenly nervous again, “I . . . I should get back to my reading,” he said, politely. He looked back down at his books.
I wanted to kick myself. I knew that George Washington kept the Convention in the strictest secrecy. Even with the summer heat the Convention windows were all closed, except for one, so no one could overhear. Had I ruined our chance to find out more about the Constitution?
At that moment, Liberty poked his head through the open window closest to our table and leaned so far in that his chin whiskers and lower lip touched Mr. Madison’s hair like someone giving him a sloppy kiss. In pure shock, he stumbled sideways in his chair and his papers flew everywhere. Deftly, Tommy caught Mr. Madison’s shoulder and pushed him back so all four legs of the chair were once again on the wooden floor.
I looked at Liberty, stunned. I was afraid James Madison would be upset, but he looked kindly at Liberty and patted him softly on the nose. “Oh, hello, Mr. Horse,” he said. “You’re a curious one, aren’t you?” I remembered the effect Liberty had on George Washington. The General even wanted to recruit Liberty into the Continental Army. This was different, though. Madison looked at Liberty like he was speaking only to him, and Liberty smiled sweetly back.
“I apologize, Mr. Madison,” I said. “This happens to be my horse, Liberty.”
The future President raised his eyebrows and said, “Liberty, what a fine name,” and patted him on the nose.
Liberty lowered his head for a nice scratch. Mr. Madison was standing now and was indeed a short man, no taller than about five feet, five inches. Without saying anything, Mr. Madison began to organize his books. He took his coffee cup with slumped shoulders to the bar, and smiled nicely at the bartender. When he came back he piled all his books up and looked like he would crumble under the weight.
Without saying a word, the Father of the Constitution turned to go, out of our lives forever. I had blown it.
“Uh-oh, Mr. Revere, maybe we should practice being a little more stealthy about the Constitution. It’s kind of top secret, right?” Cam whispered into my ear.
Just then, Mr. Madison reached out his hand with a soft handshake for Tommy and Cam and me, and gave Liberty a small candy he had in his pocket.
Then, as he turned to walk out the door he said quietly, “I am having dinner with some of my friends in a few hours. If you would like to come, we will be dining at Mary’s boardinghouse at four.” And with that, he left.
“Score,” said Cam. “We’re going to have dinner with James Madison!”
“What are we going to do before that?” asked Tommy. “My phone says it’s only three o’clock.”
I explained, “It’s common during this time in history to have two large me
als during the day, a late breakfast and an early dinner,” I said. “We eat at four o’clock.”
Liberty suddenly appeared behind us and asked, “Did someone say early dinner? Because I’m famished.”
This is Independence Hall in Philadelphia in modern day. Can you see the American flag flying above it?
Chapter 5
I was so excited by the thought of dinner with James Madison, I completely forgot about the crazy French shop owner. We casually walked out of the coffee shop and stood in the street discussing our next moves.
“I’ve got to add this to Grandpa’s notebook. He will never believe me but I know he loves our Founding Fathers and thinks they were really smart,” Tommy said.
“Great idea. I am sure he will be so excited to read your notes when we get back,” I said.
Tommy began to pull out his notebook and pencil.
“Zere you are. You come over here right now!” a voice shouted. We turned around to see the man in the white apron, angrily waving a stick of French bread, yelling from the doorway of his shop.
“I think we better get out of here pronto, Mr. Revere,” Cam said.
“Where’s Liberty?” asked Tommy, looking around.
I was unsure myself. Last I saw him, he was poking his head through the coffee shop window.
“Hurry, boys, follow me, and keep close,” I said, racing away from the coffee shop. “Let’s head that way.”
Our escape seemed like a marathon with the crazy French bread man screaming behind us.
Cam pointed. “Look, is that Liberty?” he asked.
We all turned in the direction Cam was pointing and sure enough, there was Liberty standing next to a wooden cart of fresh vegetables. A woman in a long colonial brown dress was patting him and looking at him adoringly. I could have sworn I saw a ribbon peeking out from the top of his mane.
Liberty, you charmer, I thought to myself. He was clearly trying to finagle a carrot or two.
Rush Revere and the Star-Spangled Banner Page 6
