by Lisa Grace
“Yes, Sir,” Keiko said smiling at Julian. She was still in shock her dream was coming true. The important part of the truth was ensuring Grace was recognized. “You know, I can’t keep quiet about the Grace Wisher-Stanton Rivers connection. That part has to come out,” Keiko said.
“Naturally,” the Press Secretary smiled, “Tomorrow, on an interview with any news outlet you choose. Of course, that will lead into why Congressman Rivers had his breakdown and accidentally hurt himself, effectively ending his career.”
“But what about the murder of the docent?” Keiko asked.
“That was a drive-by shooting and may never be solved. You can’t go around making unfounded accusations. Please excuse me,” the Press Secretary said as he left them to take his place at the podium to answer questions.
A few minutes later, the Secret Service men ushered them onto the stage as the Press Secretary gave an update on the accidental stabbing of Congressman Rivers. He then went into a summary of the discovery of the star.
“Keiko Zorben.” The Press Secretary announced as Keiko walked up to the podium to speak, “Good morning. Today I’m happy to announce that the missing star from the Star Spangled Banner has been located. Grace Wisher, an African American indentured servant to Mary Picksersgill at the time the flag was sewn, hid the star. From clues I discovered in a letter in the Smithsonian’s archives, I was able to piece together its hiding place. Dr. Julian Lone Wolf of the Smithsonian Institute was integral in helping me to locate the final resting place of the star.” Keiko motions Julian over to the podium to stand with her. “Here it is, the fifteenth star.”
She unwraps the star, placing the letters on the podium, then moves away to hold the star up for all to see. Julian holds the points out closest to him. Cameras flash.
The Press Secretary once again stands at the podium to answer questions while Keiko and Julian pose for pictures with the star.
Julian whispered through his smile to Keiko, “Smile, you’re on television. They’re going to play this footage every year and trust me, you are not going to be happy seeing that grimace.”
She whispered back while trying to change her grimace into a smile, “It hurts to breathe, I’ve been asked to omit the truth, I’ve had one hour of sleep, and I’m wearing yesterday’s clothes,” she said through half clenched teeth, trying to pull her lips up into a simile of a smile, “Is this better?”
“Much, besides the black pants you’re wearing hide most of the wrinkles and dirt.”
“Thank you for the compliment! Is this your romantic side?”
“When we get out of here, I’ll show you my romantic side,” Julian said.
“Not without a piece of paper you won’t,” she joked back.
“Fine. We’ll get a license. Nice and legal.”
“Have you even really proposed? How do you know I’d say yes?” Keiko whispered back.
“You want a proposal? I’ll give you a proposal.”
Julian nudged the Secret Service man next to him to take the points of the star. He walked up to the Press Secretary back at the podium and whispered, “Excuse me, I need the podium for one second. I need to propose.”
“Julian, what are you doing?” Keiko asked as she handed over the points she’s holding to the Secret Service man next to her.
The Press Secretary ended his sentence smoothly as if he were used to interruptions like this all the time.
“Before we continue, Dr. Julian Lone Wolf with the Smithsonian Institute and one of the discoverers of the missing star has something he would like to say.”
Julian stood at the podium, “Keiko, you are one of the bravest women I know. You are passionate about history and the truth, and you own my heart. Keiko, marry me, because I want to live a future with you in it.” He got down on his knee right in front of her, away from the microphone, and took her hand, “Keiko, I love you. Will you marry me?”
Keiko stood in shock. This was not the way she imagined it. Nothing with Julian turned out the way she thought. Here she was, on the national news, looking her worst, in pain, and with no sleep…
“What are you doing? It’s crazy!” Keiko whispered talking while smiling.
“Well? Don’t leave me hanging like this,” Julian whispered back up at her.
Keiko smiled, “It’s too soon! You’re—” She quickly thought of all the moments of happiness that didn’t happen for so many people in the past. The present became history too quickly. Time wouldn’t wait.
“Of course I will. I love you, Julian.”
Julian stood up, took her in his arms, and gave her a kiss. The press crew clapped and started throwing out questions. Keiko and Julian went back to the microphone and answered questions about how the letters from Grace lead them to the star and to each other.
***
A few days later, Keiko and Julian left the courthouse after filing for the marriage certificate. Julian picked out, with Keiko’s help, an engagement ring for her finger. As they headed down Thomas Jefferson Street to Keiko’s parents’ colonial townhome, Keiko spoke up, “Do you mind if after the wedding we stay here? I love this street. Just think, all these homes were built almost a hundred years after Grace was born. I wonder if she lived to see them go up.”
“Maybe,” Julian looked out at the canal that ran along the front of the street. Every townhome was painted a different color, but all were correct to the time in which they were built. It was a beautiful view. “I think it’s better than trying to move into to my studio apartment. I don’t want to take you away from a place that feels like home. And I don’t want to take you away from your parents.”
Keiko squeezed his arm, “ I know they’d like you—even if they aren’t here anymore. I think it’s time I see someone and think about packing up their things.” She was happy and sad, at the same time.
As they headed towards the stairs of her yellow townhome, a grey cat ran over to Keiko and started rubbing against her legs. “Oh!”
Julian reached out and stopped Keiko from falling. “Love at first sight,” he joked. “Scram cat. She’s all mine!”
“I’m sorry,” a little boy said as he climbed up the steps to them and scooped up the cat. “Bad, Socks! Bad cat!” he said, “He only runs that fast to catch mice.”
“Socks? Oh yeah, he is wearing socks,” Keiko said as she reached out to scratch his head. “You better be careful or you’ll be using up those nine lives pretty quick.”
“Meow,” Socks said.
Keiko and Julian smiled as the little boy headed down the street to his home with Socks safely ensconced in his arms.
***
The ceremony to install the star next to the flag along with the letters was to begin at five p.m. The museum managed to arrange a fundraising dinner to follow the installation of the star.
Keiko was to provide a little guided tour down in the storage area for some of the donors who were interested in the provenance of how the letters were found.
Now was a good time to clean up. She was busy stacking boxes out of the way, trying to make her workroom appear a little less messy and more organized.
Keiko’s ribs were still a colorful mix of colors, but it wasn’t as painful to breathe as it was just a few short days ago. The wound where the knife grazed her side had scabbed over and was starting to itch.
She should have known better. It was almost impossible for her to set aside a box without taking a peek in it first. Organizing was taking much longer and Julian would be arriving any minute to give her a ride home so they could dress for tonight’s big event. “Just one more quick look,” she said to herself as she picked up the next box.
The box held an old fashioned scrapbook, containing a sheaf of papers bound crudely with twine used for stitching. On the cover was a child’s drawing of a skull and crossbones. The title underneath made her smile. Secrets to the Buried Treasure. Private letters belonging to Elaine Graham, great-great-great heir to the pirate Bloody Graham!!! Keep Out!!!
&nbs
p; She turned the page. How cute! Even a hundred years ago, a little girl was playing at pirate. Inside she found scrawled across some loose leaf papers yellowed with age, a child’s handwriting boldly stating, The Awful Bloody Pirate Graham’s Treasure Map and Secret Letters. All ye who open will be ordered to walk the plank and fed to the sharks!
Keiko smiled as she turned the pages. Inside were old letters. They could wait until tomorrow. She started to close the book when one of the pages in the middle of the collection of letters, caught her eye. Older paper, more yellow, a thicker pulp. The edges were worn ragged. She flipped ahead and unfolded the document. The inks, more than one color, faded, with age and acidity. Older than the little girl’s papers. Was this from her third great grandpa, the pirate? It could be a treasure map. Some topography appeared to be indicated in the form of mountains in green and surrounded by blue, possibly water. Numbers and other strange markings appeared when she looked closely with her hand-held magnifying glass.
“Cool,” Keiko was not too old to be excited about a treasure map. She would look at it later under one of the Smithsonian’s magnifiers.
She looked up as Julian knocked on the open door frame and entered her workroom. She gently set the map back down in the book where she’d found it.
“Keiko, I need you to verify something, for us. Do you mind taking a ride before we head out to get ready for tonight?” Julian asked.
“Sure. Julian, how would you feel about possibly going to Costa Rica for our honeymoon?”
“What have you found now?”
“Maybe nothing. Maybe a treasure map.”
Julian reached out and pulled her to him. “I would go to the ends of the earth for you so I guess Costa Rica is on the way.”
“Yes! This is going to be so much fun! What could go wrong?”
“You are kidding, right?” Julian said as he pulled her in for a quick hug and kiss.
Keiko pointed up, “I’m not worried. I mean, no one is lucky enough to solve two major historical real-life mysteries, right?”
“Ah yes, your history-mystery.” He hugged her gently mindful of her healing rib, “First, we have to make a little side trip. I think there is still one more mystery to uncover.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll see.” Julian gently pulled her toward the door, “Come on. I think it’s going to be a pleasant surprise.”
***
“What are we doing here?” Keiko asked as they pull up to Claggett’s Brewery. Julian led the way over to the coalscuttle. Keiko saw that the cellar door had a new lock on it. Julian took out a packet of picks, inserted one, and popped the lock. “What’s going on Julian?”
“You’ll see.”
He handed Keiko a flashlight and a camera, then jumped down into the cellar. He helped her down carefully, aware of how difficult it is for her with her cracked rib to manage the slight hop into the darkness of the coalscuttle.
Aren’t you afraid we’ll trip the alarm and get arrested for burglary?” she said.
Julian answered, “Actually, it took a few days to get permission, and I do have the front door key, but I thought it would be more fun this way.”
“Did you forget something down here the first time?” Keiko joked.
“You know what? I think we did. When I pulled out the leather packet, I thought I felt another piece of paper on top, but it slipped off. At the time, I didn’t exactly have the luxury of time to search for it.”
Julian held Keiko’s hand while lighting their way with the flashlight in the other. They came out into the big room where the flag was originally sewn.
Julian and Keiko stood, waiting for a presence, but there was only peace and pin points of dust slowly settling on the unseen currents of the air disturbed by their entry.
Keiko said, “There’s nothing here.”
Julian went to the wall and found the stone they removed the first time. Even though it is loose, it is wedged in and takes a minute to release from the grasp of the wall. He shines his light into the hole. Seeing nothing, he sticks his hand in and feels all along the back wall.
“I know it’s here. I know I felt something.” He moved his hand around the inside digging at the cracks and searching in the loose powder.
“I’ve got it!”
At the bottom, covered by the dust of the disintegrating stones, he felt the edge of a piece of paper. He pulled out a small envelope. Julian dusted it off and can see it has writing on it.
Keiko raised the camera to take pictures of Julian as he removed the letter.
He holds it up to Keiko who paused before she snapped a couple more photos.
“Here, this was meant for you,” Julian said as he handed the letter to Keiko.
“Me? Thank you, Julian.”
She took the note and saw how it was addressed.
“Thank you, Grace,” Keiko whispered. Keiko slowly opened the envelope, taking out the letter addressed to her, and read,
February 19th, 1831
To whomever finds the star,
I want it knowd I love my son. It’s true I pin my hope and love on him. May God bless and give him the love an happiness I never had. It may be God was saving it for him. I hid the star so I may live. May be this was not for the best. I do not know. May haps I am selfish to want to live my sad life. But I gets to see him growd up and live a good life. Someday soon, I hope to see grand babies. Just know the star help me to see a bit of my family future. That is enough for me.
Grace Wisher,
free woman
THE END
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If you enjoyed this story, please look for my next real-life history-mystery novel The Devonshire Treasure by Lisa Grace to release in 2013.
If you enjoyed the novel would you please leave a review on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or tell your Facebook friends?
You can email me at [email protected] , or visit my website at http://www.lisagracebooks.com
I’m on twitter at @lisagracebooks and Facebook at Lisa Grace Books
Thanks for reading,
Lisa
Epilogue
Not much is known about Grace Wisher, the African-American indentured servant of Mary Pickersgill, except that she was assumed to be 13 years old the year the flag was sewn. She was indentured approximately six years starting in 1809. Jenny Wisher was listed on her indentured contract as her mother. No other record of “Jenny” has been found. Everything else I have created about her life is pure fiction. In Maryland at this time period slavery was allowed. Black indentured servants had no rights and were treated as slaves.
The cousins names and ages seemed to vary, Eliza Young and (Jane or Margarette depending on the historical reference you use) ages 13 or 15, 15 or 19, (again depending on the historical document quoted.)
Also, Mary Pickersgill did have a male boarder. I made up a name and left out as much about him as I could, as it did not add to the story.
Louisa and Major George Armistead existed and Louisa was known to give away parts of the flag to people she thought deserving.
Paul Jennings is now credited with saving the portrait of George Washington. He was a personal slave to President Madison and gained his freedom a few years later.
The 15th Star is missing to this day and if you find it, I will have to add a disclaimer and mention your name.
Even though we won the war in 1776 the British were still treating us like a rogue British colony. The War of 1812 finally hit home that we were serious about being our own sovereign nation.
The White House burning followed by the Nor’easter is also factual. In addition, we were trying to expand our country into Canada and we finally gave up on that goal.
Fort McHenry is shaped like a star. For a map see: http://www.nps.gov/archive/fomc/archeology/site.html
To learn how to fold and cut a star go to http://www.ushistory.org/betsy/flagstar.html
To see an article mentioning Louisa giving away the
15th star and a photo of the flag hanging while missing the star go to:
http://www.saratogaflag.com/starspangledbanner.html
I wrote the first 50,000 words of my first draft during National Novel Writing Month which has fun filled competitions for those interested in writing a novel. See: http://nanowrimo.org
Acknowledgments
I also want to thank The Writers in Paradise Conference at Eckerd College, St. Petersburg, Florida. Master authors Sterling Watson and Dennis Lehane co-direct and bring together a powerful team of the best authors working today to mentor and teach students like me. I work-shopped part of The 15th Star during the 2010 conference under the guidance of Laura Lippman who has won every major mystery writing award including the Edgar, the Christy, etc…
Besides being taught by Laura, Sterling, and Dennis, I learned the craft of writing from Anita Shreve, Ann Hood, Stewart O’Nan, Tom Franklin, Michael Kortya, Sherri Reynolds, Beth Ann Fennelly, and Denise Duhamel. Also a special thank you to Christine Caya who is a great writer and helps to run the whole show. I have to mention Stephen King’s On Writing, and Ann Hood’s Creating Character Emotion.
Other authors I consider my mentors are Debby Mayne and Lena Nelson Dooley along with the American Christian Fiction Writers group. I recommend anyone who is serious about writing to attend both of the above conferences.
Lastly, thank you dear reader for reading my book. I am honored that you spent your precious time to come with me to a different time and place. I hope you cried when you read the last letter from Grace to Keiko as I cried when I wrote it and cried again when I read it out loud to my soul mate, my husband, Todd.
Thank you to Knoxville Magazine, the July 2009 issue, for their article mentioning the history of the Star Spangled Banner. The article sparked my interest and put me on my fictional quest for the star.
