Chapter 1
A Turkey.
On a small farm in upstate New York in December of 1863, three small children played outside near a small red barn. Snow covered the ground and a chill was in the air but those small children were kept warm by their layers of clothing and by their sprit. The eldest was of the children was ten; she had brown hair and brown eyes. Her face a small and round as her cheeks turned rosy due to the cold winter air.
The second was about five years old and had blonde hair with blue eyes. She was smart for her age and very independent. The smallest was their brother; he was only three but he was very talkative and loved to get attention. His hazel eyes sparkled as both his sisters looked at him, his light brown hair tucked neatly under his socking cap.
They pulled him on the hand made sled inside the barn. Beth the eldest child pulled her brown over coat tighter and wrapped her red scarf around her neck snug. She looked at her sister Olivia, who wore the same brown over coat and scarf. “Let’s play with Potatoes.” Beth suggested, “Potatoes must be lonely.” The child was slower than most kids her age and her mother and father would call her special, but some of the mean or ignorant people through the near by city called her retarded or stupid and dummy.
Olivia looked at her older sister and then at the brown turkey that was destine to be Christmas dinner. “Mommy says we are going to eat him…that we shouldn’t make friends with the turkey. That’s why he is named after food. Remember Mashed? He was what we ate for Thanksgiving.” Olivia replied.
“Potatoes…mashed potatoes.” Cole babbled to himself.
“We can’t let them eat Potatoes.” Beth replied with a sad look. “We have to save him…I love him.”
“Mommy going to bring him to the chopping block, Beth.” Olivia replied, “Potatoes is going to be dinner.”
“Olivia, Beth…Cole.” The mother’s voice came across the yard. “Come in for dinner.”
“We better go.” Olivia told them as Beth picked up the rope for the sled. The two girls pulled Cole who sat on the sled back across the snow-covered lawn and into the house.
Later that week the boy from down the road come by to help the children and their mother Ana Peer, with some chores. A twelve-year-old boy with dark hair and long bangs
hung around the wood-burning stove. His brown trousers and brown coat hung from his lanky frame. Kenny Allen rubbed his hands together as Ana called him over to her.
“Kenny…come here and read this to me.” Ana told him, she wore a white blouse and a brown skirt that draped around her ankles. Her hair was auburn and placed in a bun on the top of her head. Her face was soften and her eyes large and bright despite having three children to raise by herself.
Ana knew how to read herself and she was a fine reader at that, however Kenny had problems reading. “I don’t see the letters right.” Kenny once told her. “I guess I’m too stupid to learn to read.”
“Nonsense.” Ana replied, “You just need a good teacher.” Ever since that fateful day two winters ago Ana Peer has been teaching the boy to read.
Kenny sat down at the large oak round kitchen table and read the paper that was placed before him. He looked up at Ana with unsure eyes. “Start slow and take your time.” Ana told him as she went to tend to the dinner on the stove.
Kenny cleared his throat and began to read. It was slow and spaced between each word however he was able to read the entire article. “President Lincoln pardons Union deserters. Union troop deserters were pardon in a sweeping change of executive power. The men were spared the firing squad as Lincoln proclaimed that the war had taken enough American blood.”
Beth looked at her mother. “Mommy…what’s a Pardon?”
Ana tried her best to explain it to her. “Well it’s an order given by the President to save someone’s life or spare them from a conviction.” Beth looked confused to her mother. “The President can write down a Pardon for anyone who would otherwise be sent to death.”
“Like Potatoes?” Beth asked for the child was working on a plan to save her favorite turkey.
“Well, no not Potatoes. However the President does pardon the Christmas turkey for the White House.” Her mother then realized she should not have said that. “But not our turkey.” Her mother quickly added.
Beth looked off in thought as her mother went about tending to dinner. Beth whispered to Olivia, “Do you think the President could pardon Potatoes?” She asked her sister “I don’t want to eat potatoes.”
“Maybe…we should go ask him too.” Olivia replied in whisper.
“We can’t go alone…do you think Mom would let us go to the White House?” Beth asked.
“No, how about we bring Kenny? He’s a grown up to us.” Olivia replied.
That night the children got up from bed and dressed in their warm winter clothing. They had on knit hats and gloves and long scarves. They made their way to the train station in town with the turkey in an old doctor’s bag that belonged to their father. Beth carried the bag with two hands as she hauled with her. “Potatoes is heavy.” She complained.
“He’s a turkey, of course he’s heavy all he ever does is eat.” Kenny replied.
“Gobble-gobble.” The muffled sound of the turkey arose from the bag.
“Keep him quiet.” Kenny told Beth.
“I’m trying.” Beth replied.
“Gobble-gobble.” The turkey voiced.
