Chapter 1

The Cannon Blast

Would she never hush? Theodore Story sighed and hunched his shoulders against the brisk December wind. Everyone was tired of waiting. And it was cold just standing on the dock. But couldn’t his little sister understand that pestering every five minutes with, “Is he coming now?” would not make the governor appear any sooner?

Sailing up the Delaware River on its way to Philadelphia, the governor’s ship, Canterbury, had stopped for the night at the town of Chester. But this morning, with December ice still crackling in its rigging, Governor Penn had remained on board. Surely with such a large crowd waiting to salute him, he would come ashore soon.

Theo’s father, Thomas Story, worked as an aide for the Quaker William Penn and had brought his family down from Philadelphia to meet the governor. It was their first outing as a family since the loss of their three-year-old Jessica to yellow fever just a month ago, and Theo’s mother was trying hard to be cheerful. They’d been in Pennsylvania only a year when the yellow fever epidemic struck. The Story family had come ahead to help prepare for the governor’s return from England, where he had been for fifteen long years. Now the governor had finally arrived, so Thomas Story, his wife, Abigail, and Theo and Nicole stood waiting on the river dock along with a festive crowd of other citizens.

Again Theo looked out at the silent ship. He couldn’t see anyone on deck. Restless, the lanky thirteen-year-old turned and pushed through the crowd, looking for his friend Bernie Bevan. Bernie had also come down from Philadelphia to greet the governor. Everyone thought it would be such a good time, but so far, all they had done was wait. The last time Theo had seen freckle-faced Bernie, he was heading up the trail toward the top of the bluff overlooking the river with a skinny kid named Charles, a boy he’d met here in Chester. Bernie was smart—when you’re from out of town and don’t know what to do, find someone local to show you some fun.

The trail was steep, and the exercise warmed Theo’s blood. His breath came out in little steam puffs as he neared the top of the bluff. He loosened the wool scarf around his neck and stepped through some brush into an open area.

“Hey, Theo, look at this!” called a gleeful voice. “We’re really gonna welcome the governor!”

 Red-headed Bernie stood beside an old rusty cannon that was pointed toward the river, while Chester worked with a ramrod pushing something down its barrel.

Theo waved an arm at the half circle of huge stone blocks evenly spaced along the edge of the bluff. “What’s this, the top of a castle?” He could now see there were actually two cannons poking out between the stones. A small wooden powder keg sat on the ground between them.

Charles stood up, his ankles hanging out below the bottom of his pant legs. “It’s what’s left of the old Dutch fort that used to guard the river.”

Noting the direction the cannon was pointed, Theo rushed forward to the edge and looked. “You’re not going to fire on the governor’s ship, are you?”

“Yeah! We’re gonna blow him out of the water the moment he steps into his little boat to be rowed ashore,” laughed Bernie. Charles joined in, and together they roared with nervous excitement.

Theo looked over the edge to the ship sitting at anchor in the river. The cannon did seem pointed right at it. “You can’t do that!” he sputtered.

Charles raised both arms shoulder high as though he were welcoming the whole world. With a wide-eyed, silly grin, he said, “Why not?”

“Because . . .” Theo looked from one boy to the other. This couldn’t be happening.

Bernie slapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, you’re too gullible, Story. Why would we want to shoot at the governor? We’re just going to give him a royal salute—just a big boom. You don’t see any cannon balls sitting around here, do you?”

“You rats,” Theo said and socked Bernie in the chest as he turned and walked away. He felt like a fool, falling for their story. Of course they wouldn’t shoot the governor! Even though William Penn had been away for a long time, everyone loved him. Today was the first day of December, 1699, and he was returning just in time to take the colony into the new century.

“Come on, Theo,” called Bernie. “Be a sport. Here, you can help us fire it.” But Theo continued to walk toward the trail that would take him back down the hill.

“Hey, you aren’t going to tell on us, are you?” asked Charles.

Theo stopped and turned. Why were they worried that he might tell? He walked back toward the boys, studying their faces. “What’s there to tell? As soon as you fire that thing, everybody is going to know what you did.”

Bernie and Charles glanced at each other as though trying to decide whether to let Theo in on their secret. “Uh . . . well,” said Bernie, grinning, “when Charles asked if we could shoot off a cannon, the mayor said no. ‘Absolutely not!’” he mimicked. “‘Nobody is ’sposed to mess with those cannons.’”

“He told you—! So why are you doing it?”

Charles shrugged. “The mayor’s an old goat. Doesn’t want anyone to have fun. But you wait and see; when all those people hear our salute, they’ll cheer. Then the mayor will probably tell them he asked us to fire it.”

Theo looked from Charles to Bernie. He had heard that the mayor of Chester was a rather stiff-laced old man and that things in this little town were not nearly so free as in Philadelphia just a few miles up the river. But if the mayor specifically told Charles not to fire the cannon . . . . “You guys go ahead and have a good time. Think I’ll go back down. My folks will be wondering where I am before long, and you wouldn’t want my father coming up here.”

“Do as you please.” Bernie shrugged and turned back to the cannon.

“Just don’t tell anyone what we’re doing up here,” Charles warned. “We want it to be a surprise!”

G G G G

Theo arrived back at the dock just as people started clapping and cheering. Making his way through the crowd to where his parents and sister stood, he could see that Governor Penn, his wife and daughter, and another young man were finally in the longboat.

“Look, Theo!” said Nicole, dancing up and down on her toes, her brown curls bouncing. “He’s coming! And Mrs. Penn and Latitia are with him, too. Do you think she’ll remember me?”

Theo rolled his eyes. Penn’s daughter by his first wife, practically a grown woman, had always fussed over Nicole and little Jessica. Theo’s heart gave a sudden lurch at the thought of his baby sister, dead now. He shook his head and squinted toward the anchored ship.

Slowly some sailors pushed the boat away from the ship and began to row toward shore. Both women and the young man were seated, but the genteel governor remained standing beside the ship’s officer who held the tiller. His curly hair, whitened more by powder than by his fifty-five years, fell gently to his shoulders and outlined his full oval face. Even from that distance, Theo noted the governor’s calm gaze as he waved to the people on the dock.

As the boat moved smoothly through the gray, placid water, Theo looked back at the top of the bluff where the old cannons poked out between the huge stones. He could see Bernie and Charles moving around. Had they lost their courage? Were they reconsidering their plan? And then Theo saw Bernie’s curly head as he looked over the edge. He had a smoking puck in his hand. Now was the time. Would he do it?

Bernie disappeared, and a moment later a huge cloud of white smoke billowed from the cannon followed by a thunderous boom that rocked the riverfront. A few women screamed, but everyone turned to look up at the old fort. As the smoke drifted away, the two boys climbed to the stop of the stones on either side of the cannon and waved their arms in triumph.

The crowd cheered, and then, as though someone pulled a string to turn their heads, everyone’s attention shifted to see how the governor would respond. But he was alternately clapping and waving to the boys.

Just as Charles had predicted, the mayor’s voice called out from the riverside, “Well done, lads! Very well done!” as though he had ordered the cannon shot.

It was a great demonstration, and Theo hadn’t been part of it. He hung his head and started to kick at a loose board in the dock when his father’s sudden movement almost knocked him over. “Oh no!” Thomas Story gasped.

Theo looked up at the cliff where his father was staring, open-mouthed. Bernie was pushing another powder charge down the barrel of the cannon with the ram. He pushed it deeper.

“No, No, NO!” yelled Mr. Story. “It’s still hot! The powder will blow!”

Again white smoke billowed, but with the boom that followed two objects flew out of the smoke, tumbling end over end and falling into the bushes at the bottom of the cliff. Theo jerked in horror. One was Bernie . . . the other looked like his arm!

Shock froze the crowd until a woman screamed. Then mothers hugged their small children into their skirts and men started running for the base of the cliff.

“Is there a doctor here?” Theo’s father yelled. “Theo, go find Doctor Simpson.”

Theo hesitated. He wanted to go to Bernie! Was he alive? Had that really been his arm? What if he was bleeding to death!

“I be a doctor.” A scruffy man in a three-cornered hat stepped forward, waving his hand toward Mr. Story, but Theo’s father was already running up the hill. The man looked around at the frowning people who were staring at him. “Just call me Doctor Patch.” He grinned and pointed to the patch over his right eye. “I been a ship’s doctor for many a year and have seen this kind of injury all too often.” He started off toward Bernie, and Theo hurried after him, noticing that the man with the patch had a limp in his left leg.

Bernie’s fall down the cliff had been broken by some tough bushes, on which he now lay like a rag doll. His eyes were closed, his face white. Blood soaked the right side of his wool coat. Theo hardly recognized him.

“I’m a doctor,” the strange man said again. “Help me get the boy down off this bush. Put him on the ground with his head uphill.”

Mr. Story and a couple other men helped.

“Easy now,” growled Doctor Patch. “The lad could ’ave broken bones, and we don’t want to make matters worse.”

Doctor Patch worked quickly to stop the bleeding from Bernie’s shoulder. He sure looked like he knew what he was doing.

Theo couldn’t pull his eyes away from the horror of his friend’s missing arm until the little circle of onlookers parted to let the mayor and William Penn through. The governor’s kind face was etched with concern.

“I told them not to fire that cannon!” said the hawk-faced mayor, wringing his hands. “I warned those boys, but children just don’t listen to their elders anymore. I declare, Governor, I just don’t know what’s going to become of this world in the next century.”

But no one was paying any attention to what the mayor said, least of all Theo. His friend was dying on the ground right in front of him. He felt so helpless. What could he do? What could he do? He looked around. There had to be something! If only he could turn back the clock. He’d known what the boys were going to do. He should have stopped them. But how? They wouldn’t have listened to him. Maybe he should have told his father . . . but you don’t just tell on your friends. Still . . . he had known, and he hadn’t told, and now Bernie was going to die.

Minutes dragged. Finally Doctor Patch stood up and shook his head. He looked at  Governor Penn. “Don’t know if the lad’ll be makin’ it. He needs on-going medical care—something I can’t give him.” Noticing the question on the governor’s face, he added, “Seein’ as how I’ll be back at sea a’fore the mornin’.”

Theo stared hard at Bernie. His friend looked as close to dead as anyone Theo had ever seen. But no, there was a slight movement in his chest. He was still breathing, and the doctor said he needed ongoing medical attention. “He’s going to make it, isn’t he, Doc?”

The doctor raised the eyebrow over his patch and squinted at Theo out of his other eye. “Him that knows is keepin’ mum, son. But frankly, I fear he’s destined for Davy Jones’ locker . . . if he were at sea, that is.”

The words stabbed Theo. Why hadn’t he told someone? His mind was spinning so fast he hardly heard the governor say, “I take it, sir, that you are a ship’s doctor?”

“Oh, that I be, that I be,” said Doctor Patch as he raised his three-pointed hat with one hand and wiped his brow with the back of his other hand, leaving a brown streak of Bernie’s blood across his forehead. “I’ve breathed the salt air for so many years that my nose gets all stuffed up when I come ashore, and I can’t seem walk a straight line if there’s no deck rolling under me feet. So I never stay ashore for long.”

“Yes,” said William Penn, stroking his chin and frowning as he looked the doctor up and down. “I can imagine you might have some difficulty walking . . . the straight and narrow, that is. And what, may I ask, is the name of your ship?”

But instead of answering, Doctor Patch knelt down beside Bernie and felt his forehead. “You say there be a doctor in town?”

“Doctor Simpson,” said one of the Chester citizens. “We’ve sent to fetch him.”

The governor spoke up. “We’re grateful for your efforts on behalf of this poor young man, uh, doctor. If you’ll name the price . . .”

Doctor Patch stood up with a glint in his eye. “Well, that would be . . . twenty guineas. Twenty guineas for saving the lad’s life.”

Governor Penn pursed his lips. But he said, “I’ll have your fee sent to your ship tonight before you sail in the morning.”

“Oh, now, Governor, I wouldn’t want an important man like yourself to have to come all the way to me ship. Whatever is convenient now will be payment enough. I’m just happy to serve a mate in need.”

The governor scowled as he felt in the pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out several coins that he handed to the man.

“Thank you kindly,” said the doctor as he took the coins, biting on one to make sure they were not made of lead. Then his face reddened. “Forgive me, your honor. It’s just that these days you never know. Good day!” He doffed his three-cornered hat and turned to leave. The people in the circle around Bernie parted to let him pass.

“What a rude man,” Theo’s father muttered.

The governor continued to look after the doctor as he limped away. “Hmm. I wonder what ship he does sail on?” He turned to Theo’s father thoughtfully. “Story, have you continued having as much trouble with pirates as you wrote in your letter last spring?”

“Well, yes. But we hope it’s over. You heard that Captain Kidd was captured, haven’t you?”

“Yes, yes, I did,” the governor mused. “But I also heard that he almost escaped!”

© 2000 Dave and Neta Jackson