 Emma O'Brien had always wondered what was behind the forbidden door in the cellar. Her sixteen-year-old cousin, Eric, had kept her from finding out the secret with stories of rats and trolls that lived in the room, but eight-year-old Emma's curiosity is becoming greater. Her suspicion continues to mount after the family is accused of helping runaway slaves. Emma's family then faces deadly peril when the Battle of Perryville rages near their farm in Kentucky (Ken-tah-ten in the Iroquoian language). Follow the O'Brien family as their faith is tested through the trials and tribulations of the Civil War era. Excerpt from KEN-TAH-TEN: LAND OF TOMORROW The first book in the Land Of... Series by Christie Gerschutz Copyright © 2007 CRM Books ISBN: 1-933341-25-4 Historical fiction for Grades 5-8 Chapter One He knows the price of everything and the value of nothing. Emma O'Brien walked to the top of the hill, the dew-laden grass cool and soft on her bare feet. As she loved to do at sunrise, she knelt down and drank in the view. Low, rolling hills covered the landscape, their green trees and swaying grass rustling with birds and wildlife. A hazy mist lay softly on the scene, slowly lifting with the rising June sun. The clouds on the horizon were radiant with vivid colors, and the sky above was a stunning azure blue. She breathed in the sweet smell of Kentucky bluegrass and looked over at her family's cows. The cow pasture was carpeted with the beautiful grass, its bluish-green tint matching her eyes. Mabel, Feisty, and Blaze grazed contently, occasionally lifting their heads to stare at the little eight-year-old daydreaming on the hill. Emma's white teeth flashed in a grin as she thought of the time her cousin Eric had tried to ride Mabel. The memory of his landing smack on his backside made her giggle. As she turned her eyes back to the view in front of her, she noticed that a tiny sparrow had lighted on a large rock beside her. Emma's eyes turned a deep sapphire blue with delight. "How er you, little feller?" she asked. He merrily tweeted in reply, cocking his head as if studying the girl. Emma's black Labrador, Hank, growled at the trespasser. "Hank, stop that. He ain't hurtin' no one." "Emma!" Her mother's voice made Emma start. She jumped up and looked back towards the farm, where her mother, Faye, was standing on the porch. "Yeah, Ma?" "Time to go get your chores done! Faye hollered. Emma sighed heavily. "Oh, c'mon, Hank. Let's go." The faithful dog trotted cheerfully after her, not understanding but happy to be along. Emma walked down the hill, casting a wistful glance at the scene behind her. Mabel lumbered in the door of the big brown barn to wait for Emma. Emma pulled out the cumbersome wooden bucket and set it on the ground under Mabel. Plunking down on the three-legged stool, she began the tedious work of milking the hefty black-and-white animal. Mabel stood obediently until Emma was finished, then plodded back out to the pasture to join her fellow bovine. Emma lugged the heavy bucket up to the front porch, the frothy milk sloshing against the sides of the container. "Here's the milk, Ma." She set it on the porch outside the door of the two-story wooden plank house. Her mother walked out, wiping her hands on her crisp white apron. "Thank you Emma," she said, looking down at the bucket. "My, Mabel sure is giving a lot of milk. We'll have lots of fresh milk and butter now that the calf won't be taking up most of it." "I guess so. It still seems so sad that they have to be taken away from their mothers so soon. Oh! Ma, do you think Feisty's gonna have a calf?" Emma fairly danced at the thought. "She sure is gettin' fat." Faye smiled and answered, "Ask your father when he gets home." "Is that a yes? Is it?" she persisted. "Emma, I'm not saying yes or no. Just ask your father what he thinks." "What who thinks about what?" a deep voice called. Emma turned and looked up the path. Her sixteen-year-old cousin, Eric, was coming down the lane with two bucketfuls of fresh strawberries from the field, his tan face and arms glistening with sweat from the sun. "Eric! Feisty's gonna have a calf!" "Emma!" Faye said sternly. Emma snapped her jaw shut and slowly turned to look at her mother. "What did I say?" Faye firmly asked. "I--I mean I'm s'posta ask Pa if she is... 'cause she might," Emma stated, then lowered her head. "Aw, that's awright, little cous'. I knew what ya meant." Eric grinned and put his arm around Emma's drooping shoulders, "C'mon, help me clean these strawberries up fer cannin'." Emma glanced at her mother for permission. Faye smiled, her pale blue eyes showing her fondness for her oldest daughter. She pushed her own brunette hair off her face. "You can go help your cousin. Afterwards I'd like you to help me out with this here new canning invention. I sure am glad that your aunt's neighbor in Brooklyn--what's his name-- Mr. John Mason sent us these jars. Sure makes it a lot easier to keep food." She looked at the glass jar in her hand and shrugged. "It's supposed to keep food tasting better for a longer period of time. It would sure help out with keeping food in the winter. Well, I hope some company will manufacture it for him and make sure people find out about it. Anyway, yes, you may help Eric. But first take that crock of beans down to the cellar. I decided I won't be needing it for supper after all." Emma froze. "The--the cellar?" she asked quaveringly. "Are y--you sure you won't need it fer somethin'?" Faye turned towards the door. "Yes, Emma, I'm sure. I've told you, there is nothing down there that can hurt you. Now go." The little girl picked up the jar and began slowly walking toward the cellar doors. "Oh, Emma," her mother called, stepping back onto the porch. "Here's a candle so you can see down there. And remember, do not go through that inner door for any reason whatsoever." As if I would ever want to, Emma thought. That's the only thing that scares me about the cellar. Her knees shook as she made her way around the house. She tucked the clay jar in the crook of her arm so she could shield the flame with her hand. A locust flew past her and she jumped. Finally, she stood before the double doors of the cellar. She took a big breath, set the jar down and opened the doors. Cool air rushed out and nearly extinguished the candle. Holding the jar tightly, she cautiously crept down the squeaky wooden steps. She paused at the bottom and looked around. The candlelight cast weird shadows on the walls, where rows and rows of shelves lined the dark cellar. Dried and jarred beans, corn, peaches, peas, carrots, and of course, strawberries were the only good things about the cellar in Emma's eyes. She hurried over to the strip of bean jars and placed the crock on the dusty shelf. Turning to her left, she spotted the inner door. For as long as she could remember, her parents had forbidden her to go behind that door. She had often heard noises coming from it, but could never distinguish what they were. Whatever was in there, it scared her. But as terrified as she was, she still decided to walk over and turn the knob, just to see. Maybe there was some present in there for her that her folks didn't want her to know about... or maybe for her sister. She scowled. Her sister Katie was the baby in the family and always seemed to be the favorite of her parents. A thought popped into her head. Wouldn't it be fun to discover her sister's present and let it loose? After all, those noises could be coming from an animal. She'd let her folks think that it got loose on its own. So Emma ignored the little voice in her heart that tried to dissuade her, and reached for the knob. She paused as she thought she heard something behind her. OOF! The wind was knocked out of her as two brawny arms clamped themselves around her waist. The candle fell from her hand, and blackness enveloped the room. She caught her breath, screamed as loud as she could and tried to kick her attacker. Her bare heel connected with a shin, and the stranger grunted in pain. The arms dropped her, and she ran for the door with all her might. She tripped on the last step and fell into the bright sunshine. Opening her eyes, she squinted back towards the cellar door. <>< (Check out the rest of Chapter One by purchasing your very own autographed copy of "Ken-tah-ten: Land of Tomorrow.") Since this is an historical fiction book, the following outline is for aiding in Unit Studies and other school activities in the historical aspects of the story. Giving the students opportunity to not only study more in depth, but to experience history by using their creative imagination is what education is all about. Book stores, libraries and the Internet will allow them access to more information on these subjects. Then by encouraging them to be creative in sharing what they've learned, it will help them develop communication skills, understand history better and discover hidden talents. Maybe they enjoy drawing, painting, or sculpting; writing skits, stories or newspaper articles; using puppets; making buildings or forts out of sticks, Legos or play dough; dressing in time period clothing; learning to play a mountain dulcimer or harmonica; or even making a covered wagon as family project, using their little red wagon, can be fun and exciting. Just let their creative imagination soar! Chapter 1 Irish proverb: He know the price of everything and the value of nothing. Farm live in Kentucky in 1862. Perryville, Kentucky Mason canning jar How it impacted food preservation Black slavery No part of this book may be reproduced without prior written permission from the publisher. |