A Patriot and a Red Coat

I'd like you to know how I met Linda.

"Don't forget, lock the door if you go out Bobby," my Uncle said.

It was one week into my summer with my Aunt and Uncle.  Mom was teaching a summer course at Northeastern.  She asked if I'd like to visit them in Coventry, Connecticut.  Not too far from Boston.  She could visit weekends.  I jumped at the chance.

"And don't go too far," Uncle added.  My Aunt would drop him at his office, then go on to do the laundry and grocery shopping in nearby Willimantic.

"I won't," I promised.

I remembered the door when I went out.  My plan for the day didn't require going far.

An abandoned log cabin in the Nathan Hale Forest was my objective.  I found it yesterday, and decided on some repairs to turn it into my secret fort.  The Forest was an important place for a fort.  The trees could hide a multitude of red coats ready to attack the colonialists. 

While visiting the Nathan Hale Homestead, my Aunt had gotten me a book on America's famous first spy.  I imagined myself as a colonial hero ready to "regret that I have but one life to give for my country."

Shored up the roof first.  Boards from a broken down lean to laid over the roof, and secured with a nail in each.  The front door was hanging off to one side.  I was able to re-hang the door with new screws for the hinges.

Now I could hold off the red coats.

Good thing I was ready.  Wouldn't you know it, there was some one in red sneaking through the bushes.

"Halt, who goes there?" I asked.  "This fort is off limits to red coats."

Silence.

"Come out now," I commanded.

"Well, I'm not a red coat," said a blond haired girl, as she stood up.  "Just have a red jersey on."

Just because she was a girl with a red jersey on didn't mean she could be trusted.  I still had to defend my fort.

"My name's Linda," girl said.  "What's yours?"

"Bobby," I replied.  "If you're not a red coat, I guess you can visit my fort."

"No secret password required?" she laughed, as she bounced through the bushes up to the fort.  She brushed off a maple leaf that had stuck to her jersey with her one free hand.  She had a carrying case in the other hand, one designed to cushion and protect whatever's inside it.

"I haven't needed one before," I laughed too.  "We could make one up."

"Cool!" she said.  "Let's see, I'm ten.  How old are you?"

"I'm ten too," I replied.  At least I was a little taller then her.

"OK, how about our names and the number 20?" she asked.  "Something like Linda20Bobby."

"No, Bobby20Linda," I said.  "I was here first, and did the work fixing it up."

"That's fair," she smiled.

I followed her into the fort.  As she looked around, I did too.  It was in pretty good shape, if I did say so myself.

"What a great place, Bobby," she said.  "If we can build a small table, with something to sit on, we can setup my laptop to see the war map stored on the hard drive.  Maybe we can find the treasure."

"Treasure?" my ears perked up.  "Finding a treasure would be great, but in the Nathan Hale Forest?"

"If you help, I'll explain while we work," Linda said.

"OK."

I wasn't blind to the fact that simple stuff for the fort wasn't much to ask for a treasure.  So we started in, while Linda offered her explanation.

"During the Revolution, Nathan Hale was caught spying in 1776.  By 1780, the Colonists needed help.  France provided it.  General Rochambeau, with a force of over 5000, marched from Newport, Rhode Island, across Connecticut, to join up with General Washington to attack the British at Yorktown."

"How do you know all this stuff Linda?" I asked.

"While I spent last summer with my Grand Parents here in Coventry," she answered, "Grammy and her friends, prepared food for a celebration.  A memorial was dedicated thanking the French and Rochambeau.  The French Ambassador came up from Washington.  It was a big deal."

"That must have been cool," I said.

"Oh it was.  Grammy wanted me to understand our family's role in 1780.  My great, great, well, I actually don't know how many greats, but a lot, Grand Parents had a farm in Coventry," Linda explained.  "They supported the Revolution, and the French.  A family secret was handed down from those times."

"A secret?" I whispered.  It was like I was in a trance.

"Yes, a secret treasure map," she also whispered.  "The French had a chest of gold coins to cover expenses.  They didn't want to risk the gold falling into British hands.  A decision was made to bury the chest secretly, on my family's farm!"

"If I show it to you Bobby," she said, "you have to swear to keep it secret."

"Cross my heart and hope to die," quickly making the most serious commitment I knew of.

"OK," Linda said.  "It's good that you swore to that, but I still have to ask my Grammy.  It's really her map."

"It's getting late," she continued.  "I'll ask Grammy tonight, and we can meet back here tomorrow."

You can imagine how much I slept that night.  Soldiers marching through the forest where Nathan Hale grew up, French gold being hidden from the British, stuff right out of a book!

The next day was cooler, so I wore a light blue jacket.  No red for me.

Linda on the other hand obviously preferred red.  She had a red sweater on.  It actually looked good with her blond hair.  Not that I paid much attention to that stuff.

"Grammy knows your Aunt and Uncle, so said that I could show you the map," Linda said.  "Honestly, I don't think she believes we can find anything because she and every generation has tried with no success."

Linda opened her laptop, and brought up the image of a simple map.

"This is a scanned image of the paper map." she said.  "What Grammy forgets is something my laptop has that her generation didn't.  A built in GPS."

"Watch what it can tell us," Linda added.

It was amazing.  A flashing symbol showed where we were on the map.  The bad news was that there was no fence next to us as the map claimed.

"Oh Bobby, no," Linda said.  "Just like Grammy's story about searching for the chest of gold.  It was like a nightmare.  She couldn't find things that were on the map."

"Don't worry," I said.  "This wasn't a forest in 1780.  It was all farm fields.  Wooden fences have disappeared, but I bet the stone walls are still around."

"Bobby, you're right," Linda jumped up and hugged me.  She really didn't have to do that.

"Let's follow the GPS," I suggested.

It was tough moving through the undergrowth.  Oaks and maples provided cover for a variety of bushes, ferns, and small trees; everything a bright green.

It would have been easier for the French to cross the cleared fields.  That's probably why the map pointed to a spot away from any fences or stone walls.

"We're getting close," I said.  "Just imagine if we find it."

"We'll be rich all our lives," Linda said.  "Maybe we could spend it all together."

Did she mean spending the money or our lives together?  Scary, but not too much.

"Should be right about here," I said.

"Try probing with my Grand Pa's walking stick," Linda said, handing me the rod she'd been carrying; polished wood with a metal tip.

I lifted it over my head, and shoved it into the soft earth.  Half way down it hit something with a ringing sound.

"Yea, hooray, we're rich," we hollered, as we jumped, holding hands, and swinging each other around.

The chest made us popular in the newspapers and on TV for a while.  But not millionaires.  A great start though, for the lives we've spent together.  Turned out that Linda meant both.