Chapter One

Even as a young girl the sweet smell of magnolias and the cool shade of a tall tree were special to me. I enjoyed pretending I was an adult and that I knew what it meant to be calm and appreciative of simple things. There were many days I felt that I was a thirty-year-old woman trapped in the body of a young girl. On the days I got the urge to learn to cross stitch instead of play tag, I thought maybe I was meant to be eighty, and skip all the childish things. But then there were the days I spent wandering in the woods just east of the Buckhannon River, digging in the dirt with Howard, the round-faced, sandy-haired boy that I called my best friend. It was days like that when I was reminded of my true age.

For as long as I can remember I've felt more in tune with the past than the present. I've always found an unexplainable feeling of nostalgia and comfort in tangible objects that were rich in history, the kind of objects that transport you to a different time and place by simply being in their presence. One of my earliest memories is from the day I found one of those objects. The first of many that I collected were silver buttons I found near an old sycamore tree just off the river. It was the first time Howard and I had wandered that far from home, and it was weighing on my six-year-old conscience until I saw the faintest glimmer of silver in the dirt next to my bare feet.

"Come on Mollie!" Howard hollered at me through the trees, "You're gonna get in trouble!"

"Wait a minute!" I hollered back, digging as fast as I could in the damp, cool soil.

"Mollie! Come on!" He yelled again, stomping through the brush, trying his hardest to be as stern as a six-year-old could be.

"Wait a minute, I said! Can't you hear?!" I retorted sarcastically.

"Aw, Mollie, why are you digging in the dirt?!" Howard whined as he cleared the branches in his path to me.

"Because I found something, help me dig!" I said, dusting off a fourth button.

Howard crouched down next to me.

"Wow!" he gasped, holding a button up in front of his face, his eyes wide.

"Told you!"

"Yeah, yeah. You're still gonna be late."

"So, what?" I shrugged, frantically digging for more buttons.

"What do you mean so what?! You know what!" He whined.

And I did, I knew. If I was late for supper I didn't get any. But it wouldn't be the first time I went to bed hungry, and I wanted those buttons.

"Come on, Mollie, we can come back tomorrow and look some more," Howard said, standing up, trying to bring me with him. I could hear the worry in his voice, and it hurt. It should have been my worry, for I was the one who would be hungry.

"Okay! Okay!" I said, filling the hole in with the loose dirt. I stood up and looked around. I studied the sycamore tree, the dirt and leaves on the ground, the brush around me, and the river as I saw it from that angle so I could easily find it again. I was determined to find more buttons, but not at the expense of Howard's conscience. I put the four silver buttons in my dress pocket and Howard grabbed my hand and we took off east. The twigs and branches were sharp under my bare feet, and I knew if I kept with my slow pace I'd surely miss supper.

"Hurry!" Howard said, "The sun is almost behind the trees!"

"I know!" I said, "I'm going as fast as I can!"

Howard ran back towards me, then turned his back to me.

"Hop on," he said, "I'll carry you."

We were nearly the same size, but all I could think about was the relief of my bare feet, so I jumped on his back and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He ran as if his supper depended on it, but his parents would never do such a thing.

By the time we made it through the woods, the top of the sun was still peeking over the treetops in the distance. Howard put me down in the soft grass of the field across from my house, and I hoped it would clean my dirt covered feet as I ran through it. We ran as fast as we could to the gravel road, where I tiptoed carefully across. Howard waited at the end of my driveway, looking back and forth between me and the pending sunset. I grabbed the screen door handle with my dirty hands and jumped across the threshold. I saw Howard watching me through the screen, feeling confident that I had made it in time.

"You're late again," My mother said, walking away from the front window where she had been watching me.

"But..." I started to whine, absolutely certain I wasn't late. I could still see the top of the sun with my own eyes.

"It's not my fault you didn't watch the time while out with that boy."

I could have cried like I had so many times before, though it still wouldn't have gotten me supper, but the buttons in my pocket seemed to make everything okay.

"Fine," I said, running up the stairs to my bedroom. I ran in and slammed the door. I went straight to my bedroom window to see Howard still standing at the end of the driveway, waiting for my answer. I opened the window and shook my head. I wouldn't be eating supper that night.

I went to my bed and removed the four silver buttons from my dress pocket. I dusted the dirt off the best I could and studied the detail. I was in awe. To whom did these buttons belong? How long had they been there? How did they get there? I had never had such questions about anything before, but the buttons intrigued me and I wanted nothing more than to find out.

After I changed into my night clothes I waited for my mother to come brush my hair like she did every night. I kept the buttons in my hands, two in each, my small fingers wrapped tightly around them.

"Why are your hands like that?" my mother snapped as she sat down next to me.

I knew better than to speak, as nothing I said seemed to please her. I slowly released my grip from both hands, revealing four buttons and a dusting of dirt left in each.

"Dammit, Mollie!" my mother yelled, taking the buttons from my hands as quickly as she could. She dragged me to the sink and scrubbed my hands until they were red.

"Who did you steal these from?" she asked, but didn't give me even a second to respond.

"My daughter's a thief now, isn't that wonderful."

According to my mother, I just couldn't do anything right.

The next morning I woke up extra early and planned to spend the entire day next to the Buckhannon River digging up more buttons. I knew I'd never get back the ones my mother took. She was the real thief and didn't even know it. I knew better now than to show her anything else I found. Unless she had given it to me, I would probably be accused of thievery. Needless to say, I had nothing more than what I needed to not leave the house naked.

I slipped on the only pair of shoes I owned and stepped quietly down the stairs. No one else had woken yet, not that they would have cared if I was leaving. In fact, my mother would probably be glad of it, since it meant the possibility of me being late again, and therefore her satisfaction of serving me the consequences.

When I stepped outside, the sun was nearly a mirror image of how I left it the night before: barely peeking over the trees, except I had the entire day ahead of me. I set off to the west towards the Buckhannon River. I entered the woods in the exact spot we exited the evening before, I was sure of it, and I traced our path exactly as I remembered it. Once I got near, I could hear the water of the river flowing fast ahead of me, but I heard rustling from the woods even closer. I slowed my step and walked lightly, looking for a deer or a small animal. As soon as the old sycamore tree came into view, I saw Howard digging in the dirt.

"Hey!" I said, stomping over to him with my hands on my waist.

He stood up, and I waited for the guilt on his face knowing I caught him trying to find buttons of his own, but I saw none. His face was full of disappointment.

"What are you doing?" I asked, immediately regretting the accusatory tone of my voice, "I thought we were gonna look together?" I said timidly.

Howard paused. "Well, you came by yourself, didn't you?" He retorted, in the same accusatory tone, though I deserved it. He sighed, "I was looking for them for you anyway, I don't want any buttons."

He bent over behind the tree and picked up a metal lunch box.

"I was gonna bring you breakfast and some stupid buttons, but I guess I'll just leave."

I felt a burn in my throat and tears welling up in my eyes. I felt terrible. I knew better than to accuse Howard of trying to steal something that, technically, wasn't even mine. But it was the first time I found something I could call my own.

I had spent half the night awake, thinking about the story behind the buttons. Maybe they were someone's buried treasure, never meant to be found until a map was drawn. Or maybe they were buttons off a toy from another child who sought refuge from her parents in the woods. The buttons made my young mind think harder than it had ever thought before, and they also made me treat Howard like I had never treated him before.

"I'm sorry Howard, don't leave," I said, stepping closer, but not close enough for him to see my watery eyes, "They're just stupid buttons, I'm sorry, I'm not mad at you."

Howard sat on the ground and opened the metal lunch pail. He pulled out a white napkin full of biscuits and a mason jar full of his mother's biscuit gravy. My mouth watered.

"Here," Howard said, making a placemat out of the napkin and scooting over to make room for me next to the tree.

As I ate, Howard reached into his pocket and pulled out four more silver buttons. He set them on the ground next to me. I was elated after worrying all morning that I wouldn't find more. Those silver buttons sitting in the dirt made me happier than I could remember being in a long while.

"What do you think they're from?" Howard asked.

I thought about all the possibilities that had run through my head, but choose, "I don't know," as the best answer.

"Maybe we can find out," He said, optimistically.

"How?" I asked, excited at the possibility.

"Maybe the library will have a book of buttons, or maybe Samuel from Wiltse's will know."

I wasn't so sure about the library having a book of buttons, but Samuel from Wiltse's General Store seemed like a good idea, he knew practically everything. Howard packed up his lunch pail, put the buttons in his pocket, and we headed into town. Our first stop was the Buckhannon Library because Howard was convinced they had a book of buttons. They didn't. Just a block from the library was Wiltse's General Store and Soda Shop, and the owner, Samuel Wiltse, was opening his doors as we walked up.

"Sodas for breakfast today, kids?" Samuel said jokingly as we took a seat at the counter.

"No, Sir," Howard said, pulling one button from his pocket, "we were just wondering if you could tell us anything about this button."

He held the button in his open hand and extended his arm across the counter.

Samuel picked it up and inspected it.

"Where'd you find this?" He asked, intrigued.

"In the woods," Howard said.

Samuel looked at it some more. Hmmph. He nodded his head.

"How many of these did you find?"

"We found fou-," I started.

"One," said Howard, then abruptly looked at me.

"I'll trade you a couple of sodas for this button," Samuel said.

"No, thank you," said Howard, "But do you know what the button is from?"

Samuel's eyes widened as he leaned in towards us, resting his elbows on the countertop. We leaned in, too, mimicking his excitement.

"You know, the French and Indian War was fought in Pennsylvania, not very far from here. It's said that two of the earliest settlers in Buckhannon were runaway soldiers, and this here looks to be a button from a soldier's uniform."

My imagination ran wild. I pictured a soldier running from battle, wounded, hiding behind the tall sycamore tree. Maybe he removed his jacket to tend to a wound, leaving it behind. Or maybe the soldier buried his uniform so it wouldn't be discovered. Maybe there were more buttons or more treasures buried in that very spot!

Howard jumped from his stool and grabbed my hand.

"Thanks, Samuel!" He hollered as we left.

Howard looked at the button in his hand as he walked us back to the library.

"We need to find out more about the French and Indian War!" He said.

After looking up the history of Buckhannon, West Virginia at the library, we found out that Samuel was right. Two brothers had fled the war in 1761, traveling the river south from Fort Pitt, and ultimately settling in what was now our home town of Buckhannon. We felt empowered holding a little piece of history in our hands, but we both knew it was our secret.