Migrating to Michigan by Jeffery L Schatzer

Author:Jeffery L Schatzer
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781587266928
Publisher: Spry Publishing LLC

The Irish in Michigan

Mackinac Island—August 1840

When we got back to the professor’s office, he had to take a phone call.

“Yes, Sweetie Pie,” said the professor. “Everything’s just fine. No. No. Yes. He’s just fine. Well, yes, I did have to give him a talking to about wandering off, but he is safe and doing well. We are having a wonderful time together. Alright, I will see you this evening. Goodbye.”

“Was that your wife?” Rachel asked.

“Heaven’s no,” said Professor Tuesday, “that was Mister Adams’s mother.”

“But you called her Sweetie Pie,” Owen said.

The professor looked confused. “I called her that because that’s her name … Sweetie Pie.”

“So you are telling us that Mister Adams’s mother is named ‘Sweetie Pie’?” I asked.

“Why, yes,” said the professor.

“Your family has some weird names, Professor,” Owen said.

Professor Tuesday laughed out loud, “I guess we do at that.”

Rachel played tic-tac-toe with Mister Adams while the professor prepared for our next visit into history. Mister Adams won every game. Rachel wasn’t very happy about that. She likes to win. Owen was looking at a book about the Finns in Michigan. As he read the book, his lips moved with every word. That bugged Rachel, too.

Professor Tuesday’s glasses slipped to the end of his nose. As he tapped away at his keyboard, he stopped for a moment, then he looked up. “Owen, Rachel, Jesse,” he asked, “did you bring jackets?”

“My mother put a jacket in my backpack,” Rachel said. “It’s supposed to rain this afternoon.”

Owen shuffled over to his backpack and started fishing around inside of it. “Yah, I’ve got one.”

I showed the professor my jacket. “Why did you ask if we had jackets?”

“We’ll be heading to northern Michigan, and it’s usually colder there than it is here.”

Professor Tuesday made one last keystroke, then hit the ENTER key on his laptop. The Tuesday Teleporter started its display of light and sound. Then the green cloud formed at the end of the professor’s desk.

Before we stepped into the past, Professor Tuesday turned to his nephew. “Mister Adams, I talked to your mother a few minutes ago. She told me that if you are extra good this afternoon, she’ll make you spinach for dinner.”

Mister Adams got all excited. He started jumping up and down, clapping his hands.

“Euw-w-w-w,” Rachel squealed, “spinach. I hate spinach. He loves peanut-butter-and-jelly and pickle sandwiches, and he actually likes spinach.”

Professor Tuesday lifted his glasses slightly. “Spinach is very good for you. Mister Adams loves it. Spinach is a special treat for him.”

“He can have my share,” Owen said. “I don’t like it either.”

“We’re going to visit some immigrants who left their homeland to come to Michigan because they were starving. They would have been happy to eat spinach, even if they didn’t like it,” said the professor. He adjusted our translators before we put them on our ears. “Put your jackets on before we go.”

I felt sick to my stomach as I tumbled over and over through time. I thought to myself, “Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this right after eating all that spaghetti.

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