The Book That Proves Time Travel Happens by Henry Clark & Terry Fan & Eric Fan

Author:Henry Clark & Terry Fan & Eric Fan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction / Action & Adventure / Survival Stories, Juvenile Fiction / Clothing & Dress, Juvenile Fiction / Historical / United States / Civil War Period (1850-1877), Juvenile Fiction / Humorous Stories, Juvenile Fiction / Social Issues / Prejudice & Racism, Juvenile Fiction / Science Fiction
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2015-04-13T16:00:00+00:00

HEXAGRAM 18

DECAY.

SPOILAGE. PUTRESCENCE. ALLROUND YUCKINESS. SOMETHING IS ROTTEN IN THE STATE OF DENMARK, AND YOUR OWN STATE ISN’T SMELLING ALL THAT SWEET, EITHER. SNIFF YOUR ARMPITS: IF THAT ISN’T THE SOURCE, FIND IT!

“Is there a hidden Morse code message?” I asked, pretty sure there would be.

Tom nodded.

“A dash and two dots, followed by a dot, then a dot and a dash, ending with a dash and two dots.”

“What does it spell?

“DEAD!”

CHAPTER 15

T for Torture

I got a shiver, thinking about how appropriate it was for a hexagram called Decay to contain the Morse code for dead. Tom was right; it wasn’t a coincidence.

“Is that it?” I asked Frankie. “Is somebody dead who shouldn’t be? When we were in the past, did we accidentally kill somebody without noticing? What if Chester died of fright when Mr. Ganto took him away? Getting grabbed by Mr. Ganto would have scared me to death. At the very least, I would have needed clean underwear. Or, what if that book they gave you”—I waved at Frankie’s backpack—“was supposed to save somebody’s life, and it didn’t because it wasn’t there when it should have been? Like, maybe someday somebody was supposed to be holding it, and it was supposed to stop a bullet?”

“I’m thinking it might be the opposite,” replied Frankie. “We didn’t accidentally kill anybody, but we did deliberately save somebody’s life. What if Dwina was supposed to die then, but because we saved her, she lived to do something—or her children went on to do something—that eventually caused all this?”

Her fingers typed furiously.

“Are you crazy?” I exploded. “That nice lady? How could she possibly do anything that could mess things up as bad as this? The best thing about our trip was saving her! I’d do it all over again if I had to!”

“You’d probably even save Killbreath under the same circumstances,” Frankie said gently. “I’m beginning to see that’s the kind of person you are.”

“I wouldn’t put that to the test,” I said, not comfortable with a compliment coming from her.

She leaned in and squinted at a blurry PDF file.

“Okay—I did a search for Edwina Landry. The only thing that came up is a genealogical record from 1910.”

“Why Landry?” I asked.

Tom was quick to slip in the answer; it was right up his nineteenth-century alley.

“Because former slaves sometimes kept the last names of their onetime captors, and Dwina mentioned a Master Landry!”

“Yes,” Frankie agreed. “It was a long shot, but here it says Edwina and Seth Landry were married and had a daughter Rosella, who grew up to marry a man named David Stemplehill, and then Rosella and David had three daughters: Violet, Columbine, and—if you can believe it, Morning Glory. The record takes the family up to 1910, but beyond Morning Glory, the original document is too damaged to read.”

“Morning Glory Stemplehill!” I exclaimed, hardly able to believe it.

“You’ve heard of her?”

“My mother used to say that her favorite name of all her ancestors was Morning Glory Stemplehill! She was my mother’s great-great-great-something-grandmother,

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