revered Paul’s, ha ha.” No one laughed at the pun on “Revere” and Greene went on with a hint of disappointment on his face. “So Rodney’s ride to cast Delaware’s vote for independence was put on its commemorative coin. Ever since 1999, Rodney’s riding crop has had magical powers for some reason. I like to think it has historical powers gained on the ride for independence. Or perhaps it is the power of a United States commemorative coin.”
“Wow!” said Victor Bridges. He had never thought that a commemorative coin might have some magical power.
Mr. Greene is wacko, Minerva thought.
“Buckle up, students,” he warned before touching the riding crop to the map. He held onto a lectern that was bolted to the floor.
The classroom began to shake. Mary and Charles Beard floated merrily about the classroom, dashing in and out of the students, whose desks remained shakily bolted to the floor of the trailer. The ghosts stared a moment at Minerva Messinger, then nodded to each other. They floated up to either side of Minerva’s face and planted ghostly kisses on both of Minerva’s cheeks.
“Helppppp!” Minerva yelled.
Bette Kromer was rattling back and forth in her desk. “Buck up, Messinger,” she called. “It’s not the kiss of death because they’re already dead!”
The other students laughed. Minerva quickly recovered, and the laughter ceased. The Beards began to whirl about and spin counterclockwise, like ghostly spinning tops, until their images disappeared, only to reappear a moment later dressed in colonial period costumes, Mrs. Beard’s transparent image sporting a hairdo that resembled a beehive atop her head. So that was what it was supposed to look like, Minerva Messinger realized as she evaluated the ghost. Mom, she said to herself, you should be here. This isn’t just nuts, this is cashews! This is right up your alley.
The shaking in the portable classroom slowed and then stopped. Minerva scanned the bulletin board. Where was the Dunlap broadside of the Declaration of Independence? It had disappeared.
As if he were reading Minerva’s mind, Greene spoke up as the trailer came to a halt. “Look, students,” he said, pointing to the bulletin board. “The broadside is gone. What happened to it?”
Bette Kromer’s hand went up.
“Yes, Bette?
“It hasn’t happened yet. It’s not the 4 th ; it is the 2 nd .”
“Yes!” Greene replied. He moved to the classroom door and cracked it open, holding up Caesar Rodney’s riding crop. As a breeze from 1776 entered the classroom, Minerva Messinger watched in disbelief as the riding crop disappeared.
“Mr. Greene, the riding crop!” Victor Bridges shouted.
“Yes,” Mr. Greene said evenly. “I believe Mr. Rodney is using it at present, as he is riding to Philadelphia from Delaware at this very moment. We shall need to retrieve the crop later today to return. He may throw the riding crop into the air like a bride tossing her bouquet, so we will have to catch it. Open the shades please, Victor,” he added as he went to the computer and typed in some commands.
Victor nodded to the Anderson twins to help him and each boy rolled up a window shade.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Greene said with a theatrical bow and a swirl of his tri-corner hat. “I give you Philadelphia on the morning of July 2, 1776.”
Actually, they had landed in a summer wheat field on the outskirts of the town, a half-mile from his intended landing spot, but the appreciative History Channelers applauded Mr. Greene. Even Minerva Messinger joined in clapping, although she was still too startled to appreciate the reality that lay just beyond the walls of the portable classroom and the summer wheat field in which the portable classroom had landed: the city of Philadelphia in 1776.
Chapter 3
“Okay people, let’s go over the ground rules quickly,” Mr. Greene said, waving his cane for emphasis. “The portable will only be here for five minutes. Back at school
“Wow!” said Victor Bridges. He had never thought that a commemorative coin might have some magical power.
Mr. Greene is wacko, Minerva thought.
“Buckle up, students,” he warned before touching the riding crop to the map. He held onto a lectern that was bolted to the floor.
The classroom began to shake. Mary and Charles Beard floated merrily about the classroom, dashing in and out of the students, whose desks remained shakily bolted to the floor of the trailer. The ghosts stared a moment at Minerva Messinger, then nodded to each other. They floated up to either side of Minerva’s face and planted ghostly kisses on both of Minerva’s cheeks.
“Helppppp!” Minerva yelled.
Bette Kromer was rattling back and forth in her desk. “Buck up, Messinger,” she called. “It’s not the kiss of death because they’re already dead!”
The other students laughed. Minerva quickly recovered, and the laughter ceased. The Beards began to whirl about and spin counterclockwise, like ghostly spinning tops, until their images disappeared, only to reappear a moment later dressed in colonial period costumes, Mrs. Beard’s transparent image sporting a hairdo that resembled a beehive atop her head. So that was what it was supposed to look like, Minerva Messinger realized as she evaluated the ghost. Mom, she said to herself, you should be here. This isn’t just nuts, this is cashews! This is right up your alley.
The shaking in the portable classroom slowed and then stopped. Minerva scanned the bulletin board. Where was the Dunlap broadside of the Declaration of Independence? It had disappeared.
As if he were reading Minerva’s mind, Greene spoke up as the trailer came to a halt. “Look, students,” he said, pointing to the bulletin board. “The broadside is gone. What happened to it?”
Bette Kromer’s hand went up.
“Yes, Bette?
“It hasn’t happened yet. It’s not the 4 th ; it is the 2 nd .”
“Yes!” Greene replied. He moved to the classroom door and cracked it open, holding up Caesar Rodney’s riding crop. As a breeze from 1776 entered the classroom, Minerva Messinger watched in disbelief as the riding crop disappeared.
“Mr. Greene, the riding crop!” Victor Bridges shouted.
“Yes,” Mr. Greene said evenly. “I believe Mr. Rodney is using it at present, as he is riding to Philadelphia from Delaware at this very moment. We shall need to retrieve the crop later today to return. He may throw the riding crop into the air like a bride tossing her bouquet, so we will have to catch it. Open the shades please, Victor,” he added as he went to the computer and typed in some commands.
Victor nodded to the Anderson twins to help him and each boy rolled up a window shade.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Greene said with a theatrical bow and a swirl of his tri-corner hat. “I give you Philadelphia on the morning of July 2, 1776.”
Actually, they had landed in a summer wheat field on the outskirts of the town, a half-mile from his intended landing spot, but the appreciative History Channelers applauded Mr. Greene. Even Minerva Messinger joined in clapping, although she was still too startled to appreciate the reality that lay just beyond the walls of the portable classroom and the summer wheat field in which the portable classroom had landed: the city of Philadelphia in 1776.
Chapter 3
“Okay people, let’s go over the ground rules quickly,” Mr. Greene said, waving his cane for emphasis. “The portable will only be here for five minutes. Back at school
Similar Books
The Last Concubine
Catt Ford
Bearded Lady
Mara Altman
Clandestine
Nichole van
Secret Friends
Summer Waters
The Midwife
Jolina Petersheim
Vale of the Vole
Piers Anthony
Here to Stay
Catherine Anderson
In Limbo
E.C. Marsh
The Mummy
Max Allan Collins