The Lost City of Faar tpa-2
Page 36
“Agreed,” said Courtney.
“Here’s what I’m thinking. It’s getting late. How about if we wait till tomorrow?”
“You’re kidding!” protested Courtney.
“I’m serious. Tomorrow’s Sunday. I’ll come over to your house real early, like eighta.m. We’ll go down to your father’s workshop and won’t come out until we’re finished.”
Courtney gave this some thought. “You promise not to read anything tonight?” she asked.
“Promise,” Mark said, crossing his heart.
“Okay, cool,” she said. “I’ll make some sandwiches. You bring chips. We’ll make it a marathon.”
“Excellent. I’ll bring the Dew, too,” Mark said with excitement.
“Whatever.” Courtney didn’t do the Dew.
“This is gonna be great!” Mark shouted.
The next day at 8a.m. sharp, Courtney’s doorbell rang. Courtney’s dad opened the door to see Mark standing there with a loaded grocery bag.
“Morning, Mark,” he said through sleepy eyes. “Going on a picnic?”
“Uh… no,” answered Mark. “Courtney and I are working on a school project in your basement. It’s gonna take all day so we need provisions.”
“Really?” said Mr. Chetwynde. “It’s August.” ”Right,” said Mark, thinking fast. “Summer school.”
“Courtney doesn’t go to summer school.”
“I know,” Mark said, mentally kicking himself for being such a lousy, uncreative liar. “I do.”
Mr. Chetwynde looked at Mark. Mark smiled innocently.
Mr. Chetwynde shrugged and yawned. “Whatever, c’mon in.” He stepped aside and Mark rushed in.
Mark knew exactly where to go. He and Courtney had used Mr. Chetwynde’s basement workshop as a private place to read Bobby’s journals many times before. Mr. Chetwynde had set up an entire workshop down there and never used it. He was a lousy do-it-yourself type guy. Mark and Courtney could be there all day, even on a Sunday, and never worry about anybody coming down.
Mark settled into the big, dusty couch as Courtney ran down the stairs. “Sandwiches are in the fridge,” she announced. “Ready when we need ‘em.”
She sat next to Mark on the couch as he pulled the four red-leather journals from his backpack. He put them down reverently on the low table in front of them. The two sat there, staring at the precious stack. Neither made a move to pick one up.
“This is kind of weird,” Mark finally said.
“Really,” agreed Courtney. “I’m excited and afraid at the same time. I’m dying to know what happened to Bobby, but what if it’s bad?”
The two fell silent, staring at the books.
“There’s something else,” added Mark thoughtfully. “This wholeFirstEarth thing makes me nervous.”
“Why?” Courtney asked.
“It’s like Saint Dane is coming closer. To us.”
“You don’t know that,” Courtney said quickly.
“No, but Second Earth is a territory like all the others. One day Saint Dane is going to come here, too. And when he does, we’re going to be doing more than just reading about it.”
“Unless Bobby and the Travelers stop him first, right?” Courtney asked hopefully.
Mark didn’t answer. He looked at the journals thoughtfully, then reached for the top one. “Let’s just read, okay?”
Courtney took a breath to calm down, then said, “Let’s try something different this time. We’ll read out loud to each other.”
Mark was secretly relieved. He was a faster reader than Courtney and always had to wait for her to catch up. This was the perfect solution.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” he said, and handed her the journal. “You first.”
Courtney took the journal and cracked open the cover. “We left off where Bobby and Spader flumed to Veelox, right?” she asked.
“Right,” answered Mark. He sank back into the couch, put a hand behind his head, got comfortable and said, “Go for it.”
Courtney turned to the page where they had left off the day before, and began to read out loud.
“A second later we were swept up by the light and sound and pulled into the flume. Next stop… Veelox.”
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