Adventures in Reading, Page 3

CHAPTER 3 The Cliff

  I was in the woods now and the lights from the building didn’t penetrate into the forest. My eyes adjusted pretty quickly, though. As I followed the others I noted that they were veering off in three separate directions. A pair of kids, teenagers probably, were heading left followed by several moms, all plump. (I’m not allowed to say fat.)

  Down the center trail went a bunch of girls. Now, finally, they were making noise, giggling. I felt I better stick with the guys so I went right. That meant I had to follow a guy in a soccer uniform. Good disguise, dog. But I could barely see who he was following.

  One last look behind and I knew I had just made it out of there in time. The spotlights were scanning everywhere. I turned and fell. Straight. Straight down. Straight down a slippery tube.

  If I wasn’t so scared I would have laughed and enjoyed the ride. It lasted a full minute – sixty microwave seconds – and I felt hotter and hotter. The sliding slowed as the tunnel evened out. I had to crawl out the last three feet.

  “Bazebahl, over here,” someone whispered. Who could know my name?

  “We’ve got a hard case here,” she said. She was an ageless woman, maybe thirty-five, maybe sixty. She looked a lot like every teacher at my school. Her nametag said ‘Mabel Jackson’ and I glanced down at my own chest to see that somehow I had a stick-on nametag, too. It said ‘Nick Bazebahl’ and had my picture, too. It was my school picture, the retake from last spring with my hair about as short as it’s ever been.

  When I looked up again I realized that the lady had just said something about a case.

  “A hard case?” I echoed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I couldn’t imagine what she meant.

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right, you’ll have a little trouble with your memory for a while. That’ll pass. Just follow me for now,” she said. “It’s almost midnight, we don’t want to be late.”

  Memory thing? Well, that sort of made sense. I could not in a million years figure out how I got here or what I was supposed to do. I must be experiencing some kind of memory blackout. Cool.

  I started following her. I wondered what we were going to be late for. And midnight? It was almost midnight? Awesome. I hope it’s a school night.

  The sky got more black. Suddenly there was a boom of thunder and lightning and the rain poured down in sheets. Miss Jackson led me to a high, rocky bluff and we crouched down and looked over. The straight river below held a steamboat trapped on a rock. With every flash our eyes registered the progress of a small raft that was heading directly toward the boat.

  “That’s Jim!” I shouted to Miss Jackson, as I wiped my eyes and face clear of the cold rain. I wondered how I knew it was Jim. Jim who?

  “Of course,” she answered. “And we’re here to save him and the little guy with him.”