you blow the straw so it rolls.”
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” I said. “I told you to watch my finger.”
“But one detail I haven’t exactly figured out,” continued Sam, “is how to take The Book with us so we can get home whenever we want to.”
“You call that a detail?” said Fred.
“But I think the trick might be to just hang on to The Book right when that green time-traveling mist starts to swirl around.”
“It sounds almost too simple to be true,” I said.
“Sometimes the best ideas are the simplest,” said Sam. “The ancient Greek mathematician Archimedes discovered he could move the world with just a fulcrum, a long enough lever, and a place to stand.”
“Archy Meadies?” said Fred. “Wasn’t he a shortstop for the Cubs?”
Sam frowned.
Fred slapped him with his hat. “Just kidding, Mr. Brainpower. But what the heck is a fulcrum?”
Sam flipped over his math homework and drew on the back. “The fulcrum is the piece the lever rests on. You put the lever under a big object and over the fulcrum like this ...”
“... Pull down the lever. Big object pops up.”
“Fascinating,” said Fred with a yawn. “But let’s get back to time traveling. Where do we go next? Ancient Egypt? Outer space? The future?”
“Well, obviously,” said Sam, adjusting his glasses, “the farther back in time we go, the more impressive our things will be.”
“Oh, obviously,” said Fred.
“So if we go back to prehistoric times, we will be most impressive.”
“Oh, most impressive,” said Fred.
“Actually, for once, you make great sense,” I said to Sam. “I guess we were pretty stupid not to figure it out sooner.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Sam.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” said Fred. “Let’s pack up and head for the Stone Age.”
“So what should we take?” I asked.
“Weapons,” said Fred.
“Tools,” said Sam.
“What about magic tricks?” I asked.
“Weapons,” said Fred a little louder.
“Tools,” said Sam, a little louder.
“Hold it, you guys,” I said. “Let’s split up. Everybody take whatever you think is best from the house. We’ll meet back here in half an hour.”
“What about your mom?” said Fred. “I’m still in trouble for breaking your lamp.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “She won’t be home until five. It’s only four. We’ll take off for the Stone Age at four-thirty and be back at—”
“Four-thirty,” said Sam. “With plenty of time to finish homework for Mr. Dexter, and put everything back for your mom.”
We scattered. And 30 minutes later, we were standing in my room, loaded for time travel.
Fred held a slingshot and a barbecue fork. A Swiss army knife, a water pistol, and a Walkman hung from his belt. His pockets were stuffed with tapes, marbles, and stick matches.
Sam looked like a walking gadget store. Pens, can openers, potato peelers, scissors, thermometers, buckles, zippers, paper clips, safety pins, hammers, pliers, and a folding saw hung from every available belt loop and pocket.
I wore my magician’s top hat and filled my pockets with magic rings, my wand, flash paper, coins, scarves, ropes, and juggling balls. I held The Book with both hands.
I looked in the index for “Cavemen,” but found only “Cave painting—p. 123.”
“Time Warp Trio, prepare to meet your ancestors,” I said and flipped The Book open to page 123. There was a picture of a cave painting with a spiral of stars, moons, handprints, and three stick figures. And right on cue, the green time-traveling mist swirled around our feet.
“Hang on to that book,” said Sam.
“Sam, I have to hand it to you,” said Fred. “Most of the time you are an obnoxious know-it-all.” The mist rose to our necks. “But for once in your life, you’ve come up with a great idea.”
The mist closed over our heads and we were gone to the time before time.
THREE
T he dinosaur roared and shook the branches.
“Yeah, Mr. Great
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” I said. “I told you to watch my finger.”
“But one detail I haven’t exactly figured out,” continued Sam, “is how to take The Book with us so we can get home whenever we want to.”
“You call that a detail?” said Fred.
“But I think the trick might be to just hang on to The Book right when that green time-traveling mist starts to swirl around.”
“It sounds almost too simple to be true,” I said.
“Sometimes the best ideas are the simplest,” said Sam. “The ancient Greek mathematician Archimedes discovered he could move the world with just a fulcrum, a long enough lever, and a place to stand.”
“Archy Meadies?” said Fred. “Wasn’t he a shortstop for the Cubs?”
Sam frowned.
Fred slapped him with his hat. “Just kidding, Mr. Brainpower. But what the heck is a fulcrum?”
Sam flipped over his math homework and drew on the back. “The fulcrum is the piece the lever rests on. You put the lever under a big object and over the fulcrum like this ...”
“... Pull down the lever. Big object pops up.”
“Fascinating,” said Fred with a yawn. “But let’s get back to time traveling. Where do we go next? Ancient Egypt? Outer space? The future?”
“Well, obviously,” said Sam, adjusting his glasses, “the farther back in time we go, the more impressive our things will be.”
“Oh, obviously,” said Fred.
“So if we go back to prehistoric times, we will be most impressive.”
“Oh, most impressive,” said Fred.
“Actually, for once, you make great sense,” I said to Sam. “I guess we were pretty stupid not to figure it out sooner.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Sam.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” said Fred. “Let’s pack up and head for the Stone Age.”
“So what should we take?” I asked.
“Weapons,” said Fred.
“Tools,” said Sam.
“What about magic tricks?” I asked.
“Weapons,” said Fred a little louder.
“Tools,” said Sam, a little louder.
“Hold it, you guys,” I said. “Let’s split up. Everybody take whatever you think is best from the house. We’ll meet back here in half an hour.”
“What about your mom?” said Fred. “I’m still in trouble for breaking your lamp.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “She won’t be home until five. It’s only four. We’ll take off for the Stone Age at four-thirty and be back at—”
“Four-thirty,” said Sam. “With plenty of time to finish homework for Mr. Dexter, and put everything back for your mom.”
We scattered. And 30 minutes later, we were standing in my room, loaded for time travel.
Fred held a slingshot and a barbecue fork. A Swiss army knife, a water pistol, and a Walkman hung from his belt. His pockets were stuffed with tapes, marbles, and stick matches.
Sam looked like a walking gadget store. Pens, can openers, potato peelers, scissors, thermometers, buckles, zippers, paper clips, safety pins, hammers, pliers, and a folding saw hung from every available belt loop and pocket.
I wore my magician’s top hat and filled my pockets with magic rings, my wand, flash paper, coins, scarves, ropes, and juggling balls. I held The Book with both hands.
I looked in the index for “Cavemen,” but found only “Cave painting—p. 123.”
“Time Warp Trio, prepare to meet your ancestors,” I said and flipped The Book open to page 123. There was a picture of a cave painting with a spiral of stars, moons, handprints, and three stick figures. And right on cue, the green time-traveling mist swirled around our feet.
“Hang on to that book,” said Sam.
“Sam, I have to hand it to you,” said Fred. “Most of the time you are an obnoxious know-it-all.” The mist rose to our necks. “But for once in your life, you’ve come up with a great idea.”
The mist closed over our heads and we were gone to the time before time.
THREE
T he dinosaur roared and shook the branches.
“Yeah, Mr. Great
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