Rebecca knew a lot more about life than most children do. Rebecca, being the eldest of three children, had a lot of experience with young kids. She was kind and accepted the challenges that everyone must face now and then. What she did not know was that something huge was coming, something that would change four children’s friendships forever. Fred Lipto adjusted his Harry Potter glasses before finishing the last (and hardest) problem on his ninth-grade algebra test. Fred was in fourth grade. He was a math wiz with freckles, and a good sense of humor. He was Rebecca’s best friend and had known her since kindergarten. He was also the co-author of Stonehedge, a book he and Sarah (a girl who I will mention later) are currently writing. Fred’s pen name is Flying Duck. Sarah Hinkle flexed her fingers and sharpened a fresh, number 2 pencil before looking down in her notebook to do a final edit of the story she had been working on for months. Sarah was an author, a lover of books, a critic, and a lover of comfortable shoes. She treasured green eyes, black hair, black cats, and Harry Potter movies (as well as the books). She was Rebecca’s good friend and never missed a chance to cheer people up with her lively ways and sharp mind. She played the violin, as well as the piano, and her two favorite quotes were, “Great minds think alike” (she said that to Fred a lot) and “Winners are losers and losers are winners” (she said that to George a lot). For your information, George is the fourth friend. Sarah’s pen name is Keylock Sniders. “George Wiles, put that video game down and do something useful!” hollered George’s mother. “Good luck,” they all said, “and goodbye” George Wiles reluctantly put down his control and turned off the X-Box he had gotten for Christmas. He had been at the height of the game where Mario was about to get out of the Yube, get back his star charts, and enter the secret chamber! He walked outside and helped his sister, Madison, haul the disgusting garbage cans out of the garage and onto the sidewalk. His neighbor, Robert Mettla, was doing the same thing. When he went back inside, he recaptured the moments in school that day. The class had loved the new (and improved) “Ember Tyke and Breezy Baby” story that he wrote. Ah, life was perfect for George, or so he thought. Wham! The door slammed as a tired Mr. Decker walked in. He settled himself in a chair and his wife brought him a steaming plate of macaroni and cheese, and, of course, a mug of boiling, hot coffee. As he stirred his dinner around in his bowl, he thought about his fourth-grade class, especially Rebecca Baits. She was a good student, a little on the shy side perhaps, but precise and clever. Three blocks away, Fred had put down his algebra book and was now nestled snugly in his favorite chair, eating rice and chicken. Two blocks away, Sarah was settling down to some steak and cucumbers after just submitting her latest story to Stone Soup magazine. At 36 Joseph Drive, George was scraping the last piece of pizza onto his dish. It was obviously pepperoni pizza, George’s favorite. On Baits Lane, Rebecca and her family were eating pasta, Rebecca’s favorite food. Her mother cleared her throat. “I’ve already told your siblings about this,” she began. “You are not going to like what I have to say. Guess what, Rebecca Baits? We’re moving.” Rebecca didn’t tell her friends immediately that in four short months she would have to move from Norwell, the only home she had ever known. A battle raged in her mind between enjoying her life and spending a carefree four months with her friends or giving her friends the time to get used to the idea that she was moving. She finally decided to tell them. Even though Fred was her closest friend, she told Sarah first. She had always been able to share a lot of things with Sarah, for she was a girl too. Sarah took it calmly but you could see the worry in her hazelnut eyes, and when she got home she destroyed her newest story (an act that her mother said was a disgrace). Sarah promised to let Rebecca break the news to Fred and George and swore she wouldn’t tell anyone else at school. Next, Rebecca told Fred. He jumped up and down and said he’d cut off his left arm if Rebecca moved. When he got home, he tried to snap his flute in half George’s turn! George went home and chucked his Play Station 2 out the window he was so mad. All of them were terribly angry but didn’t tell their parents anything. Rebecca pleaded with her parents, but they said they had to move because of their jobs. “Where are we moving to?” Rebecca questioned, but the answer was always the same. “We don’t know yet.” Rebecca was discouraged. Her friends tried to cheer her up but it was no use. She had known George since third grade, Sarah since second, and Fred since kindergarten. Rebecca had faced many challenges before but this was the worst. She didn’t know what she was going to do. Sure she was going to make new friends, but not like these. She would miss everyone in her class, especially her teachers, Mrs. Williamson and Mr. Decker. When she found out the day they were moving to Alabama, Rebecca immediately told her friends. On the day of the move, right before she got into the car, each of her three friends gave her a parcel. “Good luck,” they all said, “and goodbye.” Rebecca hopped into the car, and was driven away. In the parcels she found from Fred a little book that said “My Secrets” and a note that said, “In case you forget all the secrets
January/February 2007
Underground Man
Underground Man, by Milton Meltzer; Harcourt Children’s Books: New York, 2006; $17 Milton Meltzer’s Underground Man is a fictional but historically accurate account of life during the Civil War. Josh, a teenager, leaves his farm home to start a life of his own away from his parents. During his travels, he meets a runaway slave. Josh hears of the horrible conditions and the brutal treatment of slaves by their owners. After learning about this, Josh is inspired to become an abolitionist working to rescue blacks from slavery It is surprising that the hero in this book, Josh, is Caucasian. I learned many things about the brutal treatment of slaves and how horrible life was for them. I also learned many things about how abolitionists were detested and unpopular by the people of the southern states. Some specific things that Josh does to free slaves is buying them at auctions and then letting them free. He even puts himself in danger by helping slaves run away from their plantations and owners in the night. I had many reactions during the story One reaction was that I appreciated Josh’s will and determination to try and help prove that all humans should be treated equally. Josh experiences many things that I could relate to and you will probably too. Josh is confused about what he wants to do with his life. He begins to have disputes with his father over decisions that he makes for Josh. For example, Josh’s father secretly signs Josh up for a hat-making apprenticeship when he does not want to do this. One similar experience that I encountered just like Josh is when I have had my parents make me do things against my will. For example, when I wanted to quit an instrument but they made me keep on playing it. One interesting thing that I never knew was that abolitionists used signs. Josh uses many secret signs and simple objects to signal the people he will help. For example, he uses a blue handkerchief and a bent spoon to signify that help is on the way I can relate to this because even today in the army ordinary-looking things can signify operations and actions. Josh encounters important choices and decisions in this story I thought it was exciting to experience the many life-endangering adventures and quests that Josh encounters until he is captured by guards when he is helping a runaway slave to safety Thrown into jail with a long sentence hovering over his head a difficult choice must be made by him to continue his beliefs or quit them. As he thinks over his rights and wrongs surprisingly he has his jail sentence shortened. With the choice of a lifetime Josh must decide to accept his fate as an abolitionist or to stop believing in what is right. I was astonished to find out that this story is based on the true life of Calvin Fairbanks. He spent twelve years in jail for what he believed was right. I appreciate and am in awe of the determination and righteousness of this amazing man. Mason Grande, 10Glastonbury, Connecticut
The Time Magicians
Sunlight beamed onto Gareth Then’s face, forcing him awake. It was the morning after Gareth had arrived at his Uncle Turif’s cabin on the island of Belmopan. The cabin was in a clearing of the isolated Zel Forest, and Turif lived there alone. Gareth was there against his wishes. Dinner the night before had been a silent, simple meal of meat and greens, and his uncle had turned out to be cold and grouchy. But that wasn’t the worst of it: Gareth had seen Turif do Time Magic. As he lay in the chair that had been his bed, Gareth thought back to the day before, when Turif had used his Magic to speed up a tree in Time, causing it to age and then die in a minute. Gareth shuddered. Time Magic was believed to be evil. Gareth’s father, Seramon, always said that Turif was the black sheep of the family With cold eyes, Seramon would tell of the day he had found Turif practicing Time Magic, playing with Time itself. “Bad stuff, Time Magic is,” said Seramon. “Normal magic’s fine and all; it’s OK. Time Magic, though, well you want to keep clear of that. Messing with Time, you never can tell what’s going to happen.” Luckily for Seramon, Turif was one of the few Time Magicians left in the known world, if not the only one. Then, everything stopped. Except for Turif and Gareth, the world was frozen Gareth stretched, and listened for any telltale sound that Turif was awake. He heard nothing, and tiptoed across the hall into the kitchen to find something to eat; he decided upon a juicy red apple. He bit into it as he tiptoed back across the kitchen—colliding with the scowling Turif. “Stealing now, are we?” said Turif dryly, stepping past Gareth and into the kitchen. He grabbed a loaf of bread for himself. “I- I… Gareth stood there, looking at the apple. “I wasn’t trying to steal, U- Uncle. I was just… hungry.” Turif snorted, munching on the bread. “Well, that apple’s your breakfast, boy,” said Turif. He walked outside into the clearing, calling, “Follow me.” Turif sat on the trunk of a fallen tree, and motioned for Gareth to do the same. “Boy,” he said, taking a deep breath, “you have potential.” “What?” Turif sighed. “Has your father told you nothing?” he muttered. The boy blinked. “You’re a Time Magician. Well, not a Time Magician in full,” frowned Turif, considering. “Wait,” said Gareth. “I’m…” he coughed, “I’m a Time Magician?” “Are you listening, boy?” hissed Turif “You have the potential to become one! And I’m going to make sure that that potential is fulfilled.” “I- I don’t understand.” Turif stood up and began to pace in irritation. “With my help, you can become a Time Magician,” he said slowly and with a calm that threatened to break at any second. “Then you and I will be the only two Time Magicians in the world.” “Well, do I have to be one?” asked Gareth, not fully comprehending the situation. Turif roared with irritation. He swung his hand in the air, causing the fleeting sound of a stream. Then, everything stopped. Except for Turif and Gareth, the world was frozen. Butterflies were suspended in the air. The wind ceased to blow, and the birds were silent and held unnaturally still. “That,” said Turif quietly, “is what you will do when I finish with you.” Gareth understood. Still, he was divided. Part of him wanted to accept Turif’s offer, wanted the power of Time Magic. The other heard the echo of his father’s voice: “Bad stuff, Time Magic is… ” As the clearing around him came back into motion, Gareth worried that Seramon was right. Turif was interfering with Time itself, and although it was amazing, it was also terrible. “Sorry” replied Gareth, “but I can’t be a Time Magician.” Turif stared at him. “I’m not asking you if you want to,” he said, anger edging his voice again. “You will be a Time Magician: When I die, the art of Time Magic will die with me if you aren’t. And I’m not about to let that happen.” Without waiting for a response from Gareth, he stood. “Your lessons will begin now.” Gareth began to argue, but Turif’s glare made him decide to cooperate, for now. “First, you must learn about The River of Time,” Turif said. “It is everywhere, always there, always flowing. Normally, The River flows at a certain speed, and everything is drawn along with it. All Time Magic really does is manipulate it. “What a Time Magician needs to do is change The River’s speed. If you can make it go faster, Time goes faster. And vice versa. You can also make it stop flowing. The only thing you cannot do to The River is reverse it. You cannot go back to the past. “People around the Magician, even those who are not Magicians themselves, hear The River flow when Time Magic is used.” “That’s what I heard yesterday when you sped up the tree!” exclaimed Gareth, excited despite himself Turif nodded, and continued. “You never change all of the river. That would take enough power to kill a Magician. What you have to do is manipulate parts of it. For instance, when I stopped Time just now, Time outside of the clearing didn’t stop moving. And we weren’t frozen in place. “Time Magic can also have disastrous results. For instance, if I had let Time escape my control it could have frozen the entire forest. Time Magic can be very dangerous. “And now it’s time for you to try feeling The River.” Gareth admitted that Time Magic sounded amazing, but he remembered what Seramon had said. He would pretend to go along, and maybe Turif would forget the whole thing. “Sit still,” said Turif “Close your eyes. Don’t move. Don’t talk. Don’t even think. Try to feel The River flowing around you.” Gareth did as he
