Читать книгу The Great Laundry Adventure - Margie Rutledge - Страница 7

Over eighty years and thousands of miles passed in a flash. The children didn’t realize they were home until they heard their father’s voice boom down at them: “Out of the laundry, you three. You’re going to break these baskets, and then where would we be?”

The children could have said “in Texas,” but they didn’t. They didn’t say anything.

The father found it a bit peculiar his children didn’t rise to the bait of an argument, but the change was refreshing, and he decided not to comment on it.

“Is supper ready?” asked Ernest.

“Supper? You just had breakfast,” replied the father.

“What time is it, Daddy?” asked Jacob.

“It’s about ten-thirty,” answered the father.

“Ten-thirty!” the three responded altogether. They had spent hours with Aline, but time hadn’t passed at all in Toronto.

“That’s very interesting,” said Jacob as he and Abigail looked at each other, realizing that time travel worked in life as it often did in books: present time stopped while children traipsed through the past (or the future).

“What have you kids been up to?” asked the father.

“Oh, you know, playing a game,” said Abigail, trying to sound casual.

“Well, it’s time to get dressed. And stay out of the laundry!” The father picked up the basket full of dirty clothes and started awkwardly down the hall to the stairs.

The basket was large and very heavy, and the children noticed a certain radiance to the wicker they hadn’t noticed before. It was as if there was a soft light shining inside the basket. The other twelve baskets in the bedroom had started to glow with that same soft light.

“What do you think that means?” asked Abigail.

“I don’t know,” replied Jacob.

“It’s magic!” announced Ernest.

“Laundry magic,” said Abigail. “It’s nothing like the books, though.”

“I liked being with Mema,” said Jacob.

“So did I. But it was different from wrestling coyotes,” said Ernest.

“Wrestling coyotes!” Abigail and Jacob said together as they rolled their eyes.

“E. Nesbit always had someone to explain the magic, the Phoenix or the Psammead,” said Abigail.

“This is life,” reminded Jacob.

“The monkey explained it all to me,” said Ernest.

“But you forget things,” said Jacob.

“You get confused,” said Abigail.

“I love laundry!” shouted Ernest, dumping out one of the baskets.

“Not so loud!” snapped Abigail.

“I love adventures, even apron adventures!” said Ernest, not shouting but doing a version of the backstroke through the laundry he’d dumped.

“Don’t be so annoying. And you’re making a big mess. I’m not cleaning it up.” Jacob hated tidying up after Ernest.

“Why did Mema see us when the others didn’t?” wondered Abigail, settling into the rocking chair.

“She has to believe in us,” suggested Jacob, who was perched on the edge of the bed. “We’re her descendants.”

Ernest, who’d stopped doing the backstroke and looked now as if he were simply floating on the sea of laundry, added: “Believers in the future.”

“The weird thing is she didn’t see us at first. She had to be alone to notice us,” said Jacob.

“What does it all mean?” asked Abigail.