Jack opened his eyesMorning light filled the tree house. He and Anniewere wearing their own clothes again.
"Home," said Annie, smiling. Jack looked out thewindow.
He saw their nice, cozy house in the distance, theirlawn, their sidewalk, their paved street.
"Life here is pretty easy compared to pioneer life,"said Jack.
'We're lucky," said Annie.
Jack reached into his bag and pulled out the smallslate.
"Our third writing," he said. He added the poem tothe list from the Civil War and the letter from theRevolutionary War.
"You did just what that poem says you should do,"said Annie.
"What do you mean?" Jack asked.
"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again," Anniesaid. "You kept trying to make friends with Jeb. In theend, you did.""I guess you're right," said Jack.
'We have to get only one more special writing forMorgan's library," said Annie.
"I wonder how that will help save Camelot?" saidJack.
Annie shrugged.
"It's a mystery," she said.
She and Jack looked around the tree house.
"Look--" Annie picked up a piece of paper lying inthe corner. She read aloud:
Come back early Wednesday morning~"Wednesday? Man, that's tomorrow!" said Jack.
"So?" said Annie. She started down the rope ladder.
"Not much time to recover;' said Jack, pulling on hisbackpack.
"Recover from what?" Annie said.
"The twister," said Jack.
"Oh yeah, I'd almost forgotten about that," saidAnnie.
Jack smiled.
Actually, the nightmare of the twister was fadingfrom his memory, too.
We must try to hold on to the good memories, MissNeely had said, and let go of the bad ones.
The kindness of Will and Kate, making friends withJeb, the courage of Miss Neely-- these memories, Jackthought, he would never forget. |