Bungee Jump Read Online Free PDF Page A

as a chaperone,” Caitlin says.
    “Yeah, well, she didn’t need to rage about it to the principal,” I reply. “She’s really got a thing about no one visiting that place.”
    “You mean about not disturbing history,” Caitlin sings.
    “She’s a grump,” I say. “She chewed me out about my website. Like it’s any of her business.”
    “Well, you got some of the history from her.”
    “So what? It’s our property. And our website.”
    Caitlin makes a face, wags a finger and lowers her voice to imitate the librarian. “You wrote things people don’t need to know! Plus, it’s not respectful enough.”
    “I thought she’d like that I included history in it.”
    “Chris! Caitlin!” Mr. Roth appears. “Hey, everyone, the Biggs are here! Everyone’s got their picnic lunch, right?”
    “Yes!” the kids shout, lifting water bottles and knapsacks and such.
    “Do we get to go on the bungee rope today?” Tom asks.
    “Next week,” I respond, drawing myself up proudly. “But you can see it from the picnic place.”
    A bunch of parents who’ve volunteered to take us on their boats are waiting for us at the dock. There are six boats in all, enough to take all the sixth-, seventh- and eighth-graders of our tiny school.
    “I want to go on the Thompsons’ cruiser!”
    “Please, can I go on the Smiths’ runabout?”
    “We get the dinghy!”
    “That rowboat’s only going to take four!”
    “Do we have to wear lifejackets?”
    “Hey, stop pushing!”
    “Chris,” Tom calls out. “Come in our boat!”
    “Thanks!” I climb into Tom’s parents’ eight-passenger ketch and smile at his dad, who’s operating it. Mr. Roth and half a dozen kids clamber aboard too. Including Caitlin, Bella and Anya.
    On the way across the channel, an eagle flies overhead. Everyone points and starts talking at the same time. Soon we come within view of the pipe bridge. A couple of kids get so excited, they lean over the railings.
    “Stand back and settle down!” Tom’s dad orders, and they do.
    “It’s like shiny new!” Tom exclaims. He hasn’t seen the pipe since he and I snuck up and crawled along it months ago. His parents grounded him when they found out.
    “It’s so high,” says Bella with big, frightened eyes.
    “Is that diving-board thing where we jump from?” Anya asks, pointing to the newly installed platform.
    “Of course,” Caitlin tells her.
    “What if you land in the water?” a tall girl from my grade asks.
    “You can’t, because the rope stops you before then,” I say.
    The boat slows, and Mr. Roth leans over the side.
    “Craven, good morning. How are you? Catch anything this morning?”
    “How could I catch anything with you bunch stirring up the water?” Craven grumbles.
    “We’re on our annual school picnic,” Mr. Roth replies, his voice cheerful. “Join us if you like.”
    Craven looks confused. “Not on Thorn Island,” he rasps.
    “Yes, on Hospital Island,” Mr. Roth replies, nodding at Tom’s dad to carry on to shore. “The Biggs have generously given us permission.”
    Craven rises in his boat, causing it to rock. “Don’t you go there!” he roars.
    The younger students cower. The others look from Craven to Mr. Roth to Caitlin and me.
    “Don’t worry,” Mr. Roth says in a polite tone. “We won’t disturb anything. And we won’t leave any garbage behind. Right, kids? See you later, Craven. Have a good day!”
    The boats beach. Kids jump out and run to shore like soldiers on D-Day. They ignore Craven’s protests.
    “He’s not having a very good day, is he?” Mr. Roth says to me, smiling reassuringly. “But we’re going to have a super picnic anyway.”
    The adults keep the kids from wandering into the ruins. Probably just as well, since Craven beaches his boat and keeps watch from the shore. We spread blankets on a rise, and someone pulls out a Frisbee. We toss that around and play some games. Someone points out a family of otters in the water.
    “Time to