Jim & Me Read Online Free PDF Page A

“You’ll see.”
    â€œHow can I see if I close my eyes?” he asked.
    â€œ Shhhh ,” I said. “Relax. I need to concentrate.”
    I closed my eyes and thought about Jim Thorpe. Soon I started feeling the slightest tingling sensation in my fingertips.
    â€œHey, I think I feel something,” Bobby said.
    â€œThat means it’s working,” I whispered.
    The tingles buzzed the fingers of my left hand, which were holding the card. I held it tightly so I wouldn’t drop it. After a few seconds, I could feel the tingling sensation moving up my wrist and along my arm. It reminds me of a cat’s purring.
    It was getting stronger, like a wave moving toward the shore.
    The tingles washed across my chest and down my legs.
    There was no stopping it now.
    I couldn’t drop the card if I wanted to.
    I could feel my body getting lighter.
    Molecule by molecule, I was vanishing from the present day.
    My whole body was vibrating.
    I wanted so badly to open my eyes and watch myself disappear, but I didn’t dare.
    And then, finally, the wave crashed against the sand. We were gone.

6
Wrong Place, Wrong Time
    â€œ WATCH OUT !” BOBBY SCREAMED .
    I opened my eyes just in time to see a ball flying right at my head. But it wasn’t a baseball. It was about the size of a beach ball. It was black, and it was hanging from a long rope.
    Bobby gave me a shove and knocked me over. The ball missed my ear by an inch or two and slammed into a concrete wall behind us. The wall toppled over with a crash, sending pieces of concrete and dust everywhere. I shielded my eyes in case anything else was going to come flying in my direction.
    â€œAre you okay?” I asked Bobby.
    â€œYeah,” he replied. “Where are we?”
    I looked around, but all I could see were rocks and dirt and rubble everywhere. Oh, no. We must have landed in the middle of another war. But which one?
    Then I saw a sign off to my right:
    Â 
    FUTURE SITE OF LOS ANGELES COUNTY HOSPITAL
    Scheduled for completion January 1, 1932
    Â 
    It wasn’t a war. We had landed in the middle of a construction site. The ball that had come flying at me was a wrecking ball. They were knocking something down and building a hospital.
    Bobby Fuller, of all people, had saved my life.
    â€œYou screwed up, Stoshack!” he yelled, brushing the dust off his pants.
    â€œDon’t blame me !” I yelled right back. “This was your stupid idea.”
    I had to figure this thing out. Jim Thorpe had been in the 1912 Olympics. We were probably in 1931, so it was probably long after his athletic career was over. He had to be retired by now. We messed up somehow. We were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
    I looked at Bobby’s Jim Thorpe card, which was still in my hand. I wished I had examined the card more closely before using it. It didn’t look like the style of the cards that were printed at the beginning of the twentieth century. Now, I realized, the card wasn’t an original from Jim Thorpe’s playing days. It was one of those reprints they issue years later. I have some of them in my collection. This one must have been printed in 1931.
    â€œI know what happened,” I told Bobby.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI can’t just use any old baseball card,” I told him. “I have to use one from the year I’m trying to get to. I always travel back to the year on the card. This card is a reprint from 1931.”
    â€œ Now you tell me!” Bobby shouted. “How was I supposed to know that? Do you think I’m a mind reader?”
    â€œOh, shut up!” I said. Man, was he annoying.
    â€œYou shut up!” Bobby replied. “Let’s get out of here before we get killed.”
    Fine with me. I had better things to do with my time than hang around construction sites in 1931 with Bobby Fuller. I pulled out the new pack of baseball cards I’d stashed in my jeans pocket so we could go