The Time Travel Machine

Emma Biddington tried to keep her eyes open in history class. That was the truth. But history could be so boring, and well, a nap seemed so appealing. Her fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Cocker, was talking about world history, when:

“Emma?”

Emma’s eyes fluttered open. “Yes, Mrs. Cocker?” she wished she had been awake for the last half-hour.

“What time period are we learning about?” Mrs. Cocker’s eyes sparkled, as if she knew Emma had been asleep.

“Uh-well-um….The Medieval Times?” Nope. “The silk road?”

Mrs. Cocker shook her head no. “We have been learning about Ancient Egypt for the past week.”

Oops. There goes that A+, Emma thought to herself. She looked back up at Mrs. Cocker and sighed.

When school was out, Emma said good-bye to her friends, and walked down the pavement to her house. It was a considerably long trip there, so Emma planned what she was going to do when she got home. #1: Eat a snack. #2: Go outside in the woods and play. #3: Do homework until dinner.

The plan was a pretty good one, and Emma knew it. But when she finally reached her big, brick house, she wondered if her plan would go as, well,  planned. “I’m home, Mom!” she yelled.

Mrs. Biddington stepped out of her bedroom.

“Oh, hi, Honey. I’m glad you’re home,” she said with a smile. “But we have something to chat about.” Emma didn’t have to ask what they were going to talk about, because she knew. It was about history. And naps.

“So, Emma, I’ve heard that you’ve been taking naps during history. Is that true?” her deep blue eyes searched Emma’s face.

“Yes,” answered Emma.

“That’s not acceptable, Sweetheart. I know you can do better than this.” Mrs. Biddington waved a report card in front of Emma. “A -C is not you’re best work.”

“Ok, Mom. I’ll try harder.” Emma said. She etched a large X on her chest. “Cross my heart.” Mrs. Biddington smiled at her daughter and kissed her lightly on the head.

“Ok, you can go now,” she said with a smile. “Just don’t forget to do your homework!”

Emma took the report and walked aways away. Then she read the note that Mrs. Cocker had written in her swirly, cursive handwriting: Emma is a very imaginative student. But, she does lack attention, and judging by her test scores, she can do better. Emma nodded. That was true.

After her snack of graham crackers and peanut butter, Emma walked out into the woods. As she practiced keeping her balance on a log, though, she noticed something she had never seen: a tall, box-like object that was spitting sparks. On the outside of a door were the words, “Time Travel Machine”.

To be continued…

 

 

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