Leapholes (2006) by James Grippando Page B

flat, like a bookmark. Finally, Ryan said, "I don't see anything happening."
    "Put on your helmet," said Hezekiah.
    Ryan slipped the helmet on over his head. The instant he flipped down the visor, he did a complete double take. "Wow, cool!"
    "Told you," said Hezekiah.
    Ryan was watching the very same leaphole, but the helmet allowed him to see something entirely different. An orange halo had formed above the leaphole. It began to swirl, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Within seconds, the printed words on the open page began to rise into the air. They were caught up in the orange swirl like a miniature hurricane. Ryan's eyes widened with amazement. As the words continued to swirl, he began to feel a pull on his body. It was as if someone was trying to draw him into the book with a giant vacuum cleaner.
    "This is amazing!" shouted Ryan.
    "It's just the beginning," said Hezekiah.
    The swirling intensified, and the pull on Ryan's body became stronger. It took every ounce of his strength to keep his feet planted firmly on the floor. It was an unnerving sensation, the feeling of being on the verge of losing control over his own body. He was tempted to pull the helmet off, but it was as if Hezekiah could read his mind.
    "Stay with it, Ryan!" he heard the old man shout.
    Ryan resisted his impulse to bail out. He kept the helmet in place. The spinning orange swirl rose higher above the book. As it rose, it expanded. At first, it was no bigger than the book, itself. Then it was as large as the table. Then, in another flash of orange, the swirling took over the entire room. At that moment, Ryan felt his feet go out from under him.
    "What's happening?" he shouted.
    There was no reply, but somehow Ryan knew the answer. In the blink of an eye, it seemed that time was speeding past him. Ryan knew that he was moving, but it wasn't the feeling of moving from Point A to Point B in a car or a bus or even by airplane. He was moving along another plane, another dimension. He was surrounded by something. He was in some kind of tube. Not a tube of metal or glass. It was just an opening through which he could pass safely. Everything else that was out there, everything that was caught up in the orange swirl of confusion, would allow him to pass. It was exactly the way Hezekiah had promised it would be. The laws of nature had suddenly been rewritten to allow Ryan Coolidge to travel wherever he needed or wanted to go. Time was no longer a boundary.
    He was entering the leaphole.
    It would have been difficult for Ryan to pinpoint the exact moment, but in one inexplicable flash, the orange swirl was gone. The next thing Ryan knew, he and Hezekiah were speeding down a racetrack on the backs of thoroughbred racehorses. Flecks of mud from the clay track were flying up around them. Ryan was hanging on tightly, fearful that he might fall off. It took Ryan a minute or so to get his bearings, but he was in the middle of a tight pack of horses peeling around the final turn and entering the homestretch. The crowd in the grandstands was going wild. Jockeys in brightly colored uniforms were high in the saddles, giving their horses the whip. All except for one jockey--the one right beside Ryan. He was low in the saddle, doing nothing to encourage his horse to run faster.
    "That's Guy Contrada," shouted Hezekiah.
    "Who?" Ryan shouted back.
    "Contrada. He's riding the fastest horse in the race."
    "What in the world are we doing here?" Ryan had to shout at the top of his lungs to be heard above the thunder of horse hooves, the noise of the crowd.
    "It's in the book!" shouted Hezekiah.
    "What book?"
    "The law book. This is United States versus Winter, a big federal case back in the early 1970s. Guy Contrada was ridin g t he favorite, a thoroughbred called 'Spread The Word.' The horse was raring to go. But the jockey held back and threw the race so that his gambling buddies could make some money. 'Spread the Word' lost by twenty lengths."
    It suddenly made sense