Lost in the Tunnel of Time by Sharon M. Draper Page A

“Monday it was the jelly’s fault, Tuesday it was my mum’s fault, and Wednesday it was my new kitten’s fault!”
    â€œHow do you figure?” asked Rico.
    â€œIt’s simple, mon. Somehow, when I made my bologna and jelly sandwich on Monday, the jelly jumped up, landed on my math homework, and made my paper stick to the bottom of my book bag! The next day, my mum washed my favorite blue jeans with my science homework in the back pocket.”
    â€œI know you’re gonna tell us,” said Jerome with a grin, “but how did the kitten lose your homework?”
    â€œShe didn’t lose it, mon—she attacked it!”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThere’s a reason I named that crazy kitten Jungle Kitty. She runs around the house acting like she’s a lion or tiger, and attacking dangerous creatures like shoes and pieces of paper.”
    â€œWhat if she saw a mouse?” asked Rashawn.
    â€œShe’d probably run the other way, mon,” Ziggy said, laughing. “But she really had fun beating up my homework paper that night!”
    â€œDid Jungle Kitty get last night’s history homework too?” Jerome asked.
    â€œNo way, mon. This one was too important. It tried to hide from me, but I knew where it was all the time. There’s no way I’m gonna miss that field trip!”
    Mrs. Powell, their teacher, was taking them on an all-day field trip to the Ohio River. Only the students who turned in their homework would be allowed to go, so Ziggy and the rest of the class had been extra careful to have it ready.
    Jerome was shorter than Rashawn, but was strong and tough-looking. His face was brown and leathery, like the bomber jacket he wore every day.He checked his book bag for his homework, and grinned at the other boys. “This is gonna be an awesome field trip—lunch on the riverbank and a boat ride!”
    â€œYou got that right,” replied Rico. He was neatly dressed in dark blue pants and a light blue shirt. His coffee-colored, smiling face was surrounded by thick, curly brown hair. His book bag, unlike the other boys’, was neat and organized. His history homework was always in his green history folder, and his math homework was always in his blue math folder. He liked to draw pictures of houses and kept those drawings in a special red folder—he said one day he’d like to be an architect.
    Mrs. Powell came around the corner just as the bell rang to begin class, jiggling keys and balancing a coffee cup on a large stack of papers.
    â€œLooks like I made it just in time,” she called out cheerfully. “I was making last-minute plans for our trip,” she explained as she unlocked the classroom door. “Now where did he go? He was right behind me.”
    â€œWho?” asked Jerome.
    â€œOh, there he is! Come on in, Mr. Greene. Welcome to our classroom.”
    Mr. Greene walked slowly around the corner. He was almost bald, with wisps of curly, gray hair, and golden copper, slightly wrinkled skin. His dark eyes twinkled as he saw Rico, Rashawn, Jerome, and Ziggy standing in the hallway, staring in surprise.
    â€œWell, if it isn’t the Black Dinosaurs!” said Mr. Greene with a chuckle. “Good to see you again!”

“HEY, MR. GREENE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, mon?” asked Ziggy.
    â€œYour teacher asked me to go along on your field trip today,” replied Mr. Greene with a smile.
    â€œWhy would an old dude like you want to go on a trip with a bunch of kids?” Rico asked.
    â€œJust wait and see,” whispered Mr. Greene with mystery in his voice. “But tell me about you—have you had any meetings of the Black Dinosaurs lately?”
    The Black Dinosaurs was the name of the club that Ziggy, Rashawn, Rico, and Jerome had started that past summer. They had built a clubhouse inZiggy’s backyard, and Mr. Greene had helped them solve a mystery about a buried box of