Secret of the Time Capsule by Joan Lowery Nixon Page B

written about the armistice that had been signed at the end of World War I on November 11. And there’s a journal with the history of Redoaks written by the members of the Ladies’ Lawn Tennis, Sewing Circle, and Historical Society. I bet Mrs. Helen Hemsley was president, even way back then.”
    Thinking about bossy Mrs. Hemsley, Sean burst out laughing. It took a minute before he could go on. “There’s a letter praising Redoaks’s citizens written by California’s governor in 1918—William D. Stephens—to Mayor Williford. And there are lots of photographs, and the fourth graders’ letters, and something from Mayor Williford that just says, ‘My gift to the city I love.’”
    “What is the gift?” Brian asked.
    “It doesn’t say.”
    “The reporter should have asked Councilman Williford. His grandfather probably told him what it was.”
    Sean put down the newspaper. “There’s nothing in the story about anything that could be dangerous,” he said.
    Brian turned from the sink. “Dangerous? What are you talking about?”
    “What Boris Vlado told Matt.” Sean went on to recount the conversation he hadn’t remembered to tell earlier.
    “This Mr. Vlado said there was something dangerous in the capsule?” Brian asked. “I wonder if he was talking about explosives.”
    “Matt said Mr. Vlado is scary and talks about a lot of weird stuff, like seeing UFOs,” Sean said, but he surprised himself by shivering. “Bri, what if there really is something dangerous in that capsule?”
    “That’s something we’d better find out before it’s opened,” Brian said.
    “How?”
    Brian dried his hands on the dish towel and reached for his backpack. “Come on. Get your books. Ask Matt where Boris Vlado lives. After school you and I are going to pay him a visit.”
    Sean got Mr. Vlado’s address from Matt and the list of 1918 fourth graders from Mrs. Jackson.
    “Only eight names?” he asked in surprise.
    “Redoaks was a very small community at that time,” Mrs. Jackson said. “Do you think you can track them down?”
    Sean smiled. “One down, seven to go.”
    Debbie Jean could hardly wait until after roll had been taken to make her announcement.
    “My father volunteered to help build one of the floats in the parade,” she said. “He promised to let me ride on it as Miss Fourth-Grade Redoaks! I’ll wear a gorgeous costume and probably a crown, and wave to everyone in the crowd.”
    The other girls in the class started oohing and squealing, but Sean mumbled, “Yuck!” and slid down in his seat. Sometimes girls were weird.
    Matt leaned across the aisle and said, “Sean, if it’s okay with you, Jabez and I won’t go with you and Brian to see Mr. Vlado. The guy’s too creepy.”
    “Huh! You’re some friends,” Sean said.
    “We are friends, and if you had to go alone we’d go with you. Honest. But you said Brian will be there, and he’s thirteen. He’s a lot better protection than we’d be.”
    “Protection from what?” Cold shivers trickled up and down Sean’s backbone.
    “I—I didn’t say that right, I guess.” Matt shook his head. “Mr. Vlado wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. He’ll just tell you some scary stuff. And he looks scary. His eyes are kind of wild and—”
    Mrs. Jackson rapped on her desk. “Come to order, class. I want you to spend some time after school thinking about what you can tell the kids of the future in the letters you’ll be writing. Make a list of things we use in our daily lives, from alarm clocks to computers, and bring it to school tomorrow.” She opened a math book and added, “Right now, let’s see how well you do on a short quiz.”
    Brian and Sean rode their bikes over to Matt’s street and quickly found the house where Boris Vlado lived. It was set back from the street and surrounded by broad-limbed shade trees, but its mustard gold paint had faded and yellowed in streaks. On each side of the front door was a large pot of geraniums, but none of