Read Online Book One of the Travelers by D.J. MacHale - Free Book Online Page B

group of small boys huddled around the work site, watching in awe as a crane hoisted supplies to the upper stories.
    â€œIt’s going to be a while yet before it’s done,” a man beside Gunny commented. “Ambrose Jackson is doing mighty well for himself.”
    â€œHope he’ll have some tenants for all those new office spaces,” Gunny said, watching in fascination as several workmen walked expertly along girders high above him. “Must be a real optimist.”
    Despite the Depression still raging around them, Ambrose Jackson managed to acquire properties. Ambrose didn’t live in the neighborhood, but everyone seemed to know him anyway.
    How does he do it ? Gunny wondered. So many people were struggling, but Jackson kept starting new enterprises.
    Gunny turned to go. Suddenly he was body-slammed so hard the breath was knocked out of him. He flung out his hands and grabbed on to the person who hadrammed into him, trying to steady himself. He looked into the very angry face of Jeffrey Wright Jr.
    â€œJunior!” Gunny exclaimed. “Where’s the fire?” Junior was the sixteen-year-old son of Jeffrey Wright Sr., the drummer in Jumpin’ Jed’s band. Gunny had known the boy for years. Junior was the spitting image of his father, with his short dark hair, almond-shaped eyes, and deep cocoa skin. His eleven-year-old sister, Delia, looked more like her mother.
    â€œLet go of me, old man!” Junior wriggled out of Gunny’s grip and tore down the sidewalk.
    Gunny glared after Junior as he vanished into the crowd. “Flighty kid,” Gunny grumbled. “No respect.”
    â€œJunior!” a woman called. “Junior Wright, you get back here this instant!”
    Gunny turned and saw Mrs. Wright standing with Delia.
    â€œEvening, Mrs. Wright, Delia,” Gunny said as he approached them. “I see Junior is in a lather over something.”
    Mrs. Wright had a hand on her hip and a frown on her face. “I’m so sorry, Gunny,” she said, embarrassment coloring her dark cheeks. “He shouldn’t behave like that.”
    â€œIt’s the age,” Gunny said. “With luck, he’ll outgrow it.”
    Mrs. Wright laughed. “I hope Delia never grows into it then!”
    â€œMama.” Delia rolled her dark brown eyes.
    â€œWhat has him so fussed?” Gunny asked.
    Mrs. Wright sighed. “He and his father had a fight.”
    â€œAgain,” Delia added.
    Mrs. Wright gave the girl a warning look, as if she didn’t want family business to be so public. Then, changing the subject, she asked, “What brings you uptown?”
    â€œI’m here to see Jed Sweeney, upstairs.”
    â€œOh, you missed him,” Mrs. Wright said.
    That surprised Gunny. Jed was expecting him. “Do you know where he went?”
    â€œTry Marvin Halliday’s place,” Mrs. Wright suggested. “He was going that way.”
    â€œI’ll do that,” Gunny said.
    Is Jed checking up on the competition ? Gunny wondered as he headed toward the still-under-construction nightclub. The whole neighborhood was abuzz about Halliday building a rival club just a few blocks from Chubby Malloy’s Paradise.
    As soon as Gunny rounded the corner he knew something was wrong.
    The street was deserted. He had never seen a block so empty in Harlem—not ever.
    He moved forward slowly, his eyes scanning for an explanation for the uncommon stillness. During the Great War Gunny had learned silence could be a warning sign of something deadly—a trap, a recent slaughter.
    As he got closer, he saw shattered glass all over the sidewalk. The Blue Moon’s front window was smashed.
    Not good.
    His feet made crunching sounds as he crossed to the door. Standing to one side, his back against the wall of the building, he tapped the door lightly. It swung open easily. No response from inside. He cautiously stepped into the dark bar.
    Even in