Read Online Edison's Gold by Geoff Watson - Free Book Online

Noodle’s house was way too tough a location, thanks to Mrs. Zuckerberg’s constant, parole officer–like monitoring of her son’s every move.
    And at Tom’s house, the packing tape and brown storage boxes were already starting to appear, and if there was a worse sight than that, he couldn’t think of it.
    â€œYou’re going to have to make a few choices about what comes with us and what stays behind.” Tom’s mother swung into his room as he quickly minimized his IM screen. “And you know what I’m talking about.” She meant his basement lab, of course—since a lot of his stuff might be termed “junk” by the less enlightened. Just the thought of starting a new lab in Wichita gave him the sweats.
    After cleaning up the family’s lunch dishes as part of his punishment, Tom set off into the clean spring air. He’d been making this walk to Colby’s, down Heath Street with a left onto Poplar, since he was seven years old.The idea that in a couple of weeks he’d never pass this way again was crushing. He knew every pothole and broken sidewalk stone as well as he knew his own face.
    Inside the tent they’d pitched in Colby’s backyard, Tom found Noodle sitting cross-legged, pecking away on his laptop, with a mountain of snacks, candy, chips, and soda cans splayed all around him.
    â€œI raided the pantry before I left,” he said as Tom zipped open the flap.
    â€œAwesome.”
    Tom didn’t waste a second tearing into a packet of chocolate chip cookies like a hungry bear. His mom kept the cupboard stocked with dried fruit leathers and organic wheat cereal that tasted like tree bark, so it was always fun to gorge himself whenever he got to sleep over at chez Zuckerberg.
    Tom was waiting for it, but Noodle had decided to avoid the subject of Wichita and concentrate instead on his laptop. Still, Tom saw that there were dark circles under his friend’s eyes, and he had a feeling Noodle’s sleep had been as bad as his.
    To temporarily distract himself from family moves and unsolvable treasure hunts, Tom had spent part of thenight sketching a prototype for his new spoon-shaped Q-tip—infinitely more effective for scooping out earwax than the regular kind, and an invention that might, if all else failed, put his family back on the map.
    â€œFind anything on the Sub Rosa or alchemy?” said Tom as he crumpled up and pitched the cookie wrapper before diving into some Doritos.
    â€œNo, but I did lay the vocals from
High School Musical Three
over the instrumentals off Lil Wayne’s new album. I’m calling it
Reform School Remixed
.”
    â€œReally helpful, Noodle.” Tom opened his backpack and pulled out all his research on
The Alchemy Treatise
and Teddy Roosevelt, plus the sun-and-moon riddle from the camera, a Xerox copy of the Firestone photo that he’d managed to make last night, and the Ebbets Field postcard. It was everything they had, so far.
    â€œI only went on GarageBand because I couldn’t find squat online about the Sub Rosa,” said Noodle. “It’s either the most secret club in history, or it never existed in the first place.”
    â€œWhich is all the more reason this treasure hunt has to be real. Why go through all the trouble unless secrecy was absolutely necessary?”
    â€œSo what? You think Edison, like, invented a way to make gold or something?” said Noodle.
    â€œSure would make all our lives easier.”
    Of course, the thought had occurred to all of them in private, but it just seemed too preposterous to believe. Still, the hope of a golden formula or some kind of secret treasure kept nagging at the back of Tom’s mind like an invisible mosquito, whispering to him every so often and forcing him to keep digging for answers.
    â€œSorry I’m late. Nana made me put on SPF-fifty for the five-second walk out here.” Colby’s face appeared between