Read Online Running Out of Time by Margaret Peterson Haddix - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Margaret Peterson Haddix
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stayed near the tourists, she'd be easy to find.
Jessie walked faster, grateful for the arrowed exit signs that appeared every fifty yards or so. But she stopped in her tracks when the arrows pointed her around a corner.
In front of her, lined up in diagonals, were about thirty enormous yellow cars—cars so big that Pa's blacksmith shop could have fit in any of them. Jessie gawked. Was this what Ma meant when she said limousines were big cars? Were these all Miles Clifton's limousines?
Jessie edged close enough to read the lettering on the side of each car: grant county school district, m.s.d. of martinsville, school bus. The lettering didn't tell Jessie if the big cars were limousines or not, but she did recognize the word school. These must not belong to Miles Clifton. Did the schoolchildren who were tourists at Clifton Village get to ride on those? Jessie felt a stab of envy for those future—what had the chaperon called them?—teenagers.
It was all Jessie could do to resist peeking in one of the windows of the school maybe-limousines. Later, she told herself. After she got help for Katie and the others, she could come back and look closely at them. But just in case—as she walked on, Jessie stared back to try and register all the
details, so she could impress Andrew later. He'd be mad, anyhow, that Jessie had gotten to leave Clifton and he hadn't.
Just beyond the cars and the school maybe-limousines, one more exit sign pointed down a road that disappeared into the forest. The road was wide and smooth, covered with more of the black tarry surface. It made the new road they'd just built into Clifton look ridiculously bumpy. But this road was lined with familiar split rail fences, just like the ones that surrounded animal pens in Clifton.
Jessie climbed the fence and walked by the trees, hiding whenever she heard a car go by. Sure, no one seemed to be looking for her, but she didn't want to take any chances. Besides, she didn't want any more cars hoonking at her.
Stumbling over roots and branches, Jessie realized she could go a lot faster on the smooth road. No, be cautious, she told herself. That wasn't like her. Hannah was the cautious one in the family. But Hannah wouldn't have been brave enough to leave Clifton. Jessie would just have to pretend she had Hannah's caution and her own bravery.
A twig snapped nearby and Jessie froze. Then she relaxed, hearing a squirrel chatter by an oak ahead of her. Jessie tried to remember what Ma had said about getting down to the main road:
"It will be a long walk, maybe a mile. If I remember the way they planned it, the road will wind around a lot. And then you'll see a highway"—Jessie had looked puzzled at that—"a very big road, bigger than anything you've ever seen before. There should be signs with numbers, only I can't remember. . . . Seventeen? Twenty-seven? Thirty-seven? I think it's a number like that. Turn north and walk along the
road. It goes all the way to Indianapolis, but you should be able to find a phone long before you get there."
A robin chirped in one of the elms and Jessie smiled. If she had a mile or more to walk, she wasn't going to walk the whole way fretting. She didn't need to be as big a worrywart as Hannah! She should be happy to find out they still had robins and squirrels in the 1990s. Then she laughed at herself. Of course they would! It was hard not to think of this as the future, this strange new world she'd just found out about.
Feeling freer with her laughter, Jessie took longer steps. She could do that in pants. She'd always wondered what it would be like to be a boy. This was as close as she'd get.
All the boys back in Clifton, Jessie thought, would be jealous that Jessie was out in the woods instead of in school listening to Mr. Smythe yell. On nice spring days like this, Andrew and his friends began talking of playing hooky from school and going fishing in Crooked Creek. Of course Andrew never did, because he knew Pa would tan
Jessie walked faster, grateful for the arrowed exit signs that appeared every fifty yards or so. But she stopped in her tracks when the arrows pointed her around a corner.
In front of her, lined up in diagonals, were about thirty enormous yellow cars—cars so big that Pa's blacksmith shop could have fit in any of them. Jessie gawked. Was this what Ma meant when she said limousines were big cars? Were these all Miles Clifton's limousines?
Jessie edged close enough to read the lettering on the side of each car: grant county school district, m.s.d. of martinsville, school bus. The lettering didn't tell Jessie if the big cars were limousines or not, but she did recognize the word school. These must not belong to Miles Clifton. Did the schoolchildren who were tourists at Clifton Village get to ride on those? Jessie felt a stab of envy for those future—what had the chaperon called them?—teenagers.
It was all Jessie could do to resist peeking in one of the windows of the school maybe-limousines. Later, she told herself. After she got help for Katie and the others, she could come back and look closely at them. But just in case—as she walked on, Jessie stared back to try and register all the
details, so she could impress Andrew later. He'd be mad, anyhow, that Jessie had gotten to leave Clifton and he hadn't.
Just beyond the cars and the school maybe-limousines, one more exit sign pointed down a road that disappeared into the forest. The road was wide and smooth, covered with more of the black tarry surface. It made the new road they'd just built into Clifton look ridiculously bumpy. But this road was lined with familiar split rail fences, just like the ones that surrounded animal pens in Clifton.
Jessie climbed the fence and walked by the trees, hiding whenever she heard a car go by. Sure, no one seemed to be looking for her, but she didn't want to take any chances. Besides, she didn't want any more cars hoonking at her.
Stumbling over roots and branches, Jessie realized she could go a lot faster on the smooth road. No, be cautious, she told herself. That wasn't like her. Hannah was the cautious one in the family. But Hannah wouldn't have been brave enough to leave Clifton. Jessie would just have to pretend she had Hannah's caution and her own bravery.
A twig snapped nearby and Jessie froze. Then she relaxed, hearing a squirrel chatter by an oak ahead of her. Jessie tried to remember what Ma had said about getting down to the main road:
"It will be a long walk, maybe a mile. If I remember the way they planned it, the road will wind around a lot. And then you'll see a highway"—Jessie had looked puzzled at that—"a very big road, bigger than anything you've ever seen before. There should be signs with numbers, only I can't remember. . . . Seventeen? Twenty-seven? Thirty-seven? I think it's a number like that. Turn north and walk along the
road. It goes all the way to Indianapolis, but you should be able to find a phone long before you get there."
A robin chirped in one of the elms and Jessie smiled. If she had a mile or more to walk, she wasn't going to walk the whole way fretting. She didn't need to be as big a worrywart as Hannah! She should be happy to find out they still had robins and squirrels in the 1990s. Then she laughed at herself. Of course they would! It was hard not to think of this as the future, this strange new world she'd just found out about.
Feeling freer with her laughter, Jessie took longer steps. She could do that in pants. She'd always wondered what it would be like to be a boy. This was as close as she'd get.
All the boys back in Clifton, Jessie thought, would be jealous that Jessie was out in the woods instead of in school listening to Mr. Smythe yell. On nice spring days like this, Andrew and his friends began talking of playing hooky from school and going fishing in Crooked Creek. Of course Andrew never did, because he knew Pa would tan
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