Read Online The Atomic Weight of Secrets or The Arrival of the Mysterious Men in Black by Eden Unger Bowditch - Free Book Online

carriages, one driven by a man wearing dark glasses, a black cape, and a bullfighter’s hat that appeared to have actual horns coming out of either side, the other by a driver who seemed to be so short that he’d have a hard time seeing over the knee guard on the coachman’s seat. That said, his hat was so tall it seemed it would stretch higher than the man himself, if they were placed side by side. Like his fluffy jumper and ballooning trousers, the hat was black. His glasses, or rather goggles, were black, too.
    The children were led by the bullfighter who, unlike the other driver, stepped down from his perch and took their satchels.
    “Where is this school?” asked Jasper, as the bullfighter coachman opened the carriage door.
    “Yes,” said the coachman, who closed the door behind them.
    Jasper did not ask anything else.
    Once the carriage began to move, Rosie waddled out to the street and waved them away with her hankie. Lucy climbed up to the back window and waved until Rosie was out of sight. Then Lucy slid down into her seat and clung to Jasper’s arm.
    Jasper looked down at his sister and gave her the most forced smile he had ever had to muster in his life. He looked out of thewindow so she wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

    Jasper was startled awake. He was in the carriage with Lucy who, asleep, had been drooling from the corner of her mouth onto Jasper’s shirt, which was wet where the drool had pooled.
    For a moment, Jasper could not remember where he was. For a moment, he thought everything had been a dream—the move, the boat, the train, the house, Rosie, the men in black—and he was in a carriage with his parents.
    But then, he blinked, and it all came back to him in a giant leap. It was real.
    Outside, the city had become more countryside, and the other carriage was no longer following. He wondered when they had separated and why there had been two when it had only been Lucy and himself.
    Without warning, the carriage turned. Jasper caught sight of a rusted old gate ahead, standing in front of a long drive through fields and an orchard. There was an old sign, half hidden by a willow tree. The hinges on one side were broken, having rusted away. The sign said “Sole Manner Farm.” It may have even said “Sole Manner Farm School” at one time, but it was impossible to tell because that part of the sign had broken away and what looked like an “S” may just have been an impression on the wood. And there was some other kind of writing on the sign, too, or perhaps it was the only remains of a pattern running along the bottom edge.
    Whatever it said didn’t matter to Jasper when he saw thefarmhouse at the far side of the field. Lucy stirred.
    “I think we’re here,” Jasper said, allowing his sister to wake of her own accord.
    “Where’s here?” asked Lucy with a yawn. “Are we lost?”
    “I think it’s the school,” Jasper said, “or the farm. I think we’re on a farm, but we’ve definitely come on purpose. I doubt we’re lost.”
    Lucy clambered up to see through the window.
    “It’s lovely,” she said, admiring the orchard and watching the birds drift on the breeze.
    Jasper saw the birds, too, and the fields, and he understood what Lucy was seeing.
    “It is lovely,” he said. And it was.

    “Lovely” was an excellent description. The smell of apples yet to ripen and late berries at the end of their season filled the carriage. Lucy pulled down a window so they could breathe in the fresh air. There were none of the dirty smells of the city. Here, you could fill your lungs without smelling smokestacks or tanneries or glue factories. Here, there was nothing but air to breathe.
    As they pulled up to the farmhouse, Jasper could see that there was a classroom. The farmhouse had a second building, and Jasper guessed that was where they would sleep. Farther back, he could see this place really was a farm, a working farm, with a barn, a henhouse, acres of green, a potting shed, and