"Blasting Into the Past,Humano Morphs" - читать интересную книгу автора (Spenser M D)

Chapter One

I hate history!

Hate, hate, hate history lessons!

It isn't that I dislike school Ч not at all. School has always been fun for me. Everybody always tells me I'm one of the "brainy" kids in the class.

You know the type.

I guess it's true. I almost always get As on tests and I'm often the first kid to answer the teacher's questions about literature and math and science.

I especially love science Ч chemistry is my favorite.

Learning new things is pretty awesome, you know?

But something about history lessons always makes me want to run from our class and throw up all over the bathroom. The funniest thing about it is, I can never explain exactly why I feel this way.


All I know is that it seems to have some strange connection with our teacher, Mr. Wicker.

He's a nice teacher Ч most of the time, anyway. Maybe a little odd-looking, sure. But who am I to criticize anyone for that?

I'm not exactly going to win any prizes for being the most handsome boy in school, that's for sure!

Mr. Wicker is very tall and very skinny, with thin black hair greased straight back. He has a tiny mustache and a stubby, crooked nose, and his pants are too short.

And his clothes are always black. Entirely black.

Pretty weird for a teacher!

But the oddest thing about Mr. Wicker is that he seems to like me fine all day long Ч until our history lessons begin.

"Very good, Benjamin! You'll be a famous chemist someday," he often says when I answer a science problem correctly.

He says this in front of the whole class, too. I like that, though it's kind of embarrassing, too.

But somehow whenever we start to talk about history, Mr. Wicker's attitude suddenly changes. His

dark eyes get a funny look in them, as if he's angry.

Very angry Ч at me!

He never smiles at me during history. And he says strange things to me. Only to me, as though I've done something wrong.

That's just what things were like on this one afternoon in November Ч the same afternoon when all the miserable troubles started for my family.

Mr. Wicker began giving our class a history lesson at the end of the day, as usual. He had been smiling and laughing and cracking jokes with the other kids and me all afternoon.

You know how it is with teachers sometimes Ч he seemed in a really good mood.