“Is that all it says?” asked Amelia Bedelia.
After she’d read a little bit more, Ms. Hotchkiss looked up again. “Oh, my goodness,” she said, then went back to reading.
“Is it a bill? Is something broken? Did something flood?” asked Mr. Jack.
“Oh, my goodness gracious,” said Ms. Hotchkiss. She handed the note to Mrs. Roman. “Read it yourself. Read it to everyone. That picture hitting the counter was no accident!”
Since Mrs. Roman hadn’t had the chance to read the note yet, she began by reading it to herself. “This is incredible,” she said.
Then she went back to the beginning to read it out loud. She held it up, pointing at the date in the upper right-hand corner. “This letter is dated October, 1920,” she said. Then she began.
October 1st, 1920.
I write this letter in the year 1920. My name is Peter Hoffman. I am the first principal of our town’s new school, Oak Tree Elementary. Our town has plenty of monuments, statues, and plaques that celebrate the noble achievements of our citizens. We would also like to celebrate the students who pass through the doors of our school. To honor the lives of ordinary citizens, we have gathered an assortment of everyday objects from daily life in our town. We want to give future generations an idea of how we worked and played and thought and felt. We have collected these items in a time capsule, to be opened one hundred years from now, in the year 2020. You will find it buried at the base of the old oak tree, in the direction of true north.
Good luck! Be well and prosper!
I remain your humble servant,
Peter C. Hoffman
“Isn’t this incredible?” said Ms. Hotchkiss. “Here we are, about to celebrate our school’s one hundredth birthday, when a letter about a centennial time capsule falls in our lap!”
“It fell on the floor first,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“Now all we have to do is find that time capsule before the party,” said Mrs. Roman.
“Well, we’ve got five days to beat the clock,” said Ms. Hotchkiss. “Mrs. Roman, I am putting you in charge!”
“Here’s the first thing we should do,” said Mrs. Roman. “Let’s get the whole school involved. We’ll make an announcement about the time capsule. I’ll tell the story of what happened in this office today, and Amelia Bedelia can read Principal Hoffman’s letter to everyone.”
Ms. Hotchkiss, Mrs. Roman, and Amelia Bedelia gathered around the microphone.
“Sounds like a good plan,” said Ms. Hotchkiss. “Mr. Jack, we may need a shovel.”
“Attention! This is your principal,” said Ms. Hotchkiss into the mic. “I’m sorry to interrupt your work, but we have some important breaking news—”
SMASH! Tinkle-plinkity-plink . . .
In his hurry, Mr. Jack had snagged his foot on the picture frame. The whole thing fell over and hit the floor hard, shattering the glass. They could barely look at one another without bursting out laughing.
“I’ll go get a broom, too,” said Mr. Jack, shaking his head.
Ms. Hotchkiss gestured for Mrs. Roman to take over. Finally Mrs. Roman stopped laughing long enough to tell the students of Oak Tree Elementary about the accident that had led to the discovery of the letter, and to introduce Amelia Bedelia. Amelia Bedelia stepped up to the microphone.
“I would like to read you a letter written one hundred years ago,” said Amelia Bedelia. Then she stopped. It wasn’t because she had said such a strange thing. Although it was strange to think of reading a message that had taken a century to reach them rather than a minute or even a second. . . . No, she was feeling weird just hearing the sound of her own voice.
Of course she heard herself speak every day. But now she was imagining her voice echoing down the halls, rebounding off lockers, and bouncing off bulletin boards, through the gym and cafeteria and library into every classroom in the school, including her own. She wondered what her friends were thinking. Were they wondering what had happened to her? She was only supposed to deliver the attendance record, but she’d been gone a long time. Did her voice sound funny? Did they think she sounded like herself? Were they paying attention?
Finally she read the letter.
“I write this letter in the year 1920. My name is Peter Hoffman. I am the first principal of our town’s new school, Oak Tree Elementary. Our town has plenty of monuments, statues, and plaques that celebrate the noble achievements of our citizens. We would also like to celebrate the students who pass through the doors of our school. To honor the lives of ordinary citizens, we have gathered an assortment of everyday objects from daily life in our town. We want to give future generations an idea of how we worked and played and thought and felt. We have collected these items in a time capsule, to be opened one hundred years from now, in the year 2020. You will find it buried at the base of the old oak tree, in the direction of true north.
Good luck! Be well and prosper!
I remain your humble servant,
Peter C. Hoffman”
On her way back to class, Amelia Bedelia sensed a surge of excitement flowing through the school, as though someone had switched on an electric current. When she got back to her room, she was a celebrity. Her friends and classmates gathered around to ask her questions.
Q: Was that you on the intercom?
A: Yes.
Q: Are you famous?
A: No.
Q: Is it true that you saw the letter first?
A: Yes.
Q: Can I have your autograph?
A: Sure.
Mrs. Shauk had wasted no time. She had written TIME CAPSULE on the board. She asked Angel to look up the term in the dictionary and to read the definition out loud.
“A container holding historical records or objects representative of current culture that is deposited (as in the earth or in a cornerstone) for preservation until discovery by some future age,” read Angel.
Amelia Bedelia hardly ever thought about the past or the future. She liked to focus on the here and now. And right this minute she wanted to find that hundred-year-old time capsule, open it up, and discover what was inside!
That night, after her homework, Amelia Bedelia and her parents sat down to supper. It looked delicious, as always. Amelia Bedelia knew that the news of her day would change her life. She was savoring the feeling of anticipation, making sure she would be able to remember what their lives were like before the time capsule.
“Anything earth-shattering happen in school today?” asked her father.
“The earth was okay,” said Amelia Bedelia. “It was a glass-shattering day.”
Then she told them about the Roman numerals, taking the attendance report to the office, Mrs. Roman’s sides, Mr. Jack moving the framed photograph, watching it but not watching it, the picture dropping and the glass shattering, discovering a note from one hundred years ago, then announcing that news to the whole school and becoming a celebrity.
Amelia Bedelia was halfway through her story when she noticed that her parents had stopped eating. They were leaning toward her, their eyes wide, listening as hard as they could. When she finished, Amelia Bedelia took her first bite of lasagna.
“Delicious, Mom!” said Amelia Bedelia. Her parents were still stunned by her story. They looked at each other, then back at her.
“All that went on before lunch, sweetie?” said her mother.
“Every bit. The afternoon was much calmer,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“Thank goodness. If I had gone through all that, I would have come home for a nap,” said her father.
“Wow, that is incredible. What’s next?” asked her mother.
“Ms. Hotchkiss wants to dig up the time capsule,” said Amelia Bedelia. “She wants to display it at our centennial celebration.”
“What fun!” said her mother. “That would be a huge a feather in her cap.”
Amelia Bedelia thought that getting to see Ms. Hotchkiss wearing a cap with an enormous feather in it was even more reason to find that time capsule!
“When they find it, it will be interesting to see what the teachers and students in 1920 put inside to share with the teachers and students in 2020,” said her mother.
“There are time capsules in existence that won’t be opened for thousands of years,” said her father.
“Thousands of years!” said Amelia Bedelia. “Nothing lasts that long. Who is going to remember where they buried it?”
“Well, when explorers discover an ancient tomb, like those in Egypt, it’s sort of a time capsule. Sometimes they find jewelry and furniture and scrolls, along with combs and mirrors and games and other stuff. Since those things are more than 4,000 years old, a tomb can be a time capsule of sorts.”
Amelia Bedelia shook her head. “I can’t imagine waiting 4,000 years for something. Christmas comes once a year, but it feels like it takes forever to get here. Grandma says that Christmas comes quicker for her every year, which is weird.”
“Time is relative,” said her mother.
“A relative like Grandma?” asked Amelia Bedelia.
“No, sweetie,” said her father. “Relative like ‘compared to something else.’ Grandma has seen way more Christmases than you. No matter what age you are, there are always three hundred and sixty-five days between Christmases every year. But as you get older, it sometimes feels as though it comes sooner and sooner. And when you are younger, it feels like it takes forever!”
“Sooner or later, the future is coming. Ready or not!” said her mother.
“When it comes to the future, there is only one thing you can be sure of. It never turns out quite like they say it will,” said her father. “According to the magazines I read when I was your age, we should have a small helicopter in our driveway instead of a car.”
“Flying to school in a helicopter? Cool!” said Amelia Bedelia.
“And you,” continued her dad, “would be zooming around with your jet pack instead of riding your bike.”
“Can I get one for my birthday?” asked Amelia Bedelia, even though that day felt like it was a really long time away.
“Sure, right after I get my helicopter,” said her father.
“I can remember scientists saying that no one would have to cook anymore,” said her mother. “A whole meal would be contained in one tiny pill.”
“That does not sound delicious at all,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“That’s probably why it never caught on,” said her father, standing up to clear the table. “The only good thing about taking a pill instead of cooking and eating is not having any dishes to do.”
Amelia Bedelia joined her father at the sink, drying what he washed. “Then we’d have more time to race around with our jet packs,” she said.
The next morning, hordes of kids descended on Oak Tree Elementary. At drop-off, students hurried out of cars or raced off buses and headed straight for the big oak tree out front. They carried every type of tool used for digging. There were all sorts of shovels and spades and spoons, garden forks, hoes, and even a tiny toy trowel. The kids went right to work, competing to see who could dig the deepest and fastest.
Mrs. Roman was in the school office when she first got wind of what was happening out front. A mail carrier who had stopped in to deliver the mail said, “What a great idea to plant a garden out front so everyone can enjoy it!”
“Planting a what where?” asked Mrs. Roman.
“Under the big oak! I have never seen kids so excited about digging!”
Mrs. Roman ran out of the building. “What in the world?” she said, shaking her head.
Students were laughing and chatting while flinging dirt everywhere. It looked like fifty dogs were trying to bury their bones at the same time. The old plaque engraved with the school motto and the date 1921 had been dug up and was lying on a big pile of dirt.
Just then, Miss Chase, the gym teacher, jogged by. Mrs. Roman grabbed the whistle from around Miss Chase’s neck and blew it with all her might.
The students froze.
“Are you guys woodchucks, or what?” yelled Mrs. Roman. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“We’re looking for the time capsule,” said a boy in second grade.
“For Ms. Hotchkiss,” said a girl in first grade.
“Well, she wouldn’t want you hurting our oak tree or yourselves trying to find it,” said Mrs. Roman. “This tree is big and strong. But if you disturb its roots, you could damage it. You don’t want to go to school at Dead Oak Tree Elementary, do you? Fill up your holes and get to your classrooms, pronto!”
Amelia Bedelia leaned on her shovel until Mrs. Roman went back inside.
“Is she gone yet?” asked Clay, peeking out from behind Amelia Bedelia.
“Yes, Mrs. Roman is gone, you chicken,” said Cliff, shaking his head and pushing dirt back into their hole.
“Clay isn’t a chicken,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Or a duck or a goose. He’s our friend.”
“Right!” said Joy. “One hundred percent.”
“I hereby promote Clay to the level of a turkey, but no higher,” said Cliff. “You can’t go through school being afraid of Mrs. Roman.”
Amelia Bedelia and her friends stopped by the bathrooms to wash off the dirt before heading to their classroom. They made it just in time for the morning announcements and a special message from Ms. Hotchkiss.
“Thanks to all of you who wanted to help locate the time capsule we learned about yesterday! We appreciate your enthusiasm. This afternoon, you may see workers around the tree using tools and equipment to locate the time capsule without harming our oak. It’s an exciting project, and I will let you know as soon as they find something!”
Ms. Hotchkiss passed the microphone to Mrs. Roman. “Here is our fun fact for today,” said Mrs. Roman. “When our school opened in 1920, fifty percent of the families in our town lived on farms.”
“Wow!” said Clay. “She finally dug up a cool fact!”
After lunch, Amelia Bedelia and her friends gathered out back at the student lounge near the playground. Unlike the teachers’ lounge, which they imagined had comfortable chairs, snacks, and a television, the student lounge just had one piece of furniture. It was an old tree stump that had been turned into a table. The stump was nearly three feet in diameter and about a foot high.
Clay’s father was a furniture maker, and he had helped the kids turn the stump into a table. He had trimmed off the part that was old and rotten. He showed them how to use sandpaper to smooth down the top. Then they painted it with varnish to protect it from the weather. The varnish dried hard and clear, and they could count the growth rings, one per year. It must have been a very old tree. When the bell rang, they headed back to their classroom for math.
Amelia Bedelia gazed out the window, distracted from her word problem by the team of workers taking measurements and pushing and pulling long metal rods in and out of the ground. One man was even using a metal detector, the kind she and her cousin Jason had seen treasure hunters using at the shore during the summer.
A few minutes later, Ms. Hotchkiss approached the workers. From the way they were all shaking their heads, Amelia Bedelia could tell they hadn’t found anything. They loaded their equipment back into their truck and waved as Ms. Hotchkiss walked back inside.
Now what? thought Amelia Bedelia. Time was running out.
Amelia Bedelia had promised to bring Pete, the owner of Pete’s Diner, four dozen lemon tarts for his customers. She stopped by to make the delivery after school.
“Your tarts are the hottest item on the menu,” said Doris, a waitress at the diner.
“Oh, you don’t have to heat them up,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“Well, they are popular, no matter what temperature,” said Doris.
“I won’t be able to make another delivery for a while,” said Amelia Bedelia. “I’ll be busy making lots of lemon tarts for my school’s birthday.”
“You go to Oak Tree Elementary, right?” asked Pete.
“I sure do,” said
Amelia Bedelia.
“I went there too,” said Pete, holding out his hand.
Amelia Bedelia shook Pete’s hand.
“In fact, my great-grandfather was the first principal,” said Pete.
“You mean Peter Hoffman?” asked Amelia Bedelia.
Pete was stunned. “How did you know that?” he asked. “I was named after him. My mother loved telling stories about my great-grandfather. He loved gardening and trees. She told me that he always felt bad when the big old oak tree out behind the school died. It was huge! Ancient. He planted a new one out front, grown from an acorn off the old one.”
“What else do you remember about him, Pete?” asked Doris, cutting a little slice of lemon tart to taste.
“I remember my mother telling me about his pocket watch,” said Pete. “He would let her press a button, and the cover would flip open. She liked the face of the clock because it had big Roman numerals on it. The words ‘Tempus fugit’ were engraved on the inside.”
“Is that who made the watch?” asked Amelia Bedelia.
“No. Tempus fugit means ‘Time flies’ in Latin,” said Pete. “Way back when I was growing up, we all had to take Latin.”
“You grew up speaking Latin?” said Amelia Bedelia. “Wow, you are much older than I thought. Did your mom and dad take you to the Colosseum to see the chariot races?”
It took a long time for Doris to stop laughing. She was still giggling when she put a plate of french fries in front of Amelia Bedelia.
Amelia Bedelia & Friends #1 Page 2
