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Bell’s Breakthrough

Page 4

by Stacia Deutsch


  Bo continued: “Our telephones make a circuit with a central office. The office gives each person a different telephone number, which is his or her personal circuit. When you lift the receiver, you hear the dial tone, which means your circuit is ready for you to make a phone call.”

  “The circuit is always ready?” Professor Bell asked.

  “Yes,” Bo answered.

  Professor Bell bit his lip and mumbled, “Battery.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about.

  Professor Bell was looking at the telephone pad on the wall. “These are the numbers?” He pressed a few buttons.

  “Careful,” Zack said. “If you press the numbers, you’ll call someone. The central office automatically connects you with the number you dialed and completes the call.”

  “We usually only call people if we know their phone number,” Jacob added. “And we only call 9-1-1 if there is an emergency.”

  Professor Bell hung up the phone. Then he picked it up again.

  Professor Bell kept picking up the receiver, listening to the dial tone, shaking his head, and then hanging up again. I could see that he was thinking.

  I hoped that he was ready to get back to inventing. If we left now, he’d still have enough time to figure out how to make electric speech work.

  Brring. The loud ringing of the fire alarm echoed through the firehouse.

  We heard footsteps as the firefighters rushed to get dressed and onto the fire truck. Some firefighters slid down the fire pole. Others were putting on their boots, coveralls, and hats. Everyone was getting ready to go out and fight a fire.

  Firefighter Osborn stuck his head in the office. “You kids stay here with Professor Bell. Don’t follow me to the fire. It could be dangerous. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He rushed off to get his gear.

  When another firefighter hurried into the office to check the computer, we moved out into the hall. The firehouse was suddenly crowded with firefighters rushing past us, heading toward the garage. We pressed back against a wall, trying to stay out of their way.

  We had shown Professor Bell everything we could. We couldn’t show him how fast the fire trucks could get to an emergency. He’d have to trust us that his invention helped save many lives every day.

  “Professor Bell?” I asked, turning my head to tell the inventor that it was time to go home. But he wasn’t there! I looked around. He wasn’t standing with us in the hall. “Where’d he go? I swear he was just here a second ago.”

  “I tried to stop him,” Zack said. He pointed out the door of the garage.

  We rushed out to the driveway. The fire truck was turning the street corner.

  I squinted to see where Zack was pointing and couldn’t believe my eyes.

  Professor Bell was waving at us from the back of the fire truck!

  9-1-1

  “What happened?” I asked Bo.

  “He can run really fast,” Bo answered.

  “So can Zack,” I replied. “Zack’s the fastest runner in the whole third grade.”

  “I think Alexander Graham Bell might be faster,” Jacob said. “Professor Bell ran and jumped onto the truck while it was leaving. Zack ran after him and tried to block his way, but Professor Bell was too quick.”

  “We’re in trouble,” Zack groaned. “The fire truck could be going anywhere in the city.”

  “That’s not exactly true,” Jacob said. “This station is only for a small part of the city. Only the firehouse closest to the fire sends trucks.”

  “Unless there is a big emergency,” Bo said. “Then many firehouses send their trucks.” It really didn’t matter how far away the fire truck went. It was just plain bad that it had left. And that Professor Bell had gone with it.

  We were in big trouble.

  “We could wait until they get back,” I suggested. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the only idea I had.

  “That would take too much time,” Jacob said, checking his watch. “We have only forty-three minutes to get Professor Bell back to eighteen seventy six.”

  “And to get him to invent the telephone,” Bo added.

  It seemed like things couldn’t be any worse, but Jacob was smiling. “I can solve one of our problems,” he said, grinning so wide, all his teeth showed.

  “How?” I asked.

  Jacob led us all back into the firehouse. Next to the telephone was a computer.

  “Can you find the fire truck?” Bo asked Jacob.

  “Sure,” Jacob said as he sat down at the desk. “This computer keeps track of where 9-1-1 calls come from,” he explained while he pushed a few letters on the keyboard. Numbers flashed across the screen. “When a person calls 9-1-1, an emergency operator answers the phone. The operator asks some important questions to decide what kind of help the person needs.”

  Jacob was still sitting at the computer pressing buttons. He continued: “In some cities, they have new computers that can figure out addresses. No one needs to tell the operators where to send help. The computer can figure it out on its own.”

  “And the best part is,” Zack added, “Dad told me that if you call 9-1-1, it usually takes less than a minute for help to be on the way.”

  “Boy, if only we could have called 9-1-1 in eighteen seventy-six,” I said, shaking my head, “maybe that woman’s house wouldn’t have burned down. Telegrams sure took a lot longer than telephones.”

  “Too long,” Zack agreed.

  Bo leaned over Jacob’s shoulder and read the information. “A woman called 9-1-1 from 324 High Street. There is a fire in her kitchen.”

  “Oh, no!” My heart started beating so fast, I thought it might explode. “I live at 322 High Street! Right next door!”

  “We live at 320 High Street!” Jacob and Zack shouted at the same time.

  “It’s our neighbor Mrs. Kapalsky!” I said. “She might need help because she can’t hear the fire engine’s siren. She’s deaf!”

  “Just like Mabel,” Bo said.

  “Yes,” I said quickly.

  “We’d better run!” Zack was out the door before the rest of us were ready to go.

  “Jacob, we need to hurry. Tie your shoe!” I said, and poked him in the arm.

  Jacob refused and took off running after Zack.

  Bo and I rushed out of the firehouse. We went running down the street and around the corner. We scooted past my house and got to Mrs. Kapalsky’s house just as the firefighters were packing up the truck to return to the fire station.

  “What happened?” I asked Zack. He’d gotten to Mrs. Kapalsky’s house a little before me.

  “She put too much oil in a pan. It bubbled and made a small fire in her kitchen. Dad was able to put it out quickly,” Zack answered. Jacob and Bo came to stand beside us.

  “Mrs. Kapalsky is fine,” Bo said. “Because they got here so fast, the firefighters saved her house.”

  I was just about to ask if any of the boys had seen Mrs. Kapalsky, when I saw her standing on the front lawn talking to Professor Bell and Firefighter Osborn. They were standing in a small circle. They had their heads close together.

  Professor Bell was talking with his hands. He was speaking in sign language to Mrs. Kapalsky. Mrs. Kapalsky handed a white square box to Professor Bell and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She gave Firefighter Osborn a hug.

  I discovered I could read lips, too, when I saw her say “thank you” to the two men.

  She saw us standing in the driveway. She waved and went back inside her house.

  Firefighter Osborn went over to talk to another firefighter. Professor Bell came over to us. He was very excited. “The fire is out. Everyone is safe. And I have two important things to show you.”

  I’d never seen Professor Bell so happy. I liked him best when he wasn’t quitting, tricking us, or running away.

  Professor Bell showed us the white box he was holding. “This is Mrs. Kapalsky’s Teletype machine,” he explained. “Mrs. Kapalsky uses this machine like a telephone. She can call her friend
s. She just types in her message instead of speaking. And her friends write back.” He pressed a few numbers on the keypad. “A teletypewriter is a combination of the electric speech apparatus and a multiple telegraph machine. The typing travels through the voice wires used for telephone circuits.”

  “Did she call 9-1-1 by Teletype?” Zack asked.

  “Exactly,” Professor Bell said, and smiled at Zack.

  Now it made sense how the computer at the fire station had known Mrs. K’s address. She’d called 9-1-1 on her own. Mrs. K didn’t need to be able to hear to call for help.

  I suddenly understood why Mr. C hadn’t called on me in class. He’d known I was too curious to let it slide. Mr. C had wanted me to ask him why he’d ignored me, so that he could give me a useful time-travel clue.

  When he’d answered, “I didn’t mean to turn a deaf ear,” he was hinting that to understand Alexander Graham Bell, we had to understand the world of the deaf. Alexander Graham Bell didn’t set out to invent the telephone so that my friends and I could make plans to go to the mall; he wanted to create something that would make the world a better place for deaf people.

  And he did it! Even though she couldn’t hear, the Teletype machine saved Mrs. Kapalsky’s house. And her life.

  Mrs. Kapalsky was able to call 9-1-1 by Teletype!

  A firefighter was standing near us. Professor Bell walked over to him and handed him the Teletype machine. “This is Mrs. Kapalsky’s,” he told the firefighter. “She said I could borrow it to show my friends. Would you please give it back to her for me?”

  The firefighter agreed, took the machine, and headed into the house.

  The Teletype machine was the first important thing Alexander Graham Bell wanted us to see. “What’s the second thing you wanted to show us?” I asked.

  “Come with me,” he said.

  We followed Professor Bell over to the front of a fire truck. “After the fire was out, I asked Firefighter Osborn to show me the truck’s engine and battery.” He climbed up into the driver’s seat.

  We couldn’t all fit in the truck’s cab, so we waited for him to explain.

  “I have had a breakthrough. It is the battery!” he called as he took the last step up into the truck. “The fire truck has a battery tucked under the driver’s seat,” Professor Bell shouted from high up in the truck. He ducked down under the front seat. We couldn’t see him anymore.

  Zack leaned toward me and grunted. “I told you it was going to be hard to get him to go back to phones. Now we’ve really made a mess. He’s going to try to invent a car or truck instead of the telephone.”

  “No!” Professor Bell shouted from the cab of the truck. “I am going back to eighteen seventy-six. I am going to invent the telephone. I figured out why the electric speech apparatus does not work!”

  Zack looked surprised. “Well,” he said with a shrug, “for the first time in history, I was wrong.” We all started to laugh. “Professor Bell is going back to inventing the telephone. You know what this means, don’t you?”

  We didn’t.

  “It’s the sad end of the multiple telegraph,” Zack said, pretending to cry. We all laughed again. Zack had been right. It had been extra hard to convince Professor Bell to try to invent the phone after he quit. But now he was willing to try again. I crossed my fingers that whatever he saw in the truck would help.

  “The secret to the telephone is battery acid,” Professor Bell cheered. He popped out of the truck and dropped to the ground.

  “When can I go home?” Professor Bell asked us. He was talking quickly. He couldn’t wait to get back to Mr. Watson and the boardinghouse. “I am ready to try again! I will try until I get it right!” Professor Bell put his hand on Jacob’s head and messed up his hair. “You kids showed me how my invention will help people who are deaf and people who can hear.” Professor Bell was very happy.

  Jacob pulled the computer out of his pocket. He was all set to put in the cartridge when Firefighter Osborn called, “Boys!” from across the yard. Jacob quickly stashed the computer back in his pocket.

  Firefighter Osborn came over to us. His eyes were dark. I was scared we were in big trouble. We had followed him to the fire when he’d told us not to.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he said. “I understand that you were worried about Mrs. Kapalsky, but I told you to wait at the firehouse.” He wasn’t smiling.

  “I was my fault,” Alexander Graham Bell told Firefighter Osborn. “I rode on the fire truck. The children were worried that they would not find me again.”

  It was nice of Professor Bell to stick up for us. But it didn’t work.

  “The kids know better than to come around a fire,” Firefighter Osborn told Professor Bell. “They should have waited at the firehouse for you to return.” Then he put his big hands on his sons’ heads. “Jacob and Zack are grounded for a week.” He looked at me. “I’ll call your parents later tonight.” Then he turned to Bo. “And I’ll call your mom tonight too.”

  Firefighter Osborn said good-bye to Professor Bell and walked away. He jumped on the fire truck for the trip back to the firehouse. “Don’t forget to be back at school by five o’clock. Mom will be waiting.”

  I was bummed. I knew I’d be grounded too.

  “What does ‘grounded’ mean?” Alexander Graham Bell asked me.

  “No television for a whole week,” I moaned.

  “Since I do not know what a television is,” Professor Bell said, “it does not sound like a terrible punishment to me.”

  When he put it that way, it didn’t sound so bad to me, either. Maybe I’d check out a book on Alexander Graham Bell from the school library and catch up on my reading.

  Bo, the twins, and I walked with Professor Bell to a quiet place in Mrs. Kapalsky’s yard.

  “Can I take us home?” Professor Bell held out his hand.

  Jacob gave him the computer.

  “I would like to invent a time-travel machine,” Professor Bell said as he slipped in the cartridge. Green glowing smoke filled the street. A big hole opened near Mrs. Kapalsky’s flower pot. “But first I have to invent the electric speech apparatus.” Professor Bell handed Jacob the computer.

  “Can you finish the invention in twenty-six minutes?” Jacob asked, looking down into the deep hole.

  “I hope so,” Professor Bell said, taking my hand in his. “But we will never know unless I try.”

  We all linked hands, forming a circle. I counted to three. And we jumped.

  Tinkering

  We dashed up the boardinghouse stairs.

  “Hang the wire!” Professor Bell shouted to Mr. Watson.

  Professor Bell opened his bedroom door and rushed inside. He didn’t care that he had twenty-six minutes to make history. He thought he knew how to make electric speech work and he was excited to try his new idea.

  Mr. Watson walked slowly into the room. “You quit, remember?”

  “The children convinced me to not quit. We have to keep trying until we get this apparatus to transmit sound!” Professor Bell picked up the wooden box he’d put the apparatus pieces into and dumped the contents onto the floor.

  As he gathered the pieces he needed, Professor Bell said, “With the telephone, it is possible to connect every man’s house, office, or factory with a central station, so as to give him direct communication with his neighbors.”

  Bo leaned over and whispered to me, “You just heard history. Alexander Graham Bell wrote those exact words in a letter in eighteen seventy-eight.”

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “I like to read, remember?” Bo replied, smiling.

  Jacob turned to Professor Bell and asked, “What can we do to help you?”

  Alexander Graham Bell was making a huge mess. He was throwing wires and magnets, needles and screws all over the floor. “Abigail,” he said to me. “You and Bo help Mr. Watson rehang the wire.”

  “Twins,” he said, looking at Jacob and Zack, “I need some battery acid.”

&
nbsp; “I’m not sure where to get some,” Zack said truthfully.

  “Go with Mr. Watson next door. He’ll give you some.” Professor Bell took a handful of supplies off the floor and put them on his desk. “Put some in a jar. Mix in a little water, and then bring the liquid back here.” Suddenly, Alexander Graham Bell became very quiet.

  He was thinking hard. We didn’t want to interrupt. So we got to work.

  When the wire was hung, Zack carried the jar of battery acid back to Professor Bell.

  “The fire truck’s battery gave me the idea. Battery acid is a very strong conductor. I think it might be exactly what we need to make the circuit work. I think if I use a metal needle”—he worked as he talked—“and put the needle in a mixture of water and battery acid—” Professor Bell suddenly stopped talking again.

  He got up from the desk. He attached a wire between the battery and the needle. He used a second wire to connect the battery to the metal cone. Then he used screws to attach the whole apparatus to Mr. Watson’s wire.

  Alexander Graham Bell poured the water and battery acid mixture into the cone.

  “See? It’s a complete circuit.” Bo showed me. “The wires go in a circle from the battery to the cone to the needle, over to Mr. Watson’s room, then back around.”

  While Professor Bell was thinking about what else he needed to do, we all ran next door to see what Mr. Watson was up to.

  He had taken the wire that connected the two rooms and attached it to an electromagnetic receiver and a metal plate. When Professor Bell spoke, the metal plate was supposed to vibrate and change the electricity into words.

  Mr. Watson put the receiver up to his ear.

  We all stood silently, waiting for the first telephone call.

  Nothing happened.

  I could hear Professor Bell talking, but it was from the hallway—not from the electric speech apparatus.

  “Bummer,” Zack said.

  “He has only nine minutes left,” Jacob said after checking his watch.

  I was super nervous. Could he figure it out in time?

 

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