Civil War on Sunday (2 page)

Jack looked out his window.

It was a dreary Sunday afternoon. There were dark clouds in the sky.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Jack stared down the street at the Frog Creek woods.

When is the magic tree house coming back?
he wondered.

“Hey, guess what!” Annie said. She charged into Jack’s room. “I saw a light flash in the woods!”

“It was just lightning,” said Jack.

“No, it was magic! A swirl of light!” said Annie. “I think the tree house just came back!”

“I’m sure it was just lightning,” Jack said. “Didn’t you hear the thunder?”

“Yeah,” said Annie. “But let’s go check anyway.”

She started out of Jack’s room. Then she peeked back in.

“Bring your backpack, just in case!” she said.

Jack was always glad for a chance to look for the magic tree house. He grabbed his backpack and followed Annie down the stairs.

“Where are you two going?” their mom called.

“Out to play,” said Annie.

“Don’t go far,” said their mom. “And come in if it starts to rain.”

“We will,” said Jack. “Don’t worry.”

They slipped out the front door. Then they ran up the street and into the Frog Creek woods.

The woods were dark under the storm clouds. A cool wind shook the leaves.

Soon Jack and Annie came to the tallest oak tree.

“Oh, man,” said Jack. “You were right!”

The magic tree house stood out against the gray sky.

“Morgan!” called Annie.

There was no sign of the enchantress.

“Let’s go up!” said Jack.

He grabbed the rope ladder and started up. Annie followed.

They climbed into the tree house. It was hard to see in the dim light.

“Look,” said Annie.

She pointed to a piece of paper and a book lying on the floor.

Jack picked up the paper. Annie picked up the book.

“Listen,” said Jack. He held the paper close to the window and read aloud:

Dear Jack and Annie,

“Camelot is in trouble?” said Jack. “What’s that mean?”

“I don’t know,” said Annie. “But we better hurry and find these writings. Let’s go look for the first:
Something to follow
.”

“I wonder where we should look for it,” said Jack. “What’s the title of the book you’re holding?”

Annie held the book close to the window to read the title.

“Yikes,” she said softly. She showed the book to Jack.

On the cover was a painting of a peaceful-looking field and a blue sky. The title said
The Civil War
.

“The Civil War?” said Jack. “Cool.”

Annie frowned.

“
Cool?
” she said. “War’s not cool.”

“It sort of is,” Jack said uncomfortably. He knew war was bad. But some parts of it seemed fun, like a game.

“I guess we’ll find out,” said Annie. She pointed at the cover. “I wish we could go there.”

Thunder boomed through the woods.

The wind started to blow.

The tree house started to spin.

It spun faster and faster.

Then everything was still.

Absolutely still.

Glaring sunlight filled the tree house.

“It’s really hot here,” said Jack.

“Especially in these clothes,” said Annie.

Their clothes had magically been changed. Annie wore a long dress. Jack wore scratchy pants and a long-sleeved shirt. His backpack was now a leather knapsack.

“Where are we?” asked Annie.

They looked out the window together.

The tree house had landed in a tree at the edge of a field—the same field on the cover of the book.

“It looks so peaceful,” said Jack. “Where’s the Civil War?”

“There,” whispered Annie with a shiver. She pointed to the woods beyond the field.

Jack saw a soldier riding a horse out of the woods. The horse was covered with mud. The soldier’s blue uniform was torn. His arm was bloody.

Another man rode into the field. His blue uniform was in rags, too. His head was ban-daged.

“Oh, man,” whispered Jack. “Who are they?”

He opened the Civil War book and found a painting of some soldiers in blue. He read to Annie:

“So they’re Union soldiers,” said Jack. He pulled out his notebook and wrote:

Jack looked at his book again. He read aloud:

“That’s so sad,” said Annie.

Jack wrote in his notebook:

“Wow, they keep coming,” Annie said.

Jack looked up. More Union soldiers were coming through the field. These didn’t have horses.

They all looked sad and weary. Some of them limped. Some of them helped others along. One man stumbled and fell down.

“I have to help—” said Annie.

“Wait!” said Jack.

She started down the rope ladder.

“You can’t help!” said Jack. “A kid can’t help … ”

But Annie kept going.

“Don’t forget—we have to find some special writing for Morgan!” Jack called in a loud whisper. “
Something to follow!
”

He packed the Civil War book and his notebook in his knapsack. Then he started down the ladder.

When he stepped onto the ground, Jack saw Annie in the distance.

She was holding her hand out to the fallen soldier. She helped him to his feet.

The soldier slowly started walking again. Annie walked beside him.

“Oh, brother,” said Jack. And he hurried to catch up with Annie.

The sun was scorching hot as Jack ran through the dry field. He was sweaty in his scratchy clothes.

He caught up with Annie. Together, they walked silently with the soldiers.

At the edge of the field was a steep hill. Everyone stopped and gazed at the sight below them—rows and rows of white tents.

“Thank goodness,” said the soldier beside Jack. “We’re saved.”