Your Mother Was a Neanderthal (2 page)

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Authors: Jon Scieszka

BOOK: Your Mother Was a Neanderthal
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“You weren’t supposed to see that,” I said. “I told you to watch my finger.”
“But one detail I haven’t exactly figured out,” continued Sam, “is how to take
The Book
with us so we can get home whenever we want to.”
“You call that a detail?” said Fred.
“But I think the trick might be to just hang on to
The Book
right when that green time-traveling mist starts to swirl around.”
“It sounds almost too simple to be true,” I said.
“Sometimes the best ideas are the simplest,” said Sam. “The ancient Greek mathematician Archimedes discovered he could move the world with just a fulcrum, a long enough lever, and a place to stand.”
“Archy Meadies?” said Fred. “Wasn’t he a shortstop for the Cubs?”
Sam frowned.
Fred slapped him with his hat. “Just kidding, Mr. Brainpower. But what the heck is a fulcrum?”
Sam flipped over his math homework and drew on the back. “The fulcrum is the piece the lever rests on. You put the lever under a big object and over the fulcrum like this ...”
“... Pull down the lever. Big object pops up.”
“Fascinating,” said Fred with a yawn. “But let’s get back to time traveling. Where do we go next? Ancient Egypt? Outer space? The future?”
“Well, obviously,” said Sam, adjusting his glasses, “the farther back in time we go, the more impressive our things will be.”
“Oh, obviously,” said Fred.
“So if we go back to prehistoric times, we will be most impressive.”
“Oh, most impressive,” said Fred.
“Actually, for once, you make great sense,” I said to Sam. “I guess we were pretty stupid not to figure it out sooner.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Sam.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” said Fred. “Let’s pack up and head for the Stone Age.”
“So what should we take?” I asked.
“Weapons,” said Fred.
“Tools,” said Sam.
“What about magic tricks?” I asked.
“Weapons,” said Fred a little louder.
“Tools,” said Sam, a little louder.
“Hold it, you guys,” I said. “Let’s split up. Everybody take whatever you think is best from the house. We’ll meet back here in half an hour.”
“What about your mom?” said Fred. “I’m still in trouble for breaking your lamp.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “She won’t be home until five. It’s only four. We’ll take off for the Stone Age at four-thirty and be back at—”
“Four-thirty,” said Sam. “With plenty of time to finish homework for Mr. Dexter, and put everything back for your mom.”
We scattered. And 30 minutes later, we were standing in my room, loaded for time travel.
Fred held a slingshot and a barbecue fork. A Swiss army knife, a water pistol, and a Walkman hung from his belt. His pockets were stuffed with tapes, marbles, and stick matches.
Sam looked like a walking gadget store. Pens, can openers, potato peelers, scissors, thermometers, buckles, zippers, paper clips, safety pins, hammers, pliers, and a folding saw hung from every available belt loop and pocket.
I wore my magician’s top hat and filled my pockets with magic rings, my wand, flash paper, coins, scarves, ropes, and juggling balls. I held
The Book
with both hands.
I looked in the index for “Cavemen,” but found only “Cave painting—p. 123.”
“Time Warp Trio, prepare to meet your ancestors,” I said and flipped
The Book
open to page 123. There was a picture of a cave painting with a spiral of stars, moons, handprints, and three stick figures. And right on cue, the green time-traveling mist swirled around our feet.
“Hang on to that book,” said Sam.
“Sam, I have to hand it to you,” said Fred. “Most of the time you are an obnoxious know-it-all.” The mist rose to our necks. “But for once in your life, you’ve come up with a great idea.”
The mist closed over our heads and we were gone to the time before time.
THREE
T
he dinosaur roared and shook the branches.
“Yeah, Mr. Great Idea. Go tell him he’s extinct,” said Fred.
We flattened ourselves against the rock. We were trapped.
“Forget talking,” whispered Sam. “Joe, how about some magic? Quick.”
I held up my straw.
“I don’t think so,” said Fred. “Grab these rocks. Maybe we can scare it off.”
Fred picked up a stone and leaned back to throw. That’s when his leaf started to slip. The dinosaur roared. Fred tried to pull up his leaf pants with one hand, and throw with the other. He hopped on one leg and then crashed into Sam and me and knocked us all into a heap. The dinosaur roared again and then suddenly hiccupped and laughed.
Sam and I looked at each other.
The dinosaur laughed.
We all looked closer.
The dinosaur laughed and shook and then lost its head. I mean it really lost its head. The head fell out of the bushes and rolled down a little hill. The bushes kept laughing.
The bushes shook again and three girls stumbled out, laughing so hard they could hardly stand up. They were about the same size as us and wore animal-skin dresses. The tallest had long, wavy red hair. One had short blonde hair and a necklace of shells. And the third girl covered her eyes and wouldn’t look right at us.
We stared at the dinosaur head, then the girls. The shy one hiccupped and they all cracked up again, laughing and pointing at us and then the head.
“It wasn’t that funny,” said Fred, fixing his leaf.
The cavegirl with the necklace seemed to be the leader. She calmed her friends down and motioned for us to come closer. She sized us up as we approached. The red-haired girl signaled something with her hands. Her friends looked at us and cracked up again.
“Knock it off,” yelled Fred. “Or I’ll brain you with this rock like I was planning to.”
All three girls opened their eyes in surprise. They made signs with their hands in front of their mouths.
Sam imitated the sign and nodded. “Yes, we talk.” He pointed to them. “You talk?”
They looked puzzled.
“Do you have any form of verbal communication?” asked Sam. He waved his hands in circles under his chin.
The tall red-haired girl nodded. She ran to the bushes and came back with a cone-shaped thing made of sticks and covered with skin. She lifted the small end to her lips and roared a very loud and very convincing dinosaur roar.
We all jumped. The girls fell on each other laughing again.
“Very funny,” said Fred. “We go back to the Stone Age to be kings, and we wind up doing Stupid Human Tricks for cavegirls.”
We took a closer look at the dinosaur head. It was made out of the same sticks and skin as the megaphone. The eyes were clear red stones. The teeth were made of sharpened bones.
“Let me try to talk to them,” I said. I put one hand on my chest. “Joe.” I touched Sam. “Sam.” Then Fred. “Fred.” I repeated, “Joe. Sam. Fred.”
The leader nodded and pointed to us. “Joe. Sam. Fred.” Then she pointed to herself. “Nat-Li.” She held her red-haired friend by the arm. “Lin-Say.” Then she pointed to her hiccupping pal. “Jos-Feen.”
I repeated, “Nat-Li. Lin-Say. Jos-Feen.”
Nat-Li clapped and smiled. Jos-Feen hiccupped again and looked away.
“Hey, I think we’re talking,” said Sam.
“Isn’t that special,” said Fred. “Now let’s invent the alphabet, write The Book, and get out of here.”
The girls talked and signed to each other. Then Nat-Li spoke to us. “Joe, Sam, Fred.” She pointed to the volcano in the distance. “Ma.”
“I think they want us to follow them,” I said.
“But what if they’re cannibals and are taking us home to their mom so she can cook us up for dinner?” said Fred.
“Not very likely,” said Sam. “Most human cultures had very strict taboos against eating their own kind.”
Something howled in the fern forest behind us.
“We’re not going to find
The Book
lying around here,” I said. “And if we do stay here, we might just end up being someone else’s dinner.”
“That could be a problem,” said Fred. “Let’s go see Ma.”
Lin-Say picked up her megaphone. Nat-Li and Jos-Feen lifted the fake dinosaur head. And we followed them toward the smoking volcano.
“I wonder why they were scaring those other caveguys away,” said Sam. I looked at the sharpened bones on the dinosaur head bobbing up and down ahead of us. I didn’t want to say anything, but I had an uneasy feeling l we were ,about to find out why.
FOUR
W
e followed the three girls up a winding path through the jungle. They walked quickly and silently. We had to run, hop, and jump to keep up with them.
“Ouch ... oooch ... ahhh
...
eee...”
Sam yelped with every step. “My feet are killing me.”
“Invent shoes,” said Fred.
“And I hope they work better than these pants,” I said.
Weird jungle noises surrounded us. Thorny branches scratched us. Sharp stones poked our feet. In five minutes we were bleeding, sore-footed, and exhausted.
The girls hiked along like they were strolling down a sidewalk.
“Are we there yet?” moaned Sam.
“I’m hungry,” said Fred.
“I’m thirsty,” I said.
And suddenly we were there—standing at the edge of a clearing, staring at an opening in the white rock cliff.
“A real cave,” I said.
“Real cavemen,”., said Sam. “Who will gladly make us their leaders, once we bring them civilization.”
Nat-Li motioned for us to sit down outside. Sam and I sat. Lin-Say pushed Fred’s head and motioned for him to sit too.
“Okay, okay. Don’t get so pushy,” said Fred.
Lin-Say made a face and imitated Fred. “O-kay o-kay.”
Jos-Feen laughed. Nat-Li ran into the cave.
We looked around the clearing and listened to the sound of voices in the cave. A blue-gray line of smoke from the volcano above us drifted across the bottom edge of the sun. A very large bird flew in circles high above us.

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