luke doesn’t believe in ghosts . . . until he meets one. · houses whose front windows look onto...
TRANSCRIPT
Fiction
SCOPE.SCHOLASTIC.COM • NOVEMBER 2016 23
Luke doesn’t believe in
ghosts . . . until he meets one.
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SHORTFICTION
JO
HN
UE
LA
ND
BY KENNETH OPPEL
ADAPTED FROM “THE KLACK BROS. MUSEUM” BY KENNETH OPPEL, FIRST PUBLISHED IN GUYS READ: OTHER WORLDS, EDITED BY JON SCIESZKA, BY WALDEN POND PRESS AN IMPRINT OF HARPERCOLLINS PUBLISHERS, COPYRIGHT 2013. REPRINTED BY PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR.
SCOPE.SCHOLASTIC.COM • MAY 2016 2524 SCHOLASTIC SCOPE • NOVEMBER 2016
a voice behind them. It’s a man in
a pickup, the window rolled down.
“I’m going up there.” He jerks a
thumb at the back of his truck, which
is filled with plastic-wrapped cases of
drinks and chocolate bars. “I supply
their snack bar. It’s only a 15-minute
drive.”
“You’re sure it’s no trouble?” Luke’s
father asks.
“No trouble.”
Luke stares, silent with surprise.
His father is not impulsive by
nature, but lately he’s been doing
uncharacteristic things. Long walks
at night. Swimming. Teaching
himself guitar. He says these things
are meant to “unlock” himself.
“What about the train?” Luke
reminds him.
“We’ve got five hours,” Dad
replies. “You keep telling me
how bored you are. Let’s go see
something new.”
“They’ve got some interesting
things up there,” says the driver.
“How would we get back?” his
father asks.
“I’ll be there a couple of hours.
I’m coming back this way if you
want to catch a ride with me.”
“Sounds perfect,” says Dad.
I t rises from the empty prairie
like a mirage, a perfect little
village of stone buildings and
fences and barns.
“Weirdest thing, isn’t it?” says
their driver. “These two brothers,
they came out from England about
140 years ago. They ran a circus for
a while. Then they decided to build
a village in the middle of nowhere. IST
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W hen the train arrives in Meadows, the town
seems to Luke to be just like all the other
forlorn places they’ve stopped at along
the way. Over the speaker a woman says,
“Ladies and gentlemen, due to a derailed train, our stop
at this station will be longer than scheduled. We’ll be
here roughly five hours.”
They built a big manor house for
themselves and waited for people to
come. 3 But the railway built too far to the south and wouldn’t give them a spur line. So after a while, it
became a ghost town. One of their
relatives turned it into a museum
about 15 years ago.”
Luke has a sinking feeling there
will be old ladies in white caps and
pleated dresses telling him how to
churn butter. Odd, slow-talking men
in barns will show him how rope is
made. If he’s lucky, a blacksmith will
bang on a horseshoe.
“Incredible story,” Luke’s father
says, looking around.
As his father and the driver make
small talk, they pass through a gate
and pull up outside a little cottage
with a thatched roof. A sign says:
Tickets Snacks Gifts.
There are only three other cars in
the parking lot.
“You’ll get your tickets in here,”
says the man. “I’ll be leaving about
five o’clock.”
“Much obliged,” Luke’s father
says.
“Maybe there’s a cowboy hat you
can buy,” Luke says as they walk in.
His father gives him a withering
look.
Inside is an elderly man behind
the counter. “This is Uriah Klack,”
says the driver. “He owns the place.”
“We’d like to see the museum,”
Luke’s father says cheerfully.
“How old’s the boy?” Mr. Klack
asks, staring hard at Luke.
“Fourteen.”
“Twenty dollars, please.”
Uriah Klack reminds Luke a bit
1TEXT EVIDENCE
What other details tell you that Luke is not happy?
“Want some fresh air?” his
father asks.
Luke looks out the window.
There is a gravel parking lot beside
the weather-beaten train station;
beneath curling shingles, water
drips from a busted downspout.
Across the road are several bleak
houses whose front windows look
onto the tracks. In one window he
spots an elderly couple sitting side
by side on lawn chairs, peering
out. The man raises a pair of
binoculars to his eyes.
“See that?” Luke says to his
dad. “This is big excitement in
Meadows.”
They step off the train. The air
has a bite to it. There is snow on
the rooftops and on the grass.
Luke looks back at the train, the
rolling torture chamber that’s been
taking them across the country.
He’s spent two nights aboard it
already.
It is March break, and Dad has
decided this would be a good trip
for them to take together.
1 “I didn’t want to come on this trip,” Luke says.
of Grandpa: tall, like his bones are
too big for his skin. His face is a
bit sunken in, and his cheekbones
stand out like knobs of shiny,
polished wood. His knuckles bulge.
“You’ll want to start in the manor
house,” says Mr. Klack. “Turn right
out the doors.”
The manor house is an
impressively large pile of
stones. The lower floor
is all trestle tables covered with
little things. To Luke it looks like a
school craft fair: miniature carts
and horses, model farm buildings,
and general stores with ancient
tinned goods arranged around
them. There are Native American
dolls interspersed with Disney toys,
an ancient cash register, a worker’s
time clock.
“It’s not really a museum at all, is
it?” Luke whispers.
His father shakes his head.
“It’s just a bunch of stuff.”
Luke heads upstairs alone and
meanders down the main hallway.
He keeps checking the time on his
phone. He doesn’t want to miss
their ride back to the station. He
passes only one other family, and
the girl looks as bored as he does.
They stare numbly at each other in
mute sympathy.
When Luke enters the parlor, his
eyebrows lift with interest. It’s set up
like a circus sideshow, divided into
many stalls with tattered but colorful
posters over each one: “Cordelia
the Human Snake!” and “The
Cardiff Giant!” and “The
Indestructible Heart!”
SCOPE.SCHOLASTIC.COM • NOVEMBER 2016 25
“You’re loving this trip,” his father
says.
“If you say so.”
His father sighs and looks at him.
“Not at all?”
Luke shrugs. Shrugging is very
efficient. It could mean anything.
“I’ve told you, it’s a trip I’ve
wanted to take for a long time.”
“ ’Cause you’re blocked.”
His father inhales and frowns.
His father is a writer and hates that
word.
They walk to the edge of the
parking lot. 2 The road goes nowhere in both directions.
“What are we going to do for five
hours?” asks Luke.
A big tractor-trailer pulls out of
the parking lot, revealing a white
sign posted by the road.
KLACK BROS. MUSEUM
15 MILES NORTH
His father sees it too. “I love
it,” he murmurs. “Klack Brothers
Museum. I wonder what kind of
stuff they have there.”
“I can take you, if you like,” says
2FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE
All roads go somewhere. What does the author mean? What does this
description emphasize?
3VOCABULARY IN CONTEXTWhat do you think a spur line is?
AS YOU READ Think about how the author uses real historical events in this story.
26 SCHOLASTIC SCOPE • NOVEMBER 2016 SCOPE.SCHOLASTIC.COM • NOVEMBER 2016 27
staring sadly at the wall. The boy is
dressed in drab canvas trousers and
a jacket. The collar and buttons look
old-fashioned.
“That’s a nice seat he has there,
eh?” says Mr. Klack. “We had an
armchair for him a while back, but
he seems to like the stool better.”
The ghost boy taps the heel of
one of his scuffed shoes against the
stool rung—it’s the only part of him
that’s moving. His chest doesn’t rise
and fall. But then his head turns.
Luke takes a few steps to one side,
and the ghost boy’s head turns to
follow. How’s this trick managed?
It seems way too sophisticated for
old Mr. Klack and his halfhearted
museum.
“We take good care of him,”
says Mr. Klack. “All sorts of familiar
things from China. That’s where he’s
from.”
“Hello,” Luke says to the ghost
boy, curious to know the limits of
this illusion.
“Doesn’t talk much,” says
Mr. Klack. “Not since I’ve had
him. My father says he used to
talk sometimes. Probably got
discouraged.”
That’s convenient, Luke thinks.
The ghost boy opens his mouth
and says something, so softly Luke
can’t hear.
“See?” says Mr. Klack excitedly.
“I had a feeling he’d talk to you!”
The ghost boy’s lips part, and he
speaks once more. Luke thinks he
makes out a foreign language.
“I don’t know what he said.” Luke
senses he’s being made a fool of,
and he doesn’t like it.
Eagerly, Luke moves from stall
to stall. The human snake is a
disappointment, just some big
scraps of snakeskin crudely sewn
together into a torso. The Cardiff
Giant is more impressive—a huge
body encased in a stone slab. 4 It reminds Luke of those fossilized people they recovered from Pompeii after the volcano erupted.
The indestructible heart is the
creepiest of all. It floats inside a big
tank of murky water. It looks pretty
real to Luke, plump and moist.
5 A little card underneath reads: “The heart of poet Percy Bysshe Shelley, which remained undamaged even after the body was cremated! Sometimes it gives a beat!”
At the far end of the room is a
windowless wooden shack. A sign
over the door says: Ghost Boy.
Luke tries the door and finds it
locked.
“That’s extra,” says Mr. Klack,
appearing suddenly to Luke’s right.
6 He smells like clean laundry and cough drops.
“What’s the ghost boy?” Luke
asks.
“That’s my star attraction. It’s
two dollars, just a little extra. I’ll let
you both in for three.”
Luke looks over to see his dad
approaching.
“Sounds like a deal,” his father
says, winking at Luke.
Luke’s pretty sure it’ll just be
some ancient mannequin,
but he feels a haunted-house
thrill as Mr. Klack unlocks the door
Luke’s father reaches out a hand.
“He doesn’t like being touched,”
Mr. Klack says. “There’s this thing
he does . . . ”
Luke’s father touches the ghost
boy on the shoulder, then pulls his
hand back quickly with a pained
grunt. He pulls a tissue from his
pocket and spits into it.
“It’s like having aluminum foil
crammed into your mouth!”
“Are you serious?” Luke asks.
“Told you,” Mr. Klack says.
“It’s not real,” Luke blurts out, a
little scared now. “Dad?”
“So how did you come into
possession of a ghost?” Luke’s
father asks, ignoring his son.
Luke wants to bolt from the
room, but he’s transfixed by the
sound of Mr. Klack’s voice.
“He was in my great-grandfather’s
collection. From the circus days.
Uriah had all sorts of freaks and
oddities in his show, and he was
proud of his ghost boy. Exhibited
him all across the country. You see
that handbill there?”
He points to a small framed
poster on the wall, advertising the
Klack Bros. Circus. There’s so much
text on the poster, it takes Luke a
moment to find it: “The Ghost Boy
of Peking!”
“There’s no end to the things he
collected,” Mr. Klack continues.
“I’m still digging it all out from the
attics and barns.”
He nods at the ghost boy.
“He was just a jar of ash. I was
about to throw it out when I saw
him,” Mr. Klack says. “He comes
with the ashes, you see.”
with his shaky hand. Inside, a single
bulb casts pale red light through a
Chinese lantern. Incense can’t quite
hide the smell of mildew.
There is a black lacquered chest
against one wall, with many square
drawers. Chinese ginger jars are
arranged on its surface, along with
an incense burner, some kind of
writing board, and ink brushes.
Tacked up are pictures of the Great
Wall of China and mountains,
looking like they were torn from
calendars or magazines. In the
middle of the room is a stool with a
red cushion.
“There’s no one in here,” Luke
says, but just hearing himself say it
makes the hairs on his forearm lift.
“Maybe he’s on his break,” his
father chuckles.
“He’s there on the stool,” says
Mr. Klack.
Luke stares. “I can’t see
anything.”
“Don’t look right at him,” says
Mr. Klack. “Look off to the side for
a bit.”
Luke does so. In his peripheral
vision, a smudge appears atop the
stool. He glances over quickly, and
it disappears. He looks off again,
and this time the smudge gains
definition and sharpens into limbs,
a torso, and the head of a boy about
Luke’s age.
“Do you see it?” he asks his dad.
“That’s a clever trick. Some kind
of video projection.”
Luke looks for a projector on
the ceiling or a dusty beam of light
but sees nothing. He studies the
boy on the red-cushioned stool,
Mr. Klack nods at a slim jar atop
the chest of drawers.
“His actual ashes are in there?”
Luke asks.
“Why’s it tied to the wall?”
Luke’s father wants to know.
“He tries to shake it off the shelf
sometimes,” Mr. Klack remarks.
“I see,” Luke’s father says
solemnly.
“Why are you talking like you
believe this?” Luke demands.
When his father looks at
him, Luke knows he’s
not joking. Luke can’t
stand it a second longer. He steps
forward and puts his hand on the
ghost boy’s shoulder. Cold numbs
his fingers. He sees a mountain,
feels its ice-cold breath. Workers
with tools step toward a hole
in the rock face, and a terrible
sensation of dread wells from it.
Luke pulls back, terrified.
“He was talking to you, wasn’t
he?” says Mr. Klack, eyes shining
with expectation.
“I . . . saw some pictures. People
on a mountain.”
7 Luke wants a drink, something to wash the taste of soot and desolation from his mouth.
“He seems to like you,” says
Mr. Klack. “He could use some
company. A boy his own age.”
“What?” Luke says, shaking his
head. He has a swimmy feeling of
unreality.
“He’s getting faint. I don’t
want him fading away
altogether,” says Mr. Klack.
4REFERENCE
Mt. Vesuvius erupted in 79 a.d. How does this reference help you
imagine the scene?
5MOOD
What is the mood as Luke explores the parlor? What creates this mood?
6SENSORY DETAILS
Nice detail! Find three more sensory details the author uses to describe
what happens in the shack.
7FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE
Desolation is a feeling that doesn’t really have a taste. But if it did, what kind of taste might it have? S
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28 SCHOLASTIC SCOPE • NOVEMBER 2016
“Why is he here?”
Luke looks around the dining
car. No one else has noticed the
ghost boy. He’s just a pale smudge,
easily dismissed.
“Maybe there is something he
wants to tell you,” Dad says quietly.
9 Luke can’t believe they’re talking like this. Like it’s all true and this is really happening. He
feels the presence of the ghost like
a cold weight in his stomach. He
puts down his fork.
“I don’t get it. How’s he here?
Mr. Klack said he stays with his
ashes, and his ashes are in the
museum.”
His father says nothing. He
reaches into his pocket and lifts
out the slim jar of ashes.
Luke stares, horrified. “Mr.
Klack put it in your pocket?”
“I took it.”
“Why?” Luke asks.
His father’s reply is simple. “He’s
got a story.”
“You stole the ghost!”
“No one else’ll ever have a story
like this.”
“You stole—”
“How can you steal a ghost?” his
father says impatiently. “It doesn’t
belong to anybody. You can’t own a
ghost. All I want is his story.”
“He can’t tell you his story!”
“He’ll tell you. You had a rapport
with him,” his father says.
Luke laughs. “How would you
know? You know all about ghosts?”
“Aren’t you even curious?”
His father sniffs dismissively.
“Or maybe you’re not interested in
anything.”
8 Mr. Klack smiles and all the hollows and peaks of his face are exaggerated into a puppet mask.
“We should get going,” his
father says.
“Well, it’s a shame we can’t
let these two have more time
together,” says Mr. Klack, his brow
furrowed. “I’d like to know what the
boy’s story is.”
“Goodbye,” Luke’s father says to
Mr. Klack.
As he moves down the hallway,
Luke is aware of Mr. Klack
watching them, just standing
there, staring. He wants to run, but
his father is beside him, walking
steady, though there’s a tense
expression on his face. In movies,
men like Mr. Klack unexpectedly
produce deboning knives, or
needles filled with lethal drugs.
Back on the train, Luke eats
hungrily in the dining car.
His father seems distracted.
They haven’t really said much about
the Klack Bros. Museum. Already it
seems far away, disappearing over
the horizon like the train station
they left an hour ago.
Luke eats some mashed potatoes
and looks out the window. Fields
roll past in the last light of day.
He stops chewing.
In the reflection, Luke sees
someone sitting beside him. He
turns and looks at the empty seat.
“Dad?” he whispers.
“I see him too.”
Luke stares straight ahead and
sees the faint ghost boy in his
peripheral vision, looking at him.
SCOPE.SCHOLASTIC.COM • NOVEMBER 2016 29
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10 “It’s not my fault you’re blocked,” Luke says angrily. “Think up your own stories.”
I t’s late and the train is quiet.
Luke is looking for a place to
sleep. He can’t sleep in the
room with his dad—or with him.
On his way to the rear of the
train, Luke passes some empty
berths. He slips inside one of
them. He zips up the thick curtain,
stretches out, and is soon asleep.
But he’s aware of not sleeping
well and being cold. He wakes in
darkness, shivering. Beyond the
window, a moon hangs over the
hills. In the splash of silver light, he
sees the ghost boy hunched at the
end of his berth, knees drawn up
to his chin.
Luke springs out of bed and
backs up against the wall, his hand
knocking against something hard.
The jar of ashes. His father must
have put the jar there while he was
sleeping. What was he hoping?
That Luke would get the ghost’s
story? He starts to fumble his way
out of the berth, but he catches
sight of the ghost boy, eyes wide
with grief—and hope.
Luke hesitates.
“What do you want?” he
whispers.
Urgently, the boy says
something that Luke can’t hear.
“I can’t hear you— ”
But the ghost boy just keeps
talking.
“Stop, stop,” Luke says in
frustration and pity. “It’s not
working.”
He chews his lip. He looks out
the window. Then he reaches out
and puts his hand on the boy’s
shoulder.
The cold pulls him in. There
is a mountain and a work
camp cut into the cliff. An
old-fashioned locomotive steams
impatiently at the end of the line
while men unload steel rails. Luke
feels himself moving toward a gash
blasted into the side of the cliff,
and then he’s inside, descending
with a group of Chinese men.
Darkness squeezes him. At the end
of the tunnel, these men drill holes,
inserting explosives. Then the men
all rush back and crouch behind
barriers. There is a terrible sound,
and smoke and grit boil past.
Then the ground stops shaking.
The smoke begins to clear. Men
are standing. Without warning, a
second explosion bowls them over,
and a thunderclap comes from the
rock above before it collapses.
Luke pulls his hand back and
shakes it to get the circulation
going. His heart is racing.
“You worked on the railroad,” he
whispers to the ghost boy. Luke had
studied it last year in school. They
had to blast through the mountains
to lay the tracks. Thousands of
Chinese immigrants worked the
most dangerous jobs. Many died.
“Is that what happened to you?”
Luke asks. “You died in a blast?”
The ghost boy points excitedly
out the window. Luke cups his
hands against the glass and peers
out at the mountains spiking into
the sky. Close behind the tracks,
a dark river runs between snowy
banks. He looks wonderingly back at
the ghost boy.
With great effort, the boy raises
his arm and mimes throwing
something to the floor.
“You want me to break the jar?”
Luke says.
The boy does it again, more
emphatically, then points out the
window. To Luke it can mean only
one thing. The ghost boy wants to
be released.
“Yes,” Luke says, “I will.”
He pulls his shoes on and unzips
his berth. He grabs the jar and heads
for the back of the car. The window
there has a complicated latch, and it
takes him a moment to figure it out.
He opens it. Cold wind swirls in. He
lifts the jar.
11 From the corner of his eye, Luke sees the ghost boy smiling. Luke hurls the jar out the
window. For a second it catches
the moonlight as it curves toward
the river, and then he can’t see it
anymore.
When Luke returns to the
cabin, his father sits up in
his bunk and looks at his
son expectantly.
“Invent your own stories,” Luke
says, climbing into his own bunk.
It takes him a long time to fall
asleep. When he finally does, he’s
thinking of the black river beside the
tracks. The water would carry the
ashes down through the mountains,
through slow curves and
surging gorges, to the sea. •
8FIGURATIVE LANGUAGEMetaphor! What does the author
mean?
9CHARACTER
What is going on in Luke’s mind? Does he really not believe the
ghost is real?
10CHARACTER
Why is Luke angry?
11CHARACTER
Why do you think the ghost boy wants to be released?
30 SCHOLASTIC SCOPE • NOVEMBER 2016
I t’s May 10, 1869. You are 13 years old, and you and your dad have just arrived in a remote corner of Utah to witness something spectacular.
Promontory Summit, Utah,
vibrates with activity. You and
your dad join the throngs of giddy
bystanders gathered around a slick-
looking railroad track glittering
in the sun. Men give speeches.
Musicians blare their trumpets.
Photographers set up giant cameras.
You watch a man in a fancy suit lift
a hammer and thump ! He pounds a
spike into the track.
The Transcontinental Railroad—
one of the most impressive feats of
engineering in American history—is
complete. This means that for the
This Railroad Changed America
SCOPE.SCHOLASTIC.COM • NOVEMBER 2016 31
Two companies were responsible
for building this railroad: the
Central Pacific, which built eastward
from Sacramento, California, and
the Union Pacific, which built
westward from Omaha, Nebraska.
(There was already a railroad that
connected Omaha to the east coast.)
The U.S. government gave money
to each company for every mile of
track it laid. So the two companies
competed to lay the most track in
the shortest amount of time.
It wasn’t easy work. Food, water,
and supplies had to be hauled
along with the heavy materials for
laying the track. Workers had to dig
tunnels through mountains, which
involved using dynamite to blast
giant holes into the rock. Many died
in accidental explosions. Workers
also had to contend with
avalanches in winter
and scorching heat in
summer.
After all, this was wild,
untamed frontier land.
Diff icult ConditionsThe land wasn’t the
only reason workers had
it tough. To get the railroad built
as fast and as cheaply as possible,
the Central Pacific brought more
than 10,000 men over from China.
They were paid only $1 a day (about
$17 in today’s money) to perform
hard and dangerous tasks, and they
were often mistreated. The Union
Pacific didn’t treat its workers—
most of whom were immigrants
from Ireland and former Civil War
soldiers—much better.
Sometimes construction was
sabotaged by Native Americans,
who were angry with the U.S.
government. The Native Americans
lived on the land the railroad
companies were now building
through—land that the government
had promised not to encroach on.
A New DayThe building of the railroad
certainly had a dark side. Still, the
Transcontinental Railroad is one
What’s more, the railroad really
did unite the country. Americans
on opposite coasts could more
easily visit each other. Newcomers
arriving in New York could travel
west and settle the frontier. Supplies
could be loaded into railcars
and shipped thousands of miles,
enabling people in one state to buy
things made in other states. The
railroad made life easier and more
comfortable.
Anything Seems PossibleSo what about you, back at
Promontory Summit?
After the crowd disperses, you
stand transfixed, staring at that
track stretching as far as you can see
in either direction. You find yourself
dreaming about where it leads: To
the west, it winds through
the snow-capped peaks
of the Sierra Nevada
mountains and all the
way to the deep blue
of the Pacific Ocean.
To the east, it stretches
hundreds of miles
across the great plains of
Nebraska.
These are faraway places you
never dreamed you would get to
see. Now, though, anything seems
possible. •
Consider the historical events described in “This Railroad Changed America.” How does author Kenneth Oppel use these events to develop the plot of “The Ghost Boy”? Answer this question in a well-organized essay. Use text evidence. Send your essay to RAILROAD CONTEST. Five winners will each get Kenneth Oppel’s The Boundless. See page 2 for details.
WRITING CONTEST
GET THIS ACTIVITY ONLINE
Informational Text
first time, it is possible to take a
train from New York all the way to
California.
As news spreads across the U.S.,
people celebrate. Chicago holds a
parade. Washington, D.C. rings the
Capitol Bell. San Francisco blasts its
cannons.
It’s hard to believe that the Civil
War ended only a few years earlier.
After all the bloodshed, the country
has been trying to put itself back
together. And perhaps nothing
better symbolizes the unifying of
America than this railroad.
Convenience and SafetyBefore that exciting day in
1869, getting across the U.S. was a
nightmarish journey that could take
months. People mostly traveled in
slow, uncomfortable horse-drawn
wagons across parched deserts,
windswept plains, and rocky
mountains—battling starvation
and disease along the way.
The Transcontinental Railroad
changed all that. Now, you could
get from one coast to the other in
as few as 8 days—in the safety of a
train car. JIM
McM
AH
ON
/MA
PM
AN
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150 years ago, the building of a railroad united a country torn apart by war BY KRISTIN LEWIS
of the greatest accomplishments
in American history. The engineers
who made it happen had enormous
vision—and guts.
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Mexico
Canada
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CENTRALPACIFIC UNION
PACIFIC
0 100 200 MI
Gulf of Mexico
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Rocky Mountains
Thousands of workers from China helped build America’s
Transcontinental Railroad.
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