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Fiction SCOPE.SCHOLASTIC.COM • NOVEMBER 2016 23 Luke doesn’t believe in ghosts . . . until he meets one. ® SHORT FICTION JOHN UELAND 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.

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Page 1: Luke doesn’t believe in ghosts . . . until he meets one. · houses whose front windows look onto the tracks. In one window he spots an elderly couple sitting side by side on lawn

Fiction

SCOPE.SCHOLASTIC.COM • NOVEMBER 2016 23

Luke doesn’t believe in

ghosts . . . until he meets one.

READWRITETHINKCONNECT

THE LANGUAGE ARTS MAGAZINE®

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SHORTFICTION

JO

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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.

Page 2: Luke doesn’t believe in ghosts . . . until he meets one. · houses whose front windows look onto the tracks. In one window he spots an elderly couple sitting side by side on lawn

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.

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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?

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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.

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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

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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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Transcontinental Railroad.

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