Time-Travel Bath Bomb Read Free

studied the stamp closely and had to admit that Lisa was definitely on to something. Aside from the fact that it was a little warped from being wet, it looked brand-new. The colours weren’t faded and the edges looked crisp and fresh.
    “Maybe it’s a fake, or a reproduction,” he said, but he didn’t sound quite so confident anymore.
    “You think?” Lisa asked.
    Nilly shook his head as if to say maybe not . “Yeah, there is something more here,” he said.
    “Everything about this is upside down,” Lisa said.
    “I thought you just said everything was backwards ,” Nilly pointed out.
    “What did you just say?” Lisa asked.
    “What you said.”
    “Which was?”
    “That everything was backwards,” Nilly said. “You know, the writing.”
    “That’s it,” Lisa said, snatching the card back from him. “That’s it!”
    She studied it. And then gasped.
    “What is it?” Nilly asked, concerned.
    “I think . . . I think Doctor Proctor’s in danger,” she stammered, suddenly very pale. “Read the whole card backwards.”
    Nilly did. And you can too, of course. Right now, for instance . . .
    DONE? DID YOU understand it?
    All right, neither did Nilly, really. “ READ ThIS ,” he read. “ W ANNA COmE HOME AND WEN EEdHELP, NiLLY & LISA. ”
    “So that’s what it says,” Lisa moaned. “Something is very wrong.”
    “Yeah,” Nilly said. “ANNA W isn’t actually a name, it means WANNA. And it should be WE NEED instead of WEN EED.”
    “Not that!” Lisa cried out. “Don’t you get anything?”
    “Uh, no,” Nilly admitted, scratching his sideburns. “For example, I don’t get what he means by READ ThIS. The card? We did that.”
    Lisa stared at the postcard, concentrating hard. “Look at the arrow,” she said. “It’s pointing at the stamp.”
    Nilly stuck his right index finger into his right ear and twisted it round and round while squeezing his right eye shut. This always helped Nilly think – it was like turning the ignition key in a car; it sort of started his brain. There was an audible pop sound when he pulled his finger back out.
    “I’ve got it,” Nilly said, examining his finger with fascination. “The card is a secret message to us, something no one else is supposed to find out about. Doctor Proctor knew that a smart guy like me would realise that there was something strange about the way it was written.”
    Lisa rolled her eyes, but Nilly pretended not to notice.
    “READ ThIS and an arrow pointing to the stamp,” he continued. “That means that the rest of the message is under the stamp! We just have to take it off.”
    “That is exactly what I have been thinking for a while now,” Lisa said.
    Nilly passed the card back to Lisa with a satisfied sniff. “Good thing you have me here to crack these secret codes, don’t you think?”

 

Doctor Proctor’s Cellar
    LISA’S FATHER, THE Commandant, woke up on his sofa with the taste of newspaper ink in his mouth. This was because, as usual, he had fallen asleep with the newspaper over his face and was snoring so vigorously that the curtains over by the window were swaying and the bottom page of the paper – the one with the weather on it – was being sucked into his mouth each time he inhaled. He glanced over at the clock and gave a contented sigh when he saw that it was almost time for bed. But first a chicken sandwich. Or two. He tossed the newspaper onto the coffee table and hefted his large stomach out over the edge of the sofa, thus automatically tipping himself up onto his feet.
    “Hi there,” he said when he walked into the kitchen. Lisa was standing by the counter and Nilly was standing on a chair next to her. The Commandant knew him as the tiny neighbour boy from the strange family that had moved onto Cannon Avenue that spring. The kettle in front of Lisa and Nilly was quivering and sputtering as steam spewed out of its spout.
    “Tell me, aren’t you kids a little young to be drinking coffee?” the Commandant