Time-Travel Bath Bomb Read Free Page A

asked them with a yawn. “And at this late hour?”
    “Aye aye, el commandante ,” Nilly said. “We’re not making coffee.”
    Only then did the Commandant notice that Lisa was holding something that looked like a postcard in the cloud of steam billowing up from the kettle.
    “What are you guys up to?”
    “Go back to the living room, Dad,” Lisa said.
    “Hey, I’m the Commandant here!” the Commandant said. “I want to know what you two are up to!”
    “Sorry, el commandante ,” Nilly said. “This is so top secret that if we told you, you would know too much. And you know what happens to people who know too much, right?”
    “What?” the Commandant asked, putting his hands on his hips.
    “They get their tongues cut out so they can’t speak. And all the fingers on their right hands cut off so they can’t write.”
    “And what if you guys discover that I’m left-handed?” the Commandant said.
    “Then you’ll be really unlucky, because then we’ll have to remove the fingers from that hand too.”
    “And what if I can write with the pen between my toes?”
    “Both legs right off, el commandante . Sorry, but spy work is serious business.”
    “Yes, apparently it is,” the Commandant sighed.
    “But everything has a bright side,” Nilly said. “Without legs you could lie on the sofa until Easter without having to wax any skis, wash any socks or tie any shoelaces.”
    “You may be on to something there,” the Commandant said. “But what if I figure out that I can put the pen in my mouth? Or send signals in Morse code by blinking my eyes?”
    “I’m sorry you figured that out, el commandante . Now we’ll be forced to cut off your head right from the start.”
    The Commandant laughed so hard his enormous belly shook.
    “Quit fooling around, you two,” Lisa said. “Dad, get out of here! That’s an order.”
    Once the Commandant had left, shaking his head, Lisa pulled the card out of the steam. They sat down at the kitchen table and Lisa peeled the stamp off very gingerly with a pair of tweezers.
    “It worked!” Lisa exclaimed. “How did you know that steam would loosen the stamp?”
    “Ah, just a little basic forensics,” Nilly said, but actually he looked a little surprised himself.
    “There’s something written under where the stamp was, but the handwriting is too small for me to read it,” Lisa said, holding the postcard closer to the light. “Maybe it would be easier for you since you’re . . . uh, smaller?”
    “What does that have to do with anything?” Nilly asked, looking at her with one eyebrow raised.
    Lisa shrugged. “Smaller people wear smaller clothes sizes and are happy with smaller cars. Why not smaller print, too?”
    “Let me see it,” Nilly mumbled, grabbing the card and squinting at it intently.
    “Nada,” he said, and held out his hand without looking at Lisa. “Magnifying glass please.”
    Lisa darted over to a drawer, found her mother’s magnifying glass and placed it in Nilly’s outstretched hand.
    When he saw what it said, Nilly said, “Aha.” Because what he saw was this:
    SOS. I’ve disappeared in time. Bring the jar labelled “time soap bath bomb” from the lab and come to Paris immediately. Also, bring the French nose clips that are in the drawer marked “Unpatented Inventions”. You can get money for the plane ticket by selling this stamp to the Trench Coat Clock Shop on Rosenkrantz Street. But don’t say anything to the storeowner about where you got the stamp from or where you’re going. You understand, Nilly?

    “Yup, understood,” Nilly mumbled, moving the magnifying glass down.
    In Paris go straight to the Hotel Frainche-Fraille. Once you’re there . . .
    . . . Sincerely, Doctor Proctor
    “Hey!” Nilly yelped. “What is this? The rest is missing.”
    “It must have been washed away by the water,” Lisa whispered breathlessly over his shoulder. “Does it say anything else?”
    Nilly moved the magnifying glass down