Free London Calling by Edward Bloor Page A

experience, that one day you will feel differently about All Souls.”
    Margaret spoke over my shoulder. “I don’t.”
    Father Thomas looked at her, puzzled. “What?”
    “I’ve been out for five years and I don’t feel differently. I hated All Souls when I was here, and that feeling hasn’t changed.”
    Mom gasped again. “Margaret! That is not true. Why are you saying that?”
    Margaret sighed. “Fine. It’s not true. I’m lying. But what can we do for Martin? He’s not coping the way I coped. As far as I can see, he’s not coping, period.”
    Mom threw up her hands.
    Margaret turned to me. “Tell them what’s going on, Martin. Don’t be afraid to express yourself.”
    Buoyed by Margaret, I blurted out, “I don’t know what I’ll do if you make me come back. I might lose it!”
    Father Thomas nodded, slowly and deliberately. “I see. All right. Here’s the essential question, Martin: Would you commit an act of vandalism, or an act of violence against another student?”
    “I might. I really might. I don’t know.”
    Mom was now in tears, so Father Thomas assured her, “Mary, you know how we bend over backwards to help some students. Why wouldn’t we do the same for Martin?” He turned to include me. “Perhaps he should pursue an independent study assignment for now. Would you like that, Martin?”
    I didn’t answer.
    “Independent study would give you time to resolve some of these personal issues. You would work on your own, at home, but you would also be keeping pace with your classmates. We’ve done this in the past for many students.”
    “What would I study?”
    He walked over to a high filing cabinet and pulled out a drawer. “You would have choices. You could study a life cycle, such as the life cycle of a certain pond. You would write about the history of the pond, the science of the animals and plants in it, and so on.”
    I reached into my pocket and pulled out two folded-up papers. “Can I study this? Can I study the . . . the science of a radio? A classic Art Deco historical radio?”
    Father Thomas took the papers. “Hmm. Let me look these over. If the study is cross-curricular, I don’t see why not. We need to be able to give you credit in science, history, language arts, and reading.”
    I pointed at the schema for the Philco 20 Deluxe. “It’s all in there—science, history, art. I can research tons of stuff and write papers, and Mom can shuttle them back and forth.”
    “Father Leonard coordinates all of the independent studies. I’ll have to clear it with him, but I think this looks like a workable plan.”
    Mom was too stunned to argue, so she quietly agreed. At that point she would have agreed to just about anything to get me out of that office and to keep me, even temporarily, at All Souls.
    As we drove home in icy silence, I thought,
I’ve done it! I’ve succeeded. I don’t have to start school on Monday, because I’m going to do independent study. I don’t have to face Hank Lowery, because I won’t be at All Souls.
    When we turned in to the driveway, I added:
Now, if only I didn’t have to fall asleep again and face that boy named Jimmy.

LONDON: SEPTEMBER 8, 1940
    I’m going to describe this as best I can, just as it happened.
    My first experience with time travel still remains a jumble in my mind. Images and words and sounds kept coming at me very quickly. I was disoriented most of the time.
    I had just spent two days in the basement. I was doing a lot of Internet research on the workings of radio, the key to my independent study plan—the key to my avoiding All Souls Prep for as long as possible.
    I had been up particularly late on Sunday night. I finally fell asleep in my usual position. I had my head next to the Philco 20 Deluxe. I had my eye on its amber dial. I had my ear tuned to its static hiss.
    The first thing I remember after that is a damp smell, like the smell of wet wool, and then a sweet smell, like hair cream. I looked for the radio, and