Free Foxworth Academy by Chris Blewitt Page A

painted on the side of the ship were the seven letters that would make or break their first semester of high school.
    Brett pointed and said, “We’re here to save the Titanic.”
    CHAPTER ELEVEN
    T he class hooted and hollered as they saw Brett and Ally standing in front of the great monstrosity, revealing the ship’s name: R.S.S. Titanic.  The class was in awe, many students staring at the ship’s four gigantic smokestacks towering into the air.  People were already on board, standing on the decks, waving to their loved ones below.  A steady stream of people made their way on board, handing their tickets to an agent from the White Star Line, the ship’s operator.
    “Okay, they have discovered their mission,” Mr. Martin said.  Let’s bring them back and discuss it, shall we?” 
    It was more of a statement, rather than a question.  Mr. Martin went into the utility closet and closed the door.  The students watched as Brett and Ally moved slowly along the harbor dock, admiring the ship’s bulk.  Women cried as their husbands climbed aboard, while children tried to sneak onto the ship, all to no avail. 
    Brett and Ally heard three short sharp blasts of the ship’s whistle.
    Brett turned to Ally.  “What now?  How do we get on board?”
    Seconds later they disappeared from 1912 and emerged soon after from the closet, fully dressed in their own clothes.  Once again the class applauded.
    “Okay, okay,” Mr. Martin said, pushing his hands down as if to quiet to the class.  “We have some time left to discuss.  Good going, the both of you.  You put two and two together and found your mission.  This was the creation of whom?”  He gestured to the class.  “Who wrote down Titanic on their little piece of paper?”
    All of the students’ heads turned and glanced around the classroom until a short, pimply-faced boy raised his hand.
    “Oliver, well done,” Mr. Martin said.  “You’re the one whose paper was pulled and was lit on fire the other day. Yes,” he nodded to Brett and Ally, “you need to save the Titanic.”
    “How?” Ally said.
    Mr. Martin laughed.  “If I told you that, what would be the point of sending you back?  Now, can anyone tell me anything about the Titanic?  And I expect more than what you got out of the movie.”
    “It hit an iceberg,” Brett replied, not waiting to be called on.
    “Genius!” Mr. Martin exclaimed.  “Yes Brett, it did.  It hit an iceberg in the middle of the night; at eleven-forty to be more precise on April 14 th , 1912.  She sank roughly two and a half hours later at 2:20 am.  What else?”
    A few hands rose.  “Yes, Brian.”
    “They didn’t have enough lifeboats.”
    “Correct again.  Due to maritime safety regulations at the time, she did not have to carry enough lifeboats for the passengers and crew.  There were only enough for about twelve hundred passengers.  Unfortunately, she carried over twenty-two hundred souls onboard that fateful night.  Gimme more, something that wasn’t from that darn movie.  Not that it wasn’t a good movie, but I want something you may have learned on your own.”
    The room went still.  All the hands that were up were now down.  Mr. Martin waited patiently until a rather heavy-set girl in the front raised her hand.
    “Yes, Kelly, what have you got?”
    “It was built in Ireland?” she asked, rather than told the professor.
    “Ahh, good Kelly, it was built in Belfast, the capital of Northern Ireland.  Northern Ireland,” he repeated, shaking his head.  “Now that’s an entirely new topic.  Maybe we’ll cover that someday.  Anyone else?”
    Again the class was silent a few moments before they were interrupted by the sound of the bell.  The students gathered their belongings. 
    “Okay class, until tomorrow,” Mr. Martin called out as they left the classroom.
    Brett bumped into Frankie in the hallway, neither of them speaking as they made their way to the lunchroom.
    “How was