Gazing at the art room pictures, J.B.
listened half-heartedly to Miss Plum until the jaguar blinked. ...
“James Bud, are you going to spend the rest of the day in art class?” Ms. Plum’s voice cut through the air, jolting J.B. back to reality and his eyes away from the pictures on the wall.
Turning his curly red head toward Ms. Plum, he stammered, “No, Ma'am.” Hastily he jumped to his feet and glanced at his best friend, Wayne.
Wayne stared at him with his big brown eyes. “Are you O.K.? Your face is white, like you’ve seen a ghost! Even your freckles are pale.”
“A ghost, yeah, sort of….” J.B. looked at the jaguar and nodded. "Jaguar."
“Jaguar? What about it?” asked Wayne as they fell in line to go back to their 4th grade room.
“It's eyes moved, like someone was watching us. I'll tell you more later,” he muttered when they entered their homeroom.
J.B. sat rethinking the jaguar episode. Finally he glanced at the clock. Seconds away from dismissal, he had an idea.
RRRRing! The bell sounded and he jumped up, grabbing his backpack.
“Wait, J.B.,” called Wayne.
“What?” He turned to face his sandy haired friend.
“I have to return my library books. Where are you going?” asked Wayne.
“To help my grandfather. You can catch up.” He walked briskly out the door and sprinted down the darkened hallway toward the janitor’s room. The door hung slightly ajar. J.B. quickly pushed it open. Taking a step, he accidently bumped the full pail of water near the door. The pail tipped, spilling water. He lost his footing and slid across the floor. His arm hit the table, knocking the leg loose and dumping the contents of the table on his head and the floor. A jackknife fell by his hand. He picked it up and smiled--his old knife. He thought he'd lost it. He slid it into his pocket.
“Ho….J.B…are you O.K.?” Mr. Hritzay, his grandfather, turned on the main light.
“Well, as O.K. as a wet hen,” laughed J.B.
Giving him a hand, Mr. Hritzay pulled his grandson to his feet and patted him on the head. "Boys--always on some kind of adventure in their minds. You know, you should always be prepared for adventure, just in case."
“Sure, Gramps. Hey, you look tired. Do you need help cleaning today?” asked J.B.
“Did that bump on the head affect your mind?” laughed his grandfather. ... “I can always use help. Why don't you help me set this table up and put all the things back on it?” Within minutes they had the table fixed and Gramps reached for the mop.
Running footsteps sounded outside the door. Wayne rushed into the room. Tripping over the now empty water pail, he slid on the wet floor, crashing into the wooden table. The table toppled over again, spilling the contents over the sprawled Wayne.
“Holy Moly, Wayne……are you O.K.?” Mr. Hritzay rushed over to him
J.B. stood, laughing. “Wayne, you just did a repeat of my trick….how did you know?”
Helping Wayne to his feet, Mr. Hritzay brushed his head and back. ... Mr. Hritzay nodded to his grandson, “Take your buddy and go clean the art room. You need to be finished by 4:30. Sweep the floor, clean the desks, and don’t play with the paper cutter. Got it?” Mr. Hritzay looked at both boys.
“Yes, sir,” J.B. glanced at Wayne.
“Yes, Mr. Hritzay,” Wayne replied.
...
J. B. was first to reach the art room door. He dropped his backpack and ran to the jaguar picture on the wall.
...
J.B. started touching the picture . ... “There is a hole behind this painting. Someone was looking through the jaguar's eyes.”
“So just what does that mean?” asked Wayne.
“I’m going to find out today!” vowed J.B. He stepped over to the closet door on the left side of the picture. Janking the door open, he could make out the two holes that lined up with the jaguar's eyes. Light from the art room filtered through to shine on the back wall of the closet like a lantern ray. He studied the wall and mindlessly started tapping on it. Tap…tap…tap... klunck…. klunck.
“Hear that?” J.B. asked his friend.
“Hear what?” asked Wayne.
“Listen…it sounds weird, like an echo.” J.B. thumped the wall again. “Let’s push it.” He pushed against the closet's back wall. “Give me a hand.” He motioned to his friend.
Wayne stood beside him and together the boys pushed. Nothing moved.
“Well, we pushed it…maybe it will slide,” grunted J.B., unwilling to give up. ... The wall groaned and started to slide to the right! A blast of air came through the foot wide opening. ...
“Oh, my goodness!” J.B. yelled. He waved his arm into the dark hole. “I feel wind!” He pulled his arm back and turned to Wayne. “That’s sooo weird!”
“Yeah,” agreed Wayne, “but look--that’s even more weird.” He pointed to the wall. The wall, the plain brown wall, appeared to be shimmering. Brilliant colors of red, green, and blue cascaded down the length of it. J.B. and Wayne stepped back in amazement.
The colors glowed, then started to separate, revealing a picture. The boys watched, wide-eyed as the image of a ship came into focus. The waters around the ship seemed to be moving, yet the ship remained poised and still.
... “It’s a pirate ship. There’s the Jolly Roger flag. Hey! Look at that lantern on the deck. It’s blinking green!”
“But this is a plain wall,” muttered Wayne.
...
J.B. sniffed the breeze. “Hey, what does that smell like?” He looked at Wayne.
His friend replied, “ It smells like the ocean….it reminds me of when I went to Myrtle Beach. How about you?”
“Yeah,” muttered J.B. “ Funny thing, Wayne, we are miles from any water, much less an ocean..."