The Journey Home

         “Wow!” I breathed. There, in front of my face, on one of the many shelves in Target, was the newest series of Lego’s, each set for only twenty dollars.
         “Wow!” I breathed again. I had been waiting for these Lego’s for a long time. If only I could have one and...
         “Come on, Tim,” I heard my mom’s voice. “Time to go.” And before I could stop myself, I started asking.
         “Could I get this Lego set?” I blurted out, pointing at the container.
         “No, not today,” my mom said. “Maybe when you get some money for your birthday.”
          Shoot! I thought angrily. There goes getting the Lego’s. Now I’d have to wait a couple more months before I could get the darn model.
         The larger majority of my family walked toward the front of Target to buy all our items. I reluctantly followed.
         “That’ll be $39.84,” the cashier said, after all our items had been checked out. Finally, I can get the rest of my schoolwork done, I thought.
         As we were walking toward the exit of the store, I noticed that it was raining hard outside.
         “Boy, what a day,” I mumbled under my breath, and I zipped up my jacket.
         Near the exit doors, there were sensors that scan your bag as you’re leaving to make sure that you’re not stealing anyth - Hey! I didn’t remember walking out of the store that quickly and - Hey! Where’s the rest of my family? The parking lot? The store itself?
         All I could see were sheets of rain coming down, and with every drop of rain, I knew that I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.
         I was standing in knee-high grass, under which there was nothing but mud. I guessed I was in a field, but, because of the rain, I couldn’t see very far.
         Having nothing better to do, I started walking in no particular direction and shouting.
         “Hey!” I shouted as I could. “Is anybody out there? Help! Over here!” It seemed like I was having a shouting contest with the wind and rain, but it was a contest that I could never win. Man, I wish I had my compass and a loud whistle with me right now, I thought.
         Although I didn’t think it was possible, it started raining harder, and this time, the wind was blowing it all in my face.
         After what seemed like forever, I stepped onto what I thought might be a gravel road.
          Finally! I thought. A sign of civilization! If I follow the road, there’s got to be a house eventually!
         And, soon enough, I made out a small building with a light on inside. I quickly found the door and knocked.
         The door opened to an old-looking man with a hairy face and a tattered cap. He was holding a lantern with... without a light bulb!
         “What the blazes?” the man said. “The only thing I’ve seen wetter than you, boy, is a fish!” Neither of us moved for a few seconds. “Well, don’t just stand gaping there out in the rain, come on in! Sit yourself down by the fire, and I’ll get you some tea and biscuits. Then you’ve got some explainin’ to do.” He started to make the tea, then said, “Oh, yes. M’name’s Jerome. Jerome Hornet.”
         “I’m Tim Kennedy,” I said.
         “Eh? Kennedy?” Jerome scratched his chin. “Don’t seem to remember any Kennedy’s around here. But, no matter. First you’ll tell me what you were doing all by yourself in the middle of a thunderstorm.”
         “Well, I don’t really know what happened,” I started. “But I was walking out of Target with my family when-.”
         “What the blazes!” Jerome shouted. “I practice shooting at targets every day, and I don’t know about you, but the targets I use are not big enough for someone like you to walk through!” I didn’t know what to say.
         “Well... I... haven’t... haven’t you ever seen Target?” I finally blurted out. “You know, the department store in the Frenchtown Square Mall. Everybody in Monroe knows about it!” Jerome just started laughing. “Boy, are you someone from a futuristic city called Monroe that is inside of a square target named Frenchtown?” The old man just laughed harder.
         “No, no, no!” I said, a little annoyed. Then I suddenly stopped talking. It was the first time I actually looked around Jerome’s home.
         It was a small, square log cabin. In the center was the small table I was sitting at. On one side, there was a fireplace with a woodpile next to it and a musket above. In a corner, there was a bed with a dresser. And scattered here and there were cupboards, large pots, and crates.
         What I didn’t see, though, were electrical devices: no television set, no computer, no microwave, and no electrical lights. I even wondered if he had a telephone. It looked as though Jerome was reenacting the Civil War times.
         I suddenly felt a pang of homesickness. I needed to get back home.
         “Um, Jerome?” I started. The man had finally stopped laughing. “Do you have a telephone I could use? I really need to call my family.”
         “What in tarnation?! A telephone?!” Jerome said, looking surprised. “Of course I don’t have one, although I’d really like to. Those things cost a fortune!”
         “Do you know where I could find one?”
         “Maybe in Pioneer, but that’s a good five miles away, and you don’t want to be walking in this weather!”
         “Do you mean Pioneer, Ohio?” I asked, suddenly feeling very far away from home.
         “Of course I do! Where else would I be talking about?” Jerome asked. How did I get to Pioneer? I thought, feeling as though Jerome had just confirmed that I was not in Monroe any more. I went to my Boy Scout camp at a camp near Pioneer.
         “Couldn’t we drive there quickly?” I asked.
         “Drive what?” A very confused Jerome said.
         “A car, of course!” The man still looked confused. “An automobile, a gasoline-powered buggy, whatever you want to call them. You have to have heard of cars!”
         “Well, I haven’t,” Jerome said simply, ending the discussion.
         Now everything was confusing. One minute, I was inside a Target store, and the next, I was standing in the middle of a field while a thunderstorm was going on.
         Then, I somehow found an old man in a small shack who was telling me that I was in Pioneer, Ohio, about an hour and half away from Monroe. Plus, this Jerome Hornet has never heard of cars.
         “Wait a minute,” I said, just as a scary and exciting sensation came over me. “What year is it, Mr. Hornet?”
         “Why 1880, of course!” Jerome said.
         “You... you mean it’s not 2006?” I stammered.
         “No, it’s definitely not,” Jerome said, suddenly realizing that I was in the wrong place. “You can stay here for the night, and then tomorrow, you might want to start heading home. I’m afraid I don’t have any... cars... but you can use my bike. As far as which way you should travel, just keep heading east until you hit Toledo.” The old man paused for a minute. “I’ve never traveled any farther than that, boy. You’ll have to find your way from there.”
         In the morning, Jerome and I ate a quick breakfast before my journey. Jerome gave me a pack filled with two loaves of bread, some cheese, apples, flint and steel, a blanket, and a large thermos of tea.
         After I was ready to go, Jerome took me outside to see his bike. It looked like it hadn’t been used in a long time. The chain was rusty, and the green paint was all but gone. I was surprised that the tires still had air.
         “It’s not much,” Jerome said. “But I guess it’ll do.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “I only hope that your journey goes smoothly and that you’ll be able to get back home.” After we said our goodbyes, I climbed onto the bike and started my journey home.
         The bike was hard to ride. It squeaked and clanked with every turn of the very old wheels. I was used to my mountain bike, where you could ride for miles before you would even start getting tired. I had hardly even started before I became breathless.
         It was then that I started appreciating living in the future.
         Everything seemed fresh after the storm. The surrounding environment didn’t look much different than it had on my way to scout camp: wide, open fields, and patches of trees here and there. The only things different were, that instead of cars, there were horses and carriages, and instead of paved roads, there were muddy paths I also noticed that there were fewer houses.
         I finally stopped riding at what I thought might have been seven o’ clock. I tried making a fire, but because of the storm, everything was damp. I had found the best shelter I could (a small grove of trees), but still hoped that it wouldn’t rain.
         I laid out the blanket that Jerome had given me, and quickly fell asleep, tired from the long day.
         I woke up the next day morning to something shaking me. When I opened my eyes, I knew I was dreaming because it was my younger brother, Stephen, who was shaking me.
         “C’mon, Tim!” he said, shaking me even harder. “It’s breakfast time!” I tried falling back to sleep again, but Stephen gave me a hard pinch on the leg.
         “Ow!” I said angrily. Now I knew I wasn’t dreaming. But it was impossible to just wake up in my house. Then I reminded myself that it was just as impossible to walk out of a Target store and be zapped to a totally different time.
         But none of that mattered now. I was home again.
         I quickly decided that I wouldn’t tell anyone about my trip. Who would believe me anyway? I’d more likely get in trouble for lying than have anyone even start to believe.
         The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had an adventure that nobody else could ever have.