Twister on Tuesday - Mary Pope Osborne [3]
She and Jack walked up the little hill. At the top, they saw that the rusty pipe was rising out of a wooden roof.
They walked around to the other side of the hill.
Beneath the wooden roof was a door. The door seemed to open into the hill itself.
“What is this?” said Annie.
“Let’s find out,” said Jack.
He studied their research book until he found a black-and-white photograph. The photograph showed the same hill with the door.
Jack read aloud:
Since the prairie did not have many trees, wood was hard to find. So pioneers often made their houses out of sod bricks, which were blocks of earth cut out of the prairie. Sometimes a sod house was dug out of the side of a hill. It was called a “dugout.”
Jack pulled out his notebook. He wrote:
Then Jack read more to Annie:
Tornados, or twisters, are common on the prairie, so many dugouts had storm cellars. A storm cellar was like a rough basement below the ground. During a twister, a storm cellar is the safest place to be.
“Wow, maybe we’ll see a twister,” said Annie.
“I hope not,” said Jack. Then he read on:
A pioneer family built this dugout for a home. When they moved, the dugout became a schoolhouse. The schoolhouse had only one room. It also had a storm cellar beneath it.
Jack quickly wrote:
“Hey! This is the place!” said Annie.
Jack looked up from his writing.
“What place?” he asked.
“Where’s the best place to find our special writing—something to learn?” asked Annie.
Jack smiled.
“A school,” he said.
Annie ran to the wooden door and knocked loudly.
A moment later, the door creaked open. A girl peeked out. Her hair was in a tight bun, as if she were a grownup. But she didn’t look more than sixteen or seventeen years old.
“Hi, I’m Annie,” said Annie. “This is my brother, Jack.”
The girl opened the door wider.
“Hello, Jack and Annie,” she said. “I’m your teacher, Miss Neely.”
“You’re the teacher?” said Jack. Miss Neely seemed way too young to be a teacher.
“Yes!” she said, smiling. “Come in. You’re late.”
It was warm and dry inside the schoolhouse. Several oil lamps lit the darkness.
“Class, meet Annie and Jack,” the young teacher said.
What class? thought Jack.
There were only three kids.
On one bench sat a small boy and a girl. The boy looked about Annie’s age. The girl looked a little younger. On another bench sat a tall boy. He was tough-looking.
“Welcome to our first day of school,” said the young teacher.
“Today’s your very first day?” said Annie.
“Yes, and our first day in this dugout. The family who lived here left for California a week ago,” said Miss Neely.
Jack and Annie peered around the room. The walls were made of dirt. The floor was made of wood. It was covered by a worn rug.
Miss Neely’s desk was made from a barrel. A small coal stove was near her desk. A crate held a water jug, chalk, and two small blackboards.
“It’s a nice school,” Annie said politely.
“Thank you. We’re very grateful for it,” said Miss Neely. “And where do you live?”
“Well, we actually … ,” Jack started. Then he stopped—he wasn’t sure what to say.
“Actually, we don’t live around here,” Annie said. “We’re passing through.”
“You must be from the wagon train I saw this morning,” Miss Neely said.
Annie nodded.
Jack smiled.
Good work, Annie, he thought.
“We can only stay a little while,” he said.
“How exciting for you,” said Miss Neely. “Heading west on a wagon train. Where are you going?”
“California,” Annie said.
“California! That’s wonderful! Isn’t it, class?” Miss Neely said to the others.
“Yes, ma’am!” said the two younger children.
The older boy barely nodded.
“Have you ever been to school before?” Miss Neely asked Annie.
“Yes, ma’am,” Annie said. “We both know how to read and write. Jack’s one of the best readers you’ll ever meet.”
“My! Isn’t that wonderful, class?” said Miss Neely.
“Yes, ma’am!” said the younger children.
The older boy gave Jack a scowl.
“Not exactly the best,” Jack said modestly.
“I love to read,” said Miss Neely. “I’ll read any book I can get my hands on.”
“Me too,” said Jack.
“Then perhaps