Andy, a fourth grader from Indiana, whose mouth runs quicker than his brain, has found himself in trouble again. While hiding out in his mother's car, a tornado hits, and sends him back thousands of years - surrounded by Indians and praying for his life. As he journeys through centuries, he perfects the art of tree-climbing, train-hopping, and landing in just the right spot to be transported to another time. But Andy's free-spirited adventures are tested as he experiences major events in history, where the stormy realities of war, slavery, and racism force him to make life-changing decisions. Midwest Mischief An Historical Indiana Adventure By Jennifer Soboleski AuthorHouse Copyright © 2009 Jennifer Soboleski All right reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4490-3263-0 Chapter One Stuck "Andy, it's getting dark - put a light on," his mother snarled. His mother was always getting on him about something. These days, it seemed like everyone was. She flicked on the lights and stood behind him as he stared at his closed textbook. He could sense her irritation growing by the second, and his folded arms tensed even more as she laid a hand on his shoulder. "Andy, you haven't even opened your book!" In one fluid motion her hands reached over and opened it for him. "Start reading!" Her voice even lower. "No procrastinating - get to it, mister!" Andy turned and gave her the evil eye. She surveyed his messy room - video games all over the floor, dirty clothes everywhere - even hanging from his dresser mirror, dozens of Pokemon cards strewn about, having worn out their welcome long ago. She shook her head in disgust. "I'll be in my room taking a nap, and when I get up, you better be able to tell me what you read. Understood?" "Yes," mumbled Andy, rolling his eyes. "And then you're cleaning this pigsty." She turned on her heel and left. Andy cracked his knuckles and yawned. He knew if he didn't do it he would end up in worse trouble, but he just sat there, not bothering to open the book to the correct page. He was determined to drag this out until the last possible moment. His mother called him "The Great Procrastinator", and he always thought that a compliment until he looked it up in the dictionary. It was only four o'clock in the afternoon, but it felt like midnight to Andy. The wind was picking up, and the sky had darkened. Droplets of rain tapped against the window, streaking it so much it made the trees outside look like one of his watercolors. The day definitely matched his mood now, and he couldn't resist the urge to go out and watch the approaching storm. Although his mother told him to stay indoors during bad weather, he figured since she'd be taking a nap, she wouldn't have to know. He donned a mischievous grin, and grabbed his book and a flashlight. Dodging fat raindrops, he made his way to his mother's car in the driveway. If he absolutely had to read, he'd at least try and enjoy it. Once inside the car, however, his so-called "nerves of steel" seemed to fade. Andy didn't really mind the lightning; it was the thunder that always scared the begeezus out of him. The car rocked like a boat on a wavy lake, and he watched as leaves blew from the trees and scraped against the car. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the downpour stopped. Andy breathed a sigh of relief, thankful the endless battering of rain on the windows had ended. He inched toward the windshield, rubbing the fog from it to see better, and was greeted with an enormous thump, and then another, and another. He backed away, slowly realizing what was happening. He swallowed hard, goose bumps on his arms. Hail. And not just speck-like hail - golf ball-sized hail banging on the car wanting in. Remembering that hail often came before a tornado, Andy made a quick decision. After jumping at a too-close-for-comfort flash of lightning, he snatched his book, opened the car door - and was knocked out cold. * * * "Where in the world am I?" Andy looked around in a daze. He kicked at the ground with his bare feet and raised a cloud of dirt. He searched his surroundings for anything that looked familiar. Where was his house? Where were any of the houses? Where were the roads and power lines? Andy tried to remember what had happened before he got lost. He cracked his knuckles, scratched his head and found a basketball-sized lump. "Holy Cow! The storm!" Had his mother found him, put him to bed, and now he was dreaming? That would seem to be the only logical explanation. Andy peeled his sweaty t-shirt from his chest and gazed at the bright sky. Now he was truly confused. The sweat dripping off his nose was real - this couldn't be a dream. Just moments before, he was in the middle of a terrible storm, and now he was roasting in the hot sun. There were no cars and no people. He sucked in his breath and listened intently - not even the sound of cars. There were cicadas though, a