The boys reread the note before ripping it up thoroughly. “I suppose we ought to get ready,” remarked Alastair as he began cautiously up the stairs. While James put on his tan trousers and blue jumper, Alastair got some biscuits, apples and two canteens of water. As butter was rationed for the war effort and therefore scarce, Alastair put some jam between two pieces of bread to make some sandwiches. He then grabbed the torch and stuffed it into a canvas sack before rooting around in the drawers of the desk for a compass. He then got into his clothes.
The two stood in front of the book, caps on, bags in hand. “Are you afraid?” asked James.
“A bit,” replied Alastair, grabbing his brother’s hand.
It was like jumping into a cold pool. It took them both a few minutes to pluck up the courage to open the book. It was Alastair who did it. James clung tightly to his big brother’s hand as he leaned forward and took hold of the cover of the book. He flung the cover open forcibly, yet still they remained in the shop. Feeling confused and a bit relieved, the boys sat down in their favourite spot to think. Alastair brought the book and tried again. Still nothing.
Yet as they sat, something was happening. The room was getting very bright, but neither could figure out where the light was coming from. It became so bright in the room that they had to hide their eyes in their jackets. Then, with one great flash, everything went dark.
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