It all began on a Monday.
Beth and her cousin Patrick were at Whit’s End. It was a soda shop in a large, old house. Kids thought Whit’s End was the best place in town for ice cream.
But there was a lot more to Whit’s End than scoops and cones. It had more rooms than Patrick could count.
Down the hallway was a radio studio. And a theater to perform plays. Plus a library.
On the second floor, there was a large model train. And the Bible Room. It was like a kids’ museum.
Patrick followed Beth from room to room with wide eyes.
“Are there any video games?” Patrick asked. “The kind with sword fighters? Or guys who fight monsters?”
“No,” Beth said. “But I’ll show you the Imagination Station. It’s kind of like a time machine.”
Patrick liked the words imagination and time machine.
“Where is it?” Patrick asked.
“It’s usually in the corner of the Bible Room,” Beth said. “But it’s not there today. Come on. Let’s ask Mr. Whittaker. Someone said he’s in his basement workshop.”
Patrick followed Beth down the spiral staircase and over to the basement door. She opened it. They went down another set of stairs.
At the bottom, the cousins looked into a large room. It was filled with tables and benches. There were boxes, large drills, and sawhorses. Parts from old ovens and computers sat on the floor.
“This is his workshop?” Patrick asked. He picked up a rusted spring from a nearby table. He dropped it. The spring made a ping sound. It bounced like a toy.
“It looks more like a scientist’s junkyard,” he said.
“Mr. Whittaker invents things,” Beth said.
Beth picked up the spring. She put it back on a table.
Just then Mr. Whittaker came around a corner. He was tall with white hair and a moustache. He also had a kind smile.
“Good morning, Beth,” Mr. Whittaker said.
“Hi, this is my cousin Patrick. He’s my age,” she said. “His mom is my dad’s sister.”
“Hi,” Patrick said.
Suddenly Beth said, “There it is!”
She walked over to a large machine. The front part was round like a helicopter.
“I wanted Patrick to see the Imagination Station,” she said.
Mr. Whittaker said, “I’m sorry. It’s not working. That’s why I brought it down here.”
“May we sit in it?” Beth asked.
“Sure,” Mr. Whittaker said.
Beth waved for Patrick to join her. She climbed onto the seat. Patrick followed her.
“Look at all these buttons!” he said.
He pointed to a long dashboard. It had lots of buttons, dials, and numbers on it. There was also a piece of paper sitting on the dash.
“Too bad it’s not working,” Beth said.
“What does this button do?” Patrick asked. He tapped a large red button with his finger.
The machine came alive. A low hum came from the back of the machine. Lights and buttons blinked on the dashboard. Needles on round dials swung back and forth.
“That’s very strange,” Mr. Whittaker said. “Come out again.”
The cousins obeyed. The machine went dark.
Mr. Whittaker climbed inside. He pushed buttons. Nothing happened. He got out again.
“I don’t know what’s wrong,” he said. “It’s working for you, but not for me.”
“May we try again?” Patrick asked.
“Go ahead,” said Mr. Whittaker.
The kids got into the machine. It lit up again. Whit rubbed his chin slowly. He looked puzzled.
“It wants to take us for a ride!” Patrick said.
“May we go?” Beth asked. “Please?”