“So, to review,” Doc said, “our plan to fix history: total failure.”
“Check,” Abby said.
After kicking Lincoln out of school, Principal Darling had sent Doc and Abby straight to their classroom. They were sitting at their desks. Class was about to start.
Abraham Lincoln was in the parking lot. Or somewhere out there.
After the usual morning announcements, Principal Darling reminded everyone about the wrestling tournament. “This is our big fundraiser for the year, and several famous wrestlers have agreed to donate their time. Can you believe that a man by the name of, I have it here somewhere, ah, yes, Gigantic Phil—”
Kids cheered. He was a pretty popular wrestler.
“—will be here in our very own gym tonight? It’s going to be an exciting evening, and I hope to see you all there! Oh, and one more thing,” she said. “All fourth-grade teachers and classes, please make your way to the library to meet a very special surprise guest. Have a great day, everyone.”
“What’s going on?” Doc asked.
Ms. Maybee was smiling. “You’ll see,” she said.
About a hundred kids crowded together on the library carpet in front of a Smart Board. The teachers sat in folding chairs behind the kids.
Ms. Maybee stood in front of the room with Ms. Ventura.
“We have a real treat for you,” Ms. Maybee said. “A very special guest.”
“That’s right,” Ms. Ventura said. “I’ve been hearing all about the history book you’ve been reading. How Abraham Lincoln just sits in his chair, doing nothing. But the real Lincoln is a lot more exciting. I can assure you—because I’ve just met him!”
Abby leaned toward Doc and whispered. “They must have let him in, after all.”
“He’s a clever guy,” Doc said.
The librarian glared at them. They stopped talking.
“I know you’ll show our guest respect by sitting quietly and raising your hand to ask questions,” Ms. Ventura said. “Now, would you please welcome the greatest president of them all, Mr. Abraham Lincoln!”
Everyone clapped. Doc and Abby stood and cheered.
In walked a man in a black suit and a top hat. And a beard. He looked kind of like Abraham Lincoln.
But it was obviously Mr. Biddle, the gym teacher.
Doc and Abby sat down.
“Greetings, boys and girls!” Mr. Biddle called in a deep, booming voice—a voice that sounded nothing like Abraham Lincoln. “My name is Abraham Lincoln! And I am here to tell you about my life! How awesome is that?”
Kids laughed and hooted.
Mr. Biddle’s beard was held on by a string that looped around his ears. A Chicago Cubs T-shirt was clearly visible under his white dress shirt.
A photo of a log cabin appeared on the Smart Board.
“Thanks, Jenny,” Mr. Biddle said. “I mean Ms. Ventura. What marvelous technology you people have these days!”
He pointed to the screen. “As you may have heard, I was born in—” Mr. Biddle glanced at an index card in his hand. “In 1809, in Kentucky, making me the first president to be born outside the thirteen original states! We lived in a log cabin with just one room and a dirt floor. Ever try sweeping a dirt floor? You sweep for an hour, and there’s still dirt on the floor!”
That got some laughs.
“Next slide, please.”
Ms. Ventura hit a button on her computer. The screen showed a drawing of a boy lying in front of a fireplace, reading.
“We moved to Indiana when I was about seven,” Mr. Biddle said. “Farm chores kept me busy all day, but at night I would read by the light of the fire. It was my fondest wish to attend school, but the nearest schoolhouse was far away. So I got up before dawn each day and walked fifteen miles, through snowdrifts high above my head!”
“Come, now!” a voice called out. “Next you’ll tell us it was uphill both ways!”
“I asked you to raise your hands,” Ms. Ventura said.
But the comment had not come from one of the students. It had come from Abraham Lincoln.
The real one.
