Gigantic Phil and Abraham Lincoln slowly circled each other in the ring.
Lincoln leaned forward, reaching out his long arms. He grabbed for Gigantic Phil, but Phil hopped out of the way.
They circled each other again.
Gigantic Phil lowered his head like a ram and charged. He hugged Lincoln around the waist, trying to twist him to the ground. Lincoln staggered but would not go down.
Lincoln broke free and backed away. Then he darted forward, seized the sides of Gigantic Phil’s tiny shorts, and lifted the large man off the mat. The crowd gasped in shock as Lincoln flipped Gigantic Phil up onto his shoulders.
“Take it easy, bud,” Phil said. “This is just for fun.”
“I’m having tremendous fun!” Lincoln shouted.
Gigantic Phil started swinging wildly but couldn’t grab hold of any part of Lincoln. Lincoln twirled around and around, spinning Phil like a helicopter blade.
Phil finally broke free and dropped six feet, crashing hard onto the mat. He was dizzy. And mad.
He grabbed Lincoln’s legs and lifted, sending Lincoln tumbling. As Abe tried to get up, Phil grabbed his arm and tossed him across the ring. Lincoln flew into the ropes, bounced off, and stumbled back toward Phil. Phil drove his shoulder into Abe, knocking him flat on his back.
Lincoln sat up, his head spinning.
“Perhaps I’m too old for this,” he said.
The crowd went wild when they saw Gigantic Phil climb onto the ropes.
Abby was the only one who noticed a short woman in a long dress make her way toward the wrestling ring.
Just as Gigantic Phil was about to leap, Mary Lincoln climbed into the ring. Phil stopped himself, balanced on the top rope, looking down.
Mrs. Lincoln looked from Phil to her husband and back to Phil.
She said, “What do you boys think you’re doing?”
Abby got up and ran to the stage.
“One hundred and four!” Mr. Biddle counted. “One hundred and five! One hundred and six!”
Doc watched from the sidewalk in front of the telegraph office. Things could hardly be going any better.
Mr. Biddle’s beard had come loose again, and it was bouncing up and down and hitting him in the nose. “Come on, guys!” he shouted, “Do ’em with me!”
A few people tried doing jumping jacks, but they were packed too tightly, and their flying arms banged together. So they stopped.
Someone in the crowd yelled out: “The leaders of many Southern states have vowed to leave the Union if you won. What do you say to them?”
Mr. Biddle stopped.
“The whole country could start breaking apart before you even get to Washington,” another person shouted. “What will you do about that?”
“Um, I, well …” Mr. Biddle said. “Did you know I was born in a log cabin? Dirt floor and everything.”
The crowd was getting impatient.
“We know about the log cabin!”
“We want to know what you’ll do as president!”
“Can you save the Union?”
“Who here knows how to do squat thrusts?” Mr. Biddle asked. “Such a great full-body workout. Watch and learn!”
In the school gym, the movie screen above the stage began to lower.
Abby was sitting at the computer. The website with the Lincoln history show was still open.
But no one noticed her or the screen. They were all staring at the woman who had interrupted the wrestling match.
“Time to come home, Mr. Lincoln,” Mary said. “Can you stand?”
“I think so,” he said.
He groaned as he pushed himself up.
“Now, Mr. Lincoln, while you’ve been busy with this nonsense, you might be interested to know that the people have just elected you president of the United States.”
“That’s not my concern,” Lincoln said. “I have a new career now.”
“He’s pretty good,” Gigantic Phil said, jumping down from the ropes.
“Pleased to meet you,” Mary said. She shook Phil’s hand, then turned to her husband. “Are you ready to go?”
“Sorry, no,” Abe said. “My mind’s made up.”
Abby hit Play on the history show. She turned the volume all the way up.