The Boy Who Could Fly Without a Motor

by Taylor, Theodore

• ISBN13: 9780152165291
• ISBN10: 0152165290
• Format: Hardcover
• Copyright: 2002-05-01
• Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

Summary

Jon Jeffers is the loneliest nine-year-old on earth. It's 1935, and he's stuck on a tiny rocky island off the coast of San Francisco with his mother and his lighthouse-keeper father. Jon longs for something more. If only he had a way to escape this forsaken pile of rocks, he could have some real adventures.Then one morning the irritable ghost of an ancient magician appears on the beach and offers--amazingly--to teach Jon to fly. Jon agrees, and at first flying seems to be the answer to his wildest dreams. But then he flies into some serious trouble. . . .From the acclaimed author of The Cay, here is a sweet, funny, and outrageous tale of a boy who gets his dearest wish--and then wishes he hadn't.

Author Biography

THEODORE TAYLOR is the author of many award-winning and widely praised middle grade and teen novels, including The Bomb, The Weirdo, the modern classic The Cay, and its prequel-sequel, Timothy of the Cay. He lives in Laguna Beach, California.

Excerpts

ONE A MERE FIFTY-TWO POUNDS, FOUR-FEET-two-inches tall, brown eyed and brown haired, nine-year-old Jonathan Jeffers thought he was the loneliest boy on Earth.He lived with his father, James, and his mother, Mabel, in a red-painted cottage on Clementine Rock, near Three Fathom Shoal and Persiphone Reef, next to an old white-painted brick lighthouse, nineteen miles off the coast of California.He had a big brown-and-black dog named Smacks, a dog of many breeds. They were constant companions, as Jon desperately needed a friend. Smacks served him as best he could just by being there.All night and on foggy days, the strong beam of the lighthouse went around and around, warning ships to stay away from the rock, the shoal, and the reef. The light was powered by a big generator, and Jon's father, a boatswain mate first class in the United States Coast Guard-or bosun-was the keeper. On a clear night, the light could be seen from passing ships twenty-two miles away.When the heavy, cold mists rolled in toward San Francisco, which was to the north of Clementine, the hoarse foghorn also bellowed. Hour after hour. Sometimes day after day. AHHHHHH-RURH-RRRR-AAAA- AAAATS.It sounded like "Ah, rats" to Jon, who had a strong oval face and an imagination as broad as the sweep of the light.He hated the fog and the "Ah, rats" horn. And he didn't exactly like the seals that barked most of the day on the outlying rocks, either.On the nights when the eaves were dripping and the horn was blowing, Jon sometimes thought of the famous Ghosts of Clementine. The rock was named after the sailing ship that had crashed into it in 1850. The ship had been bound for San Francisco, carrying Chinese workers from Canton to build railroads.All of the 129 men had died, and their ghosts were still around the rock, or so Jon had been told by an older girl, Eunice Jones, the daughter in the Coast Guard family the Jeffers had replaced. Eunice was thirteen, tall for her age, and skinny as spaghetti. She knew the rock's history. She'd said that when the gray fog blanket was thick, the ghosts rose out of the sea and climbed up the steep sides of Clementine, which was shaped like a long high box with coarse grass on top. The sodden ghosts moaned in sorrow as they climbed. Jon had had some horrendous dreams as the result of Eunice's stories and that deep-throated foghorn.Eunice had said she'd met some of the "living-dead" ghosts herself and that Jon would likely meet a few as well. They were spooky but pitiful and harmless, and they lived under the rock, she'd said. Jon had thought Eunice was a little spooky herself. She had long fingers and lisped.There also were ghosts of shipwrecked sailors out at Three Fathom Shoal and Persiphone Reef, Eunice had told him. The rusted prow of a steel ship still rode the reef, sticking up like an open shark's jaw, water washing over it. Altogether more than three hundred people had died on the rock, the shoal, and the reef before the govern

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Excerpted from The Boy Who Could Fly Without a Motor by Theodore Taylor
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