Chapter Three
He woke the next morning to a rooster crowing. Just like back home at the farm. He had slept through dinner the previous night, so when he woke up, he was famished. From down the hall somewhere, he could smell bacon cooking. It made his stomach growl with anticipation.
On his way to the kitchen, he made a detour to answer nature's call. When he was finished, he studied the reflection in the mirror. Jacob appeared to be twelve or thirteen, the same age as Misty in the picture in his room. His hair was dark like his father's and brother's, and his resemblance to the two was uncanny. He shook his hair out with his fingers and washed his face. The pain from yesterday was already beginning to subside. He shuffled down the hall, following the aroma of eggs and bacon to the kitchen.
"Hey, bud," said Jacob's father, patting Sam on the shoulder. "You feelin' any better? You slept right through supper, but your mom didn't have the heart to wake ya up."
"Yeah, Dad. Thanks. But I'm really hungry now," Sam said as his stomach growled again.
"I bet you are! Momma's whipped up some bacon, eggs, and grits for ya! She and Billy have run to the store, but they'll be back soon. Sit down, eat up! I'm goin' outside to work on that dang car. Come out when you get finished, okay?"
"Yeah, okay, Dad." Sam sat down at the table and started in on the eggs.
Suddenly, (whoosh) – (whoosh) Al appeared, wearing the brightest orange pants Sam had ever seen. He was wearing an almost matching shirt, although it was a bit darker, and had random geometric figures on it. Bright silver shoes completed the look.
"Hey, Sam. Oh, I wish I could have some of that," Al moaned, gesturing to Sam's breakfast. "Mmm, I love a good bowl of grits! Yumola!" He licked his lips appreciatively.
"Al."
"Huh, what?" Al looked from Sam's breakfast to Sam. "Oh, yeah." He pulled Ziggy's handlink from his pocket and punched some buttons on it. The device whirred and lit up in random patterns as it came to life. "It's January 4, 1997, and you've leaped into a twelve year old boy named..."
"Jacob," Sam interjected.
"Yeah, Jacob Hen." Al frowned at the handlink and smacked it with the heel of his hand, causing it to let out a high-pitched cry. "Derson. Oh, Jacob Henderson." He rolled his eyes and continued. "He lives with his mother Phyllis, his father Ben, and his seventeen year old brother William, who everybody calls Billy. You live in rural Shelby County, Alabama, right outside the boundaries of the Cahaba Wildlife Management Area, which just opened in 1996."
"That must be where we were yesterday. We were hunting, and it was heavily wooded."
"Yeah, that's it." The handlink in Al's hand let out a cry. "Uh, oh," said Al.
"What?"
"Well, Ziggy says you're here to save the lives of Billy and Jacob. They both get killed today on a hunting trip in the wildlife area."