Record Breaker

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It's 1963, and Jack's family is still reeling from the SIDS death of his baby sister. Adrift in his own life, Jack is convinced that setting a world record will bring his father back to his senses and his mother back to life. But world events, including President Kennedy's assassination, threaten to overshadow any record Jack tries to beat, from sausage eating to face slapping. Nothing works, and Jack is about to give up when a new friend suggests a different approach that involves listening to, not breaking, records.

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Publié par
Date de parution 01 mars 2013
Nombre de visites sur la page 1
EAN13 9781554699612
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0070 €. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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RECORD BREAKER
Robin Stevenson
Text copyright © 2013 Robin Stevenson
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Stevenson, Robin, 1968-
Record breaker [electronic resource] / Robin Stevenson.
Electronic Monograph Issued also in print format. ISBN 9781554699605(pdf) -- ISBN 9781554699612 (epub)
I. Title.
PS8637.T487R42 2013 jC813'.6 C2012-907284-2
First published in the United States, 2013
Library of Congress Control Number:2012952479
Summary:In 1963, cataclysmic world events threaten to overwhelm Jack as his family tries to deal with the death of his baby sister.
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Cover design by Teresa Bubela
Cover photography by Getty Images
In Canada: Orca Book Publishers PO Box 5626, Station B Victoria, BC Canada V8R 6S4
In the United States: Orca Book Publishers PO Box 468 Custer, WA USA 98240-0468 www.orcabook.com
16 15 14 13 • 4 3 2 1
To Sarah Harvey—fabulous editor, generous mentor an d great friend.
One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen
Eighteen Nineteen Twenty
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Contents
One
The world record for rocking in a rocking chair is ninety-three hours and eight minutes, set six years ago, in 1957, by Mrs. Ralph Weir, of Truro, Nova Scotia. More t han three days of nonstop rocking! Of course, Mrs. Weir never had to deal with my father. “What are you doing in my chair?” Dad was standing across the living room with his hat still in his hand. “I’ve been on my feet all da y. Move it.” “I can’t,” I told him. “I’ve been rocking since I g ot home from school. Almost three hours.” You wouldn’t think rocking in a rocking cha ir would be physically demanding, but my legs were getting tired already. My calf mus cles were starting to burn. Still, I figured I had to be able to rock longer than Mrs. W eir. She was in her fifties, after all. Old enough to be a grandmother. My father gave an exaggerated groan as he hung his hat on the coat rack inside the door. “Don’t tell me this is another record attempt.” Why else would anyone rock for three hours? I wondered. I didn’t say it out loud though, because Dad gets hopping mad if he thinks I ’m being cheeky, and I couldn’t afford to annoy him. I needed his chair for at leas t another ninety hours. “I really think I can do this one,” I said instead. “I can break the record.” He took off his coat and set his briefcase down. “H ow’s your mother?” he asked, lowering his voice. “Really good,” I said. “She was up when I got home from school. And she’s making dinner! Sausages.” I could hear them sizzling in th e pan. “Thought I smelled something good.” Dad’s face rela xed into a smile. “You should be helping her, Jack.” “I offered.” I rocked more vigorously. “She said I could do this.” He took a couple of steps toward the kitchen; then he stopped and glanced back at me. “You do realize that you’re not eating dinner i n that chair?” “Dad! I can’t stop now. If I stop now, the last three hours was a waste of time.” “As opposed to what?” “Huh?” I didn’t know what he meant. Dad frowned. “Pardon. Nothuh.” “Sorry. Pardon.” “You can rock some more after dinner, if you must. Now come on. Get out of that chair and help your mother get dinner on the table. ” He headed into the kitchen, calling my mother’s name. “Marion? Marion?” I kept rocking. “Marion? You know what your son’s doing now?” Mom’s voice was soft, and I had to slow my rocking and strain to hear what she was saying. “It’s harmless enough. How much trouble can he get into in a rocking chair?” There was a long silence, and I knew what Dad was t hinking about. A few weeks earlier I had tried to eat twenty-four raw eggs in less than two minutes and eleven seconds but threw up after the first seven. Eggs, n ot minutes. Right on Allan’s shoes. Of course, Allan had to go and tell his mom, who to ld his dad, who told my dad. “Your sister,” Dad muttered. “Sending him that book .” Mom’s sister is my aunt Jane. She sent me theBook of Records Guinness my for eleventh birthday, which was a year and a half ago. All that time, and I still haven’t broken any records. Mom actually laughed. It wasn’t much of a laugh, ju st ahmphwith a hint of a chuckle