Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - BOOCarz

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“Just to make sure I understand,” I said. “If today is September third, 1940, then tomorrow is … also September third?” “Well, for a few of the loop’s twenty-four hours it’s September second, but, yes, it’s the third.” “So tomorrow never comes.” “In a manner of speaking.” Outside, a distant clap of what sounded like thunder echoed, and the darkening window rattled in its frame. Miss Peregrine looked up and again drew out her watch. “I’m afraid that’s all the time I have at the moment. I do hope you’ll stay for supper.” I said that I would; that my father might be wondering where I was hardly crossed my mind. I squeezed out from behind the desk and began following her to the door, but then another question
occurred to me, one that had been nagging at me for a long time. “Was my grandfather really running from the Nazis when he came here?” “He was,” she said. “A number of children came to us during those awful years leading up to the war. There was so much upheaval.” She looked pained, as if the memory was still fresh. “I found Abraham at a camp for displaced persons on the mainland. He was a poor, tortured boy, but so strong. I knew at once that he belonged with us.” I felt relieved; at least that part of his life was as I had understood it to be. There was one more thing I wanted to ask, though, and I didn’t quite know how to put it. “Was he—my grandfather—was he like …” “Like us?” I nodded. She smiled strangely. “He was like you, Jacob.” And she turned and hobbled toward the stairs. * * * Miss Peregrine insisted that I wash off the bog mud before sitting down to dinner, and asked Emma to run me a bath. I think she hoped that by talking to me a little, Emma would start to feel better. But she wouldn’t even look at me. I watched as she ran cold water into the tub and then warmed it with her bare hands, swirling them around until steam rose. “That is awesome,” I said. But she left without saying a word in response. Once I’d turned the water thoroughly brown, I toweled off and found a change of clothes hanging from the back of the door—baggy tweed pants, a button-up shirt, and a pair of suspenders that were far too short but that I couldn’t figure out how to adjust. I
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Copyright © 2011 by Ransom Riggs A
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Cover Title Page Copyright Epigraph
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father would infect me with some in
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suit of clothes with no person in t
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I stared at the last photo as Grand
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fight, but instead he just said,
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I spent the last afternoon of Befor
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* * * Wading through the diapers, S
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When I asked my dad why Grandpa was
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e encouraging but that nearly snapp
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to me. “Right at the flamingo org
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subdivision, Century Woods. Accordi
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danger or blood, but I couldn’t f
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and I couldn’t speak to tell him,
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elieved him, and neither had anyone
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Even my best and only friend Ricky
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eaction. “I don’t see anything
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cross-examining my subconscious, lo
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that week. I woke up screaming and
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just for me to find. Inside were th
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delusions that would take years of
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out, pouring herself some chardonna
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like showing off to accept such a l
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I got up to leave, afraid I might s
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As promised, the writer had enclose
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* * * As you can imagine, convincin
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on a big adventure!” I found her
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Fog closed around us like a blindfo
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oofs, lined a small grid of muddy g
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was unlikely to be a four-star mint
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“Right here,” he said, tapping
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I’d seen this look on his face be
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fake gold chains. He couldn’t hav
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plow through a field of marshy gras
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come. My grandfather had described
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kitchen was a science experiment go
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“So how was the house?” “Tras
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“It was a lot more than just one
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how much you worshipped him.” He
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thought of him that way. He’s our
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come back tomorrow, however—”
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ut one of them unplugged. Living on
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I felt numb, disconnected. It was t
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Knox.” “I wonder if it doesn’
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I thought maybe I’d heard him wro
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upon its malevolent shape—the way
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peering at me through cracks and kn
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I grabbed it by the sides and pulle
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sweat in the process. I finally mad
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ut organs. Brains. Hearts. Lungs. E
Page 120: was certainly a boulder made from p
Page 126 and 127: that my fear was irrational—it wa
Page 128 and 129: The girl’s expression soured. I w
Page 130 and 131: een lost to the ages. Here lies bog
Page 132 and 133: I unfolded myself from the cramped
Page 134 and 135: home as soon as possible. If he hes
Page 136 and 137: the hell was going on without a roo
Page 138 and 139: what?” “About the house—about
Page 140 and 141: on my arm and her knife at my side.
Page 142 and 143: and gross that I finally had to sit
Page 144 and 145: titled “Cairnholm under Siege.”
Page 146 and 147: sneaking around the back, any hope
Page 148: horse, flicked its reins, and we lu
Page 151 and 152: I was led down a flagstone path and
Page 153 and 154: silently. “There are far easier w
Page 155 and 156: Emma guided me onto the rug and cle
Page 157 and 158: ehind him. “I would ask you to si
Page 159 and 160: and held it up, moving her lips as
Page 161 and 162: I began to understand why Emma had
Page 163 and 164: not kill them outright.” “That
Page 165: and said, “This is Miss Finch and
Page 169: unstable.” She bent over the albu
Page 173 and 174: “Never mind what Abe’s doing,
Page 176 and 177: Claire turned forward and crossed h
Page 178 and 179: “We have to get out of here,” I
Page 180 and 181: It began to drizzle, as if all that
Page 182 and 183: the rest. It was close, and getting
Page 184 and 185: upturned palm, flicked her wrist, a
Page 186 and 187: Kev was manning the bar again and r
Page 188 and 189: It was Dr. Golan. I wanted to say t
Page 191 and 192: Morning brought rain and wind and f
Page 193 and 194: “What’s it about?” She pinche
Page 195 and 196: ehind the curtain. “She may not b
Page 197 and 198: didn’t attend. Bronwyn yawned and
Page 200 and 201: There were a few more acts after Fi
Page 202 and 203: overboard: top hat, cane, monocle
Page 204 and 205: thing: nobody recognized me. Walkin
Page 206 and 207: answer them frankly. What was my wo
Page 208 and 209: “One minute? What can we do in on
Page 210 and 211: called out. “Where you been off t
Page 212 and 213: “Five sheep. How much blood do yo
Page 214: of it. Worm and Dylan talked tough,
Page 217 and 218: “That’s good,” she replied, a
Page 219: topic behind us as quickly as possi
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stayed too long, I’d never want t
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The clay soldier I’d returned beg
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was a lie, of course. I had thought
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Then something terrible occurred to
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“Tell me what happened to Victor!
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It was like waving red underwear at
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more letters. I wondered how much l
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grandfather had trampled her poor,
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century, and by the time I reached
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I shielded my face with the menu an
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“I am, too,” I said, patting he
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“Are you on a sandbar or somethin
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saw was the great bold stripe of th
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He could see the monsters. The mome
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anyway.” Hugh seemed taken aback
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Bronwyn trooped out, nodding solemn
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“He used to say he’d gone to wa
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I was moved by this new idea of my
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“No—abducted. Just as Miss Wren
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climbing roses, a kerosene lantern
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are empty. In a cruel twist of iron
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“Who took it?” “The wight him
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traveling back and forth, I need yo
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your distance, okay?” He looked a
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of the normal growing-up things peo
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looked up and noticed her, at which
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When someone goes missing in a town
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“Or if he was out by the cliffs,
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climbed down a drainpipe to the gro
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meal.” A collective groan arose,
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“You’ll turn into a wrinkled ol
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“And how’s that?” said Millar
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* * * When we stopped at the bog’
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“Which one’s he in?” Enoch as
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to shake and tremble like an overcr
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“Send me back,” he pleaded. “
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I’m just a poor old bus driver, g
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they can fabricate these days. And
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knives that the flesh of its mouth
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wood puffing out and blowing down t
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“If it catches us, it’ll kill u
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the floor as quietly as I could. Em
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Twice the hollow was close enough f
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could kill them. I tested out the w
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went. Said if we tried to come afte
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“Fine,” I said, “so let’s t
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for someone to pick him up, or for
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ealize what it was—it didn’t so
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the single breath it allowed me eve
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“Winston Churchhill,” he said.
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ack.” I turned to Emma. “You up
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landing above our heads, through wh
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“Just put it down and come with u
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common genetic trash of the human r
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scrambling to the hatch and sprinti
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sea. I squinted through the salt sp
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they understood what they needed to
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We marched up the steep trail and a
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died, he told us why they’ve been
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said Hugh. “What if all the ymbry
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out where it is, but when, too?”
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him a letter. I tried to explain ev
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said vaguely. “I’m so tired …
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“Ready to go?” I said. My frien
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the bottom were some strange markin
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we’d finished, Emma suggested tha
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Miss Nightjar Takes All the Hard Ca
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Table of Contents Cover Title Page
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Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - BOOCarz

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