The Young City: The Unwritten Books
By James Bow
4.5/5
()
About this ebook
Rosemary Watson and Peter McAllister think their future is clear: they’re finally heading off for university. They’re thinking about finding apartments, picking courses, living like adults.
But what happens when the future becomes the past? While helping Rosemary’s brother move into an apartment in Toronto, Peter and Rosemary fall into an underground river and are swept back in time, to Toronto in 1884. It’s a struggle to survive and adapt to the alien culture of the late nineteenth century. Peter and Rosemary are forced to work together, to live together, and to become the adults they’ve only been pretending to be.
As the days stranded turn to weeks, then months, Rosemary and Peter begin to wonder if they’re really ready for a future together - and what they will do if they can’t get back.
Then someone brings them a watch, powered by a battery, made in Taiwan.
James Bow
James Bow is the author of more than 75 educational books for kids. He lives with his wife, two kids, two cats, and dog in Kitchener, Ontario, Canada. He receives training on the safe use of chemicals where he works.
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Reviews for The Young City
2 ratings2 reviews
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I don’t know about most people, but I for one find reading a series out of order to be completely frustrating and I usually can’t do it. But this time, I could and I am really glad I did. The Young City is one of those stories that once you start, it’s hard to stop. It’s the third book in a series, The Unwritten Books, but it completely holds its own as a standalone novel.Rosemary Watson and Peter McAllister are eighteen, in love, and finally beginning their lives outside of their parents and are starting college, but something else has a different plan for them. While helping Rosemary’s brother, Theo, move into an apartment, the floor falls in and the couple is swept away into the storm sewer of underground Toronto. When they finally get out of the water and get out of the river, they find that they aren’t in 2008 Toronto anymore; they seem to have gone back in time 124 years, and are now in 1884 Toronto. WOW! Twilight Zone, here I come!But this isn’t quite like that at all; this is a much simpler, much harder way to live. Could you imagine going from cell phones, computers, and television to a time where there is no hot running water, no such thing as a battery, and women are just being allowed to become doctors? I sure couldn’t, but that’s what Peter and Rosemary fall into. It’s hard for them to even survive in such a different time, even from the first minute, but they soon meet Faith and Edmund, a brother and sister who have a pawn shop and who eagerly take the couple in, and help them adjust, no matter how odd they appear to be. Working together, Peter and Rosemary have to come to terms with where they are and how it seems they can never get back to their tie, their home. Days become weeks, and weeks become months, and the couple begins to doubt whether they are ready for a life together, especially if that life is being stuck in 1884. Faith and Edmund help, but it’s still not enough for the young couple; that is until there is not only something fishy going on with Edmund, but also something going on at the construction site Peter is working on, and then someone brings a watch into the pawn shop, a watch with a battery, which isn’t even possible yet, and a stamp that reads “Made in Taiwan!”Rosemary and Peter work even harder to not only find out what could possibly be going on, but also where the watch came from, and who else knows about the portals and their home. All they do know is, someone else knows, and that someone is taking advantage of these portals and not using them for good things; someone is smuggling trinkets between 1884 and 2008. It’s the who, why, and how that are still the problem; but it’s a problem Rosemary and Peter have to solve themselves. If I could describe this book in three words, it would be: Captivating, adventurous, and must-readable! I found it so easy to get attached to these characters and their story that I was really sad to see it end. I want so badly to go back and read the first two books in this series, and I will. There’s tons of action, and twists and turns that I really never saw coming, and I was blown away.The writing is exciting, and beautiful, and imaginative and I can’t believe I had never heard of these books before now! If you haven’t read this book, I highly recommend you do so, it’s definitely a story that is worth the time and is worth hunting down (it’s from Canada).
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5In the third and final volume of THE UNWRITTEN BOOKS, Peter and Rosemary fall through a hole in time and find themselves trapped in 1884.I've always been big on time travel novels. They're both historical and contemporary; they allow the reader to examine certain ideas about her own time while learning about how folks lived in the past. This is particularly true of children's and YA lit, which so often seeks to teach the reader a little something even as it delivers a good story, and I think Bow has dealt with it very nicely. We learn an awful lot about life in late nineteenth century Toronto, but it never feels forced or preachy. Rosemary and Peter are fish out of water here, so we learn alongside them as they deal with a whole host of problems related to their new home, including a very different social morality. Rosemary's experience, in particular, is handled very well. Her struggles as a woman in the nineteenth century stand in stark contrast to Peter's relative freedom. The clothes alone present a huge problem for her, but Bow also gives us lots of little scenes that emphasize the inequalities she faces every day. For example, she's expected to serve their landlord at dinner, and Peter can't help her with the washing up because it's "woman's work." Her friendship with an aspiring female doctor also adds a nice dimension to the story and helps emphasize some of the differences between then and now.Rosemary and Peter's relationship also comes in for a lot more scrutiny. While I found the first two books more middle grade in feel, I'd say THE YOUNG CITY is definitely a YA novel. It deals with a few more mature themes, including whether or not the main characters are ready for sex, and some parents may find it inappropriate for the under twelve crowd. That's not to say that it's a shocking, graphic book; the sexual elements are handled very well, with suggestion rather that description. There's tension between the two of them, but there's also frank discussion and evaluation. And it's far from the only thing going on here. Their emotional relationship continues to develop in response to their new situation. There are some very nice scenes here.And the ending? This's a good ending, people. It's both tantalizing and conclusive. I loved it.All in all, this was my favourite of THE UNWRITTEN BOOKS. I enjoyed it quite a bit, and wanted to share it with someone the moment I'd finished it.(Review copy provided by the author. A slightly different version of this review originally appeared on my blog, Stella Matutina).
Book preview
The Young City - James Bow
THE YOUNG CITY
THE YOUNG CITY
THE UNWRITTEN BOOKS
James Bow
Copyright: James Bow, 2008
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise (except for brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior permission of Dundurn Press. Permission to photocopy should be requested from Access Copyright.
Editor: Barry Jowett
Design: Jennifer Scott
Printer: Webcom
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Bow, James, 1972-
The young city: the unwritten books / by James Bow.
ISBN 978-1-55002-846-1
I. Title.
PS8603.O973Y69 2008 jC813’.6 C2008-906212-4
1 2 3 4 5 12 11 10 09 08
We acknowledge the support of The Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for our publishing program. We also acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and The Association for the Export of Canadian Books, and the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Book Publishers Tax Credit program, and the Ontario Media Development Corporation.
Care has been taken to trace the ownership of copyright material used in this book. The author and the publisher welcome any information enabling them to rectify any references or credits in subsequent editions.
J. Kirk Howard, President
Printed and bound in Canada.
Printed on recycled paper.
www.dundurn.com
Dundurn Press
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For Nora
CHAPTER ONE
UNDERCURRENTS
Peter McAllister kicked open the door and tottered down the basement steps, looking like a box with legs. Box of books,
he puffed. Again. Where do these go?
Rosemary Watson dropped the roll of carpet and rubbed her hands against her jeans. Her halter top was smudged with dirt. She peered around at the whitewashed brick and the concrete floor and pushed her glasses further up on her nose. "Theo, you’re paying how much to rent this place?"
Her brother, Theo, smiled ruefully. Seven hundred dollars a month. Plus utilities.
For this dungeon?
Peter swayed. Box. Books. Where do they go?
Location, location, location,
said Theo. For seven hundred dollars I could get a wonderful place ... an hour away. I don’t need anything fancy. With my doctoral work, I’ll probably just be here to sleep.
Books!
yelled Peter.
Well, the outside is nice,
said Rosemary. Gingerbread, pocket garden, nice old Victorian. I can’t believe we’re in downtown Toronto. But I’m sure the original builders didn’t intend to have you living in the basement.
Right, that’s it!
said Peter. I’m dropping these!
Theo and Rosemary grabbed the box from Peter’s hands. He sagged into a chair, fanning himself with a discarded scrap of cardboard. Why does it always have to be a hot day when people move?
Poor Peter!
Rosemary stepped behind him and wrapped him in a hug. And we’re only just starting out. Then it’s up to Waterloo to move me into my dorm, and then over to London to move you into your apartment.
Don’t remind me,
Peter huffed. He clasped and kissed her hands.
Looking forward to university, you two?
asked Theo.
Yeah!
said Peter. Welcome to adulthood!
Rosemary took a deep breath. Welcome to rent.
Welcome to no curfew,
said Peter.
Grocery bills.
Privacy!
Roommates.
Peter chuckled. Don’t be a killjoy.
She slapped his hair. I am not a killjoy!
A worrywart, then.
He caught her wrist and kissed it.
She giggled. I’m practical!
She bent toward him and they shared a kiss.
Theo rolled his eyes. You two are shameless.
Rosemary pulled away briefly and gave her brother a sly grin. Us? Shameless?
No idea what you’re talking about,
added Peter when he was able.
Theo sighed. Here!
He thrust one box at Peter and another at Rosemary. Take these into the bedroom and straighten up in there. I’ll make some lemonade.
Peter and Rosemary dutifully carried their boxes into the back room. Other boxes were already stacked up in all corners, and bits of a futon were piled by one wall.
Peter set about rearranging some piles. Then he turned and walked straight into Rosemary, who put her arms around him and gave him a kiss that left him short of breath.
Rosemary,
he whispered. He cleared his throat. We’re in Theo’s apartment.
Yes,
she said, with a wild tinge to her smile. His nice, quiet, private apartment.
He coughed. Yes,
he said. "Theo’s apartment. Which you called a dungeon."
It’s a private dungeon.
Rosemary, he’s in the next room.
We could send Theo out to pick up pizzas or something. Tell him we’ll put together some furniture and, when he’s gone, kiss and ... stuff.
Peter’s eyebrows went up. Won’t Theo be suspicious if nothing gets put together?
We could put his futon together and ... make use of it.
He blanched and swallowed. What’s gotten into you?
She giggled and pressed close. Just teasing Theo....A little,
she whispered. Showing him his little sister isn’t so little anymore.
Peter scowled. "Just teasing?"
Not just, silly!
Peter grinned. Their lips met.
At the door, Theo cleared his throat. He stood, frowning at them, holding a tray with a pitcher of lemonade and three glasses. Peter jumped back so fast Rosemary staggered. She shot Peter a glare, then took the tray and poured out the lemonade. The three of them stood in the middle of Theo’s bedroom, drinking silently.
Finally, Theo set his drink aside. Rosemary, could I ask you something?
Shoot,
she said as Peter took another swig of his lemonade.
Are you and Peter having sex?
asked Theo.
Peter choked on his lemonade.
Theo!
Rosemary stared at her brother in openmouthed shock. How dare you?
"You have your hands on Peter right in front of me, and you ask how dare me?"
Gagging, coughing, Peter barely managed to set his glass down on top of a stack of boxes. He leaned against the wall, clutching his chest.
Rosemary spluttered. It’s none of your business.
Rosemary, you’re my little sister,
said Theo. I need to know you’re being careful.
I don’t need to tell you about my love life,
Rosemary snapped.
"So you have been having sex," said Theo.
I didn’t say that!
shouted Rosemary.
Peter took deep breaths of air. He doubled over and began coughing again.
Look, it’s a simple question,
Theo began.
It’s a huge question!
yelled Rosemary. You’re not my dad.
I’m your brother.
That’s not the same thing!
Look, you’ve been getting pretty serious,
said Theo. "I mean, you two have been serious for years, but there’s serious, and then there’s serious. Where did you two go after the prom?"
Rosemary reddened. Nowhere — I mean, around.
Rosemary ...
Look, Mom and Dad didn’t complain,
said Rosemary. So we were a couple of hours late. No big! I called them and told them, and they said we could stay out a bit later. If they had a problem with what we were doing, they would have told me.
Your parents think the world of you and trust you to make your own decisions,
said Theo. But they’re in their fifties, and I’m twenty-four. I have a better memory of what kids your age get up to.
"So, why were you two hours late coming back after your prom?" asked Rosemary.
None of your business.
Aha!
Aha!
Theo shot back.
Rosemary reddened and clenched her fists.
Wheezing, thumping his chest, Peter got his breath back. Theo,
he gasped. Rosemary and I, we —
Don’t answer him,
snapped Rosemary. It doesn’t matter if we do or not. We’re mature enough to decide —
"You’re not mature, said Theo.
Not really. And I don’t mean that in a bad way, either. You’re both barely out of high school, and yet I hear you two talking about marriage."
Peter goggled. Rosemary blanched. You’ve been eavesdropping?
Look, just don’t rush into things,
said Theo, raising his hands. Take it from somebody who knows. University is not high school, and undergraduate university is not like graduate studies. You think you know where you stand? Well your world is going to change. Be careful.
Rosemary looked at him, hurt. You don’t think we’d be careful?
Theo sighed. Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that ... Just humour your older brother, okay? I don’t want you to have any regrets.
Rosemary rolled her eyes. Okay,
she said at last. I promise. We’ll be careful.
That’s my Sage,
said Theo. He opened his arms.
She made a face at his use of her long-abandoned nickname, but she came forward and hugged him.
And you didn’t answer my question,
said Theo.
And I’m not going to,
said Rosemary, her voice muffled by his chest.
Theo shrugged. All right. Well, how about I go and get us a pizza ...,
he said, flashing them a smile and then adding, ... by calling and having it delivered. The phone’s set up, so I don’t have to leave you two alone for long.
He grinned at their reddened cheeks and left the room.
When Theo was gone, Peter rounded on Rosemary. Why didn’t you just tell him ‘no’? It would have been so much easier.
She glared. It’s not his business.
Peter huffed and turned away. They went back to cleaning up the room in silence. Then, as Peter picked up a tossed-aside throw rug, something caught his attention and he knelt on the bare concrete. When Theo entered the room, Peter asked, Theo, did you know you have a hole in your floor?
Theo and Rosemary turned. The three of them crouched by an opening in the concrete the size of a quarter. Rosemary pulled a penny from her pocket and dropped it in the hole. It vanished without a sound. She tapped the floor. It sounds hollow.
Peter slid back to the wall. Seven hundred dollars a month?
Theo nodded. Plus utilities.
Rosemary peered into the hole. Where do you think it goes?
Theo stood and tapped the floor one foot from the hole, then three feet, then five. It rang hollow each time. He shrugged. A cavern, maybe?
Rosemary shot up. Cavern?
Sure, there are supposed to be a few in the area. Taddle Creek used to flow through here until the city turned it into a storm sewer. I heard the river ran through caves. Maybe this is one of them.
Rosemary slid away from the hole.
Theo chuckled. Oh, don’t be a baby, Rosie. If it were really so unsafe, could I do this?
He began to jump around the hole in a violent dance.
Rosemary pressed her back to the wall. Theo!
Theo laughed. Sorry, Rosie. Now, if we’re done teasing each other ...
In the kitchen, the phone rang.
Theo turned. That’s probably the pizza place. They said they’d call to confirm the address because I’m a new customer. Wait here, you two.
He left, leaving the two pressed against opposite walls.
Rosemary and Peter watched him go. Then, gingerly, they stepped forward and approached the hole. Peter tapped the concrete again, marvelling at the hollow sound it made.
You ever hear of this Taddle Creek?
asked Rosemary.
Peter shook his head. I only lived in downtown Toronto until I was ten. Wasn’t exactly interested in urban archaeology.
I wonder what’s down there.
Rosemary gave the floor her own experimental tap.
Cracks fissured from the hole and passed beneath their feet.
Peter and Rosemary flashed each other looks of horror.
The floor gave way. They fell into darkness.
Rosemary hit stone — hard. The impact winded her and kept her from catching herself before she rolled over an edge. There was another heart-stopping moment of freefall, and then she hit bottom with a splash.
Submerged, she clawed for the surface, choking on gritty, brackish water. She burst into air alive with the roar of a rushing stream.
Peter!
she screamed. Pete—.
She slipped beneath the surface.
Hands clutched at her and hauled her up.
Rosemary!
Peter shouted in her ear. Are you all right?
Where are we?
She kicked against the current, catching his legs twice.
Water! Stream! Grab something!
I’m trying!
She glubbed water again.
Then her shoulder smacked something sharp. Her hands clawed brick. Soon they were clinging to a wall, heads barely above water, bracing each other against the rushing stream.
What now?
shouted Rosemary.
We’ve got to get out of this water!
It’s too dark!
Feel for a ledge! Anything! I’m slipping!
Rosemary ran her hands over the wall. Above her head, she felt a shelf extending away, deep enough to lie on. She hauled herself up and rolled onto dry soil.
Turning on her stomach, she reached blindly for Peter, slapping him across the face before catching his wrist. He clutched her arm and, after a brief struggle, lay gasping beside her.
Thank you,
he wheezed.
She clasped him close. Where are we?
she shouted in his ear.
He coughed. I don’t know. But this place stinks.
Now that they were out of danger, she could register what her other senses told her. The water drowned out all sound. The air was cool, damp, and foul. Oh God, I hope we didn’t fall into the sewer.
Peter sniffed his sodden sleeve. "No. We smell pretty bad, but not that bad."
Storm sewer, then.
Rosemary let out a hollow laugh. Lucky us.
How do we get out of here?
he gasped.
Theo will help us.
The stream pulled us quite a way,
yelled Peter.
We head back,
said Rosemary. We follow this ledge upstream.
They stood up, clutching each other, expecting to hit their heads on the ceiling. They found they could stand without stooping. There was no wall within arm’s reach.
The storm sewer was a presence of sound and wind on their left. Save for the sandy ground beneath their feet, or the brick lip of the sewer if they ventured too far, they might as well have been wandering in a void. After what seemed like hours, Rosemary brushed stone on her right. No!
she moaned. It’s closing in on us.
Rosemary, wait! I can see you!
She looked toward his voice and realized that she could see him, too. He was a silhouette against shadow. The hole must be nearby! We must be getting light from Theo’s apartment!
Peter shouted to the ceiling. Theo! We’re down here!
Rosemary joined in. Theo! Help! Get us out!
Their words rang back at them, accompanied only by the roar of rushing water.
Theo!
Rosemary screamed.
Maybe he’s gone for help,
said Peter.
Maybe ...
Where else could he be?
he said. If he wasn’t calling the fire department, he’d be sticking his head in the hole and shouting.
You’re right.
She took a deep breath. We should wait. That’s sensible. Let’s sit down.
She slumped onto the sandy ground.
He knelt beside her. You all right? You’re shivering.
So are you!
Not as bad as you. Here, let me hold you.
I’m okay.
But she leaned into his embrace.
They waited, breathing the damp, reeking air. Nobody called. Their clothes started to dry.
Rosemary pulled away from Peter and stood up. She couldn’t pace, so she shifted on her feet, muttering, Where is he? He should be back by now.
She kicked the sand. Theo!
Peter grabbed her. Rosemary, don’t panic.
She slapped his hands away. Don’t you tell me not to panic! We’re stuck here! I hate places like this!
He shook her by the shoulders. Rosemary!
She stared at him, breathing heavily. I’m sorry,
she said at last. I’m feeling a little claustrophobic. We have to get out of here.
And go where?
Upstream. This water has to come from somewhere.
Shouldn’t we just —
"Peter, do you