Edison's Gold by Geoff Watson Page B

slender, elderly woman in a long satin ball gown and a gentleman with slicked silvery-toned hair performing a simple but graceful three-step took hold through the scratchy film.
    â€œWho are those people?” Colby squinted. “They look like grandparents on good diets.”
    â€œImpeccable olden-days rhythm, too. I’m feelin’ their groove.” Noodle bopped his head in time with the silent music.
    The man on the screen gave his delicate partner a final twirl, then stepped squarely in front of the camera and started to blink his eyes. As the man’s face filled the screen, Tom realized he’d seen those eyes before in a photograph. They belonged to Thomas Edison’s other best friend, Henry Ford.
    Blink-blinkity blink. Blink. Blink blink.
    Ten seconds of this, and the film cut to black. Tom stared mutely at the wall, then glanced over at Noodle, who mouthed the word
Ford
back to him excitedly.
    â€œThat’s it?” Snert bounced in frustration. “Where’d you say you found this flick again?”
    â€œThe library,” answered Tom at the same time that Noodle said, “Tom’s attic.”
    â€œIt’s actually an old film from Tom’s grandparents’ library,” said Noodle. “Or so we think.”
    Snert squinted, obviously not recognizing the old automobile tycoon’s face. “So maybe that old dude’s Thomas E the Second, huh? I guess that’s cool. But when you get down to it, it’s still just a boring old home movie.” Snert sighed. “You shoulda told me earlier. What a gyp.”
    â€œSorry, no Draculas for you, Snertsy.” Colby offered him the rest of the popcorn as a consolation prize.
    â€œWell, I should be getting back,” he said, grabbing a handful and stuffing it into his mouth. “Aragorn and Gandalf await my hasty return!”
    â€œSnert, as weird as you are, it was still really cool of you to help us make the projector and phonograph,” said Tom. “Thanks.”
    â€œAnytime.” Snert puffed up a little bit as he headed toward the stairs. He then let out a deep exhale, like he was preparing for a big race, and abruptly spun around to face the others. “Maybe I can sit with you guys at lunch one of these days.”
    â€œYou got it, Snert!” Tom called back. “See ya at school.”
    â€œHe’s a cutie,” said Colby once he was gone. “I just added him to my Top Five Sixth Graders.”
    â€œPlay the movie again,” said Tom, standing to face the screen.
    Noodle raised his eyebrows. “Arright. But we already know the big twist at the end.”
    The threesome watched with razor focus as the dancers once again appeared on the bedsheet. Tom stepped closer to it and reached out to touch Ford’s blinking face, casting a distorted shadow over the entire scene. Even though it was not Thomas Edison staring back at him, Tom still had never felt so close to his famous double-great-grandfather, so included in his private world. It was as if, for a moment, he had crossed space and time.
    â€œIt’s deliberate, don’t you think?” he turned to ask the other two.
    â€œDuh,” said Noodle. “Why would they go through so much trouble just to hide some movie of two people dancing?”
    â€œPlay it one more time,” said Tom. “There’s a secret here. Has to be.”
    He stared as if hypnotized by Ford’s blinking eyes. The film reached its conclusion, then cut to black.
    â€œAgain,” Tom repeated.
    â€œLet me save you the suspense,” Noodle quipped. “Dance dance dance. Blink blink blink. It’s not gonna be any different.” But he reset the film anyway and started it one more time.
    Tom was at a loss as he studied every inch of the dancers, as well as the wooden wall behind them, the crystal chandelier hanging above their heads. No detail was too insignificant.
    Three more viewings, and he was no