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    Madame Cadillac's Ghost: A Great Lakes Adventure in History & Mystery
    Madame Cadillac's Ghost: A Great Lakes Adventure in History & Mystery
    Madame Cadillac's Ghost: A Great Lakes Adventure in History & Mystery
    Ebook94 pages1 hour

    Madame Cadillac's Ghost: A Great Lakes Adventure in History & Mystery

    By Janie Lynn Panagopoulos

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    About this ebook

    Allie and Shoo Spywell is just regular kids-well, sort of. It's just that their dad is an archaeologist, and their mother is a mystery writer. The Spywell kids always seem to get a few more history lessons than they would like. While left on their own to explore the Detroit Historical Museum, Allie and Shoo soon meet strange characters. Shoo meets a boy in red tennis shoes who becomes even more mysterious and stranger as the afternoon wears on. Allie, meanwhile, is taken by the woeful stories of a weeping woman who is dressed in an ancient French gown and claims to be the wife of Antoine de la Mothe Cadillac, Detroit's founder. Allie learns the true accounts and mysterious happenings of old Detroit as she tries to warn Shoo that his new friend is not a friend at all, but holds the secrets of Madame Cadillac and her husband. Shoo is the only one to save them but will he be able to rescue them before they are permanently trapped in Detroit's past?

    The boy in the red shoes is actually based on the "Red Devil" that is found throughout the writings of Cadillac, and not an imaginary character created by Panagopoulos.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookBaby
    Release dateJan 1, 2002
    ISBN9780983951568
    Madame Cadillac's Ghost: A Great Lakes Adventure in History & Mystery

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      Book preview

      Madame Cadillac's Ghost - Janie Lynn Panagopoulos

      Belle Isle

      How much longer do we have to be in this little car? whined Allie as her father sped along the roadway of Belle Isle.

      Allie, can’t you just enjoy the ride? he asked. "Look out the window at the Detroit River. This is the doorway to the Great Lakes. Just imagine, it was once an Iroquois warpath. The Iroquois came right through here when they invaded out of New York. The Iroquois called this area Tjeughsahrondie, but don’t ask me what it means." He laughed and gazed back at his daughter in the rear view mirror.

      "Detroit is incredible; it has a wonderful history. Just use your imagination. It’s all still out there.

      In the early 1700s, he continued, "over 6,000 Native Americans lived in this area when the French commandant Cadillac was here. He built the first permanent French outpost, Fort Pontchartrain, to protect the fur trade. The strait—le Détroit—linked Swege, or what we call today Lake Erie, to the Great Fish Lake, or Lake Huron. This strait was the key to the upper-country trade for those that lived north and south of this point. It was the most important gateway of the time. Le Détroit, or Detroit as we call it now, means ‘the straits.’ That’s how this place got its name."

      Allie shook her head and looked out the window, wishing her father could talk without sounding like a history book. She watched as the river and trees quickly blurred by.

      Allie, don’t be such a jerk. This is cool, Shoo blurted out in defense of his father. Is this really a race track, Dad? Do you think our van could go this fast on these curves?

      You are not supposed to be driving so fast, said Mrs. Spywell sharply. You’re supposed to follow the speed limit, and no, Shoo, today this isn’t a racetrack, it’s a roadway.

      "I’m driving the speed limit, dear, don’t worry. But this is fun, driving where the Detroit Grand Prix is held." Allies father sped around another curve that circled the tiny island in the straits of Detroit.

      Allies stomach began to churn and feel queasy as their car darted from lane to lane. Shoo, trying to bug his sister, swayed back and forth with each curve, and leaned hard against Allie’s shoulder.

      Get over on your own side! she snapped.

      Hey, I can’t help it. Dad’s car is small! said Shoo wi th a mean grin directed at his sister.

      Mom? When will the van be out of the shop? Dad’s car is too small for the four of us, especially with Shoo.

      Enough! demanded their mother. Shoo, stay on your own side of the car and leave Allie alone. Do you understand?

      Shoo nodded his head as his mother peered at him over the car seat. When Mrs. Spywell turned around to face forward, Allie smiled at her brother and scrunched up her face. Shoo stuck out his tongue and put his fingers in his ears wiggling them at her, just as he caught a glimpse of his father watching him in the rearview mirror. Mr. Spywell cleared his throat and softly shook his head to Shoo, so as not to attract the attention of his wife.

      Watching out the backseat windows, Allie and Shoo tried to focus on the rows of trees that lined the roadway and waterway. The skyline of Detroit looked like a gray-blue blob hovering over the river’s edge. It sure is a big city, Allie thought.

      As Allie tried to see out Shoo’s window she noticed he was now holding tightly onto his seat belt shoulder strap, trying not to sway in her direction. The more Allie watched out the windows, the more her stomach rumbled.

      Oh, Dad, can we stop? I feel carsick, complained Allie.

      When we get around near Scott’s fountain, why don’t we pull over? suggested her mother. Allie can get some air and I want them to see the fountain, anyway. It’s just about the only thing, except for the big trees, that I remember on the island from when I was a child. Besides, I would like to see something besides a blur while we’re here, she commented to her husband with a grin.

      All right, all right, you win, said Mr. Spywell as he slowed the car down. You know, if I hadn’t became an archaeologist, I might have been a good race car driver. I always thought it would have been neat racing fast cars around and around a track. Just the smell of gasoline and rubber tires burning and the noise. Wouldn’t that be great?

      No thank you! exclaimed Mrs. Spy-well.

      I think being a race car driver wo uld be real cool, Dad, interrupted Shoo. "If I don’t become a cryptozoologist and discover the first Bigfoot in America, maybe I’ll become a race car driver."

      A cryptozoologist? Allie blurted out. You will be lucky if you make it to middle school.

      Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? I get good grades. Shoo reached over and nudged his sister on the arm. I’ve been Student of the Month lots of times.

      What that means is you better leave me alone, snapped Allie. Because I feel sick, and this car is really small. She glared at her brother who noticed she did look slightly green.

      All right, you two. The fountain is coming up. I’m stopping. I’m stopping! said their father, interrupting their fight.

      Look to your right, Allie, there’s Canada, said Mrs. Spywell trying to get Allie’s mind off her stomach and to stop the argument with Shoo. As the car made the curve around the southern tip of Belle Isle, the Windsor, Ontario, skyline appeared to their right. In a flash, a large red car pulled up close beside them in the outside lane and rode there, blocking their view.

      Hey, get out of the way! I want to see Canada, growled Allie.

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