I looked around the room and spotted a giant, black plastic cover in the shape of a square with four wooden legs sticking out the bottom of it. A TV from the ’70s, and Yogi watched it out here in his living room without a roof. Unbelievable. 

I didn’t want to worry Bones any more than I already had, so I plastered a smile on my face and said, “Let’s go, Bones! It can’t hurt to see what Doc Lopez has to say. I mean, if you think about it, we’ve got all the time in the world.” 

Bones laughed and the worry lines on his forehead vanished. Before I could even blink, he had already pushed through the door and hopped into the truck. 

I ran to catch up and squeezed in beside Bones, whose monkey-like limbs were hilariously scrunched up in the middle of the bench seat between me and Yogi. 

“I guess you’re right, Lump,” Bones said. “It’s 1978. Time is on our side.” 

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