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Chapter 21 & 22 - The Child in the Museum
🕑 Added 2024-11-19 15:00:03 +0000 UTC
Chapter 21
That evening, Amelia returned to her normal bedroom. She wished she could have told Claudette that she would actually enjoy trying out the different bedrooms, but if Claudette felt lonely, she didn’t want to push the idea.
She passed by the Queen’s chamber. It was the bedroom she had always most wanted to stay in, with its huge bed, glorious canopy of draped fabric, and many fine pieces of jewelry and furniture on display. There were cameras pointed in all of the directions as well as many alarms that she didn’t want to trigger, so she had never even considered the room to be a possibility. Now that she knew, however, that the cameras wouldn’t pick up her presence, and she couldn’t trigger the alarms even if she wanted to, a whole new world of possibilities had opened up. Just for fun, she put her leg over the velvet rope and climbed into the room. She ran her hand along the drapery of the canopy and then the shiny fabric of the bed covers. In a big bold move, she flopped herself upon the bed and stared up at the ceiling, imagining that this was where she lived, that she was royalty in a very large castle with many servants to tend to her every desire. The room was breathtaking, but it did have less natural light than the one she had stayed in for so long. She supposed though, that now she didn’t have to go through so many motions in the morning to hide her presence, that she didn’t need the light to wake her up every day as early as possible. She considered, however, how much the light tended to uplift her mood, even on the days that she felt the most lonely, and thought once again of the poor lady with the eternal broken heart.
It had seemed from Claudette’s interaction with Sir Philip, and from other things she had said, that she didn’t get out of the French section much, and didn’t meet others who also called the museum their home. Amelia, however, was very excited to meet as many other ghosts as possible and really get to know the social atmosphere of the museum. It was something she had longed to experience for so much time, as she watched the large groups of schoolchildren and the large families on tours of the museum. She made a silent promise that she would bring Claudette with her as much as possible, that she would try to help heal Claudette’s lonely heart, even if it wasn’t with romance.
Amelia took a deep sigh and climbed out of the very large bed, which was much higher up from the floor, even, than the one she was used to. She climbed back over the velvet ropes and headed to the chamber that she shared with Claudette.
In the hallway leading up to the French Room Decor and Furniture section, Amelia was surprised to hear humming and singing. As she rounded the corner and saw the room come into view, to her shock she saw Claudette twirling around in front of the dresser, looking at herself in the mirror, picking up her large dress and making it twirl with her.
“Oh, hi!” Amelia said, announcing her presence, as if she had just happened upon something private.
Claudette whirled around and started giggling uncontrollably, “Oh, Amelia! Hello! You must think I am quite the sight, but I am overjoyed!”
Claudette plopped down in her chair beside the dresser with a huge sigh and a smile so contagious that Amelia couldn’t help but smile as well when approaching her.
“I have a date!” Claudette exclaimed, “With that dreamy knight in shining armor, Sir Philip. It’s like a storybook! But I have so much to do, I must look perfect. I have to do my makeup, I have to do my hair, I have to make sure all of the wrinkles in my dress are smoothed out, but all I want to do is dance!”
“How wonderful!” Amelia laughed, “What are you and Sir Philip going to do?”
“Ah, well he knows the museum so well and has the very best ideas. We are going to spend time on the third floor. First we are going to go to the modern art section. For those of us who lived hundreds of years ago, the art in that section allows for lots of lively discussion and debate. After that, we are going to take an evening stroll through the landscapes. I personally will be so happy to spend some more time staring at the French Impressionists. I have a hope that we will have our first kiss among the large Monets!”
This was a bit more than Amelia cared to know, but she grinned supportively at Claudette nonetheless.
Claudette turned back to the mirror, taking out a large puff and began powdering her face.
“And you, my dear young lady,” Claudette continued, “must be here to make sure that I don’t get home too late, and to hear all about my adventures, just like a real girlfriend! I feel like a teenager once again!”
Amelia decided not to point out that she herself had never been a teenager, but decided not to ruin Claudette’s fun.
“Of course I will stay up for you,” she said sweetly, “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
She watched, fascinated, as Claudette not only powdered her face, but powdered her hair as well.
“May I ask a personal question?” said Amelia.
“Oh my dear! Ask anything you would like, today my heart is on my sleeve, I am an open book!”
“Is that a wig?”
Claudette turned back to her, and they both began to laugh. It started out small and then turned to full bellied laughter. It was one of those laughs where you end up not knowing necessarily what it was that had made you laugh, but rather the act of laughing becomes funny in its own right.
“Stop, stop,” Claudette said, gasping for air, “I can’t do it anymore! My corset is too tight. I will die from lack of air!”
With that statement, they began to laugh again even more, as the unspoken truth was that they were both already dead.
“Yes, yes” as the laughter died down a bit, Claudette began to explain, “It is a wig. And a very expensive one at that! You see, wigs are the best ways to ensure that your hair always looks magnificent. I never quite understood why they went out of style. Also, I do think that my fashion in particular would look quite strange without it, don’t you?”
Amelia tried to imagine Claudette looking more modern. She didn’t even know what her real hair color was, or even what her face would look like without the almost pastel-drawing-look of the makeup, but she couldn’t. She tried to imagine Claudette in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and shoes like so many of the guests wear to the museum, but again couldn’t. She tried not to smirk at the mental image she was attempting to create.
“No, I think the way you dress and have your hair suits you. Just as Sir Philip’s armor suits him.”
“Doesn’t it? Oh, he is dreamy!”
“Oh am I?” Sir Philip had appeared into view, with Amelia gasping, startled.
Claudette’s face turned scarlet. “Oh don’t mind our girl talk! I was just getting ready for our date and seemed to have lost track of time.”
“No need to get ready, my dear!” he said, “You were already the perfect picture of divine beauty when I saw you earlier today. And about my armor — the wonderful thing about being a spirit is that I never tire of the weight of the armor. I can wear it all the time without it wearing me out! In my day, you see, us knights had to be strong in every way, even to simply move and carry ourselves in the heavy layers of metal that we wear. Not to mention the great acts of bravery we had to accomplish on top of that.”
Claudette had stood up, curtsying as a greeting to him, and as she straightened up exclaimed, “Oh do tell me more about the acts of bravery!”
“There will be plenty of time for that on our stroll,” he said, offering his arm.
Sir Philip had such charm and a graceful way of being that put people around him at ease. It clearly made Claudette feel like the most special, beautiful person in the world. Amelia thought about how much she could learn about history, and what a unique place this was, to see different mindsets and cultures from vastly different times actually interact with each other. She wasn’t sure how far off the dates were that Sir Philip and Claudette actually lived from each other, and she made a mental note to look into that.
Claudette had taken Sir Philip’s arm, and standing together, Amelia thought that they looked like such a perfect match that it didn’t matter if they were from different time periods. It was as if these time periods were meant to merge in that very moment.
“You two behave yourselves!” Amelia said in a joking manner.
For a brief moment, she imagined what it would be like with Sir Philip and Claudette as sort of parental figures together for her as she lived in the museum. She pushed away the thought, because it probably wasn’t fair to expect that of them on their first date. She wondered where the thought had come from, and realized that it was probably from comparing Arthur’s life to hers. And it didn’t make sense at all, because they had quite different situations altogether. She didn’t need parents like he had.
Claudette and Sir Philip smiled and waved to her, as they turned and began on their way, happily, toward the stairs that led to the third floor.
Amelia sat with her feelings for a moment. She realized that there was a dark void within her, a sense of loss surrounding the idea of parents. It was something she had perhaps not let herself feel before, but seeing Arthur with his mom and hearing him talk about his dad had started to chip away at the blocks she had put up to cover those feelings.
She laid down on her bed, trying to allow the feelings to wash over her. This was the time to feel them. She was alone, and she knew that Claudette wouldn’t be coming back for a while. The museum was closed, so her plotting and planning with Arthur had to be finished for the day. Amelia curled up into a little ball on her side, squeezing her eyes together, willing herself to fall asleep. Instead, she began to cry. It came out in a few small gasps at first, and as the feelings deepened and built upon each other, she found herself full-bellied crying into her pillow. She wondered if laughing with Claudette had opened up that space in her being, if laughing and crying lived in the same location in the body, and if they came from the same energy.
Chapter 22
Arthur and his mom left the coffee shop on the busy street, her with her usual green tea in hand and him with his typical banana and granola bar. This banana looked a little green on the ends, but it would have to do. As they walked down the street, his mom spoke up over the noise of the traffic, “I was thinking we could do something different today!”
Arthur listened as a car with a loud siren passed by. His mom paused, and then continued, “I want to check out another museum. There is one down the street…”
Panic overtook Arthur and he responded quickly, “No! No, we can’t — I really don’t want to.”
His mom seemed surprised, taken aback by Arthur saying no so adamantly. “What? What’s wrong? It will be fun. It’s in this huge, old mansion. Very fancy decor. It has a beautiful sculpture garden, and I want to make a watercolor in it.”
“I really want to go to the museum we’ve been going to. I like it there.” His words hung helplessly in the air, and he wished he could put more weight to them to really show how much he felt about not going somewhere different, but he couldn’t explain to his mom the new mission and what amount of responsibility was now on his shoulders. Plus, the number of days they would be in the city were quickly dwindling.
“I’m sorry, sweetie, I brought all of my watercolor supplies! It would be such a waste to not go. We’re going to go to the new museum and I promise you will like it there.”
They walked in silence for a bit, still traveling on their usual route. Arthur tried as hard as he might to think of a reason why they had to go to the same museum. What would appeal most to his mom? That there was something he wanted to learn, something he wanted to draw?
They approached the museum with its many steps that led to the entrance. She had taken his hand and was gently guiding them to keep walking past it.
Arthur stopped in his tracks, looking up at the museum.
“Please? Mom, please.”
She stared at him.
“I don’t ask for much,” he said, pitifully, making her laugh! “No, I really don’t!” He continued, “Please Mom, I really want to go to the same museum. I like it there. I don’t want to go somewhere new today.”
She looked at him and then at the museum, then forward to some place in the distance, further down the street. She took a big sigh, “Okay, as you wish. We can go back there. I will find something to watercolor. But don’t forget this! Don’t forget what a wonderful mom you have!”
After they got inside and got their admission stickers for the day, Arthur decided to grab a map from the front desk that showed all of the sections of the museum, color-coded and easy to follow. His mom watched him take the map curiously, but rather than ask about it, she asked “So, where are you hoping to spend your time today?”
“The Medieval section!” He answered, promptly. He had made plans with Amelia to meet her there today. He realized this probably didn’t explain why he had taken the map, but he’d think of a reason for that if she asked.
“Alright, I’ll join you,” his mom replied, “I think I’ll draw that beautiful Madonna statue today.”
“Didn’t you say that you want to watercolor? Isn’t there something more colorful you’d like to paint?”
She eyed him suspiciously and Arthur realized he might be pushing a bit too much. She probably wanted to be in the same section as him to make sure he wasn’t up to something, since he had been behaving so strangely all morning.
“No,” she said, “I feel called to that particular sculpture today.”
“Great! Then you can keep me company,” Arthur said.
She raised her eyebrows and he realized it might be best if he just didn’t say anything at all.
They walked toward the Medieval section, and after only walking through for about two minutes, Arthur spied Amelia sitting under the large Christmas tree.
“I think I’m going to look at the big tree first.”
“Okay!” Said his mom, “How about today, if you leave the section, come let me know your plans first. Otherwise let’s just stick to the Medieval section, does that sound good?”
“Yes!” Arthur said enthusiastically.
“Alright then. You know where to find me!” And she headed toward the statue, her pads of paper and box filled with watercolors in hand.
Arthur sat down by Amelia.
“Hey.”
“Hey!” She said, barely taking a moment before launching into information: “Sir Philip showed me which sword it is yesterday. It’s very secret, but he trusts us. He doesn’t want us to make it too obvious, though, in case we’re being watched. I’m not sure who would be watching us, though.”
“Maybe the poltergeist?” Arthur suggested, “He seems to be able to be invisible or seen at any time, and he can obviously move things around, so I’m sure Sir Philip doesn’t want him to know.”
“That makes sense!” Amelia answered, “Now, I’ve been giving it some thought. Obviously we need a really good plan. But the one thing that seems to be certain is that you have to be the one to get the sword. I don’t have the physical ability and obviously neither does Sir Philip.”
Arthur nodded. He hadn’t quite taken in the full weight of what was being asked of him. He had to find a way to take a precious object out of a heavily guarded, high security, museum.
“Yes…” he trailed off, “But I’m just a kid. I obviously can’t do it by myself.”
“Of course!” Amelia exclaimed, “I’ve been thinking about that too. You need help. Supernatural help, preferably. So I’m trying to think about what abilities Sir Philip and I have to help you, and that’s where I’m coming up short. I mean, I can be with you at all times and I can be the person to keep a look-out. Obviously I am invisible to adults, so that’s a huge bonus. I also have a lot of knowledge about the museum’s security system, the alarms and the cameras, so I can help with that, too. And Sir Philip knows a lot about the sword and where it needs to go, but I guess we should worry first about getting it out of the museum.”
Arthur wasn’t sure what to add, so he pulled out the museum map from his jacket pocket. “I brought a map. Maybe we can use that for coming up with a path without cameras?”
“It’s really complicated. I mean, let’s just start with the sword itself. Want to go there with me?”
Arthur hesitated. He wasn’t sure if the Arms and Armor section still counted as part of the Medieval wing. He was pretty sure there were weapons there that weren’t Medieval. But, he supposed that he could always claim ignorance with his mom if for some reason he got in trouble.
“Sure,” he shrugged.
They swiftly got up and headed in that direction. Arthur saw his mom as they passed, sitting on a bench and drawing the statue. She was lightly drawing with a pencil, no water colors in sight. He felt a pang realizing how much she cared about him and was willing to change her plans to make sure he was having a good time. He wished he wasn’t having to lie to her or go behind her back, but this was important. When he and Amelia got to the room of swords, they entered it with a sense of reverence and quiet.
At this point, Amelia spoke barely audibly under her breath. “The sword in question is the third one down,” she said, choosing not to point, “from the very top, of course.”
Arthur counted from the top and laid his eyes on the sword in question. It was very old, very worn. It almost looked as if it had suffered many decades of water damage. It also looked very modest, perhaps the most humble sword on the whole wall. There were no extra designs or carvings, and it did not seem to be paired with any kind of sheath.
“I see it.” He said. His confidence dropped a little as he realized that it also looked very heavy. He wondered how he could possibly conceal it, as it also must be half the length of his own body.
“What I wanted to show you,” Amelia said, “Was the fact that it is under an alarm. You see, if you step anywhere over this thin white line on the floor, and if you touch anything hanging on this wall at all, an alarm will go off. I believe the system is a combination of a motion detector for crossing that line and a magnetic trigger if anything on the wall is at all shifted.”
“Is there any way around it? Anyway to turn it off?” He asked nervously. The thought of doing anything that would cause a loud noise and bring attention straight to him made his blood run cold.
“Not that I know of,” Amelia said dejectedly. “But, you see there in the corner?” She pointed up to the corner of the room by the doorway they had walked through, “That is the only camera of the room. That can easily be covered up. And there aren’t any cameras pointed directly at this entryway. So at least if we cover that camera up and get you out as quickly as possible without an eye witness, they shouldn’t be able to identify that it was you who did it.”
He nodded. He also noted mentally that when she said ‘we’ cover up the cameras, it really could only be him, and he had no idea how he would be able to reach the necessary height. And he didn’t know how he would do it without being seen by the camera before he was able to cover it. He noticed that a long list of impossibilities was forming in his mind.
“Okay, let’s get out of here.” She said, “If you’re seen on that camera staring for too long at the swords and looking back and forth at the camera, you may seem suspicious. That is, if they go back that far in the footage. But you never know, so it’s best to keep thinking ahead.”
They left the room and started walking back to the tree. They walked quietly once again, to make sure his mom didn’t catch onto him talking to himself, or so it would seem.
When they sat down by the tree, Arthur saw that he had left the map on the floor. He picked it up and tried to find the spot they were in. He traced their path from the entrance and pointed to their spot on the map. “Luckily,” he said, “We’re close to the entrance.”
“Hmmmm,” Amelia seemed unsure, “I don’t think it would be such a good idea to try to get the sword out of the museum right after the alarms go off. I think that’s a sure way to get caught. I think you should go in the opposite direction with it than they would expect. I’ve been thinking about it, and I think you should hide it in the French section. I know how you can get into the chamber that Claudette and I stay in without being in sight of the cameras, and you could hide the sword under the covers. No one ever does anything in there, unless they are rearranging. No one ever unmakes and remakes the bed or anything. It could lie flat and go without notice.”
“Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves?” Said Arthur, feeling overwhelmed, “How am I supposed to cover up the camera, get the sword, and conceal it and everything? While alarms are going off?”
“We need some kind of distraction…” Amelia trailed off, thoughtfully.
They sat in silence for a while, deep in thought.
Arthur looked up at the tree while he was thinking, the many ornaments glittering under the museum display lights. Less ornaments than there were before the big scene with the poltergeist. With that thought, he sat up straight.
“You know who would be the perfect person to cause a huge disturbance, a really big distraction?” He said.
“Who?”
“That poltergeist. The jester.”
“My dears, I thought you would never ask,” said a slippery voice from directly in front of them. The Jester appeared out of thin air, sitting cross-legged on one of the large, intricately wrapped boxes underneath the tree, his pointed shoe tucked behind his other ankle, with his hands delicately laying in his lap. Arthur noted that he looked much more solid than the other ghosts.
Amelia crossed her arms as if she was creating a sort of barrier in front of herself, as she said with uncertainty, “Who are you? Were you listening in to us? What is it you want?”
“Hmmmm. Who am I? You can call me Sir Foolish.” He said, in a mocking tone seemingly imitating Sir Philip, “Or better yet, Sir Fool-ip. Fool-ip the Tulip.”
Neither Amelia nor Arthur laughed, but the jester laughed uproariously.
“And what is it that I want?” He said mischievously, “Well I’m not looking for pride, or glory, or to be remembered famously forever, like some of those around here. I can’t even remember my own name! I’m just looking to have some fun. And you two look like you’re having the most fun in the whole museum, so I’d like to join.”
“Are you the one who flickered the lights so that I could find my portrait?” Amelia asked demandingly.
“Oh yes, my dear, it was about time! You had been left out of the games for far too long, and I was ready for you to get that part over with and you could mourn whatever for however long and then finally come participate, so that things could be a bit more interesting in this dull place.”
Amelia’s mouth hung open, looking taken aback or offended, Arthur wasn’t sure.
“Why’d you do that to the Christmas tree the other day? What was the point?”
“Like I said,” said Sir Foolish, the option from the list of names that Arthur could remember at the moment, “I got bored! I thought it would be fun to watch all those mortals scurrying to clean up the mess as fast as they could, as if it was the end of the world. But alas, they just put me to sleep like usual.”
He smacked his knees as if he was about to get started on something big, and said with energy, “Now! What is it that you needed help with?”
“Well, how can we know that we can trust you?” asked Amelia.
Sir Foolish sighed and leaned back, looking irritated, “I guess, you can’t. I’m not loyal to anyone. But that also means that I’m not working against you or for any ulterior motive, either. I’m really just in here for a laugh, so it depends only on what you want me to do. The boy mentioned disruption, so I thought I’d offer up my services if it sounds interesting enough to me.”
Amelia rolled her eyes and shook her head, as if to say she didn’t want to include him at all. Arthur, however, had been giving it a bit of thought. The jester had capabilities that no one else had. He could cause a disturbance without being seen, and that could be very useful.
“Could you do what you did with the tree again? Except this time, make it bigger? When we ask you to, of course,not now. It would be a distraction while I take care of something else.”
“But of course!” The jester said, his eyes twinkling.
Arthur looked around the room, “And would you be able to trigger a lot of the alarms while you do it? As many of them as you can in this section, so that they all go off at once?”
“Any and all of them!” the Jester said happily, “I can chuck these ornaments every which way, and I’m a very good shot.”
Amelia looked at Arthur with her eyebrows raised. She seemed to be following his train of thought.
“Could we ask you to do another favor for us before you do that?” she asked.
“Depends, what is it?”
“Could you cover up a camera with a piece of cloth or something?”
Sir Foolish’s mouth broke out into a wide grin, and he nodded triumphantly.
Arthur could see all of the pieces starting to come together.
