Chapter Twelve
Famous Faces and Uncharted Places
Evelyn did not answer the query, and she looked impassively back at Maria. But the sisters could have sworn that the curator flinched the slightest amount, as if the admonishment had caused her some small degree of guilt or remorse.
“Yes… I suppose you thought you were rather clever to notice that, eh?” Jasper chuckled.
“Um, no, not particularly,” Maria said. “I was just standing in the right place at the right time. Ms. Magellan checked her watch, her sleeve pulled back, and then I could see it for a moment.”
“It is a symbol of allegiance to our group. All among our number have willingly received the mark, in order to further prove their loyalty to our mission,” Jasper elaborated – without need, of course, but he was in an especially boisterous and talkative mood today. He was undoubtedly emboldened by the great, mysterious victory that he felt was near at hand. “Why, I have the very same tattoo upon my own wrist… though you weren’t quite clever enough to ever detect that, were you?”
It was true that Maria and Sara had never seen a tattoo on Jasper, but this was a minor point. Such a secret was quite insignificant, considering all the far more outrageous aspects to his strange past.
As Jasper needlessly expounded upon the grandness of the cause of the Black Hats, and how critical it was that their members each held unquestionable loyalty to the organization, the girls had a moment to examine their surroundings. The curator’s office was an interesting, finely appointed room.
Unlike the rest of the museum that they had seen thus far, there were no tiles here. Instead, the floor was built with lengths of a dark, rich wood, which creaked somewhat as the occupants moved about. In the center of the floor, there lay a beautiful Persian rug, imbued with patterns and colors that engaged the eye.
Evelyn’s desk was a broad affair that had been ornately fashioned from fine pieces of cherry wood. Atop its wide surface, there were a number of items, such as a nameplate, a canister of writing implements, protractors, and compasses.
In one corner of the desk, there was a large globe. Beside it, there was the corncob pipe Evelyn had taken from Jasper. There were also a great many papers and folders spread about, which she had clearly been in the process of examining.
Most notable, however, was a map of the earth, half covered by the other papers on the desk. It had been written upon dozens of times with a red marker, though from their position, Maria and Sara could not make out what the annotations actually said.
There were also several “X” marks, which had been placed at various points on the map with the same red ink. They were spread across the earth, spanning from continent to continent… it was an intriguing aspect to the map, to say the least.
If there was any rhyme or reason to the placement of the X marks, the sisters could not discern it – at least not while trying to examine the partially concealed map upside down, and standing back from it at such a distance.
Evelyn had been interrupted in the midst of something most peculiar… something that had been important enough for her to leave the responsibilities of guiding the field trip to her assistant. What could she be up to, the sisters wondered? What could the purpose of this fascinating map be?
As Jasper continued to babble, Maria and Sara seized the precious opportunity to scan the rest of the office. Unable to read the map with any amount of careful scrutiny from their current position, they went about searching for additional clues. They slowly swiveled their heads and shifted their eyes, so as to hopefully avoid suspicion of their clandestine activity.
The entire wall behind Evelyn’s desk was filled with books. Custom cases and shelves had been built into that portion of the office, from floor to ceiling. There was a broad array of titles, displaying such a variety of color, material, shapes, and sizes, it made for a rather interesting (and strangely intimidating) mosaic behind the curator.
To Evelyn’s right, there was a wide, panoramic window that provided a wonderful view of the Portsmouth harbor and the vast, seemingly endless ocean beyond. Ships gently swayed with the rhythm of waves, and laborers could be seen scurrying about the docks as they conducted their duties.
Dark clouds appeared in the distance, and it seemed that a storm might have been approaching from the sea. But it had not yet reached shore, and for the time being, the day remained beautiful.
An abundance of sunlight penetrated the window, bathing the office in its warming rays. Through the glass, the faint cries of seagulls could be heard as they circled above the docks, calling to their feathered colleagues who glided about on the currents of air.
To Evelyn’s left, there was a wall that featured many portraits, rendered by oil paint and kept within frames that looked expensive enough to befit their current home in a museum. Though many of the faces were not immediately identifiable to the sisters, they did recognize most of the names that were placed beneath each of them, thanks to their studies of history in school.
There were paintings of Marco Polo, Francis Drake, Isabelle Eberhardt, and Walter Raleigh. Others contained likenesses of Ponce de Leon and Amerigo Vespucci, and the sisters could not help but remember that Evelyn had cried out the name of the latter as an exclamation of alarm, when she had caught Maria attempting to touch the statue of the Guardian Lion. There was a portrait of Christopher Columbus, as well – an explorer whom any middle grader would be familiar with.
A man who was dressed in the garb of a desert traveler was represented in a painting, standing beside a camel. Beneath this portrait, a plaque read: “Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that all was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, and make it possible.” –T.E. Lawrence.
One painting stood out from the others, for it contained two individuals, rather than one. The plate beneath it read, “Meriweather Lewis and William Clark”. Beside it, there were portraits of John Smith and Henry Hudson. There was even a painting of Neil Armstrong, who the sisters recognized as the first man to ever set foot on the moon.
Undoubtedly, there was a common theme among this collection of portraits – they were all famous explorers; people who had earned their spots in history by venturing into previously uncharted places.
There was something else in the office… something that looked at odds with the rest of the décor. Beside the curator’s desk, there stood a wooden sculpture of a penguin. It was about two and a half feet in height, and it was quite plump. Its belly was white, its back was black, and it had webbed feet and rigid wings. Its somewhat whimsical appearance contrasted the otherwise somber aura of the office.
“Hey! Are you paying attention?” Jasper demanded, elevating his gravelly voice. “How dare you let your minds wander while I’m lecturing you!”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Cragglemeister, we’re hanging on your every word,” Maria assured the janitor. “We were just admiring this wonderful collection of artwork over here, that’s all.”
“We have the utmost respect for history, you see,” Sara told him. “We’re big fans of our school lessons.”
“For all the good it’s done you,” Jasper grumbled. “You’ve failed miserably at the one lesson that you should have absorbed long ago – respect for your elders!”
“Um, right,” Sara agreed, without very much enthusiasm, for she was being instructed by a most unethical and cantankerous galoot. “Respect for our elders, it is. Words to live by!”
“You see?” Jasper asked of Evelyn, imploring her to his cause. “Full of gumption and pickled beets, they are. Now, perhaps you’re starting to see the picture that I painted for you, and the amount of insolence I’m dealing with here.”
“Pickled beets?” Maria whispered to her sister.
Sara could only shrug in return, as she stifled a giggle. She knew it was probably best not to laugh too audibly in front of Jasper at the moment.
“Indeed,” Ev
elyn said, in apparent agreement with the assessment. With a sigh, she added, “I suppose they must be punished, after all.”
“Yes!” Jasper exclaimed, very nearly leaping out of his boots in his excitement. “Now that’s the ticket!”
“Very well, Jasper,” Evelyn said in her crisp, business-like tone. “Bring them closer.”