Chapter Eight
On With the Tour
Perhaps the curator was an overly large fan of cooking. For all Maria knew, Evelyn might have tattoos of spatulas and whisks and measuring cups all over her body, hidden beneath her fancy suit. It would certainly be a weird choice, but anything was possible.
Still… it seemed so odd. Maria would have never speculated that the well-dressed, no-nonsense, professional woman would have a tattoo, especially of something that seemed so randomly chosen.
Maria continued to turn her head, so as to get a better look, until her noggin was turned almost completely horizontal. Apparently noticing Maria’s keen interest, Evelyn shot a glare at the curious ten-year-old, and briskly returned her arm to her side. Her sleeve once more covered her wrist, concealing the tattoo from inquisitive eyes.
Evelyn then addressed the student body as a whole, amplifying her crisp voice so that it projected across the museum. “My assistant, Mr. Weatherbee, will now take over for me. Please follow him to the next group of exhibits.”
A very short, mildly rumpled man appeared, shuffling forward to lead the group. He was dressed in a dull, brown suit, and he walked with a subtle gait that projected the notion that he was never in a great hurry to get anywhere, or to do anything.
Amazingly, the Beans realized that this man, Mr. Weatherbee, had been standing very close to them, yet they had failed to even notice his presence. Had he been with the tour group the entire time, they wondered?
Mr. Weatherbee had the type of personality and demeanor that enabled him to blend in. He was, quite simply, plain and quiet. His stature was diminutive, with slightly rounded shoulders. The generic, boring clothing that he wore did nothing to make him stand out. There was not a single thing about him that might be deemed memorable or remarkable, and one could forget his emotionless face only moments after seeing it.
The only thing about him that was a bit odd was that he had a habit of scratching at the base of his neck. He would frequently place his fingertips on the inside of his shirt collar and move them about, as if the fabric of his clothing was causing his skin to become irritated.
“Go on, follow Mr. Weatherbee,” Evelyn said to the group. Turning on her heel, she made to leave, but then reconsidered. She paused and pivoted, directing her attention to Maria. “And do try your best to stay on the correct side of the barriers, children.”
Despite her generally bold attitude, Maria felt herself withering somewhat beneath that penetrating gaze. “Yes, ma’am!” she assured the curator.
Evelyn’s stern expression remained, but she must have been satisfied, for she looked away from Maria and departed. She had a brisk, powerful stride that matched her personality, her heels clicking along the tile floor with purpose.
“This way, please,” Mr. Weatherbee said in a dull, monotone voice that suggested he might tumble over and begin napping at any moment.
The tour group fell in behind the shuffling assistant curator as he ambled toward the next section of the museum. Ms. Waffler traipsed along at the back of the group, shepherding the schoolchildren before her, as she openly marveled at the exhibits, releasing plenty of oohs and ahs, as various wonders caught her eye.
The Beans were somewhere in the middle of this large group. As the sea of students milled about them, talking and laughing, they gathered close.
“Gears and sprockets! Did you see how that lady put Jasper in his place?” asked Jack. “That was magnificent!”
“We’re all in agreement on that,” Neil assured his friend. “This is a pretty cool museum and all, but when she snatched that corncob pipe out of his mouth, and he was just standing there gaping, like a fish out of water… well, that was the best part of the field trip, by far.”
“And his face when she threatened to take his broom away!” Sara chuckled. “Priceless!”
“Serves him right, after all the evildoing he’s been getting up to lately. I can’t stand that big bully and all the dastardly deeds he’s been committing,” Jack said, as he began counting Jasper’s foul acts upon his fingers. “First, he tries to ruin our river and shut down Coach’s sneaker factory. Then, he sets up my dad to take the fall, and gets him shipped off to prison. And then, he helped to steal SunTech from Uncle Lefty!”
“He’s a first rate doorknob, there’s no doubt about that,” Neil said. Doorknob was a term the Beans had heard Lefty use to describe Jasper, and they had immediately taken a liking to it. There was no doubt that it was an apt description for the bumbling, grumbling janitor. “But on the bright side, Lefty being forced to leave town has resulted in you getting to stay with my folks again.”
“That’s true,” Jack said, and his appreciation was genuine. Though the living arrangements were temporary, Jack and his dog, Nibbler, had once more found a welcome refuge with Neil’s family. “And I couldn’t have asked for a better place to stay.”
The Beans were moving along with the crowd of students, which was slowly heading toward the next section of the museum, following behind Mr. Weatherbee and his dreary, brown suit. Even as they engaged in conversation, they could not help but look this way and that, compelled by the fascinating sights that surrounded them.
There was plenty of strategically placed lighting that helped to illuminate the artifacts. But even more effective than the artificial lighting were the oodles of sunlight that poured in from above the students.
The museum had been cleverly designed with several massive skylights, which were placed throughout the high ceiling. These enormous windows permitted the sunlight to pour into the building on fine days such as this, granting the museum a bright, pleasant atmosphere.
The current area they were in was filled with artifacts from China, such as the splendid Guardian Lion statue, and they were looking forward to whatever pieces might be held in the next.
Suddenly, however, Maria came to a halt, and her body grew rigid.
“Hey,” she said to the others in a lowered voice. She had turned her head, and was looking away from the direction that the tour was moving. “Look at what that galoot is doing. Do you think he’s already getting up to something again? When will that buffoon learn?”
Neil, Jack, and Sara looked in the direction that Maria had indicated. There was a wide hallway illuminated by overhead lighting, which branched off from the large, Chinese-themed room that they were currently in. On either side of the hallway, there were rectangular stands that held smaller artifacts, encased in clear cubes that were designed to protect them. Interspersed between these exhibits were framed objects that adorned the walls.
Evelyn Magellan was briskly marching down the hallway, propelled by her purposeful strides. Even from this distance, the Beans could hear her heels clicking along on the tile floor with a machine-like rhythm.
Nothing about this was particularly noteworthy. What was interesting, however, was that Jasper was clearly in the process of skulking after Evelyn.
He was currently doing his best to hunker down behind one of the rectangular stands in the hallway, though this was a rather ridiculous endeavor for such an oafish hulk of a man. He slyly looked this way and that, his single eye narrowed to a sneaky crescent, taking cover behind a collection of colorful vases.
Jasper was not what one would call a stealthy individual. Yet, despite the limitations that his unusually large size (not to mention his current limp) imposed upon him, he was doing his best to slink after the curator. Staying as low to the floor as possible, he limped from one piece of cover to the next, peering around edges to keep an eye on his quarry.
Jasper’s attempts at stealth were really quite comical, and as they observed his clumsy efforts, the Beans could not help but be reminded of the time he had blundered into a booby trap… a booby trap that had been laid by a band of crafty squirrels.
The reality was, should Evelyn happen to turn around, she would instantly spot Jasper. However, she had no reason whatsoever to suspect that she was being pursued… it certainly wasn’t the kind
of thing one would expect to occur in her line of work.
Evelyn marched with determination down the hallway, posture rigid, her focus straight ahead. She never glanced back, and Jasper continued about his oafish endeavor unnoticed, his bearish shoulders hunched, his face scrunched into a visage of undeniable menace.