Time Castaways #1

  “What are you doing?” Matt whispered. He would be seen!

  “That staircase is the only exit,” said the captain. “And Peruggia knows it. Who wants to go first?” He held up a length of the rope.

  “You mean . . . you can’t possibly mean for us to climb down from here!” Ruby whispered frantically.

  “Well, it’s either that or face Peruggia,” said the captain. “And it’s best if we keep our interactions to a minimum, for reasons of time-travel safety, if nothing else.”

  “I’ll go first!” said Corey. He crawled toward the captain, who deftly made a large loop at the end of the rope, then secured it around Corey’s middle. “Now just hang on. I’ll lower you down. I promise I won’t drop you.”

  Corey jumped over to the other side of the balcony, clearly eager for this risky adventure of which their parents would never approve. For his birthday Corey once wanted to go skydiving. He didn’t get any further in the negotiations than Matt did for the exchange program in Paris.

  “Don’t fall,” said Ruby in a small voice, her eyes squeezed shut.

  “It’s all right,” said the captain. “I’ve got him.” The captain pulled the rope taut and braced himself with his foot against the balcony. “Here we go.” Corey held on to the rope and stepped out into the open air. Matt gripped the edge of the balcony as he watched the captain lower him down, swiftly but with control. Still, it gave him a bit of vertigo. Matt did not love heights. He had never had any desire to go skydiving. He didn’t even like standing at the top of the Empire State Building. In less than a minute Corey made it safely to the ground and gave them a thumbs-up. He took off the rope, and the captain quickly pulled it to the top.

  “All right, who’s next?”

  Matt and Ruby looked at each other. As the older brother, Matt felt he should buck up and go next, but he felt paralyzed. Ruby seemed to know it too. She gritted her teeth and stepped forward. She slid the rope around her waist and climbed over the railing. The captain lowered her down with the same ease as he had done with Corey, perhaps a little too swiftly for Matt. All too soon Ruby was on the ground and the captain had pulled up the rope. He held out the loop for Matt to slip inside.

  “Maybe Peruggia’s gone now and we can just take the stairs?” said Matt, his voice cracking a little.

  “Afraid of heights, are you?” said the captain with a little smile. He pulled the rope over Matt’s head and tightened it around his waist. “I’m not too fond of them either. Just close your eyes. You’ll be on the ground before you know it.” He lifted Matt over the balcony like a sack of potatoes. Matt grasped the edge. The whole building seemed to sway. “And I’d like you to carry her down with you.” The captain picked up the sack carrying the Mona Lisa and held it out to Matt.

  “Oh, I don’t think—”

  “I can’t carry it and lower myself down safely. What if I dropped her? That would be a tragedy.” The captain swung the painting over Matt’s back and pressed the strings into his hands. His palms were suddenly sweaty.

  “But what if I drop her?”

  “You won’t,” said the captain. “I have the utmost faith in you, Mateo.”

  Suddenly the window burst open and Peruggia came hurtling through. The captain turned toward him, and in his surprise let the rope slide. Matt lost his balance and suddenly plummeted from the balcony. He fell for what felt like ages, jerking to a stop directly in front of a statue of a somber-looking man holding a sword. He looked down to see Corey looking up at him and Ruby peeking through her fingers over her eyes. Matt craned his head upward to see the captain struggling with Peruggia. Peruggia was much smaller than the captain, but he had the use of all his limbs, unlike the captain, who was holding on to the rope with one hand, bracing himself against the balcony to keep from dropping Matt. Peruggia swung at the captain. The captain reared back to dodge the blow but lost his grip on the rope again. Ruby screamed as Matt plummeted another ten feet, then jerked to a stop that cinched him hard around his middle.

  “I got you!” said Corey, holding up his hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you, bro.”

  Corey was a good catcher, but there was a big difference between catching a baseball in a glove and a human, plus the most valuable painting in the world. Matt looked up again. The captain was struggling to fend off Peruggia, who was fighting like a little pit bull, punching him in the ribs, pulling at his hair. The captain glanced down at Matt, dangling ten feet above the ground.

  “I got him, Captain!” shouted Corey. “You can let go!”

  “No!” shouted Matt.

  Suddenly the white rat burst out of the captain’s jacket and attacked Peruggia, biting him full on the nose. It scurried around his head and down his shirt. Peruggia yelped and stumbled away from the captain, but in the shift of power, the captain had lost his grip once again and Matt went hurtling toward the ground.

  He crashed face-first into both Corey and Ruby, the painting slamming onto his back.

  “Oof!” said Corey. “You’re heavier than you look.”

  Matt turned over and looked up to see the captain swing himself over the balcony while Peruggia was doing a strange sort of dance.

  “Come, Santiago,” said the captain.

  A moment later the rat popped out from between the buttons of Peruggia’s smock and leaped for the captain, who then jumped from the balcony and dropped down in five seconds. He hit the ground running.

  “Let’s go!” he said.

  They all scrambled to their feet. Matt hoisted the painting over his shoulder and ran as fast as he could. He looked back just for a moment to see the rope fall. Peruggia slammed his hands against the balcony and ran back to the window.

  They sprinted to the end of the Louvre and tucked themselves back into the alcove where they’d started. Matt tried to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. A minute later Peruggia burst out of the museum, gasping and wheezing. The captain pressed them all back into the shadows and held up a finger.

  Peruggia staggered out of an archway and looked all around him, up and down the Louvre then out toward the open square and streets. He rapped on his head and tore at his mustache. A police officer with a baton in hand passed by, eyeing Peruggia warily. Matt’s heart thrummed in his chest and ears.

  “Do you think he’ll go to the police?” Ruby whispered.

  “No, it’s too risky,” said the captain. “The French don’t generally trust Italians, and he shouldn’t have been in the museum in the first place.”

  Sure enough, Peruggia quickly walked past the police officer, took one more glance back at the museum, then disappeared around a street corner.

  The door behind them opened. Matt jumped and Ruby squeaked a little, until they saw it was Jia and Albert. Wiley came a moment later.

  “All clear?” said the captain. They all nodded. “Very good. Move out, crew!”

  They hurried across the open square, down the cobblestoned streets, and finally slowed as more pedestrians and carriages crowded their path. Matt was still breathless, his heart still pounding. He was certain that at any moment the police would arrive, blowing whistles and brandishing batons, Peruggia at their heels, but no one came. No one seemed to notice them at all. The city was still quite sleepy. A shop owner swept the sidewalk. A woman walked a fussy infant in a baby carriage. She wore a long blue dress with a matching hat tilted to one side. Definitely not twenty-first-century fashion.

  After they’d been walking a few minutes, Matt calmed down enough for his brain to register a few clear thoughts. First, he realized that his body was incredibly sore from his two falls, not to mention the rope burn around his middle. He winced as he felt a pain shoot in his ribs and his knee. He’d never felt pain in dreams before, and he’d never run so fast in them. In fact, he usually couldn’t run at all in his dreams, which was always incredibly frustrating. He finally had to conclude that this was no dream. He was not going to suddenly wake up. He was wide awake, and what he’d just experienced, however improbable
, happened. They had traveled to Paris, France, time-traveled to 1911, and they’d just stolen the Mona Lisa right out of the Louvre. Matt was still carrying it in the sack over his shoulder, walking down a public street, following the mysterious man who had orchestrated this entire heist. His head swam with questions. How had the captain done it? And why? What was his motive in all of this? he wondered. And why did he so readily allow Matt and his siblings to be so intimately involved in such an important mission? Matt had nearly ruined the whole thing, and yet this Captain Vincent, whoever he was, had not seemed the least bit angry or annoyed with him and had saved all their necks. But what did that make him? Good? Trustworthy? Matt watched Captain Vincent walk confidently down the cobblestoned street, a slight swagger in his step. He nodded at a woman crossing with a loaf of bread in her arms.

  “Bonjour, madame,” he said. “C’est une belle matinée, non?” His French was flawless. Matt would have guessed he was actually from France.

  “Oui, monsieur,” the woman replied.

  An old man in dirty, ragged clothing with bare feet was crouched in the gutter, searching for something. An old-fashioned motorcar rumbled by and splashed muddy water all over him.

  “Ah!” The man stumbled back, spitting. “Imbécile! Idiot!” He shook a fist after the car and then slumped down on the side of the road.

  “Oh, poor fellow,” said the captain. He walked straight over to the man, and Matt watched as the captain pulled out a small leather pouch and pressed it into the man’s hands. “Pour vous, monsieur.”

  The man looked inside, and his bedraggled, lined face instantly lifted in happy disbelief. He stared inside the little pouch, looked questioningly up at the captain, then back down at the pouch. Finally he grasped the captain’s hands.

  “Merci, monsieur! Merci beaucoup!”

  The captain patted the man on the shoulder. He started to move away but then turned back. He slipped off his red Converse and held them out. The man looked perplexed at their modern design and bold color, yet he instantly slipped them onto his bare feet and tapped them on the cobbles, smiling cheerfully, showing crooked, yellow teeth, both hands clasped around the leather pouch.

  The captain returned to the group, now barefoot, but also smiling.

  “Why did you give him your shoes?” said Ruby. “It seemed like you gave him enough money to buy his own.”

  “He’d never be able to find such comfortable shoes in this day. Besides, I have another pair back on the Vermillion. We must always share our good fortune whenever possible.”

  Matt was suddenly reminded of his dad. Mr. Hudson always gave spare change whenever he saw someone who needed it and said something very similar. “We must give what we can when we can,” he’d say.

  Matt followed after the captain, perhaps with a little more trust now. They turned on the same narrow street through which they had come. Ahead, a shiny black train with gold trim puffed steam. Matt recognized the star with the red V he’d seen on the side of the subway train now painted on the nose of the engine.

  Brocco stuck his head out from the front window, still wearing his cape, but also an engineer’s striped cap.

  The train gave a high whistle and let off a cloud of steam. “All aboard!” called Brocco.

  Matt quickened his pace. The Mona Lisa seemed twice as heavy now and only grew heavier with each step. The captain hopped onto the train, then reached back to help everyone else. When he pulled Matt on board, he clasped his shoulder and said, “Well done, Mateo!”

  The doors closed. The train let out another puff of steam and began to chug forward. Matt finally breathed freely again, and it was only then that he realized something. He had never told Captain Vincent his name, had he?

  6

  Flummoxed

  “Prepare for a quantum time leap!” said the captain as he pulled the watch out of his sleeve once again and began to turn the dials.

  Matt was still a little discombobulated by all that had happened in the last however many hours, but he was a quick learner and took the example of the rest of the passengers. Corey and Ruby clearly had the same thought. They both held on to opposite ends of a table while Matt braced himself on one of the plush chairs, but as the train picked up speed, it began to vibrate so violently his teeth started to rattle. Faster and faster, louder and louder the train roared. Matt looked out the window to view the landscape rushing by—blurred buildings and trees, people that seemed to be whizzing past him on a speeding conveyor belt. The train was going at least a hundred miles an hour, he thought, maybe faster. There was a flash of bright light and then all the candles flickered out.

  Once again, the train began to shift around them. The floors widened, the walls spread as though they were being stretched and pulled by some invisible force. The carpet retracted into the wooden planks and all the furniture went through a series of changes. Matt watched in awe as the chair he’d been clinging to shrank and grew and then shrank again, changing colors and materials, as if it were trying on different outfits at a shop, until it finally seemed to make up its mind and settled as an ornately carved oak chair lined with red velvet.

  All the small tables shifted and combined like a Tetris game to become one long table, which nearly crushed Corey in the middle before he slipped beneath them. The chandeliers on the ceiling melded together to make a large silver chandelier with many candles.

  Finally everything settled into place, and the train seemed to steady and quiet. Matt still braced himself on the chair, though. His heart was pounding very hard, his limbs were trembling, and he was slightly dizzy. He looked around for his brother and sister.

  Corey crawled out from under the table and shook himself like a wet dog as he stood. “Crazy,” he said.

  “Where’s Ruby?” Matt asked. The other passengers were emerging from various corners and furniture, but he didn’t see her anywhere.

  “Ruby?” Corey called. “You can come out now!”

  “Help!” cried a muffled voice. They looked around until Matt spotted a chest with a brass latch that was rattling a bit. He ran over and opened it. There was Ruby, curled up with a pile of table linens covered in mothballs, her arms wrapped around a silver candelabra.

  Matt and Corey reached down and helped her out. Her usually straight, dark hair was now a little frizzy and wild, her eyes wide with shock. She looked like someone who’d walked through a strong windstorm.

  “That was . . . that was . . .” She searched for the words.

  “That was awesome!” Corey shouted, and he punched the air.

  Matt smiled a little. Now that the danger seemed to be past them, he had to admit it had been pretty exciting.

  “I’m so glad you enjoyed yourselves,” said the captain, sliding the black watch on the gold chain back inside his sleeve. “I must say you did an excellent job for your first mission. Incredible, really.”

  Ruby smiled but then knit her brow. “But . . . we just stole the Mona Lisa!”

  “Actually, we just saved it from being stolen,” said Albert, pushing his glasses up on his pudgy nose. “The Mona Lisa was going to get stolen anyway. We just intercepted the real thief, Vincenzo Peruggia.”

  He pronounced the name Peru-gee-uh. Matt had studied sufficient Italian to know it should have been Peru-jah. He had an itch to correct Albert, but Ruby spoke first.

  “So that makes it okay, does it?” said Ruby. “We can steal it because someone else was going to steal it anyway?”

  “Miss Ruby, you misunderstand our noble intentions,” said the captain. “Peruggia eventually gets caught in 1913. So we will keep the painting for a while, enjoy its many virtues, then plant it back on the real thief when the time is right.”

  Matt’s brain was whirling. “So . . . we stole the Mona Lisa before some other guy could steal it, and then we’ll plant it back on the guy who didn’t steal it, but would have if we hadn’t, so he still takes the blame for us stealing it?”

  “We call it out-crooking a real crook,” said Jia,
smiling.

  “Exactly,” said Captain Vincent. “It’s difficult work, but quite rewarding. Mateo, the painting, if you please?” The captain held his hand out. Matt twitched a little as he remembered he was still clutching the sack that held the Mona Lisa. He carefully slid it off his shoulder and held it out to the captain, glad to be relieved of the burden.

  Captain Vincent gently removed the painting from the sack and held it gingerly in his hands for all to see. Everyone crowded in to look at it, all of them still and quiet, like they were in the presence of a sacred relic.

  Matt regarded the painting. He had never been much of an art enthusiast, but he had to admit the Mona Lisa was captivating, and far more interesting in real life, up close, than any pictures he’d seen of it in books or on the internet. The strokes of paint, the texture and colors, shapes and shadows . . . it was all at once simple but complex, ordinary yet marvelous. The work of a genius.

  “Isn’t she dazzling?” said the captain. “Such beauty and mystery.”

  Matt vaguely recalled a conversation between his parents and Ruby about this very painting. Ruby had asked what made certain pieces of art so famous and others less so. Mrs. Hudson replied that it was always the stories and mysteries about art that captivated people. “Take the Mona Lisa,” she said. “It’s not a particularly grand painting, just a picture of a woman, but her expression, her eyes . . . very mysterious. Da Vinci captured an expression that no one could quite read or translate, and the world treasures the mystery of her. She symbolizes all the secrets women hold within them that no one will ever be able to decode.”

  “She symbolizes why all women drive men mad,” their father had said, to which their mother blew a big wet raspberry right in his face.

  Matt smiled at the memory and then frowned. What would his parents say right now if they were here with them, staring at the Mona Lisa, which had just been stolen by their own children? The reality of what they’d done, what they were standing before, truly began to sink in . . . not to mention that they’d supposedly traveled through time and space, a hundred years in the past, thousands of miles in a matter of minutes. Impossible! No, Matt thought. Improbable maybe, but not impossible. He knew time travel was possible in theory. Einstein and other scientists had all made strong cases for why and how it could happen, but Matt had never heard of anyone bringing it from theory to reality. Until now. A hundred questions suddenly popped into his head.