Chapter 23 & 24 - The Child in the Museum

Chapter 23

That evening, Amelia made it back to the French section, her mind buzzing with ideas. When she entered the room, she saw Claudette sitting at her chair like normal, but something seemed to be different about her.

Before making her presence known, Amelia stared at her for a minute. Claudette seemed light as a feather, as if she wasn’t really sitting in the chair at all, but floating. She seemed more transparent than usual, almost barely there, and she looked like she had more of a shimmer about her. Amelia remembered Claudette’s dress looking shimmery before, but now it was all of her. Amelia walked forward, closer, still without notice, and saw more clearly that Claudette’s form was barely there. In the past, Amelia could clearly make out the powder on her cheeks, the texture of her wig, but no longer.

Claudette was wistfully humming, but the sound seemed to be ringing and echoing in a different sort of space than the room that they were in. It was as if Claudette were in a large chapel, with organ pipes for the sound to bounce off of.

“Claudette?” Amelia said, softly.

Claudette turned to her, her eyes looking into hers. Amelia noticed that she could see through Claudette’s eyes as well, which she had never noticed before, looking into her own eyes or Sir Philip’s.

“Ah, my dear, hello!” Claudette said musically, “I have so much to tell you.”

Amelia decided not to bring up the change in appearance quite yet: “How was your date?”

“Perfect. Simply perfect. And I have fallen in love!”

“So fast?” asked Amelia.

“Yes, nearly immediately. And I know for sure because, well you see, I’ve changed.”

Amelia was quiet, just looking at her. She wondered if Claudette was referring to the changes in appearance, if those would be obvious to her as well. She did, Amelia supposed, spend a lot of time looking in the mirror, so perhaps she would easily pick up on those changes as well.

“I am free.” said Claudette, still in a sing-songy manner. “I have fallen in love, and I no longer feel the heartbreak of my past. In fact, I am very happy that I experienced it, because it has allowed me to be here, to experience this.”

“You’re free? What does that mean?” Amelia was fascinated.

“It means I am free to leave this Earth. I am free to travel to the great...beyond, if I wish to.”

“Oh!” Amelia said, surprised, and a little confused, “But you’ve had barely any time to spend with Sir Philip, to really get to know him, to know for sure that you’re in love.”

“You see what’s going on exactly, then.” said Claudette, “My freedom has nothing to do with him. It only has to do with me, with how I feel. My own feelings have liberated me.”

“Could you have become free without him?” Amelia asked, curiously.

“I believe so, yes. But I didn’t realize that until now.”

“So why are you still here?” Right after saying it, Amelia was worried that she had asked too direct of a question, but Claudette only smiled.

“I am making a decision. I have decided to hang on a little longer because, as you said, I have barely had any time with Sir Philip. I have decided to wait for him. But you see, that’s what it is – a choice. Love is a choice, and that’s why it’s so beautiful. I am free and independent now, but I choose to stay back until Sir Philip can join me. Isn’t that the most romantic story you’ve ever heard?”

Amelia nodded, taking in the words she was saying. Being so young and having no family that she remembered, Amelia really didn’t understand yet the depths of love. It sounded beautiful, but maybe a bit above her head. What was hitting Amelia was another realization entirely. This way of living, this situation that all of the ghosts of the museum had found themselves in, was temporary — or at least could be. If Claudette could free herself, could the other ghosts do that as well? Could Amelia?

Chapter 24

Arthur entered the museum the next day with a sense of real determination. The plan was set, and there was no time to waste. He realized the possibility of his mom deciding to take them to another museum, maybe even for the whole last week of their trip, so he really didn’t want to risk not being able to do all he could for the mission. He was going to try to be as brave as Sir Philip, and do everything he could that day to get the sword out.

The biggest fear that Arthur had was not getting caught by the authorities or the museum staff, but rather his parents thinking that he was now someone who would try to steal. He hated getting in trouble over the pastry, and he couldn’t imagine what the reaction would be with something so important and valuable as a historical sword.

His mom posted herself in the Medieval section again, which Arthur wasn’t sure would be good or bad. It meant that she was in the line of fire for the huge commotion that they had planned with Sir Foolish, but it also meant that he was positioned in the right section to do all that he needed to do. The missing piece of the puzzle from yesterday was the question of how Arthur would get the sword from the Arms and Armor section upstairs to the French Room Decor and Furniture section. Last night, however, he had come up with the most brilliant idea. He had asked his mom if he could borrow her fold-up easel in its bag, along with a pad of paper and some drawing pencils. He told her that he was planning to do a serious piece of art in the museum today, and he knew that she would be unable to resist the idea of him doing that. His plan was to then slip the sword into the bag along with the easel, which was probably about the same length and would hopefully create a reason for the size and shape of the bag he would then carry upstairs.

The other unspoken concern that he had, and he was sure Amelia and Sir Philip had as well, was trusting Sir Foolish. None of them, however, decided to address this because it really seemed like he was the only hope they had, so it was easier to just have faith that it would all work out for the best.

Amelia and Sir Philip were waiting for him at the foot of the Christmas tree. He and his mom had a later start this morning than usual, and were getting to the museum mid-morning instead of early. The good thing about this, however, was that there were a bit more people in the museum to be part of the diversion. 

Almost as if Amelia had read his mind, she said, “It seems like the right time to begin. There are enough people here to take the suspicion off of you, but not so many to crowd the section around the sword. Hopefully if we time it perfectly, we can get you in there when no one is around.”

“I imagine,” added Sir Philip, “That when the ornaments start flying off of the tree, visitors will scatter and some will go right in your direction. So it’s important to do it as quickly as possible.”

Good, no time to get too nervous.

“Any sign of Sir Foolish?” Arthur asked, already feeling out of breath. Sir Philip rolled his eyes at the mention of the name, and Arthur suspected that he had clearly recognized it as a mockery of himself.

“No…” said Amelia, uncertainly. She looked around the tree. “We really need him to be able to get going.”

“I like to keep you on your toes,” said a familiar, silky voice. The jester, Sir Foolish, appeared out of thin air, sitting cross legged once again in front of them. “I thought I could have a bit of some extra fun today. You said you needed a cloth to cover up the camera?”

“Yes…” said Amelia suspiciously.

“Well,” he said mischievously, laying out a piece of black cloth. Arthur leaned forward to get a better look, seeing t-shirt material. As Sir Foolish unfolded it, he revealed white embroidery that said ‘Museum Management’ on the front.

“Framing anyone specific, are we?” Sir Philip said in a disapproving tone.

“You and your honor!” exclaimed Sir Foolish, he said ‘honor’ in a syrupy, overly-affected tone. “That’s for me to worry about. You said you needed my help, and I am here. Helping you.”

“Of course you have another agenda.” said Sir Philip, the tone of his voice rising as well.

“Hey, hey…” said Amelia, “Please, let’s just focus on the task at hand. I’m personally not going to try to control what Sir Foolish does in his free time, and I think it would be most efficient if no one else worries about it either.”

Sir Foolish gave her a deep bow, and winked at Arthur as he stood up.

Arthur was a little bit relieved, if he were being honest. He had suspected that Sir Foolish wouldn’t be doing this entirely out of the goodness of his heart, and he was glad that if there is an ulterior motive, it didn’t have anything to do with them.

“It doesn’t matter to me which cloth you use,” Arthur said, “but let’s get started.” He really wanted to get going before he lost his nerve. He took one last look at his mom, who was well out of earshot, peacefully working on her drawing of the Mother Mary statue.

“Alrighty then,” said Sir Foolish as he stuffed the t-shirt in a pocket and zoomed through the adjoining room, toward the secluded room with the swords.

“Oh, I was hoping we’d lay down the plan a bit more first…” said Amelia nervously.

“No need,” said Sir Philip, “Let’s assume our positions. Arthur, you know what you need to do next. As soon as you hear the alarms start to be triggered, get the sword. Amelia, you stay by Arthur’s side and guide him to the French section out of sight of cameras. I will stay here and keep an eye on our friendly neighborhood poltergeist to make sure he doesn’t get into some seriously damaging mischief.”

Arthur started walking quickly in the direction that Sir Foolish had flown, with Amelia trailing closely by his side. The bag he had slung over his shoulder was already quite heavy with just the easel and pad of paper in it, and the size was so cumbersome that it was difficult to move quickly or gracefully in. He couldn’t imagine what it was going to be like with the heavy sword as well.

Before they reached the room, the poltergeist was already flying above them in the opposite direction, straight toward the Christmas tree.

“Hurry!” said Amelia.

As they approached the room, Arthur double checked from the outside before stepping in. He could clearly see the bunched-up black t-shirt fully covering the camera in the corner, and he let out a sigh of relief. Amelia looked nervously behind them. “Let’s go ahead and go in so you aren’t seen by anyone just lingering here,” she said, moving into the room herself. He followed her, so grateful that he wasn’t doing it himself.

Before him, at a little above eye level was the sword. It looked so innocent, so old and worn, so non-threatening on the wall. It was amazing to think that this sword was the most powerful, the most important, sword in the world. It wore its age well — the perfect disguise. Arthur wondered what it would feel like to touch it. He wondered if he would be able to feel the energy and magic.

Amelia was biting her nails. She jumped as she heard a big clatter from outside. She peaked her head outside the door.

“He started! The tree is shaking!” She said

Arthur heard a high pitched alarm go off. Then another, then another.

“He’s throwing the ornaments, quick!”

Arthur had already moved toward the sword. He took a deep breath and crossed the threshold over the white line on the floor. A high pitched, very loud and very obnoxious alarm started ringing in the room and a red light began to flash in the corner. Panic hit him as he launched his body forward and clutched the sword on the wall. It felt very cold on his hands. As he lifted it off of its hooks, he felt the heaviness of the sword, but something within him, panic or bravery, made him feel stronger, and he knew he could handle the weight.

He stepped back and slipped it into the bag next to the folded up easel. Just as he suspected, it fit easily, right next to the easel, hidden beneath the top of the canvas bag.

“Let’s go!” Amelia said and Arthur ran out the door. Just at that moment, guests were moving in their direction, yet staring back at the tree and talking wildly.

“Follow me. Do what I do exactly!” She said, and they headed toward the small bathrooms on the other side of the exhibit, which were so inconspicuous that they almost blended in with the wall. On one side of them was a metal door that led to a stairwell. Arthur knew, from what Amelia had told him, that this door was for employees only. Arthur followed her as she flattened herself against the wall by the bathrooms, then she indicated that he should open the metal door. He did so, and they both slipped in through the crack.

The stairwell was empty, and they ran as fast as they could to the next floor. They could hear the sound of staff members above them talking in panicked tones, and pounding down the stairs at a quick speed. Just before their paths would meet, Arthur and Amelia had slipped out of the next door and made it into the floor above. At this point, they were completely out of Arthur’s usual territory. He was never allowed to go upstairs without his mom.

Amelia was taking deep breaths and he decided to do the same. Somehow, when they were running, he hadn’t noticed how heavy the sword was until the moment they paused. He also didn’t realize how out of breath he was.

“Okay, so if someone were to watch the cameras down there, they would assume that you just went into the bathroom. It’s of the utmost importance that a camera does not catch you up here, do you understand?” Amelia panted.

“Yes!” Arthur gasped a whisper out.

“Okay stay right behind me,” Amelia said. Luckily, she had told Arthur that she took this path almost every day to avoid cameras, before the museum opened, and she knew it really well. Arthur would have taken comfort in the fact that she never got caught, but in reality he suspected that she would have never shown up on the cameras to begin with.

They took many interesting paths, sticking to the edges of some walls, hiding behind certain pieces of furniture, and sometimes even crawling on the floor. Arthur ended up dragging the bag with the sword along the floor in some cases, which helped give his shoulder a break.

Upstairs, the staff members were not in their usual locations. Usually there was one posted in every room, but Arthur suspected they were downstairs dealing with the commotion. This was an added bonus to their plan and Arthur hoped that Sir Foolish was still going, although either way there would most definitely be a mess to clean up and a lot of confusion to sort through.

Finally, some large and magnificent-looking bedrooms came into view. Arthur recognized them from Amelia’s description, but seeing them in person gave him a sense of awe. She really was living like royalty, just as she said!

Claudette was in view at that moment, towering glamorously at the end of the hallway, yet almost blending in with the wallpaper. She gave them a nod and a smile. Sir Philip had asked her to keep watch upstairs, and let them know if anyone was around before they actually hid the sword.

Amelia moved very quickly along the wall, under the velvet rope, and into the room with the bed. Arthur had a difficult time keeping up, but had been able to stay very close behind her. She had done this way more than him, and she also didn’t have a giant bag with an easel and a sword to lug around.

“Quick!” she said, “Just put it flat under the covers.”

Arthur pulled back the covers, which were very silky and very plush. The height of the bed was much taller than any bed he had ever seen, and it took a lot of strength to get the sword up onto it. He laid the sword down straight, and then pulled the covers back over it.

“Make sure it’s made super tightly,” she said as he smoothed out any wrinkles, “Perfect.”

Claudette was hanging around in the back, smiling proudly: “You all have done well!”

Arthur stared at the covers, with no sign at all of what lay beneath.

Amelia was back on the other side of the velvet rope, and Arthur followed. A sense of relief flooded through him as the sword was no longer in his possession. “We aren’t done yet, we still need to make it back!” she reminded him.

Amelia and Arthur took the exact same path back, and Arthur felt more confident with less weight on him and taking a path he now somewhat knew. A sense of relief rushed over him as they made it through the riskiest spot: the stairs. Right before they exited the final door, Amelia looked through the window on her tiptoes. “Let’s just wait a second while I make sure that no one will spot you.” she said and took a pause, “Okay, go!”

Arthur slipped through the heavy metal door and immediately went into the men’s bathroom. Amelia followed him. “This is important because your mom needs to think you’ve been hiding in here the whole time, got it?” Arthur nodded and she continued, “I’ll go out there, watch for your mom, and call to you when she’s in view so you can come out, okay?” She headed out the door to the commotion outside.

They had done it. This was the end, and Arthur already felt a wave of excitement come over him. It was a success – it had to be.