Chapter 11 & 12 - The Child in the Museum

Chapter 11

Amelia watched the little boy talk to the short-haired lady worker. She had been keeping tabs on him all morning, as he entered the museum with his mom, and was escorted immediately to the kitchen, where he had been kept captive until now. She was confused, frustrated, and alone. Everyone was making such a big deal about Arthur misbehaving, but no one even noticed her for a second. Had she spent so long trying to make herself invisible that now she actually was? She sighed a huge sigh and twirled her hair.

“Excuse me, sir” she said to the old man she always noticed with his crossword puzzle, who was coming around from his second lap around the museum. “Do you know…the way to the entrance?” She asked, thinking quickly of an easy-enough question.

No response. He kept walking, slowly but intently.

Why had she put in so much energy into making sure no one questioned her before? No one cared, not in the slightest.

Amelia put her hands on her hips and looked back at the boy. This couldn’t be happening. Reality itself seemed like a thread-bare piece of fabric that wasn’t holding up, a piece of fabric that was a little too easy to see through. But what was she seeing on the other side? She was so uncertain.

Maybe this was a dream! The little boy made eye contact with her again, and it felt all too real. The problem was that, normally, if you realized you were dreaming, it would then feel quite obvious that you were dreaming.

This wasn’t like that. There was something fluttering within her, some sense of familiarity that she couldn’t quite trace. The only way she could describe it was something like déjà vu, the sense that you had had a thought or an experience before, but just as you tried to make sense of it, it was like water escaping through your fingers.

Amelia turned on her heels and decided to go into another area. She would look for Arthur later, and hopefully he wasn’t, from now on, always going to be surrounded by adults on all sides watching over him. She passed by a group of school children, waiting in line for a water fountain. Each of them had the same bright green nametag, probably to identify the group and make sure no one got separated. Oh, to belong somewhere. She wished they weren’t crowding the water fountain, as a nice cold splash on her face would probably do wonders for her. A couple of the children seemed to look at her curiously. More boldly than usual, she waved in their direction. The smallest girl with wispy blonde hair gave her a little wave back with a shy smile.

So, she wasn’t actually invisible.

With newfound vigor to come up with some answers, Amelia marched toward the hallway leading towards the upstairs exhibit of Chinese pottery. She was determined to go somewhere to get some peace of mind and think. She opened up a heavy glass door to a small, very quiet room, with only a few guests studying woodblock prints. She felt the shift of energy in the room, and walked more softly to the back of the exhibit, where there were beautiful folding screens with peaceful designs of blossoming trees. She sat down on a bench and took a couple deep breaths. A staff member was slouching in the back, texting on his phone. He didn’t look much older than 18. He didn’t even look up at her as she entered, and she wondered at his blatant phone-use, and whether it mattered to him at all that she was now there in the otherwise empty space. She turned her attention to the soft light glowing through the screens. 

She really should be grateful, she made herself admit. That could have been a horrible situation. She could have gotten in trouble for stealing, been taken who-knows-where, questioned – it could have been discovered that she was an orphan, and she wouldn’t be able to live in the museum. She wasn’t even sure what would have happened next, but the worst thing of all would be if they had to take her away from the museum. She couldn’t imagine life elsewhere.

But instead, she was granted perhaps the luckiest break she could imagine. Not only had she gotten off miraculously easily, but she was now convinced that she was much safer than she ever knew. Obviously, the museum staff were so caught up in themselves and their own issues that they completely overlook her, even when she would be blatantly talking to them or staring them in the face. The little boy was probably caught because they had befriended his mom and felt a certain amount of responsibility. That must be it.

Amelia sat up straighter as a thought hit her. Or, that particular guard, whom she had often seen around the museum, a seasoned worker, had somehow noticed her before. What if he was actually aware of her existence and her survival within the museum, and he decided to protect her. Maybe the only way he could do that would be to claim that he didn’t see her entirely! And that old man from earlier must simply be hard-of-hearing.

She felt her excitement at this revelation drain as she realized a couple things. That still didn’t explain the kitchen worker claiming he couldn’t see her as well. And more than that, if the security guard was wanting to cover his tracks, he could easily be seen on camera looking right in her direction and talking. Surely he knew that, and that would be near impossible to explain. Security cameras were always on her mind, after all.

Seemingly unrelated, Amelia’s annoyance with the phone-absorbed security guard rose up within her and she decided she needed to find another place to think. She remembered how much comfort she had gotten in front of a Mother Mary statue in the Medieval section in the past and, although it was quite a walk to get there, both the walk and the statue felt as if it would do her some good.

Chapter 12

Out of the whole museum, Arthur chose the Arms and Armor section to draw with his mom. He loved the idea of drawing the knights, and he was so pleased as they walked up to the space to see an incredible display of full-bodied suits of armor seated on artificial, but life-sized, horses. Among the figures of the display were also colorful banners and flags.

“Can we draw here?” Arthur asked his mom.

“Absolutely! Let’s set up shop here. This is magnificent. You’ll be happy to know that I packed some colors for you as well. Will this bench do?”

Arthur and his mom sat down on the bench as she handed him a sketchbook, just like hers but smaller. From her purse she pulled out a box of crayons and a charcoal stick wrapped in a paper towel. “You know this is super messy, so we’ll have to thoroughly wipe off your hands and go wash up in the restroom before touching anything in the museum, alright? Of course, you should never touch anything here, but now even railings, especially walls!”

“I understand!” Arthur felt as if his mom was being extra cautious, really trying to make sure that he wasn’t going to get in trouble again.

As they settled into the rhythm of drawing, Arthur knew he’d have time to think about what had transpired so far. There was no chance of him getting bored today, as he had a lot to figure out, and drawing was easy compared to the things on his mind. He looked up at the brightly colored banners with bold patterns on them hanging around the knights, and felt it would be easiest to start there. He looked at a blue and yellow banner, pulled out some matching crayons, and began.

He knew he had many years ahead of him to learn how to make his drawings look as real as the ones hanging in the museum, but sometimes he felt discouraged at the impossibility of truly capturing something on paper. He was, however, much better at drawing than other kids his age. Sometimes, he liked to just color whatever came to mind, without any pressure of making sense of it. He looked at the banner a few times, then eventually got lost in making rectangles and lines with his blue and yellow crayons. Time slipped away as he got engrossed with his drawing, until it suddenly hit him that he was supposed to be drawing something real, and looked up from the paper.

He saw the last thing he could have expected. Out of the suit of armor, stepped a sort of shadow of the figure. It was a man, a knight it seemed, wearing the same suit of armor that was still displayed and stationary, but he looked less solid. It was almost as if Arthur could see through him, but the shine of the armor itself bounced the light of the harsh museum spotlights back at Arthur, making it difficult to tell. Arthur was absolutely frozen – unsure why he wasn’t screaming, feeling a mix of fear and shock that he had never felt before. If his mom wasn’t right by his side, he would probably be running for his life, but he felt most safe next to her.

The man put his finger up to his lips as if to tell him to be quiet. Arthur didn’t want to take his eyes off of him, but noticed that his mom continued drawing next to him, in the same way she had been. Looking up, then looking back down. She must not be seeing anything.

“My name is Sir Philip. No need to be afraid. There’s a perfectly good explanation for everything you have been experiencing, and I just wanted to talk to you about it.”

Arthur looked frantically at his mom, and back at the knight before he could disappear. She hadn’t flinched.

“No one can hear me but you. Unless there are any other children around, but I don’t think there are. You see, children are more open to seeing the other realms, and adults have long lost the ability.” He paused.

“Do you mind if I come closer? I’m not harmful, and I couldn’t harm you even if I was. I just want to have a conversation. I realize you can’t respond right now without drawing attention, but I think I can just tell you what I intend to, you can listen and nod, and that should be fine for now.”

Arthur thought carefully. His mom was still there, and he knew at least intellectually that he was still safe. He nodded slowly. He realized he hadn’t taken a breath, so he took a couple shallow breaths to get the air moving in his system again and hopefully calm himself down. At least he didn’t have to speak.

Sir Philip kneeled in front of Arthur, making himself seem smaller, less threatening.

“I understand that you met a girl. I should start by explaining that I am a ghost. She is a ghost too, but the difference is, she doesn’t know it. She still appears and acts solid to those who can see her because of her belief in herself being a real, live, nine-year-old girl.”

Arthur’s eyes widened, locked on the ghost. He was seeing a ghost! And Amelia was...dead?

As if he had read Arthur’s mind, the knight said, “There is no reason to be sad, though. It has been over two hundred years since she lived, as far as I am aware. You see, she and I aren’t the only ghosts in this museum, and those of us who communicate with each other are very worried for her. We’ve wanted her to come to this realization for a long time, and we believe right now that she’s closer to it than she has ever been. Are you following me so far?”

Arthur nodded again, taking in every word.

“I’m going to run to the restroom!” Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard his mom’s bright, cheery voice. “I’ll be right back, be good, and the security guard is right over there if you need him.” She stood up, gave a little wave to the security guard, and kissed Arthur on the head. The knight was very quiet, patiently waiting, as Arthur’s mom whisked away, leaving behind her easel.

“I think you can help her understand. The little girl can’t see any of us like you can, because she is caught up in her own illusion. Did she tell you her name?”

Arthur realized it was possible for him to respond now. The security guard seemed far enough away that he wouldn’t notice over the general echo of the museum’s acoustics. “Amelia,” Arthur heard his own voice croak out.

“Ahhh.” Sir Philip looked thoughtful. “ I wonder what brought her here.”

He stood again and walked around, gesturing toward the displays surrounding them. “You see this museum is filled with many things. Important things, some more important than anyone could know. Some ghosts follow objects that were important to them in their life. They just can’t let themselves let go of this world, and the objects from their lives are familiar to them, a comfort.”

He returned and sat next to Arthur this time, on the bench. Arthur had never experienced anything quite like this. The bench made no movement, no vibration of any kind, from the knight sitting down. Arthur could tell that there was no weight to his form. He also could tell that there was no heat from his body. 

“I’m not like the others, though.” the knight said with pride, “I am only here because I have a mission to complete, and I am determined to complete it. But more on that another day! There is another ghost who is similar to me. He is an artist with a painting to complete, and it hangs here in the museum. He spends every day toiling over how to finish the painting, but he has no materials or ability to do so. He cannot let it go, you see. The veil thins around great art. Do you have any questions so far?”

“Who else can see Amelia?”

“Some other children can. It depends how open they still are. You begin to lose the ability around, I’d say, nine or so. The other ghosts can see her, but she can’t see us. She’s only talked to you so far.”

“She steals from the café, but they haven’t noticed…”

“She believes she is stealing and she sees the food and experiences eating as if she is alive, but in actuality she can’t affect the physical world around her. There are some ghosts who can, they are called poltergeists – there is one in the museum, actually – but you have to consciously decide to be one. Most ghosts do not have that ability.”

Arthur didn’t even know what other questions to ask. He had so many.

The knight looked over at his drawing. “This is my armor on display. But that, the blue and yellow design you are drawing, is not my crest. They put it next to my armor, but my crest actually more closely resembles the one on the far right. Red and gold!” he proclaimed, the sound of pride again in his voice.

“Listen, I believe your mom is going to come back very soon. I’m going to leave you when she comes, but you can come here and ask me questions anytime. You can bring Amelia too. If you can convince her that she is a ghost, she will be opened up to a whole new world of the museum. She will finally be able to see us and interact with us.”

“How can I tell her?”

“I’m not sure what the best way is. She must know that something isn’t right given what just happened. She has been in denial for a very long time, so I don’t expect it to be easy. But you are now her friend, her only friend I might add, and I’m sure you will find a way.”

“Alright…” Arthur said, feeling unsure of his actual abilities of convincing someone of something they didn’t want to believe, of something he didn’t even fully understand, or even to have a conversation of this magnitude at all.

“I came to you because I want to stress the importance of this. It is important for Amelia to know. You might be her only hope. This is the best opportunity she has ever been given. Call me poetic, but I believe in fate and I believe you are part of hers.”

Arthur’s mom came into view, walking straight to the spot where the knight was sitting. Arthur looked back at the knight, just to see him dissolve into nothingness. He blinked. His mom sat down, cheerfully talking to him about something, but he wasn’t listening.

He looked over back at the suit of armor, and could faintly see a shadow returning to the spot. He looked down at his drawing, and pulled out a red crayon. He dug around in the crayon box for a moment, and pulled out a dark yellow crayon, the closest to gold that he could find.