The Curse of the Lion's Heart

by Angella Graff

  Chapter Ten

  Jack and the Museum

  Truthfully, my first week of middle school wasn’t as bad as I had thought it was going to be. Even with the episode of talking to myself and making enemies with one of the most popular girls in my grade, most of the kids just didn’t care about anyone’s personal business. It might not have been real grown-up stuff, but it felt like it. We heard words like AP classes and University prep, and even a few teachers said we needed to start thinking about our college major now.

  It was easy to forget that it was still just my first week, that I was the weirdo who could see ghosts, and that my new friend and possibly one of the coolest boys I’d ever met, was also likely a thief with a cursed locket that could destroy the world. I was feeling mature and ready for the world, even if I had this crazy ghost, private eye problem.

  By the time Friday’s final bell rang, I realized I hadn’t seen Jack once during the day. Normally he was always there, at least by my locker, or skating down the hallways, but there hadn’t been a sign of him at all. I had to wonder if he’d overheard something I’d said to Penelope, or if he figured out I was on to him. I was nervous about it, so I mentioned it to Penelope as we walked out the front doors. “I mean, have you seen him today?” I asked.

  “Now that you mention it, I didn’t,” she said with a shrug. “I mean, I guess I got so caught up with all of the stuff our teachers made us do I kind of forgot to look for him, though.” She scratched the back of her head, but then suddenly grabbed my arm and pointed straight ahead. “Hey look!” I followed her finger as she said, “There he is!” and she was right. I barely caught a glimpse of him as he hopped on his skateboard and tore around the corner, heading for downtown.

  I frowned at her. “Suspicious much? I mean, he usually says hi to us at least.”

  “Very suspicious,” she said. “I’m not sure if I should let you meet him at your dad’s office alone. What if he’s on to you and tries to do something about it?”

  I didn’t feel like Jack was an actual threat to me, but I did feel a little nervous about him knowing what Penelope and I suspected. If he was a thief, there was no telling what he could be capable of, and I didn’t like that idea at all. Thieves were criminals, and maybe some of them were just into stealing stuff, but the truth was, neither Penelope nor I knew Jack very well. Still, I didn’t want to raise the alarm just yet. Not until I had some actual answers or evidence against him.

  “I’ll probably be alright, but maybe it’s a good idea for you to come over tomorrow and hang out with us anyway. You know, safety in numbers and all that. Do you think your mom will let you?”

  “She’s probably got a million papers to grade, so I bet she will,” Penelope said. “She likes me out of the house when she’s that busy.”

  I hoisted my backpack higher on my shoulder and said, “Okay, I’ll call you later tonight and you can let me know. Just ask her if she can drop you off at the museum tomorrow, and when I talk to Jack— if I talk to Jack— I’ll let him know you’re coming along, too.”

  “Sounds good,” she said, and as I headed down the steps, she turned to go meet her mom back in the school.

  The walk to my dad’s work felt even shorter this time, as I made the trek around the corner, through the busy downtown streets. I kept my eyes focused ahead of me, not making eye-contact with anyone, but just as I got to the doors to the museum, something caught my eye. It was a man, pretty young, but definitely older than me. He was dressed in all black, except for a grey beanie on top of his head, and he was staring at me. I looked around to see if anyone else was nearby, but I was alone. There was something off about him, something different. He wasn’t a ghost, I could tell that much, but he was super creepy. He was too far away to make out any real details about his face, but something was strikingly familiar about him.

  Feeling a shiver race up my spine, I grabbed the door and went inside. With a last glance out the window to see him still standing there, I rushed past the security station, which was currently empty, and straight to the staff elevator. The ride to my dad’s floor calmed me just a little, and I paused by the window at the end of the hall that overlooked the front of the museum. The side-walk was busy with people finishing up their day, and from what I could see, the strange man had gone.

  Shaking my head, I went into my dad’s office. It was empty but there was a short, scribbled note on the keyboard. ‘Emergency in the basement, be out soon. –Dad’

  I threw my bag onto the floor and fired up the computer. I couldn’t think about homework right then, or even research. The image of that strange, creepy dude kept popping up in my head so I took my aggression out on some zombies in my game. I was so lost in maiming the creatures of the night that I nearly jumped out of my skin when my dad’s desk phone rang.

  I grabbed it, assuming it was my dad, but was surprised to hear another voice on the line. “Still up to give me a tour, are you?” I recognized the accent immediately and I felt a mixture of excitement and fear. “Amos said I could ring you. Want to come down?”

  I hesitated a little. My dad still wasn’t back, but if we didn’t leave the building I suppose I didn’t need to ask for permission. Besides, this was a great excuse to do a little snooping in the museum, see if I could dredge up anything on Ainsworth. Jack might have still been our number one suspect, but I couldn’t use that as an excuse not to check around. “Sure,” I finally said. “Be right down.” I grabbed a pen and added to my dad’s note. ‘Went to show a friend around, be up soon. Have my phone. –X’

  I left my bag but grabbed my phone and elevator key before heading down. When I reached the ground floor, I could see Amos chatting to Jack and they were both smiling. Amos waved a little to me as I approached and said, “Hey X. Survived your first week?”

  “Barely,” I said with a grin. “You don’t mind if we walk around, right?”

  “You know the rules,” he said with a wink. Amos trusted me, so he never questioned my judgment. I thought for a moment that was a mistake, because honestly, I was questioning my own right then. I suspected Jack of being a world-renowned thief, and here I was taking him into a museum of priceless artifacts.

  But something about Jack made me wonder if I was on the right track, even with everything I knew about him and his possible family line. There was something about his face, something honest and different. I knew to be a thief they probably had to be cunning and sly, but something was telling me he wasn’t like that. Even so, I still had to keep my guard up.

  I led the way to the main room where there were hundreds of cases containing pieces of cave art from human’s earliest ancestors. “This used to be my favorite room as a kid,” I said.

  Jack looked around with a small smile. “It’s cool. And hey, you never told me your nickname was X.”

  “Only Amos and my dad ever call me that,” I said with a shrug.

  “I think it’s neat,” he replied, and I blushed again. It was becoming a bad habit, this blushing, and I hated it. I hurried him into the next room which had a set of stairs that led up to the Egyptian wing. Now that place was my absolute favorite.

  “Okay,” I said once we’d reached the top of the steps. “I don’t share this room with everyone because it’s sort of… my secret spot,” I said, not sure why I was telling him all of this. I pushed open the heavy wooden door and led the way into the massive warehouse-like room with echoing walls and cases full of artifacts. In the very back, on a tall pedestal behind massive glass, sat a sarcophagus with a mummy inside. It wasn’t a famous mummy at all. It was a woman they’d found buried in a tomb near the bank of the Nile. She had been wealthy, but not royalty. Nothing special, my dad always said, but I think that’s what I loved about her. She was just a person. Someone like me. Someone who lived and average life and died, and now she sat here forever for people to stare at.

  “Amazing,” Jack breathed, interrupting my thoughts. “Now this is truly fantastic.”

  I smiled, excited tha
t someone seemed to like this place as much as I did. “When I was eight, my dad took me in the back room where they keep all the stuff they don’t display,” I said softly. I reached up and pulled the necklace out from under the collar of my shirt and displayed the ring there. It was green, soapstone, or so my dad told me. There were still bits of gold flecks on the top from where it had once been painted bright gold and decorated.

  “Is that an ouroboros?” he asked with wide eyes.

  I was surprised he knew that name. Not many people my age knew the snake eating its tail was called an ouroboros. “Yeah,” I said. “This isn’t anything special. I mean, it’s not worth anything you know, but it’s over three thousand years old. They found it in a collection of items brought to the museum. There were three hundred of them in this box, so my dad let me have one. It used to be painted bright gold. It’s probably the most important thing I own.” Again, I wasn’t sure why I was telling him all of this. Here I was, half-convinced he was a thief, and now I was telling him all about my priceless necklace? I felt partly stupid and partly brave, because a tiny piece of me trusted him.

  He was standing in front of me, staring at the necklace, but the only thing I could see in his eyes was wonder. He stepped back, gave a little cough and then smiled at me. “Way cool.”

  The next room was the room I’d been itching to get my hands on. This room encompassed most of European History up until the modern times. It had a large display area for France, Germany, Spain, and Italy, but the biggest part was dedicated to England. The room curved, a partition open on the wall which led to a separate area holding a lot of artifacts from the medieval times. That wasn’t what I was looking for, though, but Jack seemed drawn to that area.

  “Oh man, they have an iron maiden in here,” Jack breathed.

  I followed up behind him and stared at the large, ancient torture device behind glass. My stomach squirmed uncomfortably at the thought that people had actually been put into that thing and tortured. My face went pale and I gave a shiver. “Not really my thing.”

  Jack laughed and nudged me with his elbow. “Not your thing? Aren’t you all about monsters and zombies?”

  Pulling a face, I crossed my arms and still refused to look at the massive iron contraption. “Yeah but those are all fake things. This is… this is real and totally gross.” Despite my love of all things horror, the idea of real torture had always bothered me. My dad being a history freak had given me and my sister in-depth lessons on things like the Spanish Inquisition and different types of punishments from all throughout history. Trust me, real history was way more nightmare inducing than anything I watched on TV. What bothered me, though, was how much Jack seemed to be enjoying my discomfort.

  Laughing, he nudged me again and we walked into the other room. “I think it’s cool. Gross, but cool. People back then were mad.”

  “People are still nuts,” I muttered, but he didn’t seem to hear me as he went through the room.

  Being able to sneak away from him for a few minutes, I scoured the cases, wall paintings and documents behind the glass. After a little while, though, I turned up zilch and Jack was getting bored. The only other option I had was storage, but I was pretty hesitant on that idea. The storage and staging room were things just laying around, and I couldn’t be sure taking Jack, the potential thief, into that room was such a great idea. Still, what choice did I have? It didn’t look like I’d be getting rid of him any time soon.

  We still had more rooms to check out though, so I had some time to make up my mind. I took Jack out of the European history wing and finished the tour. The top floor was the art room, different pieces throughout history, nothing modern, since my dad insisted this be kept as a history museum. I checked my phone before we got to the elevator but my dad still hadn’t sent me a message.

  “I don’t think they’ll mind if I take you into the storage,” I said. “This would be our final stop.”

  “Sounds fantastic,” Jack said with a wide grin.

  Yeah, I bet it does, I thought to myself, but didn’t say anything out loud. Honestly, Jack seemed like a typical kid. He wasn’t behaving suspiciously, and he seemed genuinely interested in the museum. I couldn’t let that put me off, though. This would be the ultimate test whether or not Jack was really up to something. Being put in a room with piles of priceless artifacts just laying around would be way too much for any thief to resist. I was sure of it.

  When we stopped by the elevators, though, Jack hesitated for the first time. “We can’t take the stairs?”

  I shrugged. “This is much faster, trust me. Besides, it’s a secure floor and my dad’s boss gets super cranky if he seem me messing around in the stairwell.” That was totally true. Mr. Barnes had yelled at me more than once for skipping the elevators. He even gave my dad this super harsh memo about how the stairwells were to be used in the case of fire or other emergencies, and he’d have to write him up if he caught me playing around in there again. “It’s not a problem, is it?”

  Jack gulped but shook his head, giving me a strained smile. “Nah, it’s fine. Go on, really.”

  With a smile, I swiped the card and the elevator doors opened. We stepped in and I punched the button to head down four floors.

  “It’s just, I’ve never been fond of lifts,” he said once the doors had shut. He was pale and a little shaky, which surprised me. “I don’t like confined spaces.”

  “I think that’s pretty normal,” I said with a shrug. “I mean, I’ve never had an issue, but then again I grew up here with my dad in his tiny office and those tiny storage rooms. I guess I’m just used to it.” I smiled at him reassuringly. “But it’s a short ride, see.” I smiled as a second later, the elevator halted and the doors swished open. Jack all-but shoved me out of the way to get out, but by the time we got to the storage room, he was calm and composed again.

  As usual, the storage area was colder than the rest of the museum, since most of the stuff wasn’t kept under protective glass and the temperature had to be controlled to prevent decay. We went past the room that had all the books, and I explained the airlock and preservation techniques. He ended up being most interested in the long table full of boxes with ancient Roman and ancient Greek artifacts. Most of them were just busts, and some painted pots and old stone figures, stuff I was never really interested in. But he took everything in, touching things gingerly with wide, wondering eyes.

  “I think this makes you officially my coolest friend,” he said once he got done examining a bust of Julius Caesar. “This is just fantastic,” he waved his hand in the air around the tables. “I mean seriously cool.”

  I looked down, a little embarrassed by the praise. I’d never been cool before, and certainly never considered cool by a kid like Jack. “Uh well really, it’s not all that great. I usually get made fun of for liking all this history stuff. But… I’m glad you like it.”

  I was able to break away from Jack once he became interested in some old book and I started to rummage through the boxes. Though it looked like the place was one big mess of junk laying around, it actually did have some order to it. Nothing was labeled, but I’d been in the room helping my dad sort more times than I could count. There was a back shelf full of boxes that were full of stuff from around 1400 to 1600 in Europe. Nothing as organized as the museum floor, but it was a place to start.

  The only problem, however, was I didn’t know what I was looking for, exactly. I mean, aside from some note or something saying, “The person who took my locket is…” I was out of luck. Even if I did dig up information on the Ainsworth family, it wasn’t likely to tell me anything. Unless, I realized, there was some sort of family tree, or document saying where the family had ended up.

  Now with a place to start, I began to tackle the boxes of old documents. Jack eventually got fed up with the book and came up, watching me dig around furiously. “D’you want some help?”

  I jumped, startled by his voice, and blushed as I looked up. “Um… I uh…” How cou
ld I tell him what I was looking for? After what I’d found on the web, there was a good chance if I mentioned the name Ainsworth, he’d know I was on to him. And then what? What if he was some crazy, evil thief? Could he possibly be the type of person who could hurt me to protect himself? “No I’m just looking around. You know, nothing important. Why don’t you check out some stuff from Ancient Rome?” I gave him my most winning smile, but he wasn’t buying it.

  “Seen it, great stuff. Now seriously, what are you looking for?” His arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes narrow, which would have been more intimidating if he hadn’t had a smudge of dust across his left cheek.

  Before I could come up with an answer, though, the door to the storage banged open and a furious Milton Barnes stormed in. His face was red and his breathing was heavy. “What on earth are you doing in here, Miss Fry?”

  I nearly dropped the box I was holding in surprise, and felt my face go white. “I um… er…”

  “Alexanda was just giving me a tour,” Jack stepped in, smiling smoothly. “With permission, of course.”

  “Permission from whom?” Mr. Barnes hissed.

  “That friendly bloke downstairs, the security man,” Jack said, and I quickly kicked him in the shin to shut him up. The last thing I needed was for Amos to get in trouble because of me. “Er I mean, her… dad?” he tried again, giving me a desperate look.

  Mr. Barnes took another step toward jack, his small eyes sizing him up. “Have you been here before? What’s your name?”

  “Jack Collins,” he replied, now looking a little concerned. “And no, this is my first ever time. I go to school with Alex.”

  Milton stared at Jack hard, and for a moment, he almost looked concerned. Then, shaking his head, he looked over at me and the box I was holding. “What on earth are you doing with that?”