“Today, we don’t have any commitments.” Mom dodged a wild swing of Lulu’s arm, narrowly missing spilling her pitcher of orange juice. “So, we can explore the city. I thought we could take a double-decker bus to see some of the most important and famous sights, and then we can ride in a boat to see the Statue of Liberty.”
“A boat?” Mia asked.
“The statue faces out toward the ocean, so the best way to get to her is by boat.” Dad handed a tray to Mia and Maddie. “Then the boat will take us right up to Liberty Island, where we can get out and see the statue up close.”
“Can we also see the Metropolitan Museum of Art today?” Mia asked.
“I was thinking we should go tomorrow,” Mom said.
“That’s good, because we still need to make up our scavenger hunt,” Maddie said. “We’ve barely had time to read From the Mixed-Up Files with Miss Julia.”
“True, we haven’t even made it to the part that takes place in the museum,” Mia said. “But it won’t spoil the book to look for the places even if you haven’t read about them yet.”
“Lulu, come have some breakfast,” Dad said, setting her tray on the rollaway bed.
Mia realized that Lulu was now dancing with the snow globe in her hand, shaking the snow with each cha-cha-cha. “Lulu! Put that down!”
“I wasn’t going to break it,” Lulu said defensively.
“Mia and Lulu,” Mom warned.
Mia knew she shouldn’t have snapped—but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. The snow globe was supposed to be safe in Mom’s drawer. Look how easily Lulu had gotten it and started messing around with it.
“We know you wouldn’t ever mean to break it,” Maddie said, using the calm voice she often did when she tried to avoid a fight between her sisters. “But we also know that accidents happen all the time, and we don’t want the special snow globe smashed or anything,” she tried to explain.
Lulu set the snow globe down on the bedside table with a little thump. “I don’t break things!”
Mia flinched, halfway expecting to hear the shatter of glass.
“How about we start the morning over again?” Dad said. “Lulu, why don’t you climb back into bed and we can start with breakfast in bed.”
“Okay,” Lulu mumbled, climbing back into bed.
Mom took the snow globe back to her room to put it away in the drawer. Even though pancakes were one of Lulu’s favorites—especially drowned in maple syrup—Lulu only picked at her food. Mia felt bad for having snapped at her, but if Lulu broke the snow globe, there wouldn’t be any un-breaking it. Especially since it was one of a kind. Lulu traded her fork for the remote and clicked on the television. She started flipping through channels.
“I don’t think we need to watch—” Mom began.
“Wait, go back!” Maddie said. “It’s about the Snow Angel!”
“Can we just watch this?” Mia asked. “In case there are clues?”
Mom shook her head at Dad, but didn’t say no.
“Turn it up please, Lulu!” Mia said, leaning forward to listen.
A map of New York, much like the one the girls had labeled, lit up the wall behind the anchorwoman. She pointed out various sites where gifts had been left, reminding everyone of the wide range the Snow Angel had covered.
“Gifts have been given to the old, the young, and everyone in between. The Snow Angel doesn’t only choose the homeless or the very poor as recipients, but also others who may be overlooked for one reason or another. Every gift has a story. Every recipient has a need. And the question remains . . . how can the Snow Angel possibly know each of these people, their needs, and their stories?”
The anchorwoman gestured to the map. “We’ve had another gift today. It was a pair of thick wool socks, left next to the first stop of the Red Line tour bus, along with the signature snowflake. The card was addressed to Ruthie, one of the tour guides, with the note: “For your cold toes on windy days.”
The cameras cut to Ruthie and the on-the-spot reporter. “Why do you think the Snow Angel left you socks?”
“Well, on cold days, I often forget my extra pair. Wind whips up that stairwell on the tour bus and freezes my toes.”
The reporter’s eyes lit up. “Which day did you forget your socks? Did you mention your cold feet on one of your recent tours?”
Ruthie laughed. “Just about every other day, sweetheart.”
Disappointment flashed across the reporter’s face. Mia knew she’d hoped that somehow the new gift might lead to a clue—any clue—about who the Snow Angel might be.
“Wait!” Mia jumped off the bed, excited by a sudden idea. “That tour bus, couldn’t we try to take it? We could meet Ruthie and ask her questions. We could finally find our first clue!”
“Wait, Mia . . .” Maddie bit her lip, worried. “Remember what happened at the library? Won’t Ruthie just say that she has no idea, like Diane did?”
“But what if she says something about a family with two parents and two little girls?” Mia asked. “Then, it would be a pattern.”
“The Snow Angel isn’t two parents and two girls,” Lulu said. “It can’t be.”
“It could be anyone,” Mia said. “All I’m saying is that the more people we talk to who received gifts from the Snow Angel, the better. Even if they didn’t know they saw anything special, we know the Snow Angel must have been close to them at some point. Maybe when we compare what they say, something will come clear.”
Maddie raised an eyebrow. “Like maybe Ruthie the tour guide saw someone famous on her tour.”
“Right,” Mia said. “Then, we could go back and ask Diane if she’d seen that same person.”
“Or at least someone in sunglasses!” Lulu said, up on her feet, bouncing on the bed, now swept up in this idea.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Dad said, holding up his hands. “Girls, there are at least three different bus tour companies in the city, and each company has more than one bus. How could we possibly be sure we got onto Ruthie’s tour?”
“Oh,” Mia said, feeling the excitement dissolve out of her.
“Well, maybe we could find her,” Lulu said, “if I wear my rearview glasses.”
Mia had to smile. “Maybe that will work, Lulu.”
“I think the bus on the news was red,” Maddie said. “Like the buses in London. And I am sure buses from other companies are different colors, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, I think so,” Dad slowly answered.
“Well, at least we can look for a red bus,” Maddie said. “And we can even ask if the people on the bus know Ruthie. Maybe it isn’t as hard as it seems.”
“As long as you understand we’re not promising to traipse all over the city looking for one specific tour guide,” Dad said. “After all, we have a whole city to see!”
“Can we go now?” Mia asked.
Mom looked over their plates. “Two more bites, and then we’ll get ready.”
Mia took her two bites, and then scrambled out of bed to choose clothes. She had a good feeling about today. Maybe today would be the day they’d finally find a clue.
SIXTEEN
Dad checked with the concierge at the hotel and confirmed that tour buses usually took off from Times Square.
“Just head on up 42nd a few blocks, and you can catch a bus there.” The concierge handed Dad a map.
“Look!” Maddie said, pointing out the photo of the bus on their map. “It’s a red bus!”
Mia nodded, hopeful. Just because they hadn’t found any clues so far didn’t mean they wouldn’t today.
Miss Julia passed out hats, gloves, and scarves, and everyone bundled up before heading out. Miss Julia had even tucked a couple blankets in her oversized bag, just in case they needed extra warmth on the bus and boat rides. Outside, it was snowing a little more steadily than it had yesterday. Lulu made a game of holding out her tongue, trying to catch snowflakes in her mouth. There wasn’t enough snow to gather on the ground, but a light ghosting of flakes skittered here and
there across the sidewalk. Soon, they made their way to Times Square.
“Do you think it’s too cold for a bus tour?” Mom wondered aloud.
“Maybe we should bring some hot chocolate along,” Dad suggested.
Mia could see him starting to scheme. “You mean coffee?” she teased Dad a little.
“Well, if the hot chocolate shop happened to have coffee, I wouldn’t complain,” Dad said.
So, Miss Julia looked up the best coffee shops within walking distance. Fortunately, there was one with five stars just down the block. So the Glimmers walked down the street to the shop and ordered warm drinks for everyone. Mia liked the way the warmth from the liquid radiated from her cup, warming her fingers inside her gloves. Soon, they were back on the street, looking for the red tour bus.
“Over there!” Maddie said, spotting one.
They crossed the street and found the man selling tickets underneath the tour bus sign.
“Which tour is Ruthie’s?” Lulu asked.
The man laughed, pulling out his envelope of tickets and counting out six tickets for them. “She’s a popular one today. But, I’m sure there’s room on her tour if you’re willing to wait. She’s up next . . . The bus should be here in about twenty minutes.”
“We might need more coffee, then,” Dad said.
“Dad!” the girls said, all groaning a little.
“Let’s poke inside a few shops,” Mom said. “To keep warm until it’s time to go.”
After Dad paid for the tickets, the family wandered in and out of a few clothing stores. Finally, a red bus pulled up.
“Come on, come on!” Lulu urged.
In the end, there was plenty of room for the Glimmers and Miss Julia, especially because they wanted to sit in the top section of the bus. They introduced themselves to Ruthie, and then chose seats at the front of the bus. Ruthie stood in the stairwell, a few rows back, but it was easy to turn around and see her. As passengers boarded, Ruthie greeted each one. Mia could see why the Snow Angel had liked Ruthie. Like Diane from the library, Ruthie was energetic and welcoming, the kind of person who made you feel like a friend the minute you met her.
“We can see everything from here!” Mia said.
“And everyone,” Lulu stage whispered, putting on her rearview glasses. Now she could watch Ruthie without turning around.
“And everyone,” Mia agreed.
“You should wear the headphones,” Ruthie said to the Glimmers, motioning to the cords plugged into the bus wall. “Makes it easier to hear me when we start driving.”
There were three sets of headphones per seat, with cords long enough to reach the headphone jack in the wall even if you sat in the aisle seat. The girls worked on untangling their cords and plugging in, and then Miss Julia passed out blankets so everyone could cover their legs. The bus had heaters in the floor too, so the warm air rose and kept the worst of the wind from chilling Mia’s cheeks.
“Did you wear your Snow Angel socks today?” Lulu asked Ruthie.
“I did,” Ruthie said, beaming. “You wouldn’t believe what a difference wool socks make when you’re standing here in the stairwell and the wind is whipping up past your toes.”
“Are you sure you don’t have any idea who gave the socks to you?” Mia asked. “Doesn’t any passenger stand out? Maybe someone asked you lots of questions, or mentioned your socks a lot?”
“You mean someone other than you girls?” Ruthie waved her comment away. “Nah. I’m just teasing. No one suspicious stands out to me. Like I told the reporters, whoever the Snow Angel is, she is sneaky. I notice just about everything, and I didn’t notice a thing about her.”
“So you think the Angel is a woman?” Mia asked, noticing that Ruthie had said “she.”
“Well, I don’t know for sure.” Ruthie shrugged. “Seems like a thing a woman would do, but who knows, really.”
The bus engine fired up and they began to rumble forward. Sitting on top of the bus reminded Mia of being in London, though this bus felt much different than London’s double-deckers.
Ruthie pointed out the sights as they navigated the crowded streets. They passed the Empire State Building, Greenwich Village, and headed toward the Brooklyn Bridge. Miss Julia snapped photos of the sites and of the girls and their parents. Lulu clowned for the camera, but not as much as she normally would. She kept messing with the things in her backpack. Probably trying to use the kit and be a detective, Mia thought.
“Should we ask Ruthie anything else?” Mia asked Maddie.
“I don’t know what to ask,” Maddie said. “But I don’t think we should give up.”
“I agree.” Mia tapped her fingers on the blanket, thinking over everything Ruthie had said so far. Ruthie seemed to know every bit of the city’s history. The next time Ruthie paused in her tour narration, Mia slipped out of her warm seat and moved closer.
“You know a lot about the history of New York,” Mia said.
“True,” Ruthie said, turning her bright smile on Mia.
“Has there ever been another campaign like the Snow Angel one? Where someone gave secret gifts across the city?”
“Nothing quite like it,” Ruthie said. “There have been public acts of kindness campaigns, like the Give a Hug campaign. Or the one that Mark Malkoff—he’s a local comedian and filmmaker—did, but I can’t think of a secret gift-giver. And keeping a secret in New York for this long . . . well, it’s not easy to do. At least, with so many people watching.”
“Do you think the Snow Angel rode this bus?”
“Must have,” Ruthie said, shaking her head.
“You didn’t see a family with two girls who asked a lot of questions, did you?” Mia asked.
Ruthie frowned. “Well, I’ve talked to a lot of families, and many do have two girls, but . . . no. I wouldn’t say there were any that stood out. What makes you so curious about the Snow Angel?” She addressed the question to Maddie and Lulu, who had now moved closer to join the conversation.
“We thought we could solve the mystery of who the Snow Angel really is,” Maddie said. “We thought it would be fun to figure it out while we’re visiting New York.”
“Well, don’t forget some of the fun is in the looking,” Ruthie said. “It’s not only about the solving.”
“True,” Mia said.
“Mmph.” Lulu returned to her seat and reached back into her bag. Clearly, she wanted to get back to her own looking, even if it meant peering over the side of the bus with a magnifying glass. Mia decided not to point out how useless this kind of looking was, for so many reasons.
“Thank you for your help,” Mia said to Ruthie.
“Any time,” Ruthie said, and then her eyes lit up.
“You know what I do have . . .” She pulled a paper snowflake out of her tour binder. “I’d like to give this to you girls, a souvenir of the city.”
“But, it’s your snowflake,” Mia said. “From the Snow Angel . . .”
“I’m quite content with my warm socks,” Ruthie said. “And I have a feeling you girls might make better use of this snowflake than I will.”
Mia cradled the snowflake in her hands. “Thank you!”
“Yes, thank you,” Maddie said.
“And . . .” Ruthie said with a flourish of her arm, “we’re here at Castle Clinton, where you can board the ferry out to the Statue of Liberty.”
“This is our stop,” Dad called.
“You can hop on any of our buses and ride uptown when you’re done,” Ruthie said. “On the way back, make sure to see One World Trade Center.”
Mia pressed the snowflake flat in the book she’d brought along. She knew they wouldn’t find any real clues on the snowflake—like fingerprints—but still. The Snow Angel had held this snowflake in her hands. And now it was here, in Mia’s own hands. It was a connection, even if it was only a small one, and it made her feel hopeful.
“Maybe we’ll find the Snow Angel after all,” Mia said to Maddie as they descended the steps back towa
rd the street.
Maddie grinned. “Maybe!”
SEVENTEEN
Castle Clinton wasn’t anything like a castle—it was more of a fortress. Inside the round walls, the sky opened up over their heads. The girls peeked through the gaps in the fortress wall to see out over New York Harbor. Soon, it was time to board their ferry. National Park rangers ran the castle and the ferry, so the ferry’s crew wore official park ranger gear. The uniforms, and especially the wide-brimmed hats, looked a little out of place on the ferry.
As they waited to board, Mia could see the Statue of Liberty far across the harbor. From this distance, it was difficult to make out any details beyond her recognizable shape. Good thing they were riding the ferry out to take a closer look. The ferry had two levels. Heat filled the enclosed lower level, so the Glimmer family and Miss Julia decided to stake out seats where they could see out the windows for now. The top deck looked cold. Most of the other passengers did the same, so by the time the ferry doors closed, the room was stuffed full of people.
The ferry’s engine rumbled to life, and they began to back away from the dock.
One of the rangers picked up the microphone. “We’re on our way to Liberty Island, where the Statue of Liberty has been welcoming travelers for more than 125 years. The Statue of Liberty was a gift from the people of France to honor the 100th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. In fact, when you take a closer look, you’ll see that Lady Liberty holds a tablet in her left hand. What you won’t be able to see from below is that her tablet is inscribed July 4, 1776.”
A man in one of the front rows raised a hand. “Wasn’t the Statue of Liberty designed by Eiffel? The same man who designed the Eiffel Tower?”
The ranger nodded, acknowledging the question. “Yes. Eiffel’s ingenious skeletal design allows Lady Liberty to move and sway in the wind. Otherwise, she’d crack from standing out in the elements in the harbor. The way things are now, we believe she can stand for another 1,000 years.”
The same man raised his hand again. “And didn’t the United States have to pay for the pedestal, even though the Statue of Liberty was a gift from France?”
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