Nathaniel tapped her on the shoulder.
“Don’t dawdle,” he said. “Ms. Hydrangea is expecting you.”
He led them past the elevator and through a set of double doors. They entered a hallway that was much less fancy than the lobby. Years’ worth of scuffmarks covered the cement floor, and the walls were streaked with grime.
Every ten feet, wooden pallets lined the hallway. Each one had a dozen burlap bags piled on it.
“ ‘Candy corn,’ ” said Nipper, reading one of the bags as they passed.
“You sister wants to be ready for…the unicorns,” Nathaniel said dryly.
“I don’t think he believes in unicorns,” Nipper whispered to Samantha.
Nathaniel glared and led them down the long hall. At the end, they reached a cavernous space, cluttered with refrigerator-sized boxes and large wooden crates. Samantha counted a dozen black metal drums stacked three high.
“A vast…amount of material has arrived for your sister’s show,” said Nathaniel.
He pressed a button on the wall and machinery began to hum. He stood staring at the two kids as they waited.
Samantha looked at a nearby crate and read, “ ‘Bagpipes, fifteen count. Do not squeeze.’ ”
Nipper peered at the top of one of the metal drums.
“ ‘Glycerol,’ ” he read carefully. “ ‘Fifty-five gallons.’ ”
Nathaniel tapped the barrel.
“That’s fog-machine juice,” he said. “Horace Temple ordered it for the performance.”
“Horace?” said Samantha, getting excited. “Is he really gone?”
Nathaniel grunted but didn’t answer.
Samantha waited for him to say anything else about Horace. He fiddled with his gold chain for a moment. Then looked away.
“Glycerol,” Nipper repeated, looking at the barrel.
With a grinding squeal, the doors to the freight elevator slid open and Samantha inhaled the scent of grease and rubber. The elevator was crammed with tires, gears, and shiny metal tubing. There was barely enough room for her and Nipper.
“This is the only place to store the monster-truck parts,” said Nathaniel. “You’ll fit.”
Samantha and Nipper picked up their luggage. Samantha followed her brother into the elevator, squeezing between stacks of shiny hubcaps. She turned and looked back at Nathaniel.
“Why did Horace Temple order monster trucks, fog machines, and—”
“Apartment ahoy!” he shouted.
Nathaniel reached inside the elevator, pushed a button, and stepped back. The doors slammed closed, leaving the man on the other side, and the elevator lurched upward. Samantha looked at the long vertical panel with dozens of buttons. Nipper pointed to the glowing top button, labeled “PH.”
“Penthouse?” he asked.
Samantha nodded. Then she remembered her sunglasses. She took them from her purse, put them on, and studied the buttons as the elevator traveled up. The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. Buffy stood waiting with open arms.
“Oh…my…gosh!” she screamed. “Look at those hideous purple glasses!”
“I am passionate about the arts,” declared Buffy as she led Samantha and Nipper through the first level of her apartment. Paintings, posters, and glittering objects covered every inch of every wall. Samantha counted at least ten portraits of her older sister. She also noticed Buffy’s scarves, gloves, and shoes—size 9½—hanging as artwork.
To Samantha, it looked like a candy machine had exploded inside a jewelry store on a fashion runway.
“This is what the inside of Buffy’s brain looks like, too,” she whispered to Nipper.
He nodded.
Samantha was about to make another joke about her sister when she spotted a pair of boots leaning against a wall and stopped to examine them. They were huge, greenish-gray rubber waders. She waved to get Nipper’s attention and pointed with excitement.
“Maybe Morgan Bogan was telling the truth,” she said.
“What are you talking about?” asked Nipper.
Their neighbor Morgan Bogan Bogden-Loople was a boy who always said ridiculous things. Nobody ever believed him. When Uncle Paul first disappeared, Morgan Bogan said he saw her uncle Paul walking to a cello lesson wearing big rubber boots and carrying an inflatable raccoon on his shoulder. Samantha hadn’t believed him at all. It seemed preposterous. Now she wasn’t so sure.
“What are you two looking at?” asked Buffy, walking back to them.
She noticed Samantha staring at the boots.
“Oh, those hideous things,” said Buffy. “You’re surrounded by fabulous fashion, and all you care about are ugly rubber boots.”
She shook her head.
“They were Horace’s,” she added. “Before he disappeared.”
“That’s what I thought,” said Samantha. “What happened to Horace?”
“Enough with the boots!” Buffy shouted. “You’re here because I need you. There is a whole world of shoes upstairs. Follow me.”
Samantha growled softly and was about to argue, but her sister had already walked ahead down the long, accessory-lined hall.
They walked to the foot of an escalator. Beside it, a glass case was perched on a marble pedestal. The case was labeled “Hope Diamond.” Inside, a photograph of a blue gem rested on a tiny easel.
“I tried to buy that, but apparently it’s not for sale,” Buffy told them. “Nate says he knows a company that can make an exact copy. That’s probably a good idea because, well, I am almost out of money.”
“I’ve seen that gem before,” said Nipper, looking at Samantha.
Samantha nodded at him knowingly.
“Uh-huh,” said Buffy, uninterested. “Now come on.”
They rode the escalator up to the second level. It was a maze of hallways lined with gray metal doors. Samantha stopped following Buffy to read a sign on one of them.
JULY FOOTWEAR
The door looked very sturdy, like that of a bank vault. The painted metal had rivets that reminded Samantha of the Eiffel Tower. There was a keypad above the doorknob.
“My personal shoe rooms are here,” said Buffy. “Nate and I are the only two people who know the combinations.”
She banged on the door.
“Battleship-grade steel,” she said. “You can’t be too careful with fine footwear.”
“A room for each month?” Nipper whispered to Samantha. “For shoes?”
Samantha opened her mouth to answer, but her sister interrupted.
“Less talking. More walking!” Buffy barked, and waved for them to follow.
They turned a corner, where a massive roll of blue cloth blocked their path. Samantha noticed the words Seattle Fabric Center embroidered on the edge.
“It’s a flag,” Buffy told her. “The Federated States of Micronesia.”
“Micronesia?” asked Samantha. “Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” answered Buffy. “I asked Nate to find something that would make the building look fabulous. Light blue with white stars really makes the red of the bricks pop, you know.”
“What’s it doing in the hall?” asked Nipper.
Buffy sighed.
“When we hung it from the balcony, everyone from floor fifty-five down to floor ten started screaming,” she explained. “They said it blocked their windows or something.”
“Maybe they wanted to be able to see,” said Nipper.
“Maybe some people aren’t as interested in accessorizing as I am,” said Buffy.
Samantha made a mental note to ask Uncle Paul about Micronesia…when he wasn’t missing, of course.
Buffy and Nipper climbed over the giant rolled-up flag. Samantha waited, examining the fabric-store logo through her glasses as they climbed.
“Stop!”
Buffy shouted. “Keep those hideous things away from my flag!”
Samantha frowned at her sister.
Buffy double-triple super-frowned back at her.
Samantha shuddered and put the sunglasses away in her purse. Then she climbed over the big blue obstacle and followed her sister and brother up another escalator.
Buffy led them around the top floor of the apartment, through the main entrance, the formal dining area, and a dozen other rooms. Everywhere they went, she pointed out expensive and ridiculous details.
“It’s a shame we have to keep all these $167,000 rugs on the floor,” said Buffy.
Samantha looked down. Bright golden threads zigzagged through the fabric.
“But I suppose we don’t want to cover the twenty-four-karat-gold-plated ceiling,” Buffy added.
Samantha looked up. The ceiling was definitely shiny.
“If I have to walk all over someone—I mean, something—it might as well be expensive,” said Buffy, and she marched ahead of them through a set of glittering double doors.
Samantha looked back and saw Nipper fidgeting with a picture frame. Then he tapped on a sculpture. He had definitely reached the limit of his attention span. On a good day, he could stay interested in something for about ten minutes without getting distracted. Looking at shoes and scarves and portraits of Buffy did not count as “a good day.” The fidgeting, touching, and tampering had begun.
Samantha took out the purple glasses and was about to put them on again when Nathaniel entered the hallway, walking up behind Nipper.
“Loose fingertips sink ships,” he growled.
Nipper jumped and turned around quickly.
Smiling nervously at Nathaniel, he inched backward toward Samantha and stopped beside her.
“Let’s go see some more shoes, or art, or fashion thingamajigs,” he said.
Together, they walked through the double doors.
The living room…was actually amazing. Crystal vases perched on pedestals. Diamond chandeliers sparkled. A mahogany grand piano stood majestically. The ceiling was gold here, too. But none of this was what impressed Samantha. It was the view!
Tall windows stretched across three walls. Turning slowly, Samantha saw the towers of Wall Street all the way downtown, the entirety of Central Park, and completely up the West Side, north toward Harlem.
“Look,” she told Nipper, and pointed at a glowing white rectangle on the far side of the park. “That’s the Metropolitan Museum of Art.”
Somewhere close to it would be Cleopatra’s Needle.
“Eyes on me,” said Buffy. “I flew you here to be part of something very important.”
Samantha gritted her teeth. She didn’t care why Buffy had brought her there. She was here to look for Uncle Paul.
Samantha turned away from the windows. Nipper was hovering over the grand piano. He tapped on a key twice. Then he lifted the mahogany lid and reached inside. He plucked a few of the strings closest to him.
Buffy heard the sound and looked over. She clapped her hands loudly and glared. He let go of the piano lid and it dropped with a heavy thud. A loud B-flat minor chord reverberated through the room.
Buffy waited for the musical notes to fade. She made a sad face and sighed loudly. Tears began to well up in her eyes.
Samantha was not impressed.
“You look like a chinchilla,” she told her sister.
“I’m working so hard on my play,” Buffy blurted. “I moved to New York City because the world-famous Broadway producer Horace Temple was going to make me famous.”
Samantha nodded patiently and smiled. She waited for her sister to get to the point.
“He kept telling me over and over that I should be careful and stay away from sunlight, or something like that,” said Buffy.
“She means ‘Watch out for the SUN,’ right?” Nipper asked Samantha.
“Just let her talk,” Samantha replied.
“That’s right. Let me talk,” Buffy snapped.
She looked at Samantha.
“Somebody invited Charles von Bagelhouven, licensed theater critic, to come see a special performance of my play,” she continued. “That was when I told Horace that he had to change out of those hideous rubber boots.”
She started breathing heavily.
“And…?” said Samantha, waiting to hear more.
“He said…‘I’ll see you in June.’ And then he was gone!”
“June?” Samantha asked.
“Yes,” said Buffy. “I knew I had to go through with the exclusive one-night preview or…or—”
Nathaniel appeared.
“Did someone say…‘or’?” he asked.
“I was Horace-less,” said Buffy, ignoring Nathaniel. “There was no Horace at all.”
Samantha perked up, listening for any clue about the whereabouts of Uncle Paul.
“I almost gave up,” said her sister, wiping away a tear. “But then I remembered—I’m a fabulous star!”
Samantha’s heart sank. She was not going to get a clue about Uncle Paul.
“I had everything I needed to put on a Broadway show myself,” said Buffy.
“Three hundred and twenty-seven million dollars?” Nipper asked.
“I mean talent!” she answered. “I designed extremely realistic costumes and historically accurate sets. I created tasteful advertisements and hired the best-looking actors. I even designed a cave for all the mermaids and unicorns!”
She raised both arms as she shouted.
“Von Bagelhouven came to see my preview…and he wrote…this!”
She snapped her fingers at Nathaniel. He held up a silver tray with a single piece of paper.
“ ‘Once in a lifetime, a show appears that makes you say wow,’ ” Buffy read.
Samantha saw Buffy’s hands trembling.
“ ‘As in Wow! That was the worst thing I have ever seen!’ ” she wailed.
Samantha watched as her sister dropped the letter and put a hand up to her forehead dramatically. Then she made eye contact, blinked three times, and collapsed onto a $167,000 rug. “I think I’m dying,” Buffy sobbed into her hands. “Tell the unicorns I loved them.”
Samantha reached for the letter, but Nipper hopped forward and grabbed it first.
“Let me read,” Nipper said cheerfully and wiggled his eyebrows. “I love reading.”
“Really? Since when?” Samantha asked.
She was never going to sleep until this performance was over.
Nipper cleared his throat.
“ ‘From the first sour note to the final, confusing spoken word…,’ ” he began in a loud, dramatic voice. He held the page in one hand and waved the other. “ ‘What I saw left me shocked, shuddering, and speechless.’ ”
“He was shocked,” Buffy moaned with her face buried in her arm.
“Oh well,” said Samantha. “Maybe you don’t need to go through with this play at all. You can save your—”
Buffy sat up quickly and pointed at her.
“Pay attention,” she snapped. “This is why I need you.”
“ ‘I am so certain that Ms. Hydrangea’s play is going to flop,’ ” Nipper kept reading, “ ‘that I am willing to make a generous offer.’ ”
Buffy nodded at Samantha.
“ ‘If the show survives all the previews and makes it through opening night, I will climb to the top of the Empire State Building in my underwear,’ ” Nipper continued.
“Underwear?” Samantha asked. “That’s exceptionally—”
“Wait for it,” Buffy commanded.
“ ‘Then I, Charles von Bagelhouven III, will race to Hollywood, where I will raise the money for a spectacular big-budget movie of the play.’ ”
Buffy jumped up and put a hand on her sister’s s
houlder.
“Scarlett Hydrangea’s Secret of the Nile has to survive!” she hollered. “So I’m making you the producer!”
“What?” Samantha asked, surprised.
“You’re going to help make sure my show survives. We can’t miss opening night!”
The surprise wore off quickly and Samantha yawned. This was interesting, but she was exhausted from their four flights. And hearing her big sister wailing and whining was double-triple super-exhausting. She wasn’t in New York to become a producer. She had come to see Cleopatra’s Needle. She had come to find Uncle Paul.
“Honest, Buffy, I’d love to hear more about your show, but I have to wake up very early tomorrow,” she said.
“Are we staying in this castle?” Nipper asked, looking around the room.
“Oh, yes,” Buffy replied, wiping her eyes. “I’ve got special guest rooms for you two.”
She turned toward Nathaniel.
“Nate. Did you prepare the stables?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied, “but we’re not any closer to finding the rainbow unicorns for you, Ms. Hydrangea.”
“I know that,” said Buffy. “But I asked you to put in mattresses for my kid sister and little baby brother.”
“Stables?” asked Samantha.
“Little baby brother?” asked Nipper.
Buffy gestured for them to follow her. She led them back to the main entrance. Nathaniel followed. They passed a huge, round stone with a hole in the center. It was as tall as Nipper and stood on a base with a sign that read STONE COIN OF YAP.
“Yap?” asked Nipper.
“It’s in the South Pacific, laddie,” Nathaniel told him.
“Well…Yap reminds me of Dennis, our dog,” Nipper said.
The giant stone circle reminded Samantha of a big waffle. And that reminded her of Uncle Paul. Where did he go? What did he mean about June?
“That coin reminds me,” said Buffy. “Where’s Penny?”
“She dropped us off out front,” said Nipper. “She went shopping for giraffe costumes.”
“Good,” said Buffy. “That’s for my rain forest treetop tap dance number.”
Samantha was extremely done hearing about her sister’s play for the night, but she had to speak up.
Samantha Spinner and the Spectacular Specs Page 4
