by Dan Gutman
“No, I haven’t heard of your website,” the lady said, looking around for a guard. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“My family and I drove all the way from California!” Mrs. McDonald shouted. “We want to see The Museum of Questionable Medical Devices!”
“Bridge, you’re making a scene.”
It wasn’t exactly true that they drove all the way from California just to see the museum. But it gave more weight to Mrs. McDonald’s indignation.
“We do have a few of the devices from that museum on display in a room here,” the lady said apologetically. “But that’s all.”
“This is not right!” Mrs. McDonald shouted. “The Museum of Questionable Medical Devices was in the guidebook!”
“You must have an old guidebook, ma’am.”
“I’m going to talk to the manager!” Mrs. McDonald said, and then she stormed off in a huff.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” Coke said to his sister after their mother was gone.
“Do museums even have managers?” asked Pep.
While Mrs. McDonald was looking for a place to lodge a complaint, Dr. McDonald went to sit down on a bench. The twins wandered around the lobby. Lining the wall was a rack filled with maps and dozens of sightseeing brochures. The twins strolled over to look at them.
There were colorful brochures advertising other nearby museums, amusement parks, theme restaurants, underground caves, and stores selling everything from Christmas ornaments to gourmet popcorn.
Suddenly, Pep gasped and sank to her knees.
“What is it?” Coke asked, putting an arm around his sister. “Are you okay? Do you need some water or something?”
She just pointed at the bottom of the rack. Coke bent down to see the brochure she was pointing at. It looked like this.
Chapter 22
A Magical Night
The House on the Rock! There actually was such a place! Who knew?
The brochure showed a photo of a Japanese-style house high up on top of, what else—a rock.
The twins read the first lines together.
“As glacial seas receded, they left a towering spindle of rock. . . . Then came a man filled with grand dreams and soaring visions. When Alex Jordan first climbed that rocky pinnacle, his imagination took flight. The result is the attraction known worldwide as The House on the Rock—a one-of-a-kind adventure and treasure trove of some of the world’s most unique architecture and eclectic collections filled with the exotic, the whimsical, and the unexpected.”
Coke’s first reaction was anger—at himself. If he had simply done a Google search after they’d received the first cipher, The House on the Rock would have turned up. But it had never even crossed his mind that The House on the Rock was the name of a real place, an actual destination that thousands of people visited every year. He just thought it was some regular house on a rock somewhere.
Even so, he should have known about it, he told himself. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain, he must have seen, heard, or read something about The House on the Rock.
The brochure went on to describe a sort of Willy Wonka-ish magical museum filled with gigantic sea creatures, dolls, mechanical music machines, jewels, weapons, the largest carousel in the world, and hundreds of strange objects of all kinds.
“That guy Alex Jordan who built The House on the Rock must be a piece of work,” Pep said.
While they were looking over the brochure, Mrs. McDonald returned, and Dr. McDonald came over from the bench where he had been sitting.
“Let’s blow this pop stand,” their mother told the twins. “The Museum of Questionable Medical Devices closed a long time ago. I’ll take the blame for this one. My guidebook was out of date.”
“It’s okay, Bridge,” Dr. McDonald said. “It’s all part of the cross-country experience.”
“We found someplace even better where we want to go,” Pep said.
“Where?”
“The House on the Rock,” the twins said together, showing their parents the brochure.
“This place looks like a tourist trap,” Dr. McDonald said after examining the brochure.
“We like tourist traps, Dad,” Pep argued.
“The House on the Rock sounds way cool,” Coke said. “They’ve got the largest carousel in the world there, Mom. You can write about it for Amazing but True. They’ve got all kinds of historical stuff, too, Dad. It will be educational. We really have to go.”
Pep pulled out her cell phone to double-check the date. June twenty-fourth. They had to be in The Infinity Room at The House on the Rock at one o’clock the next afternoon.
“Please, please, please, please!” she pleaded. “It will be our birthday tomorrow!”
“Where is this place?” Dr. McDonald said grumpily.
The twins could tell he was bending.
The little map on the back of the brochure said The House on the Rock was in Spring Green, Wisconsin. The distances from a bunch of cities were listed, and it was 275 miles from Minneapolis.
“We could drive there today and visit The House on the Rock tomorrow,” Pep suggested. “Like, just before one o’clock in the afternoon.”
“It’s still early,” Mrs. McDonald said. “I suppose we might even be able to get there before it closes today.”
The twins looked at each other. Today was no good. They had to be there on June twenty-fifth.
“It will take hours to see the whole place,” Coke said. “It would be better to go tomorrow and get an early start.”
“Yeah,” Pep agreed. “Going to The House on the Rock would make a great birthday present. Please, please, please?”
Mrs. McDonald opened her laptop and went to Google Maps to see which direction Spring Green, Wisconsin, was in relation to Minneapolis/St. Paul.
“It’s east of here, Ben,” she said. “We could stop there on our way to Washington.”
Dr. McDonald sighed.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s go.”
“Yippee!”
Go to Google Maps (http://maps.google.com/).
Click Get Directions.
In the A box, type Minneapolis MN.
In the B box, type Spring Green WI.
Click Get Directions.
They headed out of Minneapolis on Interstate 94 East. There were so many other attractions in Minnesota that Mrs. McDonald would have liked to see. She really wanted to go to the town of Preston and visit JailHouse Inn, an 1869 jail that had been converted into a bed-and-breakfast. Two Minnesota towns—Rochester and Olivia—claim to have the world’s largest ear of corn. She would have liked to settle the argument once and for all. But no, all the kids wanted to see was The House on the Rock.
Just twenty-five miles out of St. Paul, they crossed the Mississippi River. On the other side of the bridge was a sign . . .
“Woo-hoo!” Coke hollered. “Home of the cheese-heads! Did you know that in Wisconsin, water fountains are called bubblers?”
“Did you know that in every state of the Union you’re obnoxious?” Pep replied.
Oh, it was tempting to make a bunch of stops in Wisconsin. The Hamburger Hall of Fame was in Seymour, and the Mustard Museum was in Mount Horeb. (They have five thousand different kinds of mustard from all over the world.) There was a museum devoted to spinning tops in Burlington, and one devoted to the circus in Baraboo, which was the home of Ringling Brothers. And in Neillsville, Wisconsin, they had the world’s largest cheese. That may have been the toughest thing to pass up.
“Don’t even think about it, Mom,” Coke said. “We need to get to The House on the Rock tomorrow.”
“What’s the big rush to get to this place?” Dr. McDonald asked.
“We’re kids, remember?” Coke replied. “We’re incapable of delaying our gratification.”
“We have to have everything now,” Pep added.
“Oh yeah.”
After a long drive past countless rolling hills and dairy farms, Dr. McDonald pulled into a campground a few
miles outside the town of Wisconsin Dells to stop for the night. It was about an hour from Spring Green. They would be able to get an early start in the morning and spend as much time as they liked at The House on the Rock.
There was a little store at the campground, and Mrs. McDonald stocked up on supplies. Coke did a dump at the septic tank and didn’t spill a drop on anybody. The family had a leisurely dinner of hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill. Afterward, the twins toasted marshmallows and spread out a blanket on the grass to gaze up at the stars. Dr. and Mrs. McDonald sang “Happy Birthday.” They kept saying how hard it was to believe that Coke and Pep were about to turn thirteen. Teenagers! Everyone reminisced and laughed over old memories.
All four of the McDonalds were in a good mood for a change. It was one of those magical nights. To the twins, everything seemed right in the world. There were no secret messages left on the windshield or lipsticked on the bathroom mirror. No evil health teachers or mysterious dudes in bowler hats creeping around and causing trouble.
The next day, of course, it might be a different story. They had a meeting with someone who wanted to see them very badly at The House on the Rock.
Chapter 23
The House on the Rock
There’s a birthday tradition in the McDonald household: cupcakes before breakfast! With a candle in each one. It’s called Backward Day. Dessert first and then the meal. Mrs. McDonald woke up before the twins so she could bake four cupcakes in the RV’s little microwave oven. They may not have been as delicious as last year’s, but cupcakes were cupcakes. Presents, it was agreed, would be given out at the end of the day.
The McDonalds checked out of the campground and followed Route 23 heading south through the gentle hills and dairy farms of southern Wisconsin. After about an hour, they passed this sign:
The twins looked at each other. They had lived together for thirteen years, and by now each knew what the other was thinking. They didn’t have to say it out loud.
This was it. No more ciphers. No more mysteries. No more secret meetings with odd strangers. Neither of them knew what was going to happen at The House on the Rock; but whatever happened, it would be over. For all they knew, this could very well be their last birthday. Pep hugged her brother, and he hugged her back.
Coke played a mental video of everything that had happened to them since the last day of school. The guys in golf carts with blow guns. The jump off the cliff. The fire at school. Meeting Bones and learning about The Genius Files. The ciphers. The balls of twine. Doing the dump on Mrs. Higgins. The singing sand dune. The sadistic bowler dudes. The SPAM fiasco. Dad going crazy at the Bonneville Salt Flats. Mom flipping out at the nonexistent Museum of Questionable Medical Devices. The miles and miles of highway they had traveled. The strange places they had visited.
It had been quite a trip, and they were only a little more than halfway across the country.
From the parking lot, you can barely see the house or the rock. Trees on all sides block the view. The twins grabbed their backpacks and followed their parents down a twisted walkway to the entrance. A group of people were waiting in line to buy tickets. Dr. McDonald paid the admission with his credit card and asked the man behind the desk where the bathrooms were located.
“How about we meet back here later?” Coke suggested to his parents.
“Okay,” his mother replied. “You two stay together—and stay out of trouble, you hear? Don’t touch anything.”
“We won’t.”
When the twins were little, they’d held hands with their parents and went everywhere as a foursome. By the time they were ten, whenever they went out as a family, the kids had wanted to run up ahead. Parents walk too slowly. They have to look at every little thing. And it seemed like they always had to stop and use the bathroom. Grown-ups just can’t hold it in the way kids can.
Near the entrance, there was a plaque on the wall that said a visionary architect named Alex Jordan started building The House on the Rock back in the 1940s, all by himself. It became his life’s work and obsession until he died in 1989.
Coke and Pep silenced their cell phones and checked the time. It was 12:29 p.m.
“Perfect,” Coke said. “We have a half an hour to find The Infinity Room. Plenty of time. Let’s roll.”
“Maybe we should ask for directions,” his sister suggested.
“I don’t want to make anyone suspicious,” Coke replied. “We’ll find it on our own.”
Pep shook her head and mumbled one word.
“Boys.”
They followed a group of tourists who were lining up outside The Gate House, which was the entryway to the main part of The House on the Rock. Once inside the door, it was hard to see. The room was illuminated mainly by colorful antique stained glass lamps. The floor and walls were lined with carpet except for some floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The ceiling was low, and Coke bumped his head against it. Fortunately, the ceiling was carpeted, too. It gave the room a claustrophobic feel.
“This place is creepy,” Pep whispered into her brother’s ear.
“Just be careful,” he replied. “Don’t let down your guard.”
In one corner of The Gate House was a group of odd-looking violins, drums, and other musical instruments. The twins—and everyone else in the room—were startled when this little orchestra spontaneously started playing chamber music for no reason . . . and with no human help. It appeared to be controlled not electronically, but pneumatically.
The music was slightly out of tune. It was an eerie sound, the tune unrecognizable.
The place was sort of like a museum, but sort of not like a museum, too. It looked more like a Haunted House on the Rock.
“I’m scared, Mommy,” a little boy said, clinging to his mother while the strange music played.
The door at the end of The Gate House opened to the outside, where a red-carpeted ramp extended mazelike to The House on the Rock itself. Inside were more dimly lit rooms filled with lamps topped by fancy multicolored stained glass shades. There was also a stained glass door that had been turned on its side and made into a coffee table.
“Alex Jordan sure loved stained glass,” Coke told his sister.
Judging by the rest of the house, Jordan also loved odd sculptures, big bells lined up in a row, mysterious electrical equipment, machinery of all kinds, wind chimes, water wheels, and lots of other random things that had been mixed and matched into a gigantic whirlwind of stuff. There was another automatic music machine, this one playing the theme from The Godfather.
It looked like the storage room of a museum that had too many artifacts to display at once. The twins dashed from one room to the next looking for The Infinity Room and wondering what could possibly be next.
“This place looks like Disneyland on drugs,” Coke commented.
“There’s something in every nook and cranny,” his sister said.
“What’s a cranny?” Coke asked. “I always wondered what the difference between a nook and a cranny was.”
“You mean there’s something that you admit you don’t know?”
They had walked through every room in the house, except The Infinity Room.
But Alex Jordan’s house itself, they discovered, was only the beginning of this thing called The House on the Rock. After exiting the main house, they saw signs pointing to a path that led back down a ramp, past a garden plaza area, to another building marked The Mill House.
“I hate to say this,” Pep said as they walked down the ramp to The Mill House, “but I have a feeling that somebody’s following us.”
“Lots of people are following us,” Coke replied. “This place is crawling with tourists.”
But in fact, Pep was right, as usual. Somebody was following them. Right outside the door to The Mill House, a tall woman with a large purse was wiping her hands with a tissue.
“Mrs. Higgins!” Pep exclaimed, stopping in her tracks not five feet from the health teacher.
The twins had not seen Mrs. Higgins
since they’d dumped the contents of their family’s RV’s bathroom on her head a few days earlier in Darwin, Minnesota. Coke gripped his sister’s hand tightly. His instinct was to bolt, but he was thrown off because his health teacher had a big smile on her face.
“Well, if it isn’t the McDonald twins!” Mrs. Higgins said sweetly. “What a lovely coincidence!”
Pep was taken aback too. It wasn’t like Mrs. Higgins to be charming. Pep didn’t quite know what to make of it.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she said.
“Small world,” Mrs. Higgins replied. “Wasn’t it horrible what happened to the school? Who could have done such a terrible thing?”
“Yes, horrible.”
Pep could hardly believe that she was making small talk with a woman who had tried to kill them. Maybe I had it all wrong, Pep thought. Maybe it really was a coincidence that Mrs. Higgins happened to be at The House on the Rock today. Maybe she didn’t set that fire at school and trap us in the detention room. Maybe she wasn’t trying to do a suicide attack at the ball of twine. And maybe she didn’t even know we were the ones who dropped five days’ worth of human waste on her head while she was seat-belted in her car. Maybe it was all a big mistake. A case of mistaken identity.
Mrs. Higgins was carrying a purse, but she didn’t appear to have any kind of weapon on her. It was probably full of hand sanitizer and disinfectant. She seemed harmless.
But suddenly the expression on her face darkened.
“C’mere, you two!” she barked, reaching out to grab their arms.
“Run!” Coke yelled to his sister. He karate-chopped Mrs. Higgins’s hand away and took off.
Pep pushed open the door to The Mill House and shoved her way past a group of fifteen Japanese tourists. Right behind her, Coke knocked down an elderly man as they dashed through a gigantic room stuffed to the rafters with antique dolls, African masks, toy trains, and miniature hot-air balloons. They rushed past an entire wall filled with old mechanical piggy banks and another one with colored glass bottles, vases, and paperweights. The twins followed the path and ran up a spiral staircase to a room with more stained glass, bronze statues, and a huge fireplace.
