by Nydam, Anne
“I’m not sure it’s really that simple,” Chen said apologetically. “We haven’t even solved all the clues we’ve seen, and some of them are missing so we’ll never be able to see them at all. And we probably won’t be able to get to the remaining clues without the Wreath Book.” He turned to Polly. “What’s left?”
Polly was already unfolding her crumpled graph paper from her hip pouch. After studying it for a moment she shook her head ruefully. “We have only one clue location left to go, but it’s through plate thirty-six, which means it’s one of the doors that only the Wreath Book has.”
Tobal said thoughtfully, “I suppose this Mr Blank and his brother have as much right to the Franklin fund as anyone else…” He quelled Polly’s outraged interruption with a raised eyebrow. “But he does not have any right to the Wreath Book, which, as I understand it, he stole from your mother’s office. Correct?”
Polly nodded. “Yes, but-”
Tobal continued, “So if we’re going to recover your Wreath Book, we may as well do it before anyone else gets their hands on that treasure, right?”
“Oh. Right,” Polly agreed, her scowl turning into a happy smile.
“If we assume that Ammon Blank’s first priority will be to find the treasure, then our first priority will be to get there before him.”
Chen frowned. It was bad enough that he always had to be the voice of pessimism with Polly and Matias, but now he had to do it for a grown-up, too? Tentatively he began, “How can we get there before him when we can’t get there at all? He’s got the only Book that goes to the last clue.”
Tobal smiled approvingly at Chen, like a teacher with a particularly bright student. “Ah, but we have a Book that can go to his Book, so all we need to do is wait until he’s gone through his Plate Thirty-six and then we’ll go through our Plate Thirty-two and be at Franklin’s clue.”
“But we won’t be ahead of him.”
“No, but we’ll be smarter than him, so we’ll know exactly what to look for. We’ll figure out the clue before him.”
“We will?” asked Matias.
“Definitely. I’ll leave you three to work on that, while I prepare a little something to detect where the Books are.”
The children sat looking at each other while Tobal went upstairs to his workshop. Then Polly pointed to the number 36 on her graph paper and read out, “Find my roots in this place, for in life those grow tallest whose roots are strong; yet if a tree and a man grow straightest whose hearts are soundest, here seek my key in the opposite.”
“So we’re looking for roots?” Matias asked, his cheerful face scrunched up in puzzlement. “Or the opposite of roots. What would that be: leaves?”
“No, I think it means the opposite of a sound heart,” said Polly, “Maybe we’re looking for an evil tree.”
Chen shook his head. “I don’t see how we can solve the clue until we see what kind of place Benjamin Franklin sends us. Will it be a forest with trees, or some random chateau in France, or what?”
“But if we can’t figure it out before we go through the door, how can we beat Ammon Blank to it?”
“I don’t know, but how about if we go through all the other clues and see what we already have. We’ve never figured out half of them, yet, either, and maybe if we make more progress with all the other clues we’ll see a pattern.”
“Okay, that seems plausible.”
Matias grabbed a pencil and a notepad from a side table. “Let’s hear it,” he said.
“The first clue was to count fair women, and there were four.”
“Four,” Matias repeated, writing it on his pad.
“The second clue was to look up and see something that brings the good man closer to goodness and the frivolous man closer to frivolité. When you look in the right place you see a big church organ, so we figured the answer was something having to do with music. But we’re not really sure about that one yet.”
Matias frowned, pencil hovering over the paper. “So, music, I guess,” he said with a shrug, and wrote that down.
Polly continued, “The third clue was to count windows on Independence Hall in Philadelphia, and there were eight that fit the description.”
“Eight.”
“The fourth is the one Ammon Blank stole out of the old church in Scotland, so we have no idea what it was.”
“Well, read out the clue.”
“The fourth of my name is an anagramme of the first four letters of the one at the center of the rediscovered treasure displayed here, making thereby the word that is the quality of my whole, for it is a blessing to the industrious man, tho’ no miser can ever feel it.”
Chen explained, “The rediscovered treasure is a ceremonial church mace, which is sort of like a big scepter; we figured out that much. But we have no idea what it looks like or what was at the center of it, because it wasn’t there for us to see.”
Matias said, “Probably the one at the center of the mace is the one the church is dedicated to. Some saint or other, right? That’s what churches usually do. What church was it stolen from?”
Chen and Polly looked at each other, trying to remember. Finally Chen said, “St Salvator’s Chapel, I think she said.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” Polly agreed, making a note on her list of doors. “So we want an anagram of SALV? Lavs, slav, alvs… How is any of that supposed to make a word that means the quality of my whole? And what does the quality of my whole mean, anyway?”
Matias answered, “Well, St Salvator is another name for Christ. So maybe we want an anagram of CHRI. What about RICH?”
“That’s it!” exclaimed Chen excitedly, “Matias, you’re a genius! Having the whole password will make you rich, because you’ll get the treasure, and being rich is… how did the clue go? A blessing to the industrious man!”
“And no miser ever feels rich,” concluded Polly triumphantly. “Perfect!”
Matias flushed with pleasure but said modestly, “Great, I’ll put that down. Rich. So what’s the fifth clue?”
Polly looked back at her notes. “Let’s see… Oh, right, this is the one about fruits carved on a mantelpiece and not being easy. Chen guessed that it’s hard, like with the password to the door of Moria in Tolkien.”
“Oh yeah,” Matias said, grinning, “Speak, Friend, and enter. Brilliant, Chen!”
Chen looked up eagerly. “You’re a Lord of the Rings fan? What other books do you like?”
“I like lots of books. One of my favorites I’ve just read is the third book in the Laundry Basket Chronicles.”
“I love those books, too!”
To Chen’s surprise, Polly interrupted, “I don’t know… I don’t think it’s very realistic how Anneke the scullery maid is always so cautious. If I had to save the kingdom from the Forces of Evil I wouldn’t sit around worrying about whether leaving the potatoes unpeeled might make the Duchess suspicious.”
“I love Anneke,” Chen protested hotly, “I love how she thinks things through before just jumping into some crazy, dangerous stunt like the heroes in most books!” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Chen wished he hadn’t spoken. He felt himself growing hot, and he glanced at the other boy. Would Matias think he was weird for saying he loved the girl character best? Would he think he was a wimp for admitting he preferred to be cautious? Everyone knew real heroes had to be Men of Action. Would Matias tell everyone in their class that Chen was some timid girly boy deserving of derision?
Chen’s imagination would doubtless have continued to envision ever more terrible fates, but luckily Matias was already answering. “But don’t you think Anneke and Morrik make perfect partners? They balance each other out, you know? Though to tell the truth, my favorite character is Basket!” He laughed, looking a little embarrassed, himself. “It’s just so friendly and easy-going. Anyway, it’s got to be a good series because Uncle Tobal doesn’t mind it. He’s always ruining books by complaining that the magic isn’t realistic.”
Polly shrugged. “Hm.
Well, I guess you never know. But let’s get back to these clues.”
“Right. Hard,” repeated Matias, writing it down. He pursed his lips thoughtfully, staring at his notebook. “So we have 4 music 8 rich hard.” He looked up at the others. “I don’t get it.”
Before anyone could reply, Mr Salceda came clattering back down the stairs, announcing, “I think I’ve done it! And a very neat bit of magic it is, too!”
“If it works,” Matias teased him.
“Yeah, that’s always the question, isn’t it,” Tobal replied good-naturedly. He sat down in the armchair and held up a small copper tube which flared to the diameter of a quarter at one end, while the other end had a flange that made it look almost like a simple key. Unlike a key, however, there was something that looked like a wing nut poking out on one side. Tobal grabbed up The Extraordinary Book of Doors from the coffee table, plucked off the enchanted key as naturally as if it were solid all along, and flipped open to Plate XXXII. “Behold!” he announced with a little flourish, and carefully inserted his instrument into the keyhole through the page.
Putting his eye to the flared end of the spy key, he peered through and delicately turned the wing nut. “It looks like the Wreath Book is in some sort of big white room with columns and balconies… a lecture hall, maybe?” He gave the wing nut another fractional adjustment.
“That’s not Ammon Blank’s apartment,” Polly said excitedly, “And I don’t think it’s anywhere we’ve already been, right, Chen? It must be the last clue!”
“Could be,” Chen agreed more cautiously.
Tobal raised his head and nodded. “We’ll give it a try. I’ll open the door and we’ll go through as sneakily as possible. Polly and Chen, you duck out of sight immediately in the first place you can find cover. But scope things out as best you can from out of sight and try to figure out what the clue might be referring to. I’ll hide, too, because if Ammon Blank cased out my house for the theft, he may know what I look like. Matias, you’re probably the only one he won’t recognize, so you’ll be the lookout. You see if you can spot what Blank is up to and report back. Everyone ready?”
The children all nodded. Tobal slipped the spy key into his pocket and picked up the Book’s gold key. In no time he turned it in the keyhole and opened door 32, the portal to the Wreath Book and its Plate XXXVI.
XV. Something Found and Someone Lost
With the portal open just a crack, Matias slipped through first and looked around curiously. After a moment he whispered back through the doorway, “Crawl through and you’ll be hidden behind a wooden thing. I see a couple men here. You’ll have to tell me which one is him.”
One by one the other three crawled through the doorway and found themselves in a large, airy room, painted white and lit through big arch-shaped windows. They peered over the top of a wooden partition about the height of a chair back and saw that the entire floor of the room was divided into a sort of grid by more of the same low wooden partitions. In the center of the wall to their left rose a large, ornately carved pulpit with a funny wooden canopy hanging over it. Wrapping around the other three walls were two levels of balconies.
“Where are we?” asked Polly.
“Matias, see if you can find out and report back. Polly and Chen, see if you can spot Ammon Blank.”
Matias went around the edge of the low wooden wall and strolled casually between it and the next partition, looking around wonderingly. There was nothing unusual about his behavior, as Chen and Polly could see that the other half dozen people in the building were doing much the same thing. There seemed to be a number of small plaques and displays all around, and people were stopping to read them as they walked.
It was a minute or two before Polly saw Ammon Blank, for he was so nondescript, so unremarkable, that even though she was looking for him, her eyes had passed over him as he stood half behind a column, face turned downward, looking at a piece of paper in his hands. It was only a moment later that Matias returned and crouched down beside the others to have Blank pointed out to him, and to make his report.
“We’re in the Old South Meeting House. This is where they planned the Boston Tea Party.”
“I know this place!” exclaimed Polly, “It’s on the Freedom Trail in Boston. But I’ve never actually been inside before. Cool!”
“So you could get home from here?” Chen asked.
“Yeah, if I had money I could take the train out to Wellesley. Or if I had a phone I could call my mom and ask her to come pick me up.” Then she added quickly, “But I’m not going home until we find that treasure!”
“Hey!” Matias interrupted, “He’s on the move!”
They looked up to see Ammon Blank walking toward the door to their right. They all ducked down and Mr Salceda hissed, “Matias, get after him and find out what he’s doing.”
Once again Matias slipped out of hiding and headed toward Mr Blank and the front door. This time it was several minutes before he returned, and meanwhile Polly pulled out her list of doors and stared at the sixth clue.
“Find my roots in this place,” Polly murmured, “Was Benjamin Franklin involved in the Boston Tea Party? What are his roots?”
“Well, it can’t be a tree in here,” Chen said.
Then Matias reappeared. “You can come on out and explore all you like. The coast’s clear.”
“Where did he go?” asked Mr Salceda.
“He went outside and got in a taxi and drove away.”
“Did you hear him say where he was going?”
Matias shook his head. “No, he was already inside the taxi before he said anything to the driver.”
Chen said glumly, “He must have found the final clue already. I bet he’s on his way to turn it all in and claim the money!”
“No!” Polly burst out in disappointment, but Tobal shook his head.
“The last thing he was doing before he left was standing there frowning at some paper. That doesn’t seem like he’d just found the final clue.”
“Maybe the paper he was looking at was the final thing we were supposed to find,” Chen said.
“It’s possible, but I don’t think we should assume we’re too late. I think we have a great opportunity here to look around without him. The first thing we need to do is figure out Benjamin Franklin’s connection to this place. Let’s go.”
As it turned out, that was surprisingly easy. A plaque on another of the wooden partitions not far away explained that this was the church that Benjamin Franklin’s parents attended, right across the street from their house where he was born. The grid-like wooden partitions were box pews, and a number marked the Franklin family’s pew. Polly opened the little gate and led the others into the enclosure, where they sat on the pew benches, facing each other inside the rectangle.
Tobal said, “If Franklin was born right across the street and baptized in this congregation, I’d say his roots were here.”
The children nodded, and Polly looked at her paper again. “So, if we’ve found his roots, then it says, If a tree and a man grow straightest whose hearts are soundest, here seek my key in the opposite.”
Matias groaned and slumped dramatically against the wooden column that rose right up through his bench. Ticking his list off on his fingers, he said, “The opposite of a tree, or the opposite of a man, or the opposite of straight, or the opposite of a sound heart? Does anyone see a crooked baby girl with a pacemaker? It doesn’t make any sense.”
Chen and Polly laughed, but then Polly pursed her lips severely. “We have to figure this out,” she said stubbornly, “We have to get it before Ammon Blank does. Think!”
“Okay,” Matias responded cheerfully, “Let’s look at the over-all message. It’s saying that even though in real life you’d want a sound heart so you’d grow straight, what we’re looking for here is something that either doesn’t grow straight or doesn’t have a sound heart. Maybe both. I mean neither. Or whatever - you know what I mean.”
“But what is the opposite o
f a sound heart? Evilness?”
Mr Salceda shook his head. “It has to be a physical place that we can see, and if the heart of something tangible like a tree is sound, that means solid, or strong and healthy.”
Chen said, “And the opposite of that would be something that’s hollow in the middle, which makes sense if Franklin hid a key inside it.”
“Right.”
Polly continued eagerly, “That seems plausible. So we’re looking for something that’s hollow and crooked. No, wait, something hollow and tall, because strong roots make things tall, and we found the place where the roots are.”
“The only tall things here in the Franklin family pew are Uncle Tobal and this pillar,” said Matias, and he knocked his knuckles against the rectangular base of it beside him. His eyebrows shot up at the muffled resonance. “It is hollow,” he breathed.
Polly dove across the box pew to scrabble at the corners of the pillar. “How do we get this thing open?”
“Calm down,” Tobal said quietly, coming across and putting a hand on Polly’s shoulder. Her hands dropped, but she didn’t stop staring at the thin crack between the planks that made the column’s base. “This building is a historical landmark, a national treasure. We are not going to tear into it like a wrecking crew. Give me a moment.”
Polly sat back reluctantly, and Matias scooted over to Chen to give his uncle room next to the pillar. Chen felt his heart beating faster. Was it really possible that they had finally found a treasure hidden for more than two hundred years?
Tobal ran his long fingers over the painted wood, stopping now and again to press a little harder or to wiggle gently at the edge of a seam between planks. Finally he tapped the column at the corner where the base joined the seat and back of the pew. “Here, I think. I should have thought to bring a blade of some sort.”
