by Nydam, Anne
But they didn’t have to ask Ms Goggin. As soon as the last lot was sold and the last items were wrapped up and carried away or labeled for shipping, Mr Green called them over.
“I have something for you, Polly.” He handed her a thick manila envelope.
They all crowded around as Polly opened the envelope and pulled out an old, leather-bound book with a gold key stamped on the crumbly spine. “The Wreath Book? I don’t understand! How did you…?”
Raphael and Miranda were both grinning ear to ear. Raphael said, “I bought it for you. With money from the Fortunate Richard Fund.”
“But you were supposed to use that for your education!”
“Polly, the fund is just over ten million dollars! I have enough money for college and grad school for me, and the Book for you, and plenty left over to start a scholarship fund for kids in Boston, or for girls in areas where only boys usually get an education, or maybe for a program to help kids learn good strategies for coping with tough neighborhoods… I haven’t figured out exactly how I want to use it to help the most people, but the Wreath Book is a very small price to pay to thank you for giving me the fund in the first place.”
“But what about the man who won it in the auction?” Matias asked, “How did you convince him to sell it you?”
“No, that was Michael, one of my brothers. I couldn’t bid on it myself or it wouldn’t be a fair auction. So I asked him to come and bid for me.”
Polly had been flipping lovingly through the old, familiar pages. Now she threw her arms around Raphael. “This is amazing, Raphael. Thank you so much!” She turned to Chen and Matias. “Where shall we go next?”
The others leaned in eagerly over the Book to point out their favorite pages.
Soon afterwards, Ms Goggin said, “It’s late, Polly. I think your friends had better get home.”
Matias pulled the key from the spine of the Dragon Book and found the page with the wood block print of his uncle’s door.
“Thanks for coming, you guys.”
“Thanks for having us,” Matias replied.
After an instant’s hesitation Chen lowered his voice and said, “So, are we friends, then?”
“What?”
“Your mom said Your friends had better get home, so does that mean we’re friends?”
Polly looked at him sharply for a moment, and Chen felt himself growing hot. Then a mischievous smile spread over Polly’s face and she replied, “What do you think?”
Matias was now staring back and forth between the two of them, eyebrows raised in an expression of bafflement.
More embarrassed than ever, Chen persisted, “Well, I think we are. But you can never be sure.”
“I think we are, too,” Polly agreed, and when she abruptly reached out, grabbed his hand, and shook it heartily, Chen couldn’t help bursting into laughter.
Polly proceeded to shake Matias’s hand, and Matias, bowing with mock solemnity, shook Chen’s.
“I don’t know what that was all about,” he said, “But it’s been a pleasure, my dear sir and mademoiselle.”
“The pleasure is mine, good sir,” Chen replied as best he could through the laughter.
When Chen and Matias were gone Polly went upstairs to her bedroom buoyant with excitement, but by the next morning she had thought of some-thing she had to do. After breakfast she went back to her room, turned the Wreath Book spine upward, and felt along the worn leather until her fingertips found the edge of the gold key. When it was in her hand, she flipped through the pages until she came to the woodcut of an old-fashioned screen door. She hesitated a moment, sighed, and turned the key in the keyhole.
A moment later she was standing in the narrow, faded hallway of Pearl Whitaker’s house.
As the door slammed behind her, Polly turned and knocked loudly on the chipped wooden frame.
“Hello! Hello, Ms Whitaker? It’s me, Polly!”
Pearl came into the hallway from the kitchen. “Polly, my dear, do come in. To what do I owe the honor?”
“I have the Wreath Book,” Polly told her, “Raphael bought it at my mom’s auction with the Fortunate Richard money.”
“That’s wonderful, dear. So you’ll get to keep it, and keep exploring. How exciting.”
She led Polly into the small kitchen and they both sat at the table. There was a moment of silence while Pearl poured lemonade. Polly stared at the red-checked tablecloth.
Pearl asked gently, “What’s wrong, my dear?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s magnificent, really. Raphael’s already enrolled in some evening college classes so he can keep working with us while he starts on his program. He and my mom are kind of awkward recently, and they keep looking at each other funny and Mom blushes all the time, so it’s a little weird… but kind of nice, in a way. I think that might be an Important Thing. And Mom’s turned all warm-fuzzy since she thought I was murdered. We really talk together at dinner now, and she’s stopped working in time for us to do stuff together a few times. So really nothing’s wrong at all.”
“That all sounds lovely, dear. Those are definitely Important Things.”
“Yeah. But that’s not why I came, to tell you all that. I came to give you the Book.”
“You know my hearing’s not what it was. It sounded like you said you came to give me the Book.”
“I did. I was thinking, if it used to be your great grandfather’s, then really it should be yours, shouldn’t it?”
Pearl smiled. “That’s a very sweet thought, my dear, but I have no claim to the Book at all, you know. My great grandfather didn’t leave it to Grandmother. He left it to his son, who left it to his son, who left it to his son, who decided to sell it off to the highest bidder. And the highest bidder was your Raphael. It’s his, fair and square.”
Polly began to smile. “And he gave it to me!”
“Then it’s most certainly yours, Polly.”
“Oh, thank you! I just thought, you can never be sure.”
“Well, you can feel sure of it now.”
As Polly got up to go, Pearl paused a moment, her grey eyes gleaming. “But I do have just one request - not as the great-granddaughter of Rutherford J. Hinkelman, you understand, but simply as a friend.”
“What’s that?”
“Do you think I might just… maybe just once or twice… borrow it?”
“Of course! Call me any time and I’ll bring it right to you! Thank you, Ms Whitaker!”
“Thank you, my dear.”
“Did you have a good time with Matias and Polly?” Dr Burr asked Chen as he entered the Department of Prints and Rare Books in the morning.
“No trouble with the cannibal cults?” teased Dr Connelly.
“Very funny, Dad.”
“How was the auction?”
“It was pretty interesting, actually, but the best thing was that Mr Green was able to buy their copy of Serlio’s Extraordinary Book of Doors.”
Chen’s mother murmured, “I still don’t understand why the sudden interest in Serlio. Or how it is that Polly visits Cleveland so much if she lives in Boston.”
Chen could hear Polly’s voice in his head saying, “No lies, Chen.” He smiled. One of these days soon he’d definitely have to tell his parents everything - but maybe he’d better get Mr Salceda to explain the part about the magic. For now, though, he just changed the subject.
“Can I stay at home tomorrow when you come to the museum? Matias said he could go around to Evan’s house with me so we can see all the animals he keeps.”
“I don’t see why not,” Dr Burr replied.
Dr Connelly said, “Did you hear that, Robin? He’s finally accepting the idea of living in such a dangerous neighborhood. He called it home.”
Dr Burr smiled.
Chen grinned, too. “Yeah, I guess it isn’t so bad. I think I might actually learn to like it here.”
As he took a new library book and went to sit by the window, he thought, “Besides, we’ll also have plenty
of places to go that aren’t here. I’ve still got a lot more doors to open.”
Author’s Notes
Sebastiano Serlio was a real architect who was born in Italy in 1475 and died in France in 1554, and Dr Burr’s description of him to Chen is historically accurate. He really did make a book usually called in its English translations The Extraordinary Book of Doors, and it was this wonderful title which inspired me to imagine the events in my story. Serlio’s real book is a collection of beautiful prints of designs for ornate door frames. In some editions the prints are woodcuts, while in others they’re copper engravings. Although the engravings would have been considered higher quality at the time, I happen to like the woodcuts better. But as far as I know there are no copies of this book in which the doors actually become magical portals!
There also really is a Cleveland Museum of Art, and it really is one of the most amazing places I know. I have made my descriptions as consistent with the real museum as possible, but this is a work of fiction and I have changed some things to suit the purposes of my story. There is no Department of Prints and Rare Books, and all of the people associated with the Museum in my story - curators, guards, visitors, and all - are wholly fictional.
Of course you know that Benjamin Franklin was real, and I’ve tried to make everything about him in this story (except his possession of a magic Book) fit the facts of his life. For example, he really did leave funds to the cities of Philadelphia and Boston to collect interest for two hundred years, and he really did like to perform “magic” tricks for his friends, including lots of experiments with electricity and with oil on water.
As for the doors in the story, some represent actual places while others are imaginary. I’ve tried to make the real ones as accurate as possible, and if you’re curious, you can find out more about many of the real places and their fascinating history, as well as their connections with Benjamin Franklin.
III - government building (Germany, maybe) - Imaginary
IV - Salle de Caryatids, Louvre, Paris, France - Real
VI - Passy home – The Hôtel de Valentinois, where Franklin lived outside Paris, was built too late to have been one of Serlio’s original doors, but it’s true that it was knocked down in 1909 and that there is now a plaque commemorating Franklin on the street corner where the building stood.
X - St Salvator’s Chapel, St Andrews University, St Andrews, Scotland - Real
XIII - fancy parlor, France - Imaginary
XVI - courtyard (Morocco, maybe) - Imaginary
XVII - alley (Italy, maybe) - Imaginary
XIX - stone garden room (France, maybe) - Imaginary
XXII - St Bartholomew the Great, London, England - Real
XXV - shopping mall, Italy - Imaginary, but inspired by the Galleria in Milan
XXXIV - library (England, maybe) - Imaginary
XXXV - Independence Hall, Philadelphia, USA - Real
XXXVI - Old South Meeting House, Boston, USA - Real
XXXVIII - bank vault (Switzerland, maybe) - Imaginary
XXXIX - Pearl’s house, Altoona, USA - Imaginary
XLI - greenhouse (England, maybe) - Imaginary
XLV - Tobal’s house, Cleveland Heights, USA - Imaginary
No Number - mountaintop ruin (Peru, maybe) - Imaginary, but inspired by Machu Picchu
The illustrations for this book were made in a woodcut style. In Sebastiano Serlio’s time at least three different craftsmen would work on the creation of each wood block illustration: one artist to draw the design, one formschneider to carve the block, and one or more printers to print from the block onto the paper. However, I made these illustrations all by myself. Some are actually block prints, which I drew, carved, inked, and printed myself, while most were done with an electronic tablet and the computer. You can see my process of making relief block prints as well as more of my artwork at nydamprints.com.
Finally, thanks to Harper for her critical reading. Thanks to Eric Frere for the French. Thanks to Dave, Peter, and Trintje for their loyal assistance, encouragement, and support. Thanks to the Cleveland Museum of Art for its commitment to making the experience of amazing art available to visitors for free! Thanks to all the strangers who posted photos and information on the internet about the Louvre, St Bartholomew the Great Church, St Salvator’s Chapel, and all the other places I had to research without being able to visit. The internet can be almost as good at providing magical portals as an Extraordinary Book of Doors.
Also by Anne E.G. Nydam
Hey, Diddle Diddle! and Other Rhymes
Amazing, Beguiling, Curious: 26 Fascinating Creatures
Kate and Sam to the Rescue
Kate and Sam and the Chipmunks of Doom
Kate and Sam and the Cheesemonster
The Bad Advice of Grandma Hasenfuss
Song Against Shadow
Sleeping Legends Lie
Return to Tchrkkusk
Vision Revealed
A Threatening of Dragons
Ruin of Ancient Powers
Visit www.nydamprints.com
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