Saving the Statue of Liberty

by Andrea Jo Rodgers

Overhearing Team Liberty’s discussion, an older gentleman eyed them with interest. Annabelle stood up and shifted toward the wall, where they could discuss the clue in privacy.

  “I don’t hear any suggestions,” Raphael joked.

  “Maybe you’re not listening,” John joined in.

  Annabelle tried not to smile. “We need to drum up some ideas.”

  Shaniqua groaned. “You mean ear drum up ideas? But seriously, there are lots of exhibits here. Is there a room here just for ears?”

  “A room h-e-r-e or a room h-e-a-r?” Raphael asked.

  Annabelle slapped her hand on her thigh. “Yes, of course, that’s it. I know you’re joking around, but there is a room like that. It’s called the Hearing Room.”

  “I saw a sign for that earlier. What do you suppose that room was used for?” Raphael asked.

  “They used it to conduct special inquiries. First an inspector gave each immigrant a brief legal screening in the Registry Room. The inspector asked them questions based on their ship’s manifest, which contained information about questions they answered when they were still in their original port of departure. If the inspector suspected that the immigrant was lying or admitted to spending time in jail, then he or she was detained until they had a hearing before the Board of Special Inquiry in the Hearing Room.”

  “Your super memory sure comes in handy. It sounds like our next clue could be in that room. Does anyone know exactly where it is?” John’s stomach growled, but he ignored it.

  “We have to go to the Through America’s Gate exhibit, I think.” Shaniqua led the way past the theater, across the Registry Room, and through a doorway into a long hallway.

  John peeked into rooms on the right side of the hallway marked “Medical Inspection” and “Legal Inspection.” “I think I see the Hearing Room at the end of the hallway.” John resisted the urge to break into a run. He knew that they didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention. They paused at the entrance to the room. “The sign says it’s been restored to look the way it did in 1911.”

  “My eyes still aren’t 100 percent better. What else does it say?” Raphael asked.

  “Ten percent of all immigrants were given a special-inquiry hearing. If people were suspected of being contract laborers or becoming public charges, they received special yellow cards marked ‘SI’ for Special Inquiry. There were usually three boards that each held fifty to one hundred hearings every day,” John said.

  “The board based their decision on the testimonies of the immigrants and their friends and relatives. Only 2 percent of the twelve million immigrants processed at Ellis Island were denied admission and sent back,” Shaniqua added.

  Raphael cleaned his magnifying glass by rubbing it against his T-shirt. “That’s pretty good. I mean, 98 percent got to stay. But I sure would feel terrible if I was part of that 2 percent. Can you imagine coming all the way here only to be sent back?”

  “I sure can’t.” Annabelle walked into the Hearing Room. At the front of the room, on an elevated platform surrounded by wooden railings, stood a wooden desk. Off to one side, a small shelf held an old-looking fan. Numerous glass panels protected several long benches. Wooden baseboards surrounded the display and kept the glass panels in place.

  They slowly turned 360 degrees, studying the room from every angle, looking for anything that could be their next clue.

  Shaniqua stood next to the glass panels, as close as she could to the benches, and gazed at the items on the desk. “I guess our clue can’t be in that area. It’s restricted, and I’m sure there are surveillance cameras in here. There’s no way a person could have climbed over those gates to hide a clue.” As she said the last word, she sneezed. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket, but it slipped through her fingers and landed on the wooden baseboard, next to the glass. She bent to pick it up. “I don’t believe it. There’s an envelope here, stuck in the crevice between the glass panel and the wood.” She reached in. “Make that two envelopes. One says ‘Team Liberty’ and the other ‘Team Mischief.’”

  “We’ve taken the lead. Good work, team.” Annabelle took the Team Mischief envelope and slid it back where they found it.

  “Not so fast,” Devlin said from behind them.

  Rats! They found us. I hope they didn’t see where Annabelle stashed their clue. John made sure not to look in that direction.

  “We don’t have time to waste looking for our clue, so we’ll just borrow yours.” Devlin grabbed the envelope from Annabelle’s hand.

  Raphael jumped to stop him, but he was too late.

  I can’t believe they’re such cheaters. John glanced at Malicia, who stood just to the left of him. She smelled like an odd combination of flowers and peanut butter. He liked both separately, but he didn’t like the two odors intermingled. He took a step away from her, though she didn’t seem to notice.

  “Sorry, but we have to run. I’m sure you understand,” Slade said.

  Team Mischief turned and left, their laughter echoing in the hallway as they ran away.

  “What a bunch of cheaters,” Raphael said.

  “We’ll just have to use their clue,” Annabelle said, sliding it out from between the glass panel and wooden baseboard.

  “You mean the clues are the same?” John asked.

  “Yes. It’s against the rules to take someone else’s clue or alter it in any way. If Team Mischief’s teacher found out what they just did, they’d lose points on their grade,” Shaniqua explained.

  They crowded around Annabelle to get a better view.

  “It’s just the letter I. What could it mean?” Annabelle flipped over the piece of paper, but the other side was blank.

  Shaniqua tapped her index finger on the side of her forehead. “I wonder if the I stands for immigration.”

  Raphael reached into his back pocket and pulled out a brochure, which included a map of the museum. “There’s an exhibit in the east wing of the third floor that contains personal items from the immigrants.”

  “Maybe I stands literally for I. You know, like what did I bring to America,” John suggested.

  Annabelle turned in the direction of the staircase that led to the third floor. “It sounds promising. Let’s check it out.”

  When they reached the exhibit, they paused by a glass-enclosed display case. “Neat. It contains their cherished belongings, like Bibles and prayer books,” Annabelle said.

  “Look at that cute teddy bear. It’s just like my grandmother’s. She still has it from when she was a kid,” Shaniqua said.

  John spotted an old book with a dog on the front cover, which reminded him of how much he missed his dog. “If I were an immigrant, I would put one of Ranger’s old dog collars in the display.”

  “I’d put my magnifying glass. I wish I had a reason to use it right now, but honestly, I’m not even sure what we’re looking for up here,” Raphael said.

  They continued searching each display in the exhibit with no success.

  “I hate to admit it, but we might be wasting time here. Maybe the clue isn’t here, and Team Mischief is getting ahead. What else could I stand for?” Annabelle asked.

  “Let me see that clue again. Maybe we missed something,” Shaniqua said.

  John studied the uppercase, block-type letter on the sheet of paper. “Hmmmm. Notice how the letter is shaded in. It’s a pink I. Could it mean ‘pink eye’?”

  Shaniqua clapped her hands. “Of course! Pink eye! As in conjunctivitis.”

  “I had pink eye once. I woke up with my eyes so filled with gunk that they were sealed shut. It’s so contagious that I couldn’t go to school for a couple days, until I had antibiotics,” Raphael said.

  “Pink eye is an inflammation of the inner eyelid and outer surface of the eyeball. My mom read up on it for her mission trip to Africa. She told me that it was a common reason why immigrants weren’t allowed into the country.”

  “Back then, I bet if someone had pink eye, it wasn’t curable. So maybe this clue has something to do
with the medical exam that each immigrant had to undergo,” Raphael suggested.

  “That makes sense. When Ellis Island accepted immigrants, they did a ‘six-second medical exam’ on each person. So they most certainly would have checked peoples’ eyes,” Annabelle said.

  “It sounds like we should go to the area where they performed the medical exams. Does anyone know where that is?” Shaniqua asked.

  “We actually already walked past it. Doctors observed the immigrants climb that big flight of stairs that leads from the first floor to the Registry Room. They watched to see if the people were short of breath or had trouble making it up the stairs. Then they finished the exam at the top of the steps,” Annabelle said.

  “I think we passed a sign about it in the Great Hall,” Raphael said.

  The group followed him to a large informational sign: “The U.S. Public Health Service: Six-Second Specialists.”

  “Maybe this will give us a better idea of what we’re looking for,” Raphael continued.

  Team Liberty skimmed through the information on the placard.

  “Look. It says right here that if the doctor found a sign of disease, he marked the lapel of the immigrant’s clothing with chalk,” Annabelle said.

  “For example, L for lameness or E for eyes,” John added.

  “Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but overhear you. Are you interested in learning more about the chalk markings used by doctors in the six-second medical exam?” an older gentleman wearing green pants and a beige safari shirt asked. The shirt had a patch that included a snow-capped mountain, a sequoia tree, and an American bison.

  Oh, good. A national-park ranger. Seeing a ranger made John think of his dog. He hated to think of him feeling sick. Is he still throwing up? He tried not to think about it and instead concentrated on the ranger’s question.

  “We sure are,” Shaniqua replied. “Could you please tell us about it?”

  “I’d love to. In fact, I have a handout that I can share with you. This sheet lists many of the letters used by the doctors. For example, B stood for back, C for conjunctivitis, and Ct for trachoma.”

  We must be on the right track. But where’s Devlin? Did he already find the next clue? He didn’t have that much of a head start on us.

  “You’ve been incredibly helpful,” Annabelle said. “May we please keep this?”

  “Of course. It’s all yours. Let me know if you have any other questions.” He stepped away, and the four teammates sat down on one of the nearby benches to figure out their next move.

  “If I were a clue, where would I hide?” Shaniqua asked.

  They craned their necks as they studied the room from every angle.

  “How about behind one of those radiators? Or under one of these benches?” John asked.

  “Why don’t you and Shaniqua check the radiators, and Raphael and I will search the benches?” Annabelle stood up, purposely dropped a pen, and knelt to retrieve it while she checked the underside of the nearest bench for a clue.

  John and Shaniqua worked their way around the periphery of the Registry Room, checking behind each of the radiators. When they reached the ones that stood in front of the windows facing New York City, he gazed at the breathtaking skyline. They searched each radiator until they got back to where they started. No luck.

  “I wonder if the immigration inspectors stood behind those very podiums.” Shaniqua pointed toward oak-colored podiums at the west end of the Great Hall.

  “Those podiums are a perfect place to hide a clue,” Annabelle said.

  Raphael slid his hand along the underside of one of the podiums and shuddered. “Yuck, I think I just touched an old wad of gum.” He kept feeling underneath it. “Wait. I’ve got something!” Triumphantly, he pulled a small envelope loose.

  CHAPTER 10

  Team Liberty huddled around the clue. “We’ve been at this for several minutes, but I have no idea what it means.” John frowned as he studied the index card.

  Goiter

  to

  Senility

  of

  Lameness

  Insanity

  Lameness

  Neck

  231

  “There’s only one word per line,” Shaniqua noted.

  “Those words were in that list of chalk marks the ranger gave us.” Annabelle handed the clue to Shaniqua.

  “It looks like someone used those words to create a puzzle. Let’s see. Goiter is G. Senility is S. Lameness is L and Neck is N. Insanity is an X with a circle around it,” Shaniqua said.

  “As in X marks the spot,” Raphael suggested.

  “We need more to go on. Is there writing on the other side too?” John asked.

  “There sure is,” Shaniqua said.

  o

  tatue

  iberty

  ocker

  umber

  “What happens if we match the letter that represents each disease on the front of the card with the partial words on the back of the card?” Raphael asked.

  “If we put the two together, it reads, ‘Go to the Statue of Liberty. X marks the spot. Locker number 231,’” Shaniqua said.

  “Great. Now we know where to go next,” Annabelle said.

  “I’m pretty sure there are lockers at the Statue of Liberty. I remember reading once that you have to put your bags in one before you’re allowed up into the statue,” John said.

  Annabelle glanced at her wristwatch. “It’s getting late and the park is closing for the evening. There’s no way we could get to the Statue of Liberty now. I think our best bet is to go straight there first thing in the morning.”

  Shaniqua nodded in agreement. “We need to check in with Mr. Jorgenson at the school, and I’m sure he’ll want Raphael to see the school nurse. Let’s catch the ferry back.”

  They ambled over to the ferry line. John pulled a juicy red apple from his bag and took a big bite. He glanced around, but there were no signs of Team Mischief.

  Raphael pulled a handful of sour candies from his backpack. “It’s going to be a ten-minute wait for the next ride. It’s nice to be able to relax for a bit.”

  Anxious for news about Ranger, John checked his cell phone for texts from Grandma. There was one: Hi, Sweetie. The vet decided to keep Ranger overnight. I’m sure it’s just a precaution. Please don’t worry.

  John’s stomach dropped. Not worry? How can she tell me to not worry? He must be really sick if the vet decided he has to stay there. Ranger was five years old. He’d never been sick before. Ever.

  He scanned for more texts. No word yet from his parents. They must be still up in the air.

  A large family—parents, grandparents, and four children—got behind them in line. They appeared tired yet happy and content. The father lifted one of the young girls up, twirled her in the air, and set her back on the ground.

  Shaniqua stared at the ground and drew a circle with her big toe. John recalled hearing how Shaniqua’s father had been killed by a drunk driver last year. I bet she’s thinking about her family. Wordlessly, he put an arm around her shoulder.

  A single tear ran down Shaniqua’s face. She wiped it away with the back of her hand. “My dad used to lift me up and swing me around like that.”

  John’s heart filled with sorrow for his new friend. Although his own father would soon be half a world away in Africa, at least he could still text and video-chat with him.

  Shaniqua clutched the cross that she wore around her neck. “Sometimes I wonder why God took him away.”

  Uncertain what to say, John squeezed her shoulder. He couldn’t imagine life without his dad.

  “I’ve been working through it. My mom says that even if your father is walking right next to you, you can still fall, and he won’t be able to catch you in time. However, he’ll help you to stand back up again. She says that’s the way it is with God. He’s always next to us, ready to lift us up when we stumble or fall,” Shaniqua said.

  “So you have faith in His plan?” John asked.

/>   “That’s right. I try not to just pray for what I want but to pray that I may accept His plan and trust that it will all work out in the end.”

  “And I bet it must have been even harder for you to do that when your grandmother had the stroke,” Annabelle said sympathetically.

  “Yes. It helps that my grandma has a strong faith. She feels that God will lead her through this and she’ll come out stronger in the end than she was before.”

  They grew silent as the ferry angled alongside the dock. John thought about all he’d learned about immigrants today. It’s hard to believe about 40 percent of Americans have a relative who passed through Ellis Island. He was about to embark on a ferry ride, just like so many people before him. God, bless immigrants of the past and present. And please bless my friend Shaniqua.

  CHAPTER 11

  They stepped through the mirror portal into an empty school hallway.

  “I wonder if the other teams aren’t back yet or if they already went home for the day,” John said.

  “I’m not sure, but I really want to go home and check on Mr. Gibbons. Mom texted that he really misses me. She said he tried to follow me through the portal again. Ours is in our bathroom, so she finally had to lock the door to keep him out.”

  Annabelle giggled. “If I know Mr. Gibbons, he’ll find a way here.”

  John wasn’t eager to have another run-in with Raphael’s pet monkey. Last time they met, Mr. Gibbons pelted him with wads of wet paper towels. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel them bouncing off his face and body.

  Ranger wouldn’t have caused such a commotion. Thinking of his dog, John checked his cell phone and found a new text from Grandma: We love you. Hopefully, Ranger will be back home with us soon.

  John wished he could be with his dog. He thought back to Shaniqua’s words earlier that day and applied them to his own situation. Why would God let Ranger get sick when I’m not there to help him?

  As Team Liberty approached Mr. Jorgenson’s office, they heard his voice echo out into the hallway. “Yes, we’re aware of the security breach. Yes, we have people working on it. No, nothing that we’re aware of yet.”