trill, a bleat. Thomas ran to the far side of the gallery and returned with the ladder.
The tempo of the clicking increased. Thomas scurried up the ladder, and although it was a rickety perch, Guillaudeu managed to follow him, peeking over the top of the tank from a few rungs below, clinging to the edge of the tank for support.
Cutting through the water was the chalk-white ridged back of a creature swimming in tight circles. So smooth was its motion that it barely broke the water into waves, even though its body was ten feet long and moving fast. The animal stopped in front of the two openmouthed men, raised its bulbous head, and chirped.
“What in the world is that?” Thomas whispered.
Guillaudeu stared at the circling animal.
“Delphinapterus leucas.”
“I’ve never seen anything so … white. And it’s tiny, for a whale.”
“I’ve never seen anything so preposterous!” Guillaudeu’s voice rose. “What does Barnum think he’s doing?”
“How did it get here?” Thomas was still whispering.
“Barnum has people coming and going at all hours of the day and night. He doesn’t tell anybody what he’s doing.” Guillaudeu was barking his words and glaring at the whale. “We don’t even know where he is, for God’s sake. Who will take care of this … monstrosity! Where is the placard to tell visitors how this whale fits into an exhibit, and into the natural order?”
“Do you hear that? It’s making the most extraordinary sounds,” Thomas murmured.
“He hasn’t informed me of what he’s done!” Guillaudeu’s voice broke.
“Look! Look how it swims! It’s frightening to be so close to it, don’t you think? Perhaps it’s harmless.”
“I don’t care!” Guillaudeu shouted. “I am appalled! How did he get it up here? That’s one thing I’d like to know, Mr.Willoughby. But more than that, what I’d really like to know is
why
is it here? Why?”
As he watched the whale swim in circles, Guillaudeu became aware of a different emotion forming on the heels of his dread. If Barnum could produce a whale that twittered like a canary on the top floor of the museum, why in the world should Guillaudeu feel so compelled to explain it? Barnum had accomplished an almost magical feat; the evidence swam in circles just below him. But instead of melting into admiration, or even respect, or at least acceptance, Guillaudeu’s rage flared to such a degree that in order not to be swept entirely away he clung to it harder than ever: The whale was an abomination, an embarrassment to all known rules of scientific exhibition and curatorship.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” The tone of this new, feminine voice gave Guillaudeu the impression that its owner had been standing there for more than a few seconds.
“I am aware that the museum is considered primarily a place of entertainment. And that, indeed, it contains objects, such as this beluga whale, that are here specifically to entertain you.”
Guillaudeu stumbled to extricate himself from what he now saw was a schoolboyish position on the ladder. The woman below him appeared to be particularly large-boned, with a plain, doughy face, a pronounced double chin, and small dark eyes under a broad forehead. She had emerged from a door built into the new wall on the far side of the gallery.
“But as you may or may not know” — the woman continued — “the museum has recently acquired a different function.”
As he returned to the ground, Guillaudeu discovered there was another reason for the woman’s formidable tone. She was close to eight feet tall. Thomas Willoughby remained frozen at the top of the ladder.
“This floor has become something of a hotel.” The giantess waved her hand toward the newly built wall and the opendoor from which she had come. “There are museum employees living in apartments up here, myself included. I’m here to request that you kindly refrain from conducting shouting matches while you’re visiting the fifth floor.
The tempo of the clicking increased. Thomas scurried up the ladder, and although it was a rickety perch, Guillaudeu managed to follow him, peeking over the top of the tank from a few rungs below, clinging to the edge of the tank for support.
Cutting through the water was the chalk-white ridged back of a creature swimming in tight circles. So smooth was its motion that it barely broke the water into waves, even though its body was ten feet long and moving fast. The animal stopped in front of the two openmouthed men, raised its bulbous head, and chirped.
“What in the world is that?” Thomas whispered.
Guillaudeu stared at the circling animal.
“Delphinapterus leucas.”
“I’ve never seen anything so … white. And it’s tiny, for a whale.”
“I’ve never seen anything so preposterous!” Guillaudeu’s voice rose. “What does Barnum think he’s doing?”
“How did it get here?” Thomas was still whispering.
“Barnum has people coming and going at all hours of the day and night. He doesn’t tell anybody what he’s doing.” Guillaudeu was barking his words and glaring at the whale. “We don’t even know where he is, for God’s sake. Who will take care of this … monstrosity! Where is the placard to tell visitors how this whale fits into an exhibit, and into the natural order?”
“Do you hear that? It’s making the most extraordinary sounds,” Thomas murmured.
“He hasn’t informed me of what he’s done!” Guillaudeu’s voice broke.
“Look! Look how it swims! It’s frightening to be so close to it, don’t you think? Perhaps it’s harmless.”
“I don’t care!” Guillaudeu shouted. “I am appalled! How did he get it up here? That’s one thing I’d like to know, Mr.Willoughby. But more than that, what I’d really like to know is
why
is it here? Why?”
As he watched the whale swim in circles, Guillaudeu became aware of a different emotion forming on the heels of his dread. If Barnum could produce a whale that twittered like a canary on the top floor of the museum, why in the world should Guillaudeu feel so compelled to explain it? Barnum had accomplished an almost magical feat; the evidence swam in circles just below him. But instead of melting into admiration, or even respect, or at least acceptance, Guillaudeu’s rage flared to such a degree that in order not to be swept entirely away he clung to it harder than ever: The whale was an abomination, an embarrassment to all known rules of scientific exhibition and curatorship.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” The tone of this new, feminine voice gave Guillaudeu the impression that its owner had been standing there for more than a few seconds.
“I am aware that the museum is considered primarily a place of entertainment. And that, indeed, it contains objects, such as this beluga whale, that are here specifically to entertain you.”
Guillaudeu stumbled to extricate himself from what he now saw was a schoolboyish position on the ladder. The woman below him appeared to be particularly large-boned, with a plain, doughy face, a pronounced double chin, and small dark eyes under a broad forehead. She had emerged from a door built into the new wall on the far side of the gallery.
“But as you may or may not know” — the woman continued — “the museum has recently acquired a different function.”
As he returned to the ground, Guillaudeu discovered there was another reason for the woman’s formidable tone. She was close to eight feet tall. Thomas Willoughby remained frozen at the top of the ladder.
“This floor has become something of a hotel.” The giantess waved her hand toward the newly built wall and the opendoor from which she had come. “There are museum employees living in apartments up here, myself included. I’m here to request that you kindly refrain from conducting shouting matches while you’re visiting the fifth floor.
Similar Books
