trying to scoop them back into their container.
“Sorry, Mrs. Schneiderman,” she said. “They just sorta fell off my desk.”
The tacks had rolled right across the room, and a few had ended up under Clancy’s chair. As he stood up to help, a couple of them lodged themselves in the sole of his left sneaker. Mrs. Schneiderman was trying to regain the attention of her students and rapped her ruler on the wall. Ruby looked up and saw, projected on the screen, a slide showing a simple repeat pattern, the famous Greek key pattern used on pottery, mosaics, and it seemed, almost everything ancient Greek.
“This is a decorative border called
meander,
first used in the Greek Geometric period,” said Mrs. Schneiderman loudly. “The name
meander
conjures up the twisting and turning of the Maeander River. ‘Greek key’ is a modern term used to describe the pattern. It is always useful to remember that, in history, decoration is very rarely purely decorative, it is usually there to symbolize something or convey a message.”
Ruby was suddenly very alert. She reached behind her and felt for the jacket hanging on the back of her chair. Locating the left pocket, she pulled out her notebook containing the little white card — the one from Organic Universe. On it were the six words,
don’t call us we’ll call you,
but it wasn’t the
words
that Ruby was interested in. The thing that got her attention today was the pattern decorating the edge of the card. She had previously overlooked this, considering it to be simply decorative — thus forgetting one of her own rules, RULE 13 in fact, THERE IS MORE TO MOST THINGS THAN MEETS THE EYE .
Now she studied the decorative border carefully. It was made up of interlocking figure eights which repeated all the way around the edge of the card.
“Tomorrow night at eight for eight . . .”
Ruby knew the time was set for eight but what if the destination was also eight?
“Be lucky,“
the voice had said. Why? Why did she need to be lucky?
After school, Clancy and Ruby picked up Bug and biked out to the ocean. Ruby found that watching the husky racing in and out of the waves helped her mind relax, but still she had no answer. It wasn’t until they started off for home that something clicked. Ruby was riding very slowly along the sidewalk. Clancy was on foot; his bike chain had broken and he was telling her about how this oil sheik had been on the way to meet with Clancy’s dad when he ran out of gas.
“Imagine the scene. He is an actual oil baron and he runs out of gas!”
“That’s pretty funny,” said Ruby.
“But that’s not all, his chauffeur flags down this old truck and who does it belong to?” Clancy didn’t wait for her to guess. “Only old Mr. Berris who owns the local gas station, that one that’s closing down due to lack of business. Old Mr. Berris has a spare can, fills up the sheik’s car, and the sheik makes it to dinner on time!”
“That’s really something,” smiled Ruby.
Clancy couldn’t get over the irony of the situation. “Here is a guy with all the fuel he could ever want but he has to borrow a can from some little old guy who is about to close down due to no one buying his gas!”
“He certainly got lucky,” said Ruby, and then she stopped — she had stumbled on the final piece.
“What’s up? What did I say?” asked a bewildered Clancy.
“Sorry, Clance, gotta split. I promise I’ll tell you tomorrow!” she said, steering herself off the curb and back on to the street. “Drop Bug off, would ya,” Ruby called as she turned in the direction of Mountain Road and pedaled like crazy up the hill.
“What?” shouted Clance. “What just happened?”
“I think I just got lucky!” she shouted back.
RUBY PULLED UP AT EXACTLY THE SPOT where she was sure she was meant to be. It was just out of town on Mountain Road, at a place where the road bent around to the left. It was the site of the old gas station. The only thing remaining of it
“Sorry, Mrs. Schneiderman,” she said. “They just sorta fell off my desk.”
The tacks had rolled right across the room, and a few had ended up under Clancy’s chair. As he stood up to help, a couple of them lodged themselves in the sole of his left sneaker. Mrs. Schneiderman was trying to regain the attention of her students and rapped her ruler on the wall. Ruby looked up and saw, projected on the screen, a slide showing a simple repeat pattern, the famous Greek key pattern used on pottery, mosaics, and it seemed, almost everything ancient Greek.
“This is a decorative border called
meander,
first used in the Greek Geometric period,” said Mrs. Schneiderman loudly. “The name
meander
conjures up the twisting and turning of the Maeander River. ‘Greek key’ is a modern term used to describe the pattern. It is always useful to remember that, in history, decoration is very rarely purely decorative, it is usually there to symbolize something or convey a message.”
Ruby was suddenly very alert. She reached behind her and felt for the jacket hanging on the back of her chair. Locating the left pocket, she pulled out her notebook containing the little white card — the one from Organic Universe. On it were the six words,
don’t call us we’ll call you,
but it wasn’t the
words
that Ruby was interested in. The thing that got her attention today was the pattern decorating the edge of the card. She had previously overlooked this, considering it to be simply decorative — thus forgetting one of her own rules, RULE 13 in fact, THERE IS MORE TO MOST THINGS THAN MEETS THE EYE .
Now she studied the decorative border carefully. It was made up of interlocking figure eights which repeated all the way around the edge of the card.
“Tomorrow night at eight for eight . . .”
Ruby knew the time was set for eight but what if the destination was also eight?
“Be lucky,“
the voice had said. Why? Why did she need to be lucky?
After school, Clancy and Ruby picked up Bug and biked out to the ocean. Ruby found that watching the husky racing in and out of the waves helped her mind relax, but still she had no answer. It wasn’t until they started off for home that something clicked. Ruby was riding very slowly along the sidewalk. Clancy was on foot; his bike chain had broken and he was telling her about how this oil sheik had been on the way to meet with Clancy’s dad when he ran out of gas.
“Imagine the scene. He is an actual oil baron and he runs out of gas!”
“That’s pretty funny,” said Ruby.
“But that’s not all, his chauffeur flags down this old truck and who does it belong to?” Clancy didn’t wait for her to guess. “Only old Mr. Berris who owns the local gas station, that one that’s closing down due to lack of business. Old Mr. Berris has a spare can, fills up the sheik’s car, and the sheik makes it to dinner on time!”
“That’s really something,” smiled Ruby.
Clancy couldn’t get over the irony of the situation. “Here is a guy with all the fuel he could ever want but he has to borrow a can from some little old guy who is about to close down due to no one buying his gas!”
“He certainly got lucky,” said Ruby, and then she stopped — she had stumbled on the final piece.
“What’s up? What did I say?” asked a bewildered Clancy.
“Sorry, Clance, gotta split. I promise I’ll tell you tomorrow!” she said, steering herself off the curb and back on to the street. “Drop Bug off, would ya,” Ruby called as she turned in the direction of Mountain Road and pedaled like crazy up the hill.
“What?” shouted Clance. “What just happened?”
“I think I just got lucky!” she shouted back.
RUBY PULLED UP AT EXACTLY THE SPOT where she was sure she was meant to be. It was just out of town on Mountain Road, at a place where the road bent around to the left. It was the site of the old gas station. The only thing remaining of it
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