think it might be yours.”
Mr. Bell immediately recognized the key. He frowned.
“Gracious!” he said, shaking his head. He went to his front hall closet and reached into his coat pocket. “Sure enough! Now, how did that happen?”
“Happens to me all the time. I’m always losing stuff. But I’m always finding stuff too,” Jack added, trying to sound helpful. “Is it an important key?”
“All keys are important, aren’t they—especially when you’ve lost them,” Mr. Bell answered.
“I figured it was yours because it had
AIC
on it,” Jack added.
“You figured right. But I just can’t imagine how I … Oh well. No harm done, I suppose.” Mr. Bell didn’t sound convinced.
Ruthie worried that he might not buy Jack’s story. Maybe“borrowing” the key was closer to stealing than Jack had been willing to admit. Ruthie decided to change the subject.
“Do you have a favorite—of all this artwork, I mean?” Ruthie asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been around them for so long they’re like old friends. I’m not sure I could single one out.”
“What about the Thorne Rooms—do you have a favorite one of those?” she continued.
“Not really, but if I had to choose, it would be the California room, from the 1940s. It has paintings made by famous artists. Mrs. Thorne asked them to paint in miniature for her. But mostly I like watching people’s reactions when they look into the rooms. What about you—do you have a favorite?”
“I really like the castle rooms,” Jack said. “They’re pretty cool. But Ruthie’s crazy about all of them! Especially the ones with canopy beds, for some reason.”
“My daughter always liked those the best too,” Mr. Bell said to Ruthie with a smile.
“We’d better go,” Ruthie suggested.
As they turned to go to the door, Ruthie saw something hanging in the entrance hall that caught her eye. She thought it must be one of Mr. Bell’s photos, and Mr. Bell confirmed her guess. “It’s one from the series that disappeared. That’s my wife holding Caroline when she was a baby. Luckily, I had traded it to a friend before the others vanished. I had to get it back. It’s one of my most prized possessions.”
“It’s really a nice photograph. Thanks for showing us all of this, Mr. Bell,” she said. “Yeah, thanks,” Jack echoed.
“Thank you, Jack, for returning my key. And say hello to your mother and thank her again for dinner last night,” Mr. Bell said as they stepped into the hall.
“Okay, I will. Bye.” Jack pushed the button for the elevator. They rode down in silence.
Back outside, Ruthie asked, “Do you think he believed us?”
“I’m not sure,” Jack answered. They continued down the alley.
“Look.” Jack pointed to a little mouse scurrying in front of them into one of the sheds. Thinking how small and scared the little creature must feel in the world, Ruthie looked up at the buildings around them. The mouse was so insignificant in the big world, yet Ruthie felt that shrinking made her feel important. This took her mind off how uneasy she was about their visit to Mr. Bell.
As they reached the door to her apartment, Ruthie remembered something.
“Guess what this Tuesday is?” she asked Jack.
“Some president’s birthday?”
“Half day. Teachers’ Institute!” At Oakton, the first Tuesday of the month was always a half day. It was the sort of thing Jack never remembered. They immediately planned to spend it at the museum. But now a new sensation came over Ruthie: an overwhelming feeling of impatience. Sure,she had had to wait for exciting things to happen before in her life. But the weeks before birthdays, vacations, even Christmas or the last day of school never seemed to make her feel quite like this. All she could think about was getting back into the rooms.
By Tuesday Ms. Biddle noticed their distracted attitudes.
“Ruthie, is anything wrong? You haven’t been concentrating at all the last couple of
Mr. Bell immediately recognized the key. He frowned.
“Gracious!” he said, shaking his head. He went to his front hall closet and reached into his coat pocket. “Sure enough! Now, how did that happen?”
“Happens to me all the time. I’m always losing stuff. But I’m always finding stuff too,” Jack added, trying to sound helpful. “Is it an important key?”
“All keys are important, aren’t they—especially when you’ve lost them,” Mr. Bell answered.
“I figured it was yours because it had
AIC
on it,” Jack added.
“You figured right. But I just can’t imagine how I … Oh well. No harm done, I suppose.” Mr. Bell didn’t sound convinced.
Ruthie worried that he might not buy Jack’s story. Maybe“borrowing” the key was closer to stealing than Jack had been willing to admit. Ruthie decided to change the subject.
“Do you have a favorite—of all this artwork, I mean?” Ruthie asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been around them for so long they’re like old friends. I’m not sure I could single one out.”
“What about the Thorne Rooms—do you have a favorite one of those?” she continued.
“Not really, but if I had to choose, it would be the California room, from the 1940s. It has paintings made by famous artists. Mrs. Thorne asked them to paint in miniature for her. But mostly I like watching people’s reactions when they look into the rooms. What about you—do you have a favorite?”
“I really like the castle rooms,” Jack said. “They’re pretty cool. But Ruthie’s crazy about all of them! Especially the ones with canopy beds, for some reason.”
“My daughter always liked those the best too,” Mr. Bell said to Ruthie with a smile.
“We’d better go,” Ruthie suggested.
As they turned to go to the door, Ruthie saw something hanging in the entrance hall that caught her eye. She thought it must be one of Mr. Bell’s photos, and Mr. Bell confirmed her guess. “It’s one from the series that disappeared. That’s my wife holding Caroline when she was a baby. Luckily, I had traded it to a friend before the others vanished. I had to get it back. It’s one of my most prized possessions.”
“It’s really a nice photograph. Thanks for showing us all of this, Mr. Bell,” she said. “Yeah, thanks,” Jack echoed.
“Thank you, Jack, for returning my key. And say hello to your mother and thank her again for dinner last night,” Mr. Bell said as they stepped into the hall.
“Okay, I will. Bye.” Jack pushed the button for the elevator. They rode down in silence.
Back outside, Ruthie asked, “Do you think he believed us?”
“I’m not sure,” Jack answered. They continued down the alley.
“Look.” Jack pointed to a little mouse scurrying in front of them into one of the sheds. Thinking how small and scared the little creature must feel in the world, Ruthie looked up at the buildings around them. The mouse was so insignificant in the big world, yet Ruthie felt that shrinking made her feel important. This took her mind off how uneasy she was about their visit to Mr. Bell.
As they reached the door to her apartment, Ruthie remembered something.
“Guess what this Tuesday is?” she asked Jack.
“Some president’s birthday?”
“Half day. Teachers’ Institute!” At Oakton, the first Tuesday of the month was always a half day. It was the sort of thing Jack never remembered. They immediately planned to spend it at the museum. But now a new sensation came over Ruthie: an overwhelming feeling of impatience. Sure,she had had to wait for exciting things to happen before in her life. But the weeks before birthdays, vacations, even Christmas or the last day of school never seemed to make her feel quite like this. All she could think about was getting back into the rooms.
By Tuesday Ms. Biddle noticed their distracted attitudes.
“Ruthie, is anything wrong? You haven’t been concentrating at all the last couple of
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