Time Castaways #1

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Time Castaways #1 Page 5

by Liesl Shurtliff


  Matt felt all the more uneasy. The knots in his stomach tightened again. “What is going on?” said Matt, addressing the man in black. “Who are you?”

  “Captain Vincent at your service!” He bowed formally at the waist. The white rat stared eerily down at them.

  “Captain?” asked Corey. “Captain of what?”

  “Why the ship, of course! The Vermillion is the finest ship in the world! There’s not another one like her.”

  The three children looked at each other. They had definitely gotten on the crazy train, and Matt felt he would have to handle this situation delicately.

  “Captain Vincent, sir,” he said. “I’m afraid we’ve made a terrible mistake—”

  The train suddenly lurched. Matt pitched forward and caught himself on a table.

  “Ah, I do believe we are arriving,” said the captain. He pulled back one of the lacy curtains from the window.

  Matt looked outside and his heart did a little leap. He couldn’t see all that well, but they were clearly above ground. The train was passing over a river lined with the dark silhouette of trees hanging over the riverbank. Maybe they had traveled upstate? This could be the Hudson River.

  “I’m going to try to call Mom,” Ruby whispered. She pulled the phone out of her bag, opened it, and groaned. “Rats! No reception.”

  The white rat hissed at Ruby. Apparently he didn’t like to be used as an expletive.

  “Turn it off so we don’t drain the battery,” said Matt.

  Ruby pressed the power button and put the phone in her backpack.

  The train slowed and eventually came to a stop. The doors opened, and all the passengers filed out. Captain Vincent motioned for them to follow. “Come on! You don’t want to miss all the fun!”

  “We’d better get off now,” said Matt. “We can ditch these crazies and get a taxi. Corey might still have enough cash for that.”

  “So much for churros,” Corey grumbled, and they all stepped off the train.

  The air was balmy, warmer than it had been that morning, and the sky was a deep periwinkle. Not a trace of cloud. It was also incredibly quiet. It seemed impossible to Matt that this could be anywhere in Manhattan, which was always bustling no matter the day or hour. But how far could they have traveled in just a few minutes?

  Ruby tugged on Matt’s sleeve. “Where are we?” she whispered.

  Matt tried to get his bearings. His father would tell him to look for familiar landmarks and numbered streets and businesses. You could always find your way home if you had a reference point, but he couldn’t see any street signs.

  A horse-drawn carriage rolled by them, the driver in tails and a top hat. Well, that wasn’t so out of place. There were plenty of horse-drawn carriages in New York, for all the tourists, especially around Central Park, but they were usually open carriages, and this one was closed. Inside the carriage were several women speaking a foreign language. He listened a moment more and detected they were speaking French. He couldn’t hear all the words, but something about a party and a certain madame’s ugly dress. Their laughter bubbled out the window, and then one woman stuck out her head and directed the driver to take them to some hotel on a street he did not recognize at all. Her hair was done up in elaborate curls with a bushy feather sticking out the top. They must be going to a costume party, he thought, or maybe they were filming a historical movie.

  Matt looked around at all the buildings, none of which were familiar, until his eyes landed on one tall tower that stood above all the rest, right in the middle of the city. It took him a moment for his brain to register what he was seeing. He knew that building well. He’d seen many pictures of it, but not anywhere in New York. Ruby saw it at the same time. Her eyes bugged out of their sockets, and her mouth formed a perfect O.

  “Is that the Eiffel Tower?” said Corey.

  “Clever lad,” said Captain Vincent. “Welcome to Paris, year 1911!”

  “Huh?” they all said at the same time.

  Matt’s mind raced. He had to be dreaming. No matter the year, there was no way they had traveled all the way to Paris! They would have had to cross the ocean at the speed of light.

  The captain came up behind them and draped his arms over Corey and Matt and motioned for Ruby to come closer.

  “Now,” whispered Captain Vincent. “As this is your first mission, you won’t be expected to do much. Just stay close to me and the crew, and I promise you’ll have the time of your life.”

  “But what exactly are we doing?” Matt asked.

  “Nearly time, Captain,” said the man in the plaid suit and fedora, consulting a gold pocket watch on a chain.

  “Thank you, Wiley. Brocco? Our supplies and disguises, if you please?”

  The man in the cape and Yankees cap appeared at the train door, holding a bulging linen sack. He tossed it so it landed at the captain’s feet. “Carry that, will you, Albert?” The captain addressed the boy about Matt’s age. He was a bit on the pudgy side with round cheeks, an upturned nose, and wire-framed glasses that looked too small for his face, like he’d gotten them when he was half the size he was now.

  “Me? Why not the new recruits?” said the boy. “You always say new recruits have to do the grunt work.”

  “Now, now, Albert,” said the captain. “They’re not new recruits yet, they’re still our guests. Let’s be polite, shall we? Show them a good time?”

  Albert didn’t move at first. He held his head high and his nostrils flared, making him look somewhat like a pig wearing glasses, but the captain waited, perfectly calm and still, until Albert finally dropped his head and said, “Yes, sir.” He picked up the bundle and slung it over his shoulder. He seemed to sink under the weight of it.

  “Thank you, Albert,” the captain said. “I always know I can count on you.”

  Albert straightened a little and lifted his chin.

  “Let’s be off,” said the captain. “Don’t want to be late!”

  “Late for what?” Corey asked, but no one answered, and Matt felt they had no choice but to follow.

  Matt was still trying to figure out what they should do next when the girl who had been sitting next to Albert on the train walked up alongside Matt. She smiled at him. “Hi, I’m Jia,” she whispered.

  “Matt,” said Matt.

  “Nice to meet you, and don’t worry. We’ll be perfectly safe. The captain knows what he’s doing.” She had a strange sort of accent, as though she had learned to speak English from several different dialects and accents. She was Asian, and Matt was pretty sure Chinese. He wondered if she spoke Mandarin. It would be good to get some practice with a native speaker, but he figured now was not the time.

  The strange group walked quickly and quietly down cobblestoned streets lined with shops and buildings built tightly together, until the streets opened up to a large square with a magnificent structure—a castle. And not just any castle. Matt was sure it was the Louvre, except it did not have the glass pyramid he’d seen in so many pictures. Yes, I’m dreaming, he thought. Only in a dream would I see the Louvre without the glass pyramid.

  “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” whispered Jia. “I’ve never been to this museum.”

  “Why are we here?” Matt asked.

  “Because,” said Jia, “we need to steal la Joconde.”

  La Joconde. It sounded familiar. He knew it was French, but Matt couldn’t quite place it.

  “La what?” Corey asked.

  “Oh, that’s not what they call it in English. I forget. Albert, what do they call la Joconde in English?”

  “The Mona Lisa,” said Albert.

  “That’s it. The Mona Lisa.” Jia smiled at them and kept walking.

  5

  Stealing the Mona Lisa

  6:35 a.m., August 21, 1911

  Paris, France

  The three Hudsons stared at Jia, not sure they had heard her correctly. We’re about to steal the Mona Lisa? The Mona Lisa? She had spoken in such a matter-of-fact tone that belied no fear o
r apprehension, nor any sense that stealing one of the world’s most famous paintings was in any way wrong.

  “We’re going to what?” Ruby squealed.

  “Shh! If you keep blubbering we will fail the mission,” hissed Albert. “And I for one don’t want to spend the rest of my life in stinking Paris. Foul, dirty city.”

  “Step lightly, crew!” said the captain, and everyone followed him down the dark street.

  “What do we do?” Ruby whispered in a frantic voice to Matt and Corey. What could be done? They could call the police, but their phone wasn’t working. Of course if they really were in Paris in 1911, who could they call anyway? Matt was so confused and disoriented, but whether this was a dream or not, he knew he needed to think clearly and keep them all out of danger.

  “Just go along with it,” said Matt. “If anything happens . . .” He didn’t have a plan for if anything happened. “If anything happens, we stick together.” He held out his fist. Corey and Ruby both made one too, and they did their three-way fist bump.

  A moment later they were huddled with the captain and crew in the shadows of one of the many arches of the museum. The captain took the sack from Albert and pulled out what looked like white smocks worn by artists or bakers.

  “This is what the cleaning crew wears.” He passed them out. Everyone pulled the smocks over their clothes and buttoned them. Corey’s was a little short in the arms and Ruby’s covered her hands, so they traded and then they fit just fine. Matt pulled a smock on as the captain passed around some feather dusters and rags. Lastly, the captain pulled a coil of rope out of the sack and swung it over his shoulder.

  At that very moment, footsteps sounded on the cobbles and the captain pulled them deeper into the shadows. He put a finger to his lips and peered around the archway. Unable to hold in his curiosity, Matt craned his neck to get a glimpse. A man in a white smock much like theirs approached the museum.

  “That’s our man, Peruggia,” whispered the captain.

  “Who’s he?” whispered Ruby.

  “The mastermind criminal about to steal the Mona Lisa.”

  Matt didn’t think the man looked like a mastermind criminal, though what a mastermind criminal was supposed to look like, he didn’t know. Peruggia was a small man, probably not even as tall as Corey. He had dark hair, beady eyes, and a thick mustache that swept up either side of his cheeks. He looked to his right, his left, then behind him, and he finally approached a door just two arches away. He opened it and entered.

  “All right, places, everyone,” said the captain. Jia and Albert immediately sprang into action. They ran toward the entrance where Peruggia had just entered. The captain waited until they heard some kind of clicking noise, which must have been Jia’s signal that the coast was clear. “You three,” said the captain, pointing to the Hudsons, “come with me.” The captain walked swiftly to the door.

  “Maybe we should run now,” said Ruby. “We can go to the police.”

  “And tell them what?” said Corey. “We accidentally got on the wrong train in New York and it took us to Paris instead of Central Park? Oh, and a hundred years too early.”

  “You don’t honestly believe—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Matt whispered. “We’re definitely not near home, and I think our best chance to get back is to follow this Captain Whoever.”

  “Captain Vincent,” said Ruby. “He’s waving for us to come.”

  Matt took a breath. This was all insane. “Let’s go.”

  They ran to the door where Captain Vincent was waiting, then quietly slipped inside.

  Matt had spent countless hours inside the Metropolitan Museum, but never after hours, with no other patrons. The Louvre was dimly lit and ghostly quiet. He felt as though he had entered a tomb full of sleeping things that might wake at the slightest noise. They passed beneath grand archways and corridors that seemed to extend for miles. The pale morning light filtered through the windows, casting long shadows on the walls and floors.

  “Keep up,” whispered the captain. They hurried up a staircase and turned right, entering a wide space filled with marble statues. They lined the walls and dotted the floor like sentinels in silent watch. Matt got goose bumps as he passed them, feeling their stone eyes were somehow following him.

  The captain stopped them just before a wide marble staircase. He crouched behind one of the pillars and put his finger to his mouth. Peruggia was still ascending the stairs. When he reached the top, he looked over his shoulder then turned left. The captain motioned for them to follow. They turned left at the top of the stairs, turned left again, and then again. The captain held his hand out to stop them, then silently pointed to a doorway. They peered around the frame into a large room. Magnificent oil paintings hung from floor to ceiling, some huge murals that covered the expanse of the entire wall.

  “There she is,” the captain whispered, pointing to their left. In the middle of the wall was the Mona Lisa.

  Somehow Matt had always imagined the Mona Lisa to be as big as he was, but compared to the rest, it seemed rather small and unassuming. The painting hung at the lowest point on the wall, just above some brass railings. There wasn’t anything in front of it, no glass case or any kind of alarm. There were no guards around, or any other museum staff. Crazy, Matt thought. This would never happen at the Met, at least not in 2019. They wouldn’t have been able to get one step into the building without setting off an alarm, and there would have been night guards for sure.

  Peruggia was casually dusting the frames of other paintings until he came to the Mona Lisa. With a quick glance to his left and right, he very easily took the painting off the wall, placed it under one arm, and made a beeline in their direction. Captain Vincent pulled the children back. They hid behind another statue. Peruggia came out with the painting and went into a door just to the side of where they were hiding. Peruggia very quickly popped the painting out of its protective glass frame and hid it behind a bunch of other paintings stacked haphazardly against the wall. He then descended the stairs.

  “What’s he doing?” Ruby whispered.

  “Trying to open the door at the bottom of the stairs,” whispered the captain. “Our time has come. Quickly now.”

  Matt’s heart pounded as they entered the stairway. Captain Vincent retrieved the painting and quickly shoved it into Matt’s arms. Matt staggered back, trying to grasp it in some proper way. But what way was that? He was holding the Mona Lisa! He didn’t think there was a proper way to hold the most famous painting in the world. He shouldn’t be holding it at all!

  Captain Vincent took the bag that had carried their smocks and pulled it over the painting, then took it back from Matt and swung it over his shoulder.

  There was a clang from the bottom of the stairs.

  “Stupido! Idiota!”

  The captain motioned for them to move out. “Quickly now. Peruggia will come this way in just a moment.” They left through the door from which they had entered. Matt could hear a racket behind him, the clatter of someone rifling through paintings and frames.

  “Dov’è lei? Dov’è lei?”

  Peruggia must be searching for the painting in the stack where he had left it. Matt glanced at it swinging over the captain’s shoulders.

  They had reached the staircase, but Matt, as usual, wasn’t watching his step, so he missed the first stair. He called out as he went flying forward, toppled down the staircase, and finally stopped himself halfway down. There was a rush of footsteps behind him.

  “Matt! Are you okay?” Ruby’s voice echoed through the empty, quiet museum.

  Matt sat up, wincing. He didn’t think he’d hurt himself too badly.

  “Can you stand?” said the captain, holding out his hand. “We must hurry.” But it was too late. Peruggia had come running at the noise and was now looking down at them from the top of the staircase. He took in the scene and comprehended all in half a second. His dark eyes narrowed on the rectangular sack swinging from the captain’s shoulder.
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  “Now we really must hurry.” The captain pulled Matt by the arm and yanked him upright as he hurried down the steps. Matt barely got his feet underneath him in time to keep from falling again.

  “Ladro! Stop!” called Peruggia behind him.

  “This way!” the captain said, and instead of going straight back the way they had come he turned to the left down another corridor. Statues and paintings whirred past Matt’s vision. His heart pummeled in his chest. He glanced back for a brief moment to see Peruggia in hot pursuit. He was small but fast. The captain made a turn at every opportunity, effectively getting themselves lost, but Peruggia managed to keep up. The captain finally came to a door and tried to open it, but it was locked. He swore under his breath.

  “Stairs!” said Corey, pointing behind them. There was another marble staircase leading upward. The captain didn’t hesitate for a moment. “Go!” He shoved Ruby, then Corey, then Matt toward the staircase. “Find a place to hide!” They all bolted up the staircase, Matt in the rear. He hung back just enough to see the captain swing the painting and hit Peruggia square in the jaw with a solid thwack! He kicked up his leg and shoved him in the chest. Peruggia staggered backward and fell as the captain surged up the staircase two steps at a time. “Go, go, go!”

  They ran all the way to the top of the staircase until it ended and opened up to a spacious gallery with elaborate murals all over the walls and ceilings and bright, arched windows, but no statues or furniture that could possibly hide them.

  Hurried footsteps echoed up the stairs. The captain ran his hands through his hair, looking in both directions of the corridor, but both seemingly led to nowhere.

  “There!” Matt pointed. “That window is open!” The captain pushed them toward the window. He stuck his head out and looked right and left, then motioned for the children to crawl through. Matt hopped through the window onto a balcony lined with statues and a low stone railing.

  Ruby and Corey came through the window, followed by the captain, who quickly pulled the window shut. Matt, Corey, and Ruby crouched low, pressing themselves against the outer wall of the museum. The captain, however, went right to the stone railing, swung the coil of rope off his shoulder, and began to tie one end of it around one of the pillars.

 

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