“Welcome home!” he shouted, beaming at his children. Oliver and Celia stared back at him with exhausted faces. Beverly was asleep on Oliver’s head.
“We took a taxi from the airport,” Celia said.
“Oh yes, of course!” their father answered, fumbling to find his wallet. “I would have picked you up myself, but there was a problem with the Mbuti diorama at the museum and then I had to cook dinner, and that took a few tries, and I wasn’t quite sure when your flight landed, and I …” He was still muttering excuses as he rushed past them to go downstairs and pay the taxi driver.
Oliver and Celia came right inside and flopped down face-first on the sofa. Beverly took over Dr. Navel’s armchair in the corner.
“It must have been extraordinary to see Machu Picchu at night!” Dr. Navel exclaimed as he came back into the apartment. “Some scholars say the city was planned as an earthly mirror to the Milky Way.”
Then he saw the twins, sound asleep without having touched their dinner. He was dying to hear about Oliver and Celia’s adventures—how they had nearly been impaled in Machu Picchu, how they had ridden a llama all the way to the capital city and caught a flight home on a military transport, and most of all, what they had learned about their mother and the Lost Library. Even though they had been gone for over a month doing hard labor for a very bad man, their father seemed to think it had been an enriching experience for them, like summer camp.
He wondered if he should let them sleep. He imagined they would be hungry, though. They had to eat. He coughed. He coughed again. Neither of them moved. He tried to move Beverly off of his chair and she hissed at him.
“Careful,” Oliver muttered with his face still pressed into the sofa cushion. “She’ll bite.” Then he went back to sleep.
Dr. Navel had one more idea. He turned on the TV. A rerun of Dancing with My Impersonator was on.
“Sorry, Corey Two, but you’ve been voted off!” The host smiled as a sad Corey Brandt impersonator wept into his hands. “The audience thought you were too tall and too old and too not Corey Brandt. Better luck next time!”
Celia and Oliver sat bolt upright.
“Is that—?” Oliver asked.
“Do we have—?” Celia wondered.
“Did we get—?” Oliver tried again.
“Is it cable?” Celia blurted.
Oliver smiled and shoved a forkful of mac and cheese into his mouth.
“I … um …” Dr. Navel blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. He looked down at the floor.
Oliver froze with his spoon in his mouth.
“Ooo sed wud et cahoo!” Oliver shouted through his mac and cheese, which either meant “You said we’d get cable” or “Who said we’re in cahoots?”
The second one wouldn’t make much sense, but Dr. Navel looked like he was thinking about it.
“You didn’t get us cable, did you?” Celia flopped back onto the couch cushions. She knew what her brother had said.
“You … gulp … promised!” said Oliver, swallowing.
“I know, guys,” their father apologized. “I meant to call the cable company, but I got distracted trying to figure out where your mother might have gone after she left Tibet. I kept finding this strange key symbol and the summer just got away from me.”
Their father didn’t know about the Mnemones or what that mysterious symbol meant. Their mother thought it would be safer if he didn’t know. If Oliver and Celia had thought about telling their father before, now they were really angry and definitely weren’t going to tell him anything.
“This is an injustice!” Celia exclaimed. She nodded at her brother.
“Uh-huh!” he shouted. “Injustice!”
“I know, I know.” Dr. Navel shook his head. “It’s just that I was so close to finding your mother. I thought that maybe, while you were gone, I’d find her again and she’d be here by the time you got back. I found three new species of dust mites living in old books, but nothing to help me find your mother. I’m sorry.”
“Do not fear, dear Navels!” Professor Rasmali-Greenberg exclaimed as he burst into the apartment.
Professor Rasmali-Greenberg was the president of the Explorers Club and one of the most famous explorers in the world. He was considered a prince in several countries, a god in others, and had been banned from ever visiting the state of Minnesota again.
He was a very large man, and he had the world’s largest collection of ties with ducks on them. Today, he was wearing a green one with orange ducks on it. He was also wearing a ring with a jeweled key on it. He was a Mnemone, just like their mother.
“Anticipating your return, I took the liberty of scheduling an appointment with the cable company to come tomorrow between the hours of ten a.m. and midnight. If all goes well, you will have cable TV installed while you are at school. Is that all right?”
Oliver and Celia considered this for a moment.
“Fine,” Celia said, scowling.
“Fine,” Oliver said, scowling too.
“Now, please tell us what you learned in South America,” the professor asked, flopping his considerable bulk on the couch between Oliver and Celia. “Did you—ahem—do the summer reading I gave you?”
“Well, we meant to, but—,” Celia began to make an excuse.
“You didn’t read the books I gave you?” the professor cried.
“We were a little busy with spear-shooting death traps and stuff,” Celia said.
“This is terrible. It was not supposed to happen like this at all.” He stood again and began pacing back and forth, rubbing his fingers on his forehead like he had a terrible headache. “Oh dear … oh dear. I’m so sorry. So sorry.”
“What’s the matter, Professor?” Dr. Navel asked.
“Children, you really should have done your summer reading. It would have saved you no end of difficulty.”
“What are you saying?” Dr. Navel asked again.
The professor grabbed their backpack from behind the couch and rummaged through it.
“Hey, that’s ours!” Oliver objected, but the professor ignored him and pulled out two small books: A History of the Great Scribes of Alexandria by Claire S. Navel, PhD, and A Guide to South American Flora and Fauna by Ogden Navel, PhD. These were the books the professor had given them to read before they went off with Sir Edmund, that they hadn’t so much as taken out of the bag.
He opened the History of the Great Scribes to reveal that every page was the same. Every page had one sentence typed neatly in the center:
DON’T TOUCH THE MOPS.
Then he opened the Guide to South American Flora and Fauna.
“Apologies, Ogden,” he said as he showed that the book was hollow. There was a hole cut into where the pages should be, and from the hole he pulled out a small plastic game with little pegs and discs: Peggo Deluxe Travel Edition.
“Huh?” Oliver said.
“Huh?” Dr. Navel said.
“You knew about that death trap!” Celia shouted.
“I tried to warn you. I tried to help. I thought you’d at least open one of these books out of curiosity.”
“But we aren’t curious about anything!” shouted Oliver.
“Why didn’t you just tell us?” said Celia. “Why do explorers always hide the important stuff?”
The professor just shrugged. It was like asking why tigers have stripes.
“How was travel Peggo supposed to help?” Dr. Navel asked. “I’m terribly confused.”
“I had been informed that Edmund would go to the abode of the last priests of the Inca sooner or later, and I thought that maybe, if I could warn you, you’d be safe. He, of course, would not be. Sadly, I underestimated your dislike for reading.”
“You were informed?” Celia asked.
“I did not get to be president of the Explorers Club because of my tie collection, you know. I have informants all over the world,” the professor answered.
“But we were nearly killed!” Celia shouted. “Couldn’t you
have informed us?”
“Well, Celia, I thought I had. I thought children loved summer reading. I was obviously mistaken.”
“Excuse me,” Dr. Navel interrupted. “Could someone please tell me what is going on?”
“Your children are upset because I accidentally almost killed them with spear-throwing mummies in a death trap,” the professor said. “But I had a good reason.”
10
WE CHANGE CHANNELS
CELIA COULDN’T BELIEVE her ears.
“A death trap?” Dr. Navel asked. “Why?”
He almost accidentally killed his children all the time in the far-off places of the world, but he was their father. He wasn’t so sure he liked it when other people almost accidentally killed his children.
“I thought I could free them from Sir Edmund,” Professor Rasmali-Greenberg said. “And in the process, protect the Inca’s Itinerary.”
“What’s that?” asked Oliver. Celia glared at him. “I mean … whatever,” he added and turned toward the TV.
Celia turned up the volume. She didn’t want to get caught up in another quest for another artifact and she didn’t want Oliver getting caught up either. They had sixth grade to worry about, and no cable television, and no mother, and that was enough for two kids to handle. No more mysteries. No more adventures.
The Celebrity Adventurist had come on. Corey Brandt was standing in front of a giant redwood tree.
“Last week we learned that quicksand isn’t all that dangerous as long as you don’t panic. We also learned the hard way not to eat wild mushrooms off the ground. Today we’re leaving the ground altogether to learn what it takes to survive for a whole week in the treetops of a giant redwood forest.” He smiled and patted the thick trunk behind him.
“How would anyone get stuck in the treetops of a giant redwood forest for a week?” Professor Rasmali-Greenberg wondered aloud, interrupting his own train of thought.
“Shh,” Celia snapped. She was happy just looking at Corey Brandt’s smile. He didn’t need to make any sense. Oliver thought Corey Brandt might just be the coolest guy in the world. His new show was reality TV. He wasn’t acting. He wasn’t using a stuntman. It was just Corey Brandt on his own, in the wilderness with a camera and his wits, and he was about to climb a really big tree.
“Professor … the Inca’s Itinerary?” Dr. Navel said.
“Ah yes, well, some time ago I found myself in Machu Picchu, investigating the myth of El Dorado, the Lost City of Gold.”
Celia turned up the volume on the TV. She didn’t want to hear this nonsense. She knew that an itinerary was a plan for a journey, and she didn’t like the sound of that. Journeys and investigations were bad news for Oliver and Celia Navel. And lost cities were even worse.
“It was there that I discovered a room of hidden khipu …” The professor had to raise his voice to talk over the television.
Celia turned it up again.
“These trees are the killer whales of the arboreal world. I’ve never felt more unsafe!” Corey Brandt was hugging the high branch of a tree, straining to tie a rope around his waist. His hands were shaking. The camera cut to a close-up. “Remember, the first rule of thumb for any survival scenario: Try not to hurt your thumb.”
“I believe one of the khipu,” the professor had to shout over the television, “was the Inca Itinerary, hidden from the Spanish Inquisition in Machu Picchu.”
“Were you able to break the code of the khipu?” Dr. Navel shouted over the television.
“I was not. I took it with me and left this trap in its place. But the golden cord implies the path to El Dorado might be contained in its—”
Celia turned the TV up again. “Being tangled in vines is like being stuck in quicksand,” Corey Brandt told his audience, while he was tangled in an impossible mess of vines. “If you panic and squirm, you make it worse.”
“CELIA!” Dr. Navel turned to his daughter.
“What?” Celia asked, smiling innocently. Oliver mirrored her smile. They knew exactly how to drive their father insane.
“Could you please turn down the television?”
“Of course,” Celia said as she turned down the television. “Could you please not involve us in any more deadly adventures? We have sixth grade starting tomorrow.”
“Don’t you want to know anything about this place?” their father pleaded as the TV volume went down. His shoulders slumped and his glasses slid down his nose. “It nearly killed you. Aren’t you at all interested in knowing why? Aren’t you interested in anything other than TV? Don’t you want to find your mother?”
“Maybe Mom doesn’t want to be found!” Celia snapped at her father, startling everyone in the room. “Maybe she cares more about old libraries and lost cities and weird mysteries than she does about us!”
Celia turned her back to the TV again and crossed her arms. Oliver started to speak but stopped himself. Celia glowered at him, boiling with anger. Oliver’s lower lip quivered.
“We have school tomorrow,” Celia added, and looked at the floor.
“School, right …” Their father let his voice trail off. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and kept his gaze fixed on the back of Celia and Oliver’s heads.
“Perhaps we should adjourn to the Great Hall,” the professor suggested after a very long silence.
“Yes … adjourn …,” Dr. Navel said, still looking at his children. He followed Professor Rasmali-Greenberg out of the apartment. Just as he reached the door, he turned back and spoke to Oliver and Celia. “Make sure you brush your teeth and go to bed when your show is over. And”—he cleared his throat—“I … you know … I think that …” He rubbed his hand along the door frame, searching for the right words to say. “I’m sorry for everything that’s happened. I love you.”
“Love you too,” the children said absently as they stared at the screen. Corey Brandt was trying to catch a squirrel in a trap made of dental floss, but neither of the twins was really watching.
When they were alone, Oliver spoke.
“The professor just thought he was trying to help. He thought he would get Sir Edmund with that trap.”
“Well, we don’t need his help,” Celia said. “His kind of help is bad for our life expectancy. I’d like to reach twelve.”
“Do you think the professor will tell Dad about the Mnemones, and, you know, our destiny?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think he has that khipu Sir Edmund was looking for?”
“I don’t know,” Celia said again.
“Do you think Mom is in El Dorado?”
Celia just shrugged. She was still staring at the screen, but there were tears on her cheeks.
“Do you really think Mom won’t ever come back?”
“I don’t know!” Celia snapped. “Okay? I. Don’t. Know!”
She was fed up. Oliver’s curiosity was just the kind of thing that would send them off on another adventure, and adventures always ended up with missed television, lizard bites, and a lot of disappointment. Some things stayed lost for a reason, Celia thought. There wasn’t any point in looking for things that didn’t want to be found.
“Listen,” she said. “The more we know, the worse things always get for us.”
“But what were they talking about? What’s an itinerary?”
“It’s a plan for a trip, Oliver! A trip! An adventure! Do you really want to know more than that? The last time you wanted to know something, we got thrown out of an airplane into Tibet … by our own mother. You want to do that again?”
“She was trying to protect us.”
“So was the professor, and look how that went.”
“I mean, The Celebrity Adventurist is almost over. There’s nothing on TV now anyway. We might as well …”
Corey Brandt was rappelling down a giant redwood on a rope he’d cut from tree bark in a harness padded with leaves. It made Celia think about when she rappelled down that chimney in Machu Picchu. She wondered
if Corey Brandt would be impressed that she knew how to rappel.
“I’m going to look,” Oliver said, and he picked up the remote control. He started to press the buttons in different combinations. The channel changed to a commercial for snack cakes. Then to another.
“Do you even remember how to do it?” Celia asked.
“Just gimme a second.”
“You’re doing it wrong!” she said, and reached out to grab the remote. “If you’re going to make us do this, at least do it right!”
“Hold on, I almost got it!” He kept pressing buttons and the channels kept flipping between commercials.
The TV blared: “Velma Sue’s snack cakes, now in lemon-ginger cream!”
And then: “Our cakes are wholesome because the towns that make them are wholesome. Try a Velma Sue’s snack cake today.”
And: “This is not your grandmother’s snack cake!”
“I heard that Velma Sue’s snack cakes blow up if you put them in water,” said Oliver.
“That’s just a myth,” said Celia. “You can’t believe everything you hear.”
“I saw it on the local news,” Oliver said.
“Then it’s definitely not true,” said Celia as Oliver kept flipping from commercial to commercial. Beverly blinked at the TV. She liked Velma Sue’s snack cakes as much as Oliver did.
“Just give me the remote!” Celia lunged for it, and just as she did, Oliver pulled the remote away so that Celia ended up smacking him in the face.
“Ouch,” he said.
“Your own fault.”
Oliver rubbed his cheek where she’d hit him. “It worked, didn’t it?” He pointed at the TV screen.
WELCOME TO TABLET 2.0, the TV screen read. THE COMPLETE CATALOG OF THE GREAT LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA.
This was the souvenir their mother had given them the last time she left them, back in Tibet. It wasn’t a T-shirt and it wasn’t a knickknack or bric-a-brac or a tchotchke. It wasn’t a fanged spirit mask of the Liberian chimpanzee devil.
It was a universal remote control that could access the complete catalog of the Lost Library of Alexandria—every book and scroll and mysterious treasure that had been hidden there since the library was founded over two thousand years ago. Right on the TV screen.
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