Jewel of the East

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Jewel of the East Page 3

by Ann Hood


  From somewhere down the hall, he heard a soft whimpering. He paused and listened. Yes, it was definitely the sound of someone crying.

  “Hello?” he called into the emptiness.

  The crying stopped.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  No answer.

  Felix walked in the direction the sound had come from. At the end of the hall, he saw that the light was on in the supply closet and the door stood ajar. Carefully, he pulled it open. There, among the reams of printer paper, lined paper, math paper, construction paper, and manila paper sat Lily Goldberg.

  At the sound of the door creaking open, Lily looked up, her face wet with tears and her eyes puffy from crying.

  But her voice was strong and angry as she said, “Get out of here! Now!”

  Felix yanked the door shut, but he didn’t walk away. Instead, he pressed his cheek to it and said, “What’s wrong, Lily?”

  “None of your business,” she said, just as angrily. “Go away!”

  He hesitated. “I can’t leave you in a closet crying,” he said.

  “I’m not crying,” she said, then began a new round of sobs.

  Felix opened the door again. Lily had her face in her hands, her short, dark hair sticking up on her head and her short fingernails covered in chipped, baby-blue polish. She was wearing her dress with the teacup pattern and a pair of scuffed, black Doc Martens. Felix thought he had never seen a more beautiful sight. Except for the crying.

  “Lily?” he said.

  “What are you doing here, anyway? It’s like seven o’clock,” she said without looking up.

  “Putting up my campaign posters,” Felix said. “For student council,” he added.

  Slowly, she lifted her head. The smell of mothballs and fruity shampoo filled the air.

  “What are you doing here?” Felix asked her.

  “I don’t want my parents to see me cry, so when I feel sad I come to school early and hide in here so I can cry in peace.”

  She glared at him.

  “If you tell anyone about this,” Lily said, “I’ll kill you.”

  “Okay,” Felix said.

  He started to walk away, but Lily called after him. “Come back here,” she said.

  Felix did. When Lily moved to make space for him on the floor of the closet, he squeezed in next to her.

  “Maybe you’ll understand,” she said thoughtfully. “I mean, you had to leave New York, right?”

  Felix nodded.

  “See,” Lily said, her perplexed eyes gazing away from him, “I was born in China, you know? And my parents, the ones who adopted me, are great. They are. That’s why I come in here to cry, so they won’t hear me. I love them and everything. But I have this…” Her slender fingers plucked lightly at the front of her dress. “This hole in me. This ache.”

  Lily glanced at Felix as if to gauge his reaction. He nodded.

  “I just wish I could go back there. To China. And see where I came from, you know? Maybe even see my birth parents.” She paused. “You probably think that’s totally dumb, right?”

  “No,” Felix said. “Not at all. My father lives halfway across the world, and every day I wish I could see him.”

  “He does?” Lily said.

  “Qatar,” Felix told her.

  She nodded, clearly impressed.

  “Want some help hanging your posters?” Lily asked softly.

  “Yes,” Felix said. He stood and held out his hand to help her to her feet.

  Side by side, they hung the posters along the sixth-grade corridor, outside the cafeteria, on the preapproved campaign bulletin board in the library, and on the gymnasium walls. They finished just as the first bell rang. By now, the school was awash with the sounds of students arriving, their voices and footsteps and locker doors slamming.

  “Well,” Lily said, slinging her backpack onto her shoulders. “See ya.”

  “Wait!” Felix said, not ready to let her go.

  She turned her perplexed face toward him.

  “We’re having a Christmas party at our house tomorrow. Want to come?”

  To his surprise, Lily didn’t take any time to consider. Instead, she just said, “Sure,” as casually as anything.

  “You did what?” Maisie said angrily to Felix.

  She couldn’t believe that her brother had invited someone to the VIP Christmas party without even asking her if it was okay. And Lily Goldberg of all people?

  “I like her,” Felix said.

  “Well maybe I don’t!” Maisie snapped. Now Felix would be fawning all over Lily Goldberg at the party, and Maisie would be all by herself, miserable.

  “She’s really nice,” Felix said.

  Maisie flopped onto the sofa, her skirt puffing out around her as she did. They were both dressed for the party, waiting for their mother to emerge before they went downstairs. Maisie had on the chocolate-colored silk skirt she’d worn to bar mitzvahs last year and a black cashmere T-shirt. Felix wore khakis and a white button-down shirt with a clip-on red bow tie and a slightly too big navy-blue blazer their father had bought for him for those same bar mitzvahs. You’ll grow into it, their father had said. Felix was still waiting for that to come true.

  “I cannot believe my life,” Maisie moaned.

  Their mother appeared in the living room doorway. Maisie had grown so used to her in her work clothes, slightly rumpled suits in neutral colors and low heels, that she gasped when she saw her in a slinky black velvet dress, sheer black stockings, and high heels.

  “Come on,” their mother said. “I don’t look that bad, do I?”

  Felix grinned up at her. “You look gorgeous!”

  She smiled her shiny, lipsticked lips. “You two dress up pretty nice yourselves.”

  “Do you know that he invited someone?” Maisie said.

  “You could have asked someone, too,” their mother told her.

  “Like who? I don’t have even one friend here.”

  “You will soon, sweetie. I promise,” their mother said gently. “Come on. It’s time to go.”

  On their way downstairs, Felix stopped to pick up something shiny on the landing between the third and second floors. The shard! Maisie must have dropped it when she’d raced upstairs earlier to get ready. He remembered her taking off her winter layers as she’d run, her scarf and then her mittens and then her puffy purple jacket. Felix held the shard in his palm for a moment. There was no time to go back up now and put it somewhere, and Maisie had no place to keep it in that outfit. He shoved it in his jacket pocket and caught up with Maisie and their mother on the next stairway.

  “I so wish Great-Aunt Maisie could have come. Don’t you?” their mother was saying.

  Felix did not wish that at all. Every time they’d seen her since Thanksgiving, she’d pestered them to find Thorne. Or to go back into The Treasure Chest. I’m losing my patience, she’d told them just a few days ago.

  “But she hasn’t been doing so well lately,” their mother continued. “Poor thing.”

  Felix got a heavy feeling, like he’d swallowed rocks. It was their fault Great-Aunt Maisie wasn’t doing well.

  They arrived at the bottom of the stairs on the first floor, exited the way they would if they were getting into their car, then walked around to the front of Elm Medona to enter.

  White lights twinkled in every shrub and tree. Oversized wreaths hung on the enormous front doors where two red-uniformed butlers stood, ready to open them for guests. Shiny cars filled the circular driveway in front of the house and valets scurried to open doors and help elegant ladies and tuxedoed men step out. Standing there, Felix could almost imagine what it must have been like a hundred years ago, when Phinneas Pickworth threw lavish balls and people came from all over Newport and beyond, dressed in fancy clothes and jewels. Great-Aunt Maisie had told them that her father kept peacocks that opened their glorious tails almost on cue for guests. Often, the parties had themes: the White Party, where everyone dressed in white and ballerinas dance
d excerpts from Swan Lake for the guests; the Masked Ball, where guests wore elaborate costumes and masks and Phinneas Pickworth had jesters perform for them; even Night on the Nile, with women dressed like Cleopatra, snake charmers, and a real sarcophagus that Phinneas had acquired on a trip to Egypt was opened, revealing a shriveled mummy inside. Seven of the guests actually fainted, Great-Aunt Maisie had told them, her blue eyes shining with delight at the memory.

  Maisie and Felix followed their mother inside. Immediately, butlers with heavy, silver trays filled with champagne glasses appeared. Their mother took one, her face glowing in the candlelight. The smells of a dozen different perfumes filled Felix’s nose.

  “Can we go find the buffet?” Maisie asked.

  “Don’t get into any trouble,” their mother warned them.

  “We won’t,” Felix promised.

  Their mother disappeared in a swirl of velvet.

  “Come on,” Maisie said, clutching Felix’s arm. “With so many people and so much excitement, no one will even notice if we sneak upstairs.”

  “No way,” Felix said.

  Across the Grand Ballroom, he caught sight of their nemesis, the awful Blond Woman. She had on a too-tight navy-blue gown that showed the small rolls of fat around her middle and pink lipstick on her thin, tight lips. Worst of all, her beady, blue eyes scanned the room as if they were lasers looking for Maisie and Felix.

  “Look over there,” Felix told his sister.

  Maisie followed the lift of his chin. “Oh no,” she groaned. “Not her.”

  “I have to wait for Lily,” Felix said. “We’ll meet you at the buffet.”

  Maisie’s heart sank. Just as she feared, Felix would be with stupid Lily Goldberg, and she would be off on her own.

  “Fine,” she muttered, pushing her way through the crowd toward the dining room. Maybe, Maisie thought, she would just have to go up to The Treasure Chest alone.

  “You live here?” Lily Goldberg said as soon as she found Felix in the Grand Ballroom.

  “Not exactly,” he said, blushing. “We live in an apartment upstairs. We don’t even use this door to get to it.”

  “But it’s a mansion, right?” she said, tilting her head back to stare at the giant chandelier.

  “Well,” Felix admitted, “yeah.”

  Lily tried to take it all in: the marble floor, the gold trim along the ceiling, the butlers and fancy people. She shook her head. “But why do you live upstairs?”

  “My great-great-grandfather built Elm Medona,” Felix said, feeling embarrassed. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

  Lily stood beside him, speechless.

  “There’s food,” he said. “In there.” He pointed in the general direction of the dining room.

  “Okay,” Lily said.

  She had on a black dress with a big, red petticoat beneath it that made the bottom of the dress stick out and rustle noisily when she walked.

  “You look nice,” Felix told her.

  Lily only nodded and looked more perplexed than usual.

  The dining room table was heavy with food. A man in a tall, white chef’s hat carved fat slices of beef. Shrimp glistened on silver platters. Long, thin spears of asparagus nestled beside slices of bright yellow and red peppers. Cheeses and olives and rounds of baguettes sat beside oysters and clams gleaming in their shells. Felix saw that the Pickworth china, with its interlocking, ornate Ps, was actually being used.

  “Why was your grandfather—” Lily began.

  “Great-great-grandfather,” Felix interrupted.

  “Why was he so rich?” she said.

  “Banking,” Felix said. Then he added, “We’re not rich. At all.”

  “Do you think my great-great-grandfather, I mean my Chinese one, was like an emperor or something?” Lily said.

  “Maybe,” Felix said. “Probably.”

  “Wouldn’t that be something? If I went back to China and my great-great-grandfather was in a castle or something with servants and fancy things?”

  Felix studied Lily Goldberg’s face for a moment. She didn’t look perplexed at all. Instead, her face was soft, her eyes dreamy. That was when he decided.

  He took her hand. “I want to show you something,” Felix said.

  Felix and Lily stood in front of the green wall on the second floor, right at the spot where, behind the enormous wreath, he could press lightly to reveal the hidden staircase. It had been hard to get Lily up here because she kept stopping to stare at the tapestries, the paintings, the statues, the murals, and the furniture behind the red velvet ropes. But finally they’d climbed the Grand Staircase and arrived at this spot.

  Felix glanced around to be absolutely certain no security guards or wayward guests or the Blond Woman were anywhere nearby. Satisfied, he reached his hand through the wreath’s greenery until it hit the wall. Then he pressed lightly, and sure enough, the wall magically moved and the hidden staircase appeared.

  “That is so cool!” Lily shrieked.

  “Just wait,” Felix said, motioning for her to come along.

  “A secret wall! A hidden staircase!” she said as they climbed up the stairs. “You have the coolest house ever!”

  Felix unclasped the red velvet rope that hung in The Treasure Chest’s doorway. With a sweep of his arm, he beckoned inside, where Lily’s shrieking and gasping grew even more intense.

  “What is all this stuff?” she kept asking as she picked up and then put down one item after another. A feather. A round ball of alabaster. A fountain pen. A locket.

  “Phinneas Pickworth was a collector,” Felix explained.

  He watched the curiosity and excitement in her eyes, trying to decide if he dared do what he wanted to do. After all, he had the shard in his jacket pocket. If he and Maisie could time travel by picking up an object, why couldn’t he and Lily? Imagine what she would think if he could take her back to China. Felix knew that he couldn’t find her ancestors, but being there might make her feel better, might fill that hole she’d described to him.

  Felix’s eyes darted across the room, searching for something that just might be Chinese. That red lantern? The swath of embroidered silk? The curved dagger?

  “Felix?” Lily said, holding something out to him. “Do you think this is from China? It’s jade, I think.”

  She held out her hand where a small, pale-green box sat on her palm.

  “Maybe,” he said.

  “I wonder if there’s anything inside,” she said. “Like jewels!”

  With her other hand, Lily opened the box.

  “Dirt?” she said.

  Felix nodded. The box was filled with nothing but dark soil.

  When he looked back at Lily, there was something in her eyes that made his heart jump.

  “Lily,” he said quietly. “I want you to take this box and hold really tight to it. I’m going to hold on, too. And then pull on it. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Lily said slowly.

  She put her fingers with their chipped, baby-blue nail polish around the jade box, her gaze steady on Felix. He put his hand on it, too, his fingers brushing right up against Lily’s. Lily yanked.

  The two of them stood like that for an instant, waiting.

  A voice cut through the room.

  “Felix!” Maisie exclaimed. “How could you?”

  She stomped up to them, pushed Lily hard enough for her to lose her grip on the box, and glared at her brother.

  “Maisie,” he began.

  But before he could say another word, Maisie grabbed the jade box filled with dirt and yanked, hard.

  The room filled with the smells of spices, river water, and wet soil. A wind rushed past Maisie and Felix, carrying the sounds of voices and music. Felix caught a fleeting glimpse of Lily Goldberg’s perplexed face. And then, they were gone.

  Maisie and Felix landed with a thud.

  Where are we now? Maisie wondered as she struggled to get her bearings. It was dark and smelled like the produce stand at the natural food market. She
pushed her arms upward and struggled to the surface, moving the small, hard grains that surrounded her out of the way as she did. Was she in a sandpit? When her head popped out she came face-to-face with an old, wizened Chinese man. His face was weathered and deeply wrinkled, and his wispy, white hair was tied back in a pigtail.

  The old man began to shout at her in Chinese, waving his arms and jumping up and down.

  Maisie looked down. She had landed, she realized, in a giant basket of rice. That basket of rice stood next to many more baskets of rice, which stood in a row of small stalls selling vegetables. From her perch, Maisie could see green beans and radishes and green cabbages. What she didn’t see was Felix.

  Still shouting at her, the old man took her arm and pulled hard. Maisie tumbled from the basket in a shower of rice.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, getting to her feet and wiping dirt from her chocolate-brown party skirt.

  The old man practically picked her up by the nape of her neck and carried her like a kitten through the crowded marketplace, Maisie’s legs kicking the air in protest. He kept screaming at her until they reached the end of the market, where he deposited her harshly on the ground.

  Maisie sat a moment, rubbing the back of her neck where he’d held on to her. In front of her was a riverbank and a muddy river with boats moving slowly along it. Some of the boats had white sails, others were painted bright colors. She smiled. They had come all the way to China! A surge of excitement coursed through her as she looked around. Men and women in cotton tunics and pants with triangular straw hats carrying small baskets of food passed, staring openly at Maisie and whispering to one another in Chinese.

 

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