Mary Andromeda and the Amazing Eye (The Journals of Evergreen Isle Book 1)

by J. G. Kemp

  “I play piano, but I want to learn the cello. I went to a symphony, with my school last year, and there was a woman who played the cello, and it was the most beautiful sound, the way it echoed through the whole room. I’ve been asking my parents for one, and they keep saying maybe, but then they said I was going to the Institute, and I don’t think they have music there.” She paused and then asked, “What grade are you in? I’m only 10 so I’m supposed to be in the 5th but my parents skipped me ahead to the 6th. I didn’t know I was going to the Institute until yesterday. They said I got in at the last minute.”

  “I didn’t know until yesterday either,” said Mary. She hopped over a hole in the dock where a plank was missing. “So, you want to go to the Institute?”

  “Oh yes,” answered Elliot, “everyone in my old school—Oceanside Academy Prep—said the Institute was for the smartest kids in each grade. We all wanted to go there. I haven’t had a chance to tell my friends yet—they’re going to be so jealous. What school did you go to?”

  “I’ve never been to a school,” Mary said. “My sister and I always had tutors at my uncle’s house. She’s 9 and I’m 11, so I guess I’m in 6th grade too. My uncle didn’t tell me anything about the Institute.” Mary held up her violin case to prove her point. “Do you think they’re in 6th grade?” She nodded towards Ben and Julee up ahead.

  “Probably. Almost all new kids are in 6th grade. I know Henry isn’t. He’s in 7th.” Elliot began to whisper. “My parents told me about him. He’s a Kelvin. His family started the Institute, they run the whole thing.”

  Mary looked down at her feet; they had reached the end of the dock. The sand in front of them shimmered, like millions of tiny stars all piled on top of each other. Ben, Julee, and Henry were ahead, standing in front of a row of bushes that were covered in pink roses. Ben was looking left and right, while Julee was smelling a rose, and Henry was brushing sand off his shoes. The bushes lined the beach as far as Mary could see, like the wall of a fortress.

  “I think we’ll have to go through ‘em,” hollered Ben, and he waded into the tangled mesh of waist-high rose bushes. “Watch out for thorns!” A few steps in, he turned around and shrugged. “It’s not so bad,” he said and then continued on, smiling.

  “Not so bad… if you like thorns in your pants,” muttered Henry.

  Julee walked into the bushes behind Ben. “At least it smells wonderful,” she said.

  Henry hesitated, frowning at his shoes and slacks before he too entered the bushes, acting as if they were more like an icky, disgusting swamp.

  Elliot and Mary followed. It did smell wonderful! Mary thought. The beads jingled on Julee’s backpack, and the sound of the surf rolled behind them. All the mist had burned off, and the sun was now shining brightly overhead. Mary’s arms didn’t feel cold anymore. As she walked through the bushes her summer dress kept getting caught by thorns. She looked up towards the house and pushed her glasses farther up her nose; she could see it more clearly now, now that it wasn’t reflecting sunlight straight at her. It was white, and had turrets, and it looked like the houses near her Uncle Edwin’s. There was something attached to the top, something like giant plants or antennae, growing out of the roof.

  “I wonder what those are for,” said Julee, noticing the strange objects.

  “They look like those things on vines… that wrap around stuff as they grow… what are they called?” asked Ben.

  “Tendrils?” Elliot said.

  “Yeah, tendrils,” said Ben. “They look like giant tendrils.”

  After passing through the rosebushes, they continued up the trail, over the grassy hillside, and soon, they came to a rock wall, about waist high, that surrounded the house. The space the wall enclosed had row after row of long earthen mounds, like it used to be a garden, but the mounds were overgrown with grasses and wild plants. A gate nearby swung back and forth, its hinges slowly creaking in the breeze. “Looks like the garden needs some help,” commented Ben.

  They followed the trail alongside the wall and eventually reached the top of the hill, where a stone path led to the front of the house.

  The house was two stories high, and square, with a pyramid-shaped roof. The roof, like the whole house, was whitewashed and gleamed in the sunlight, and a metallic spire extended from its top and split into three spiral shaped tendrils. Three turrets, each with a spire and tendrils of its own, were attached to three corners of the square house, and attached to the fourth corner was a large circular-shaped room lined with windows, and topped with a smooth white dome. Vines were growing uncontrolled across the front path, and up the door, and over the windows—some of which were broken.

  Ben cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted. “Hellooooo! Anybody home?!” His voice echoed off the stone walls before fading away.

  “Hellooooo!” shouted Julee.

  “Hellooooo!” shouted Elliot.

  They waited… there was no answer.

  “Well,” Ben said, “I suppose we should knock.” He stepped over the vines and approached the door. Knock…knock…knock. “Hello!……anybody home?”

  They waited… no answer.

  “Hellooooo,” Julee shouted again.

  Ben pounded on the door. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!…

  No answer.

  Ben turned and faced the others. “I don’t think anyone’s here,” he said.

  “Ya don’t think?” scoffed Henry, who was sitting on the stone wall, still out of breath from walking up the hill.

  “I don’t think anyone’s been here for a long time,” said Julee. She kicked one of the vines on the path with her ruby-jeweled boots.

  Mary stared up at the house, scanning its white walls and dirty windows. It’s time you learned the truth, she thought again, and then saw, carved into the stone above the door, and half hidden by leaves, a large spiral letter ‘A’—the same design from the forbidden door at her uncle’s house!

  “Um…GUYS!” shouted Ben, urgently pointing behind them, towards the ocean.

  Mary spun around. The boat was speeding away, skipping across the water, its wings outstretched.

  “My suitcase!” cried Elliot as the boat rose into the air and climbed higher and higher. They watched, speechless, as the sound of its engine faded away and the boat-plane disappeared from sight.

  Mary clutched the violin case and thought of the journal inside. The others were talking rapidly but Mary didn’t listen. Whatever was happening was connected to the Forbidden Room, connected to her grandmother. Her mind raced: it’s time I learned the truth—follow the clues—Caroline—Grandma—but Uncle Edwin said she’d died—but she has to be my grandma—why else would the journals be the same—how else would she know who I was—she has to be—she has to be my grandma—she sent me here—

  “Um…Mary?” said Elliot.

  Mary was pulled from her thoughts. The others were looking at her, waiting for a response. “Um…what?” she asked, and pushed her glasses farther up her nose.

  “What do you think we should do Mary?” asked Elliot. She looked afraid, and tears were welling up in her eyes.

  Mary knew exactly what to do.

  She walked straight up to the front door and turned the knob—it was locked. She stepped back and scanned the windows. One of the second story windows on the nearest turret was broken; shards of loose glass still clung to the window frame. She set down her violin case, hopped over the rock wall, squeezed between the house and the overgrown bushes, and shimmied to a large vine of ivy which was growing just below the broken window.

  “Mary, what are you doing?” cried Elliot, puzzled.

  But Mary didn’t answer. She grabbed ahold of the ivy and began to climb. It was just like climbing up to her treehouse. The vines were thick, strong, and untamed, and the leaves shook as she ascended.

  “Awesome!” hollered Ben from below.

  When Mary reached the window, she wedged her feet into the tangled mesh of ivy and peered
into the house. Behind the shattered glass and a crack in the curtain, she saw an open door that led to a bedroom. Piece by piece she pulled the shards of glass away and tossed them into the bushes below.

  “Go Mary!” shouted Julee.

  When all the glass was gone, Mary wriggled her feet out of the vine, hoisted herself through the window, and tumbled into the room, landing on the floor with a thud.

  “Woohoo!” sounded Ben’s voice from the path outside.

  Chapter 6

  The House of Andromeda

  Mary stood and brushed the leaves off her dress and shook the hair out of her face. The room she had fallen into was small and square and lined with windows. An open door led to the bedroom she had seen from outside, and a stairway descended the turret to the floor below. She poked her head back through the open window and waved at the others. They were all staring at her.

  “What’s in there?” hollered Ben.

  “It’s a bedroom, and a stairway,” Mary hollered back. “I’ll come open the front door, just a minute.” She turned towards the stairs—and then something caught her eye—something moving in the bedroom. She froze and listened… “Hello?” she called, as she crept towards the bedroom and peeked inside. The room was long and narrow, and well-lit from the large windows on the west wall. A royal blue rug ran across the floor to another door at the room’s far end. There was a four-poster bed, a dresser, and a large desk, all made of dark, rose-red wood, and carved with detailed patterns of spirals and stars. On the desk was the most beautiful armillary sphere that Mary had ever seen—bigger than the one in her Uncle Edwin’s parlor, and more complex than the one in his library.

  As she walked towards it, there was a flapping of wings and a loud squawk. “Ahhhh,” Mary screamed, and shielded her face as a large bird came at her head. It brushed against her hair as it flew to a nest in the eaves of the turret.

  “Squawk…Annie…Squawk…Annie…,” it cried.

  Mary uncovered her eyes and looked up—it was a gray parrot. She pushed her glasses farther up her nose. The parrot cocked its head and stared back.

  “Did you just say ‘Annie’?” asked Mary.

  “Squawk,” said the bird.

  “Hey Mary, what was that?” Julee’s voice came in through the open window. “Is everything okay?”

  Mary hurried back to the turret window and shouted down, “Yeah, it was just a bird. I’ll be right there.” She headed for the stairs, and half-way down them, she glanced up at the eaves—the parrot was still watching her. At the bottom, Mary slowly pulled open the door which led into the main house and peeked inside. “Hello?” she called. Her voice echoed in the room.

  “Annie,” squawked the bird from above.

  Mary stepped through the doorway. A row of stone pillars stood in front of her, and beyond these, the room opened wide. Light poured in from all sides. A spiral staircase, right in the middle of the room, wound up and up and disappeared into a hole in the ceiling two-stories above. It smelled like… Mary couldn’t place it, but it smelled familiar.

  To her left stretched a long wooden table, dishes scattered across the top, and chairs tipped-over on the floor. To her right, against the far wall, was a section of bookshelves, sofas, and armchairs. It’s like an entry-hall, dining room, library, and parlor, all combined into one, Mary thought. It felt comfortable and inviting, despite the great size of the room and the high ceiling.

  Two more doors, like the one Mary had just walked through, were at each corner in the back of the room. Those must go to the other turrets, she thought. And on the back wall was a pair of swinging doors, like the ones to the kitchen in her Uncle Edwin’s house.

  Mary stepped forward again and—there it was! The door to the circular room she had seen outside. It was large, with a spiral letter ‘A’ carved upon it. It looked exactly like the door to the Forbidden Room.

  Mary was struck with a sudden desire to open it. It’s time you learned the truth, she thought. She glanced to the front of the house and saw Elliot through a window, sitting on the rock wall, looking down at her feet, looking scared. Should I tell them—about the journal—about the Forbidden Room—about Caroline’s Corner? No. Not yet, not until this makes sense, Mary decided, and then walked to the front door, undid the latch, and swung it wide.

  Ben hopped up instantly. “Nice climbing,” he said and glanced around Mary at the room inside. “Wow, look at those stairs!” He skipped through the doorway, and Julee followed behind—she smiled and winked at Mary as she entered the house.

  “Uh… where’s Henry?” Mary asked.

  “Oh,” answered Elliot, “he said he wanted to explore around the house. He went off that way.” She pointed and then added in a whisper, “he’s kinda grumpy.” She stepped inside and handed Mary the violin case, and Mary set it by the door. “Mary, what’s going on?” Elliot continued nervously. “Henry says it was just a mistake, and they’ll send a boat to get us once he can call his father. Do you think there’ll be a phone or something here?” She looked into Mary’s eyes.

  “Um… I don’t know,” Mary answered awkwardly and looked away.

  “Wow, I wonder what’s in here!” Ben exclaimed. He was standing by the large door. He tried turning the knob—it didn’t move—the door was locked. He traced the carved letter ‘A’ with his finger. “Look at the detail on this A… that’s amazing.”

  Mary tried not to notice.

  Ben turned from the door and nodded towards the spiral stairs. “Hey Jewels, wanna go up there?”

  “Wild, we don’t know whose house this is,” she answered, and then added in a whisper, “what if there’s something up there?”

  “Like what?”

  “I dunno, like a dead body or something.”

  “Scaredy-cat.”

  “Am not.”

  “Then let’s go. I’ll race ya!” He ran towards the stairs, and bolted up them, taking two at a time, his big backpack bouncing loudly.

  “Hey wait up!” Julee shouted. Mary watched them wind up and up and disappear through the hole in the ceiling.

  “Woohoo!” Ben’s voice echoed down. He poked his head out of the hole. “No dead bodies!” he shouted and disappeared again.

  Mary smiled. “I wonder how they know each other,” she said, and turned towards Elliot who was standing beside the long table, staring at the dishes still scattered across the top.

  “This house is so strange,” Elliot said. “Why isn’t anyone here?” Tears were welling-up in her eyes. “Mary, what’s happening? Why did the boat leave us? What is—” she stopped, speechless, with a strange look on her face, and slowly pointed at something on the wall. “Mary, your name is over here. It says The House of Andromeda.”

  Above the table, hanging between two large windows, was something that looked like a shield. Painted upon it were four squares, like a checkerboard, two yellow and two purple, and across the top was painted a banner with the words: The House of Andromeda. In one of the yellow squares was the same spiral letter ‘A’, and in the other was a drawing of a telescope. The purple squares were dotted with silver stars.

  “Why is your name on there?” Elliot asked, puzzled.

  Mary didn’t know what to say—she needed time to think. “Don’t tell anyone,” she answered, in a nervous whisper.

  “Why not?” Elliot whispered back.

  Mary glanced up the spiral staircase. “Just… don’t tell anyone yet… I don’t want them to know.”

  “Don’t want them to know what?” Elliot asked. She looked both scared and excited at the same time. And just then, the sound of laughing and heavy footsteps came from the staircase as Ben and Julee came bounding down.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Mary whispered quickly, and then walked away from the shield, reaching the stairway just as Ben leapt off the last step.

  “I win!” he cheered, throwing his arms up into the air. “Woohoo!”

  “Not fair, Wild, you had a head star
t!” complained Julee. “I want a rematch.”

  “No way! I won fair and square!” He glanced at Mary and smiled and then sat down next to Julee on the bottom step.

  “What’s up there?” Mary asked, hoping to sound casual.

  “A bedroom,” Ben and Julee said in unison and then looked at each other and laughed. Julee elbowed Ben playfully in the side.

  “A big bedroom!” added Ben. “It’s cool because the roof is a pyramid so the walls come down to the floor at an angle,” he built an acute angle with his hands, “and the ceiling goes to a point. It’s painted blue, just like the sky, with clouds and everything.”