Archer was hopelessly confused and after saying as much, the Eye Patch explained.
The Society was an organization for individuals like himself and Archer’s grandparents. It was also in Barrow’s Bay, not far from where they were now, in fact, and it had been there for nearly two hundred years. A number of members lived there, renting rooms on the top floors, while others stayed for shorter periods. This was where the Eye Patch stayed whenever he was in Rosewood.
“It’s a marvelous place,” he said with a glittering eye. “Filled with fascinating characters. But I doubt your Willow Street has seen many of them. I attracted lots of stares while delivering those trunks—felt terrible about that, by the way. Never forgot your expression when you opened that door. Thought you might slam it in my face!”
The Eye Patch went on to explain that disappearances were not uncommon in their community. And when such things did happen, many bets were placed on whether or not those who disappeared would someday reappear.
“Are you saying you bet against my grandparents being alive?” Archer asked, still trying to digest all of this.
“Of course not!” said the Eye Patch. “Not me. I told you when we first met, I put my bets on them being alive.”
He nodded toward the crooked man.
“I’m sorry to tell you that pelican of a man took the opposite stance and made heaps of money doing so—him, Birthwhistle, and the rest of their flock did. Everyone waits a year to see what happens, so they’ve long since collected their money. Of course, if we’re right, if Ralph and Rachel return, they’ll have a pretty penny to cough up and I’ll smoke my pipe to that!”
The crooked man was stretching with his arms pressed tight to his spine. Archer thought he was more crooked than ever.
“But enough with all that,” said the Eye Patch, turning his eye to Adélaïde. “Who’s your friend?”
Archer looked at her. She nodded. “This is Adélaïde,” he said. “She’s French and was half-eaten by a crocodile. And that’s Fritz. He almost died, too. I have another friend named Oliver. He’s around here somewhere.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” said Adélaïde, now that they’d been introduced. “What exactly happened to your eye?”
The man rubbed a greasy finger against the patch and smiled. “I’m afraid it’s not half the story your crocodile is,” he said. “Just a deck winch malfunction in rough seas. But tell me, where was this croc—”
“Rough seas,” said Archer. “Does that mean you have a ship?”
The Eye Patch nodded proudly. “I’m the captain of one, in fact.”
Archer and Adélaïde were thinking the same thing. The glass eye?
“Is your ship in Rosewood Port?” Archer asked.
“She certainly is,” the Eye Patch replied. “I’ve had that ship for—”
“You wouldn’t be going to Antarctica any time soon, would you?” Adélaïde asked.
“Can’t say I am—don’t go in for those climates. I always say, if it’s too—”
“But do you know ship schedules?” Archer asked. “When they’re leaving and where they’re going?”
“I don’t,” said the Eye Patch. He pointed at the crooked man. “But he does. Follow me!”
Archer and Adélaïde excitedly followed the Eye Patch down the stairs and back to the front counter. The Eye Patch asked to see the docking schedule, but had to insist before the crooked man dropped a massive book on the counter. He opened it to the most recent page and spun the book toward Archer in a cloud of dust. Archer ran his finger over the list. Antarctica. There was only one ship.
“The Tory Beacon is a research vessel,” said the Eye Patch, leaning over Archer’s shoulder. “Leaves in nine days. Dock E7.”
Archer wrote this down in his notebook.
“Nine days,” he said. “That’s October sixth—the Monday after next. Isn’t there something on October sixth?”
“That’s the museum trip,” said Oliver, waddling up behind them and dropping a large box labeled “Survival Kit” on the counter. He was dusty and breathing heavily. “That’s when we go to the Rosewood Museum.”
“And you must be Oliver?” said the Eye Patch with a grin.
Oliver glanced at the greasy man and then at Archer.
“Are we in danger?” he asked.
“No,” said Adélaïde.
“Nine days?” repeated Archer. “I’m not sure we’ll be ready in nine days.”
The Eye Patch leaned against the counter. “What’s this you’re looking to be ready for?” he asked casually.
They didn’t hear him.
“We’ll be fine,” said Adélaïde.
“But we still have a few things to do,” said Archer.
The Eye-Patch tapped Oliver’s box. “Survival kit?”
“Nine days is plenty,” said Adélaïde.
“It’ll have to be,” said Archer.
“HOLD IT!” shouted the Eye Patch. All three of them jumped. “Sorry—but why did you want to know about ships going to Antarctica?”
“Because that’s where they’re going,” said the crooked man with a crooked smile.
The Eye Patch shook his head. “You can’t go to Antarctica.”
“They’ll never get inside Rosewood Port,” the crooked man replied.
“I think we will,” said Adélaïde.
“We’re small enough,” said Oliver with a sigh.
The crooked man shut the book. Oliver sneezed.
“I don’t care where you go,” he said. “I only care to know how you plan to pay for all of this.”
Archer handed the crooked man his card. “There’s an account number there,” he said. “You can charge all of it to that.”
“If it doesn’t say your name, you can’t use it.”
“But I’m a Helmsley.”
“And how do I know that?”
“You’re the one who knew him before he said anything,” said Adélaïde.
“He knows me,” said Archer, pointing to the Eye Patch, who nodded.
“I’ve been to the house on Willow Street. He’s a Helmsley. But he’s not going to Antarctica.”
“This account has been inactive for two years,” said the crooked man. “Doubt there’s any money in it.”
“There’s always money in the Helmsleys’ accounts,” said the Eye Patch stiffly.
The crooked man grumbled and headed to the back room. The Eye Patch stood silently staring at Archer. When the crooked man returned, he piled the items into bags. Archer handed one to Oliver and one to Adélaïde and they made for the exit, ignoring the crooked man’s snide farewell. The Eye Patch followed them to the door.
“You can’t go to Antarctica,” he said.
Archer liked the Eye Patch, but he was tired of hearing this. “Maybe not,” he replied. “But I have to try. And I hope I’ll see you again.”
“It was nice meeting you,” said Adélaïde, following Oliver outside.
Archer paused. “Did you take my grandparents to Antarctica?” he asked.
The Eye Patch didn’t.
“Then why did you deliver their trunks?”
“They were in storage at the Society,” he replied. “I happened upon them and volunteered to take them to Willow Street.”
“Yes,” said Archer. “But why were they sent to the Society in the first place? Why weren’t they sent home?”
The Eye Patch scratched his neck and seemed confused. “The Society was their home,” he said. “They’d been renting a few rooms there for nine years or so. Up until the iceberg, of course.”
Archer shook his head. That couldn’t be right. “They were never in Rosewood,” he said. “They’d been traveling ever since I was born.”
“No one travels for nine years straight! Especially at their age. No, Ralph and Rachel were at the Society quite often.”
♦ BARROW’S BAY ALL ALONG ♦
Oliver and Adélaïde sat on the edge of the canal with their bare feet submerged in the green
speckled water. Fritz fell asleep on the warm cobblestones. A small wooden boat drifted by. Adélaïde let her wooden leg bob to the surface.
“Aren’t you worried it’ll get waterlogged?” Oliver asked.
“No,” she replied. “I can always get a new one.”
They were both watching Archer, who was skipping stones not far away. He’d told them everything he learned from the Eye Patch, but it still hadn’t sunk in. It all made sense while making no sense at all.
Of course his grandparents didn’t travel for nine years without ever once coming home. That was simply what his parents wanted him to believe. His mother probably asked them to leave Helmsley House after he was born. She didn’t want them around him. The house was already too much for her. So they moved into the Society.
Then there were the boxes. His grandparents must have left those on the doorstep themselves when they returned from trips. That’s why he was told to keep them a secret. That’s why his mother looked confused when she found them. She must have thought they were secretly visiting him. And while he could understand why his mother would keep their whereabouts a secret, he didn’t understand why his father had.
Archer skipped his last stone, removed his shoes and socks, and joined the others. The water was cool. The green specks dotted his feet.
“They were living in Barrow’s Bay all along,” he said.
“You don’t know why they didn’t tell you,” said Adélaïde thoughtfully. “I don’t think you should assume anything.”
“But it’s obvious,” said Oliver. “His mother didn’t want him to meet them.”
“Obvious is not always right,” said Adélaïde.
“What I don’t understand,” said Archer, “is why they left the house in the first place. Why let me in if it meant they would move out?”
“I think they wanted you to grow up there,” said Adélaïde. “That would have made their decision easy and they were probably glad to do it. You’d be different if you grew up in a house without a polar bear.”
Archer couldn’t help but smile at this. He also never would have met Oliver and Adélaïde.
“I just don’t—” Archer stopped. A prickly sensation came over him.
“You just don’t what?” said Oliver.
“I think I’ve met him,” said Archer.
“What do you mean?” Adélaïde asked.
It took Archer a moment, but he explained the story of the scraggly man from the dinner party—the man who stumbled as he walked. And while he couldn’t remember what that man looked like, he never forgot what that man told him: “You’re a Helmsley. And being a Helmsley means something.”
“But it couldn’t have been him,” said Oliver. “Not if that man could barely walk.”
“Anyone could pretend to do that,” said Adélaïde.
“It was him,” said Archer. “I’m sure it was. And after that, the boxes began arriving.”
Archer had always been certain he would know exactly who his grandfather was, but the one time he met him, he didn’t even know it. He plucked a piece of grass from a crack in the cobblestones and tossed it into the water.
“What do you want to do?” Adélaïde asked.
Archer wanted to see the Society. He wanted to see where his grandparents lived. He wanted to see the world that was kept secret from him. The world the Eye Patch called “marvelous.” But making sure they were on that ship mattered most. None of this changed the fact that Ralph and Rachel were still stuck on an iceberg.
“They gave up their house for me,” he said. “We have to get on that ship.”
“We will,” assured Adélaïde.
“I don’t want to take any chances,” he replied. “We should go to Rosewood Port. It can’t be very far. We need to see exactly what we’ll be dealing with.”
So that’s what they did. They dried their feet, slipped into their shoes, and followed the canal, which, according to Oliver’s map, would lead them to the port. It was a pleasant walk and Archer’s mood lightened as they climbed another stone stairway and entered Rosewood Port.
♦ STOP THOSE TURTLES ♦
Seagulls drifted with the wind. The empty streets of Barrow’s Bay were replaced with great crowds. The shimmering ocean stretched out before them and the port was like a giant mouth trying to drink it. To the right were smaller ships and to the left were much larger ones. At the very center was a long stone building with arched entrances. Adélaïde pointed out what she could remember, but she had arrived at night and everything always looks different at night.
“We can’t go inside,” she said. “They won’t let you onto the docks without a ticket and we don’t have any.”
There was a second way onto the docks—where the cargo was brought on carts and trucks to be loaded onto ships. It was a narrow gate with a small guard booth on one side. They moved in to take a closer look. At most, the guard inside the booth looked like he was qualified to stop a turtle, but only if he put his mind to it. Still, there was no way to get past without his noticing.
“That’s it,” said Archer. “That’s how we’ll get inside.”
“But he’ll see us,” said Oliver.
“He must take breaks,” said Adélaïde.
“Maybe,” said Oliver. “But we won’t know that for sure. We can’t just walk up and ask when he won’t be there.”
To their surprise, that was precisely what Adélaïde was going to do. She stuck her hand into Oliver’s pocket and removed half a croissant.
“How did you—I was going to eat that!” Oliver cried, but Adélaïde ignored him and slowly approach the booth with Fritz.
Once she was close enough, she bent down and unleashed the beagle. She flashed the croissant in front of his nose and lobbed it. The croissant bounced off the booth’s glass window. The guard looked up. Fritz took off after it. The guard rushed out and scooped him up just as Adélaïde hurried over.
“I guess he can stop more than a turtle,” whispered Oliver.
“Merci, Monsieur!” said Adélaïde. “Parlez-vous Français?”
“I don’t understand a word you’re saying,” the guard replied, at the same moment noticing Archer and Oliver. “You can’t be over here. None of you are supposed to be over here!”
“Oh,” said Adélaïde. “I’m sorry. We’re from France. We didn’t know.” She turned to Archer and Oliver, who picked up on her cue and began looking around the port with confused expressions, pointing to this and that.
“Thank you for saving him, by the way,” she said, facing the guard once more. “He can’t swim very well.”
“This belongs to you?” the guard asked.
“He,” said Adélaïde. “His name is Fritz. He escaped while we were touring the port. It’s quite lovely. Except for your booth. That looks rather small. Do you sit in there all day long?”
“I do,” he said slowly.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. You must get terribly cramped in there. Do they let you take breaks?”
Archer and Oliver shook their heads, certain the guard would see right through this. She was being too obvious. If they were in his shoes, they would know she was lying. But they were amazed to see the guard’s expression soften. And still more amazed to see that he appreciated her concern.
“It’s not so terrible as that,” he said. “I usually get to stretch the legs and grab a coffee every hour or so.”
“Oh, that’s very good,” she replied. “I’m glad to hear it.”
The guard handed Fritz to Adélaïde and his look stiffened once more.
“Now I must ask the three of you to leave,” he said, and squeezed himself back into the booth.
Adélaïde thanked him and walked back to Archer and Oliver. They stared. Adélaïde pretended not to notice.
“Gets coffee every hour or so,” she said with a shrug, now unable to hold back a smile. Archer shook his head.
“You scare me sometimes,” said Oliver.
Adélaïde giggled and threw her arms
around both their shoulders.
“But I’m on your side,” she said.
“I hope so.”
They gathered their bags and followed the canal back to Turntail Way, boarded one Rosewood bus and then another. And when the driver shouted, “Willow Street,” they stepped off with their equipment, a departure date, and a beagle named Fritz.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
♦ PERMISSION TO SNEAK ♦
Archer struggled against telling his parents everything he discovered in Barrow’s Bay. He had more questions than the Eye Patch had answers, but he couldn’t say a word. If he did, they would know he’d left the house and spoken to someone he shouldn’t have. So Archer kept his mouth shut and when Monday rolled around, he had many other things on his mind. The ship to Antarctica would be leaving in one week. They’d done their research and their equipment and winter clothes were packed into bags, but they still had to figure out how they were going to get to the port. They met in the reading room to work out the remaining details.
“The ship leaves the same day as the museum trip,” Oliver said, sounding annoyed because Adélaïde was dominating him on the checkers board.
Archer was lying on the couch with his notebook. “There’s no reason to come to school that day,” he said. “We’ll sneak out through your house and head straight to the port.”
Adélaïde disagreed. “We’ll need time to get to Rosewood Port before anyone realizes we’re gone,” she said. “If we don’t show up for school, Mrs. Murkley will call our parents. We won’t make it.”
“But they won’t know where we’re going,” said Oliver.
This was true, but Archer didn’t want to chance it. They would escape during the museum trip and that would hopefully allow for enough time to get to Rosewood Port. But this meant they would have to cut down on what they were bringing.
“It’ll look suspicious if our bags are too big,” Archer said. “We’ll bring one change of clothes and the equipment, but nothing more.”
Oliver threw up his hands. Adélaïde quadruple-jumped him for the win. He left the checkers board and joined Archer on the couch.
The Doldrums Page 15