by Annie Bryant
“Katani?” Mr. Taylor asked, taking out his cell phone. “Would you mind calling Michelle and asking for more specific directions? I am not really familiar with the Village.”
He handed Katani the phone and she punched in her cousin’s numbers.
“Michelle?” she said when her cousin answered sleepily. “It’s Katani. We’re driving around the Village right now and we can’t find your street.”
Michelle let out a giant yawn and answered, “That’s the problem with my neighborhood. The entire rest of Manhattan is a numbered grid, so it’s hard to get lost there. But not the Village!”
“I can see that…Okay, I am going to give the phone to Maeve’s dad so you can tell him where to go,” Katani said as she handed the phone back to Mr. Taylor.
Michelle was right. The streets seemed to be some kind of paved over cow paths, thought Katani. Michelle kept asking them to give her cross streets so she could “locate” them. After ten more minutes of cruising aimlessly, Mr. Taylor had an idea. “Thanks for all your help, Michelle. We should be there soon,” he said and hung up.
“Did you figure it out?” Katani asked.
“Not really,” he answered. “But I have an idea…” Mr. Taylor pulled the car to the side of the street right in front of the bright lights and open windows of a Korean deli. “The only way we are going to find her place is by asking a person to point out the way. Now Katani, since these two are out like a light, would you mind hopping out and just asking the clerk for directions to Morton Street? I can keep an eye on you from right here.”
“Sure.” Katani got out and walked inside the brightly lit store. She had heard that New York was famous for its delis and now she knew why. The air was rich with the smell of cured meat and spices. There was an elderly man working at the cash register and a woman stocking the shelves. The man looked up at the sound of the bell that rang when Katani walked in. “Excuse me,” she said in a friendly tone, “we just came in from Boston and we’re kind of lost. We’re trying to find Morton Street, but we keep missing it.”
She showed the man Michelle’s address neatly written in her business idea notebook.
The clerk looked at her as though she were crazy, and pointed behind her.
“What?” Katani asked.
“One block away. You turn right at this corner, you’re there.” He waved his hands at her.
“Are you serious?” Katani asked. After all this time driving around, they were only one block away from Michelle’s house?
“Yes. Yes, that’s it.” The clerk smiled at her thunder-struck expression. “Have a good evening.”
Katani smiled gratefully at him. “You too! Thanks.”
Five minutes later, they were in front of Michelle’s apartment building. When they told the doorman their names, he gallantly held the door open and said comfortingly, “Ah yes, Michelle is expecting you.” Sam helped Maeve lug in her two enormous suitcases. Katani managed just fine with her small black carry-on bag.
Once in Michelle’s building, Maeve was eager to be on her own. “Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Sam,” she said. “I think we’re all set here. “See you Sunday! I’ll call you. Ciao!” Katani snorted. Maeve loved to pretend she was in a foreign movie. Tonight she was in her Italian mode.
“Hold your horses, young lady,” her father said. “I’m not leaving until Katani’s cousin comes down to meet you.”
“But Daaaaad…We’re not eight!” Maeve whined. She looked at Sam, who was sleepily slumped on a bench against the wall beside them.
“I don’t care if you’re twenty-eight. I’m your father, and I will be waiting!” He raised his eyebrow, which Maeve knew was his sign that he meant business.
At first, Katani thought that Mr. Taylor was being a little overprotective. Then again, after everything else that had happened today, waiting for Michelle was probably not a bad idea! She used Mr. Taylor’s cell phone to call Michelle and ask her to come down.
Two minutes later, Michelle, in fluffy slippers and a yellow bathrobe tied hastily around her, shuffled off the elevator. As always, she was smiling. “Hi, everyone! You must be Maeve of the famous Beacon Street Girls. Katani’s told me so much about you!” she said. Maeve glowed. “And you must be Mr. Taylor. Thanks so much for bringing them.”
“It was no trouble at all,” he said, winking at the girls. Maeve and Katani gave each other a look. No trouble? “Maeve, take my cell phone. In case of emergencies, call your mom. And have a great time. I’ll see you back here on Saturday.” Mr. Taylor kissed Maeve on the forehead and collected Sam, and they were on their way.
“So how was the trip?” asked Michelle once they’d wrestled Maeve’s suitcases into the elevator and were riding up. Katani looked at Maeve, who just giggled and said, “Oh it was…interesting.” Maeve and Katani took turns telling Michelle all about the Merritt Parkway, the flat tire, Mr. Taylor’s bad back, and Sam’s funny but useless attempts to help.
Michelle listened attentively as she led them into her fifth-floor apartment. “Wow, look at this place. It’s amazing!” Maeve gasped, breaking off in the middle of the story to stare around the huge room. With high, arching ceilings and big windows overlooking the Village, the apartment seemed absolutely enormous even though it was really quite small. There was even a fireplace at one end of the room that would light up by pressing a remote control. “Too cool!” Maeve whispered.
“It’s sooo fabulous, Michelle,” Katani enthused. Katani couldn’t wait to have an apartment like this.
“Well, I’m glad you like it. All right, girls, follow me. You’re going to sleep in the study.” Michelle led the way down the narrow hall and opened a door on the right. “The couch is a pullout bed, but it’s really comfy. You can ask any of my girlfriends from college. Most of them have spent a night at Hotel Michelle. You guys must be exhausted after your crazy trip, so if you want to go right to sleep that is A-okay by me—” She stopped and looked at them doubtfully. “Or do you want to eat something?”
“We stopped at a little diner back in Connecticut, so I’m all set,” said Katani. “I think if I don’t get into bed this minute, I’m going to sleep standing up.”
Maeve nodded. “Me too. I’ve never been so tired in my whole life!” she said, collapsing on the fluffy couch.
“Sleep tight, girls.” Michelle said as she turned off one of the lights and closed the door.
“Katani, this is the greatest place!” Maeve whispered. “And Michelle is awesome! She’s so together, you know? I bet she can handle anything!”
Katani took off her coat and laid it carefully across an overstuffed chair in the corner. “She can. That’s why she got promoted so quickly at Teen Beat. Everyone’s really impressed with how professional she is.”
Maeve strolled around the room, admiring Michelle’s computer desk, the neat stacks of papers and files, and the rows of framed photographs of her and various celebrities on the walls. As Maeve walked, she dropped her jacket on the middle of the floor, kicked her pink boots against the wall, then unsnapped her favorite jeans and tossed them on a chair. Maeve put on her pj’s and a minute later she lay diagonally on the pullout couch, sprawled over the blanket, and was fast asleep.
Katani stood frozen in dismay. She couldn’t leave this study so messy, with Maeve’s clothes lying all over the place like confetti! Michelle was as orderly as Katani, and would hate to see her once-meticulous study looking like a hurricane hit. Since Maeve was her friend, Katani herself felt responsible. After all, they were guests.
Slowly, she began to pick up Maeve’s coat, boots, and jeans. She folded the clothes on a low table and neatly placed the boots underneath. Then she wearily took off her own clothes and put them back in her suitcase where they’d be out of Michelle’s way.
Maeve was already sound asleep on top of the bed and blanket, so there was no way to make it up properly. Katani pulled a clean pillowcase over a fluffy pillow and crawled over Maeve, who had taken up most of the mattress. She wrapped herself in a
nother blanket and squirmed around until she was finally comfortable.
Even though Katani was tired, she had a difficult time falling asleep. Too much had happened that day, and she needed to sort it all out in her mind. Maeve was so sweet and supportive. If it wasn’t for Maeve, Katani never would have had the chance to go to New York in the first place. But Maeve could be so disorganized. Charlotte and Isabel are always so much neater, she thought. Would she have been better off bringing a different member of the BSG on her New York adventure? Maybe Maeve was just too tired to pick up after herself, Katani thought. Was this going to happen on the whole trip, or just tonight?
Katani tried to push those thoughts out of her mind as she finally drifted off to sleep. She and Maeve were awesome friends, and they were going to have a wonderful time. This trip would be the real start of her great career in business and fashion. She couldn’t wait until tomorrow!
CHAPTER
10
The Museum Leech
On Friday, the Abigail Adams seventh-grade class finished their second day of aptitude tests at precisely eleven o’clock. Ms. Rodriguez came back into the classroom with a smile. “All right, boys and girls. We’re off to the Museum of Fine Arts!” Almost before Ms. R uttered her last syllable Dillon was out the door followed by the Trentinis and the Yurtmeister. They chanted “Field Trip! Field Trip!” all the way down the hall.
It was sunny outside under the high blue sky. “Perfect weather for a trip to a museum. Not! We should be going to the park for a class soccer game!” Avery exclaimed. She, Charlotte, and Isabel lined up in front of the bus that was waiting to take them to the museum.
Isabel shifted nervously from one foot to the other.
“What’s wrong, Iz?” Charlotte asked.
Isabel shrugged. “Nothing really. I was just thinking about that test…I don’t know if I did that well on the math part. All the problems with X’s and Y’s really confused me. I don’t think I got more than half of those!”
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Charlotte reassured her. “Aptitude tests are just to see what you can and can’t do. That way, school teachers know what they need to spend more time working on.”
Avery was jumping to get to the front of the line, eager to obtain a choice seat on the bus. “Come on, can we not talk about tests anymore? This is supposed to be fun time!”
Isabel nodded. “I know, but that math…”
“Don’t worry, Iz. I don’t know if I did that great either,” said Charlotte, hoping to reassure her friend.
“Isabel and Charlotte!” Avery interrupted, placing her hands on her hips. “Iz, do you want to be a famous artist or a math teacher?”
Isabel began to grin. “Well, an artist but…”
“And Charlotte,” Avery continued, “you know you are good at math and reading. You know more about astronomy than anyone at our school, and everybody loves reading your articles for The Sentinel.”
“You’re right,” said Isabel. “I’ll just have to wait to get the results and be surprised…”
“Speaking of surprises…” Avery motioned at a young woman walking toward the bus.
“Omigosh!” Charlotte said. “Look who’s coming on the field trip with us!” She nodded at a young woman talking to Ms. Rodriguez.
“Ms. Weston!” Isabel exclaimed. “You don’t think she’s going to guide us around the museum, do you?”
“If she is, we might not make it home.” Avery giggled. All three girls laughed, remembering their adventures at Lake Rescue with the directionally challenged student teacher, who couldn’t seem to find her way around a parking lot, let alone the wilderness.
The bus ride to the museum seemed much shorter than it actually was. Everyone had way too much energy after being cooped up all morning taking tests. Now the bus was rocking with noise and laughter. “Hey, a truck! Let’s get him to honk!” Henry Yurt yelled from his seat in the back. Nick and Dillon were ready for action. The three boys pumped their arms up and down as a Mack truck approached from the side. “Honk! Honk! Honk!” chanted the back of the bus. The driver took note of the squad of overexcited students and reached up and pulled down a lever.
“WONK! WONK!” bellowed the truck. It was more like the foghorn of a ship than a car. Some students covered their ears in surprise. The truck driver zoomed past and honked his horn one more time for good measure as he gave his bus of fans a friendly wave. The entire bus cheered loudly and waved back.
“I think I lost my hearing!” Isabel moaned as she clasped her hands over her ears.
Avery giggled and motioned toward Riley, who was sitting in front of them. Riley had headphones on and was bopping along to the tunes in his head, completely oblivious to the earth-shattering truck horn only moments before. “Hey Riley, how are the eardrums holding up?” Avery tapped his shoulder.
Riley, startled, pulled his earphones out and looked up. “What up?” Because he was part of a rock band called Mustard Monkey, most of the time there was some sort of loud musical noise blaring in his ears. “Are you talking to me?!” he asked in an overly loud voice.
“Never mind…” Avery shook her head. She sat back next to Charlotte and began tapping her feet against the floor. After the morning-long test, Avery was just one of the many kids in Ms. Rodriguez’s class who had a lot of leftover energy. “I wish we got to go on a field trip to a rock-climbing gym.” Avery pretended to climb in place.
“Avery, this museum has mummies in crypts,” Charlotte rubbed her hands to together gleefully.
Avery clapped. “Mummies! Now we’re talking! Remember that scene in Return of the Mummy when…”
Isabel shuddered. “I really don’t want to see the mummies,” she said, sounding adamant.
“Why not, Izzy?” asked Charlotte.
“Yeah…they’ve already been dead for about, I don’t know, a thousand years,” Avery said with a mischievous grin. “What do you think they’re going to do, crawl out of their sarcophaguses and change their minds?”
Isabel tried to glare but giggled instead. “Ha ha, you are sooo funny, Avery.” She reached under her seat and produced a straw handbag, which held a sketchbook and a box of colored pencils. “Oh well. I have plenty of stuff to do at the museum that will help me steer clear of mummies AND their sarcophaguses. There’ll be some beautiful Egyptian art I can copy there. I’ve always thought Egyptian urns and murals were really cool. You know, the pictures on them all tell stories. I wouldn’t mind just being by myself and sketching today. Am I the only seventh grader whose idea of an awesome day is looking at vases at a museum?”
“Umm…” Avery began to drum her fingers together as she made a funny face at Isabel.
“No, no, no,” Charlotte said quickly. “I’m excited too! I have a Sentinel assignment to work on today. Jennifer asked me to do a piece about our field trip for the paper.”
“You’re doing a piece for the paper?” The BSG turned around. Betsy Fitzgerald sat behind them, and now she was looking at Charlotte unhappily. “I wonder why Jennifer didn’t ask me to write it? I told her that I am a real Egyptophile and I know everything about Egypt already. Remember I was telling you both about that really big essay contest I won in third grade when I wrote about the pyramids?”
Charlotte shifted awkwardly in her seat. “Yes…,” she said, looking uncomfortable.
Betsy tossed her head. “If you want me to coauthor the piece, I’d be happy to help you. We wouldn’t have to do any research because I’ve already got tons of information.”
“Maybe it’s not supposed to be all about facts and research, Betsy,” Avery piped in. “The school paper is supposed to be about what’s happening at school…not just a list of boring facts.”
Charlotte cringed. Avery could be so clueless sometimes.
Betsy shrunk back in her seat and whispered hopefully, “Well, if you change your mind…”
“I’ll definitely ask you if I need help on the historical parts,” Charlotte offered with a smile. Betsy wa
s one of those people who was so annoying but nice at the same time. Charlotte certainly didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
“Hey, Izzy, maybe The Sentinel will use your sketches to illustrate Charlotte’s article,” Avery suggested.
“How cool would that be, Iz!” Charlotte said excitedly.
Isabel’s rich brown eyes sparkled. “Oh, I’d love to have my drawings next to your article in The Sentinel!”
“Maybe,” Avery murmured, “you can even draw a pyramid.” She nudged Isabel, and the girls burst out laughing.
“No, maybe I’ll even draw a mummy!” Isabel joked as she reached over and tugged Avery’s hair.
An Egyptian Curse
Once the bus dropped them off at the entrance of Boston’s famous Museum of Fine Arts, the teachers quickly organized students into groups based on who wanted to see what. Avery, Charlotte, and Isabel insisted on being in the same group. “After all,” Avery said, “it doesn’t really matter what we see, as long as we get to hang out together.”
Ms. Rodriguez had split off a number of groups that had already moved off and started touring. “The rest of you will be with Ms. Weston and me,” she said. The BSG turned around. There were four other girls in their group plus Ms. Weston with her happy smile. But the biggest surprise was the last member standing alone with his gigantic backpack. Danny Pellegrino shuffled over to the group and gave Isabel a wide grin. A museum docent, or tour guide, was waiting to escort them around.
Avery looked quickly at their group. “Figures, Danny’s the only guy in our group,” she said in a low voice to Charlotte and Isabel.
“Why do I think this is not an accident?” Charlotte asked.