Saving the Statue of Liberty

by Andrea Jo Rodgers

  “Not right now, John. I don’t think he’s thirsty. Maybe we can rinse his eyes with water in the bathroom,” Annabelle said.

  “No, not to drink. Milk to put on his face. It helps to neutralize the capsaicin,” John explained.

  “Maybe we can get some in the cafeteria downstairs. I’ll run down and see if they have any,” Shaniqua said.

  “I have some.” He rushed over to his backpack and pulled out a small milk carton. It had thawed to just the right temperature. Mentally, he thanked his aunt for telling him to pack it. “Does anyone have a washcloth?”

  “I have some paper towels right here.” Felicia pulled them from the lower shelf of her desk and passed them to John.

  He saturated them with milk to create cool compresses, then placed them on Raphael’s face. “Capsaicin is like an oil. It doesn’t mix so well with water, but milk works better. Does anyone have saline that we could use to rinse his eyes?”

  “Oh, I’m sure I have saline somewhere in here.” Annabelle rummaged through her backpack for a small bottle.

  “An ambulance is on the way,” Felicia said. “It should be here in about ten minutes.”

  “No, thanks,” Raphael said. “You can cancel it. I’ll be fine.”

  “He’s all right, really. Thanks for everything,” Annabelle said, gently pulling Raphael to his feet.

  Felicia crossed her arms over her chest. “I insist that someone check you out. We need to make sure your eyes are okay.”

  Annabelle spoke with a low voice that only Team Liberty could hear. “We’re going to have to sneak away. I’ll distract her and you guys make a run for it.”

  “I saw a family restroom around the corner. We can rinse his eyes there,” Shaniqua whispered to her teammates.

  “Felicia, can I show you something in my bag?” Annabelle asked, directing the guard’s attention away from the rest of Team Liberty.

  Shaniqua, Raphael, and John rushed into the bathroom and locked the door. John peeled off the milk-saturated paper towels and cringed at the sight of Raphael’s swollen red face. Shaniqua began irrigating his eyes with saline.

  A minute later, Annabelle rejoined them. “I gave Felicia the slip. I’ll text Mr. Jorgenson. Team Mischief went too far this time. They could’ve really hurt you. I bet he’ll want you to see the school nurse as soon as we get back.”

  “I think it’s getting a little better,” Raphael finally managed to say. “I’m just sorry I didn’t somehow get out of the way in time. And I messed up us getting the next clue. Now we’ll have to go back in the tunnel again to look for it, and Felicia’s probably already suspicious as it is.”

  “The clue,” John blurted out. “I think I may have found it.” He pulled the now-crumpled envelope from his pocket and handed it to Shaniqua. The words Team Liberty were neatly written on the front.

  “That’s terrific news!” Shaniqua exclaimed. “Good work.”

  “Mr. Jorgenson said that Maleficus Academy made two sets of clues for this mission. Devlin’s crew already found their copy, but at least we’re not too far behind,” Annabelle mused.

  Shaniqua pulled a 3 x 5 inch index card from the envelope. She turned it one way, then the other, and studied it from various angles. “I don’t get it,” she said. “It’s completely blank.”

  “I can’t believe it. We finally find the clue, and it’s blank. I wonder if Devlin took our clue out and stuck in this blank one to trick us,” John said.

  Raphael reached into his pocket. “I can’t look at it. My eyes still hurt too much, but here’s my magnifying glass.”

  Shaniqua inspected the index card. “I don’t see anything at all. Does someone else want to look?”

  Annabelle reached for the card and magnifying glass. “Was the envelope sealed when you opened it?”

  “Yes, glued shut. I don’t think they tampered with it,” Shaniqua said.

  “Unless they switched the envelope completely,” John suggested.

  Shaniqua frowned. “It would be cheating, but I wouldn’t put it past them.”

  Annabelle held the index card carefully by its edges. “Let’s get out of this bathroom and go outside where we can think more clearly. Are you well enough to walk downstairs, Raphael?”

  “Yes, I’m doing much better, thanks. Let’s go.” The redness and blotchiness on his face began to fade a bit.

  They retraced their steps, passing by a neat array of small curved platforms of varying heights covered by thick netting. The Infinity Climber would be fun to explore later if we have time.

  Team Liberty rushed down the stairs to the second floor. Annabelle pointed to a set of doors leading to an outdoor adventure area. Off to one side, there were white metal picnic tables shaded by a few leafy green trees.

  “We can work out here,” she suggested.

  They settled down at one of the tables.

  “Let me peek,” Raphael said. He studied the card for several long minutes. “It’s no use. The message might as well be written with invisible ink.”

  “Raphael, you’re a genius,” Annabelle declared. “I bet it is written with invisible ink. Shaniqua, we know how much you love grape juice. Got any?”

  “Of course. Coming right up.” Shaniqua grabbed a juice pouch from her backpack.

  John learned in science class how to create an invisible message by writing with a Q-tip dipped in a mixture of baking soda and water. When it dried, he and his lab partner revealed the message by painting across it with a thin layer of grape juice. The juice contained a weak acid that reacted with the baking soda.

  “I took some extra paper towels from the bathroom for my eyes. They aren’t as good as a sponge or paintbrush, but they should do the trick.” Raphael passed them to Annabelle, who carefully moistened the index card with juice.

  “I’m starting to see something, but I can’t quite make out the letters yet,” Annabelle said.

  Shaniqua pulled out her pencil from behind her ear. “I see it too. I think it spells FAEAHIG. It must be a code. If I convert the letters to numbers, it’s 6-1-5-1-8-9-7.”

  “Could it be a phone number?” Raphael asked. “615-1897.”

  “But it’s missing an area code,” Annabelle pointed out.

  “How about using the local area code here?” Shaniqua suggested.

  Annabelle punched the numbers into her cell phone. “It’s worth a try. I’ll use speaker phone so we can all hear.”

  “Joe’s Pizza,” a deep male voice answered.

  “Sorry. Wrong number,” Annabelle replied with disappointment.

  Raphael tapped his fingers on the table as he considered other possibilities. “Maybe a locker combination?”

  “But where would the locker be?” Shaniqua pondered.

  Raphael rubbed his left eye. “Could it be a date? You know, like June 15, 1897?”

  John recognized that date. He’d read about it in his great-great-great-uncle George’s journal. “That’s the date of the great fire at Ellis Island.”

  “That’s it!” Annabelle declared. “I bet our next clue will be at Ellis Island.”

  Shaniqua held up the card. “Look. More letters are appearing.”

  FAEAHIG

  WHO WAS THE FIRST?

  “I think we better get on our way.” Annabelle stood up and slung her backpack over her shoulders. “We can try to figure out what the rest of it means on our way to Ellis Island. It’s just across the water from the old train terminal, where we were this morning.”

  Raphael jumped to his feet. “Sounds like a plan.”

  CHAPTER 8

  The warm afternoon sun beat down on the top of John’s head, and he wiped away beads of sweat that trickled down to the tip of his nose. He gulped his water as they jogged toward the old train terminal.

  “We can walk along these old abandoned railroad tracks,” Annabelle suggested.

  John carefully stepped along the wooden railroad ties. An old red railcar as well as an army green one stood at the far end of the tracks. A
family with several small children posed for a photograph in front of them. No time to stop for a photo, he thought. We need to keep going.

  The New York City skyscrapers rose majestically from the distant harbor in a warm array of muted colors: charcoal gray, pale green, red, blue, and beige. John marveled at how the buildings didn’t look real but rather like a movie set.

  “We’ll have to catch a ferry to Ellis Island.” Raphael pointed toward the white security screening building ahead, next to the Hudson River and the Liberty Walk.

  “Look how long the line is. We don’t even have tickets. What if they’re all sold out?” Shaniqua asked.

  “We’ll just have to take our chances. We don’t have much of a choice,” Raphael said.

  Team Liberty fretted as they waited for their turn to purchase tickets. Finally, they reached the front of the line. “The next ferry I can get you on leaves in two hours,” the ticket attendant said.

  Annabelle groaned. “Are you sure you don’t have anything that leaves sooner? We’re in a hurry.”

  The attendant smiled. “Aren’t we all?” She told them the cost, and Annabelle passed her several bills in exchange for four ferry tickets.

  “Don’t forget to go through security,” the attendant said. “It’s a busy day, so it might take a while.”

  As Team Liberty strode toward the security building, they watched as a ferry pulled away.

  “I don’t believe it. I see Devlin,” Raphael said.

  “Not good. They’re going to have a big lead. How will we ever catch up?” John asked.

  Devlin, Malicia, and Slade caught sight of them too. Devlin put his thumb on his nose and wiggled his fingers. Malicia stuck out her tongue. Slade pointed at Team Liberty, obviously laughing.

  Shaniqua rolled her eyes. “Gee, how mature of them.”

  “We cannot let them win,” Annabelle declared.

  Raphael pointed to a bridge in the far distance. “I think that bridge goes directly across the river to Ellis Island. Maybe we could take that instead of trying to catch a ferry.”

  “I’m pretty sure that bridge isn’t open to the public,” John said. “I think it’s for Ellis Island employees and police cars.”

  Annabelle took her cell phone out of her pocket. “I’ll call Teesha. She can have a police car meet us at the security booth and drive us over the bridge.”

  Shaniqua nodded. “Great thinking. It would take too long to walk.” The group waited for Annabelle to finish talking to Teesha. “Now we have to figure out where to go once we get to Ellis Island. The clue asked, ‘Who was the first?’”

  Annabelle looked up from her phone. “It says here that before Ellis Island was an immigration station, the Native Americans called it Kioshk, which means ‘Gull Island.’ During the English and Dutch colonial periods, they called it Oyster Island due to its rich oyster beds. It started as 3.3 acres, but they used landfill to increase it to 27.5 acres.”

  “That would give enough space to build an immigration center. Who was the first to own the island before the government?” John asked.

  “I found a site that says Samuel Ellis became the first private owner of the island in the 1770s. Perhaps ‘the first’ is referring to him,” Shaniqua said.

  Raphael paused to tie his sneaker. “That would make sense. But it doesn’t help to tell us where to go once we get there.”

  “Ellis Island first opened in 1892 and stayed open until 1954. There were over twelve million immigrants who came through Ellis Island during that time,” Annabelle said.

  “I wonder who the first passenger through the gates was,” John said.

  “Good question,” Raphael said as they continued along the red-paver promenade and up a short flight of five concrete steps. “Who was the first person to officially register on Ellis Island?”

  Shaniqua pointed toward a shady bench. “Let’s stop and rest for a minute, and I’ll look it up. This website says here that Annie Moore was a seventeen-year-old girl traveling with her two younger brothers, Anthony and Phillip, to meet their parents in America. They left County Cork, Ireland, aboard the SS Nevada on December 20, 1891, and arrived in New York on New Year’s Eve. Colonel John Weber, the federal superintendent of immigration for the port of New York, gave her a ten-dollar gold coin for being the very first to be processed at Ellis Island.”

  “Doesn’t Ellis Island have a museum?” Raphael asked. “I wonder if there’s an exhibit about her.”

  “Yes, it says on this website that there’s a statue of Annie Moore at the Irish port of Queenstown as well as one in the Ellis Island museum,” Shaniqua answered. “Maybe that’s what the clue is referring to.”

  “Okay, so the first thing we’ll do is find the statue of Annie Moore. Let’s hope she’s holding our next clue,” Annabelle said.

  Reinvigorated by their brief rest and new sense of direction, the four rushed along the promenade toward the security booth. John observed the vast expanse of deep blue water with awe. As they drew closer, he could see a white police SUV with a horizontal blue stripe crossing the long, narrow bridge, heading away from Ellis Island. I hope they’re coming to meet us.

  Shaniqua glanced at her wristwatch. “I’m afraid Team Mischief is already there.”

  Team Liberty rushed up to a small security building at the base of the bridge. It had a red brick base topped with shiny glass windows and a blue roof. A young guard holding a clipboard stepped out of the booth to greet them.

  “Team Liberty?” he asked. When the four eagerly nodded, he said, “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Just then, the police SUV John had spotted earlier pulled up alongside them. “Officer Valdez will take you across. Have a safe trip.”

  “Thank you so much. We really appreciate it.” Annabelle climbed into the front seat and the rest clambered into the back.

  “Hi, everyone. Are you all buckled in?” Officer Valdez asked, shifting the SUV into gear. “I heard you’re on a special mission. I hope you’re not expecting us to have any trouble here.”

  “We’re investigating a lead, but honestly, we’re not sure where it’ll take us,” Shaniqua said.

  John stared out the window as their vehicle passed slowly across the narrow bridge. In the distance, the Statue of Liberty proudly held her torch high for all to see.

  Officer Valdez pulled up in front of the main building of Ellis Island. “I have a guest pass for each of you. Just clip it onto your shirt. It should get you where you need to go.” He handed each of them a laminated entry ticket. “Good luck and let us know if you need a ride back.”

  CHAPTER 9

  John gazed up the impressive red brick immigration building, noting the breathtaking multistory arched windows, impressive towers, and long entrance canopy. A large sign stating “Ellis Island National Museum of Immigration” stood beside the canopy.

  Annabelle stepped inside and paused to read a placard. “This is called the Baggage Room. When the immigrants first arrived, they checked their luggage here.”

  “I remember learning in school that immigrants commonly complained about losing luggage, so some insisted on carrying their baggage with them,” Raphael said.

  “If you only had a few possessions in the world, it would be terrible to lose them. No wonder some of the people didn’t want to let them go,” John added.

  Shaniqua tightened her grip on the straps of her backpack. “I’d definitely hang on to mine.”

  “The Peopling of America exhibit just ahead looks at immigration from 1550 to 1890,” Annabelle said. “Maybe the statue is there.”

  “The other exhibit on this floor is New Eras of Immigration: 1945–Present. I doubt the statue would be there,” Shaniqua said.

  The four passed into the Peopling of America area and walked through the “Struggle and Survival” section, searching for information about Annie Moore.

  “I don’t see anything about Annie. Could we have missed it?” Shaniqua asked.

  “No, I don’t think so. Let
’s check the second floor,” Raphael suggested.

  After climbing a long flight of stairs, they arrived in the Great Hall, also called the Registry Room. Enormous arched windows lit up the giant area. Several long wooden benches were on display, hinting at how immigrants must have crowded into this room and waited in line to be registered and undergo medical and legal screenings.

  “Definitely no statue here,” John said.

  Annabelle looked ahead. “Let’s try the Through America’s Gate exhibit. I think it describes what immigrants experienced when they first arrived here.”

  Shaniqua pointed to the other side of the room. “And the Peak Immigration Years: 1880–1924 exhibit is over there.”

  They worked their way through various displays, including one that showed the different types of shoes that children wore when they first arrived at Ellis Island and another that listed reasons why immigrants couldn’t enter the United States.

  Raphael led the group around a corner. “Look down there. I think that’s her.”

  They rushed over to a tall bronze statue of a young woman holding her hat onto her head with her left hand and grasping a suitcase with her right. Her coat sported two large front pockets. A placard on the marble base of the statue stated, “Annie Moore, First Immigrant Processed at Ellis Island, January 1, 1892.”

  “I sure hope the clue is here. If it’s not, we’re really going to fall behind,” Shaniqua said.

  “Hey, I see Devlin and Malicia rounding the corner up ahead. Devlin’s holding an envelope in his left hand. I bet it’s a clue,” Raphael said.

  John glanced up just in time to see a huge upper arm with a snake tattoo disappear from view. That’s Devlin, all right. If they just found the next clue, that means we’re not too far behind after all.

  Annabelle knelt behind the statue. “There’s an envelope taped on the base.” She gently removed it and took out a small piece of paper.

  “What’s it say?” Shaniqua asked.

  “It’s a diagram of a person’s ear.” Annabelle held it up so they could all see it. “Does anyone have any ideas?”