CHAPTER THREE
A Stroller Ride to the Tool Shed
Mama was walking up the long entryway to the Frampton mansion, pushing a side-by-side stroller which contained Flo and Mo. They had easily convinced her to take them along. To anyone looking at them, the babies were just cooing and gurgling happily like any normal of babies. But in reality their quick minds were also taking in every detail about their surroundings.
"Notice the many Indian carvings and statues in the entry garden," said Flo. "That confirms my earlier observation that the girl has a Native American Indian origin. Her grandmother must be part Indian as well."
"There's a curious lack of gardeners for such a large mansion," observed Mo. "That further confirms that the grandmother was trying to keep a low profile, and hide from someone, by having as few people around as possible."
They had reached the front door. There was no doorbell as in a typical house. Rather, in the fashion of most rich mansions, there was a door knocker in the middle of the door. It was shaped like a gigantic, carved Indian totem pole.
However, not being as observant (or bright) as her babies, Mama did not realize this. She looked right and left for a doorbell button. "Weird," she said to no one in particular. "No doorbell. You'd think they could afford one with a house this size." She turned to look at her babies and suddenly wrinkled up her nose. "Drat! I didn't bring any diapers! Which one of you was it?"
"Flo," said Mo accusingly, in telepathy to his sister. Of course their mother didn't hear him.
"I couldn't help it!" cried Flo. "You know how it is."
"Unfortunately, I do," said Mo.
Suddenly, even though Mama hadn't used the door knocker, the front door opened. A man stood there, dressed in the formal tuxedo outfit of a butler, just like in the movies. "May I help you?" he asked in a deep voice.
"I'm sorry to bother you," said Mama, "but I'm the wife of one of the gardeners. I've come to get some of his tools out of the shed in back." Mo and Flo knew that Mama was merely repeating what the mysterious letter had told her to say, to not raise suspicion. It was obvious that none of the servants were above suspicion, even though they had probably worked there for years. Apparently the old grandmother didn't trust anyone.
"Very good," said the servant, apparently not considering the story at all unusual. "If you will follow me through the house, you may go through the backdoor and across the lawn to the tool shed."
"Excellent!" cried Flo to Mo. "Now we'll get to see the inside of this place."
Mama followed the butler through the door. They found themselves in a massive entry hall, with towering carved figures on both sides. Each figure was of an Indian warrior.
"What do you think, Flo?" asked Mo as they were wheeled across the entryway. "After all, you did a master's thesis on the carvings of different Indian tribes."
"Amazing!" said Flo in wonder, looking wide-eyed at the carvings surrounding them. "They're not like anything you typically find north of the Rio Grande River--or in other words, among Indians in the USA. Their dress is much closer to the ancient Aztecs of Mexico City, 500 years ago!"
"Bizarre," said Mo, his baby face clouding over.
"What does it mean?"
"I'm not sure," said Flo, still looking closely at each figure as they passed it. "It may not mean anything. The old lady may have simply liked Aztec Indian carvings. But somehow, I don't think so. Since she's apparently part Indian herself, she would naturally favor the tribe she was from. Which suggests that she was--"
"An ancient Aztec!" finished Mo. "But that's impossible! They died out hundreds of years ago!"
They found themselves in a large drawing room now. There were exotic, carved sofas, chairs and tables all over. Many of the tables contained Aztec-style Indian carvings, like those in the front hall. There were similar paintings on the walls.
"Fascinating!" was all that Flo said. Mo said nothing. He had yielded to the sudden, unaccountable baby urge to grab one of his toes and suck on it. It was a nasty habit he was trying to break himself from, but the instinct to do it was so strong that he often couldn't help himself.
They passed into another room. On the wall above the fireplace was a painting taller than a man. It was a series of red designs on a white background. The pattern looked like the time Mama had tried to feed them spaghetti, and Flo had pushed her plate onto the floor.
"Look at the pattern in the middle of that painting!" cried Flo. "See the design that looks like a snake winding around a stick? That's the Aztec symbol of nobility--the king's symbol!"
"You mean the girl's grandmother was a king?" asked Mo.
"No, silly, a 'king' can't be a female," replied Flo. "But it suggests she might come from the line of kings."
"Which would mean the girl is from the same line," said Mo.
"Exactly," replied Flo. "And look at the picture on that table! It looks like an old lady and a younger version of the girl that is now at our house!"
"That must be her Grandmother. What do you think of her--does she look Indian?" asked Mo.
"Definitely!" answered Flo. "More than her granddaughter, I'd say."
They had arrived at a back patio. The butler held the door for Mama as she pushed the stroller through it. "You'll find the tool shed just beyond those trees," he said, pointing. Then he disappeared back into the house.
They quickly crossed the lawn, the sun shining brightly onto the stroller. Mama pulled back the sunbonnet so that the sun would not be blocked but would hit her babies with all its force. She had read somewhere that babies thrive in sunlight, so she didn't want to have any blockage.
"I think I'm going to have heat stroke," mumbled Mo, in an out-of-breath voice. "This sun is unbearable!"
"It is rather strong," agreed Flo. "But she means well."
"Hasn't she ever heard of skin cancer?" asked Mo. Fortunately, before he could complain any more they had reached the trees. The tool shed was just beyond it. They crossed a wet patch of red, loamy mud that lay all around the tool shed.
The shed was a stark contrast with the massive mansion they had just passed through. It was old and half falling over. Inside there was very little light, and it contained a rank smell of dead grass and rotting wood.
"I like it!" said Mo as soon as they entered. "I'll bet there are some great bugs in here! Some of them might even be good to eat!" This was another one of his baby urges he found difficult to control.
"Yick!" said Flo in distaste. "You and your bugs."
"Now, my little dumplings," said Mama, taking the mysterious letter out of her pocket. "I'm supposed to pull up the third floor board from the right wall, and the package I've come for is supposed to be underneath, waiting for me."
"Pull up the floorboard?" said Mo. "How is Mama supposed to do that?"
"With a tool, silly," replied Flo. "This shed is full of them."
Indeed it was. There were shovels and hoes and rakes and clippers everywhere. But Mama's thinking was more in line with Mo--she didn't notice any of them. Nor did she seem at all flustered about how she was supposed to pull up the floorboard. She simply went over and counted out the boards, then reached down and ripped the board right out of the floor!
"Easy as pie," she said casually, tossing the board to the side. "Carrying you two around for the last fourteen months has toned up my muscles."
"Impressive!" said Mo, nodding his head in a way that made his double chin wobble. "If Mama takes us down any dark alleys after midnight, we have nothing to worry about if a thief attacks us."
Mama reached into the opening and pulled out an old, leather pouch. And on its front was the same symbol of the snake wound around a stick from the painting in the house!
"Let's see what we've got in here," said Mama, opening the pouch.
"She really shouldn't look at it here, you know," said Flo. "It's too dangerous, since the kidnappers could come back at any time." She craned her neck to try t
o see better. "But since she IS looking, I wish she'd hold it up for us to see!"
As if Mama had heard her, she held up the contents of the bag for them to see. "Weird, huh?" asked Mama. "An old leather apron of some kind, a green headband, and this silly-looking doo-dad that doesn't seem to have any purpose at all. Looks like some kind of scout merit badge, only it's made out of ivory and is bigger."
Flo sucked in her breath as if she had been socked in the stomach. "Oh, my!" she cried. "That 'doo-dad' is the amulet of the royal family! The only person allowed to wear it is the king or queen!"
"Wow!" said Mo. "What about the other stuff?"
"It's also worn by the ruler. In the ancient Aztec culture, the contents of that pouch are priceless! No amount of gold could compare to its value!"
"Silly stuff, if you ask me," said Mama, tossing the items casually back in the bag. Then she hesitated, and pulled out the amulet. "This looks like it would make a good teething ring for one of you." She had read somewhere that objects made out of ivory made the best teethers. She held it out to them. "Wanna try it?"
Both Mo and Flo pulled back as if the snake on the amulet was real and was about to bite them. Mama tossed it back into the bag. "Oh, well," she said. "It was worth a try."
Mama put the bag in the carrying pouch at the back of the stroller, then wheeled her babies back out into the sunlight. "Let's go home and have some cookie dough!" she cried as she charged across the lawn.
"That sounds great, except I'll probably be dead from heat exhaustion before we get there," moaned Mo.
Flo said nothing at all. She was still thinking of the curious amulet in the pouch. What on earth was it doing in a tool shed, of all places? Who had put it there? Of course, it had to have been the girl's grandmother. But why? And most important of all, who was now trying to get it?
It was obvious that whoever they were, they wouldn't stop until they found it. And since it was now in the possession of the Flitz family, that meant their shabby two-story house might have an unwelcome visitor any time now ...