Chapter Seven
A Curious Thing
At this point, there could be heard a great clamor of jingles and jangles, signaling the approach of another adult. But this was not the dreaded jingle-jangle of Jasper’s key ring. No, this was a noise that was much more pleasant to the ear, for it was generated by none other than Ms. Waffler, one of Hollow Oak Elementary’s most beloved teachers.
Artistically expressive (to put it mildly), Ms. Waffler always wore a great variety of bracelets, necklaces, and interesting doodads upon her person. There were plenty of beads, bells, and charms, which resulted in her becoming a sort of walking wind chime as she moved around. She had something of a musical quality about her, which was further enhanced by the humming that she oftentimes engaged in (as was now the case).
Ms. Waffler, free of spirit and easily entranced, had become distracted by other exhibits within this rather large portion of the museum. Though she was the second chaperone of the school field trip, she had apparently missed the entire episode involving Maria and the Guardian Lion. Now, she was finally meandering over, humming melodically, her face stretched into a wide, brilliant smile.
Imbued with a perpetually positive outlook on life, Ms. Waffler was always in high spirits. The ever present bounce to her step suggested that powerful springs may have been hidden somewhere in the heels of her shoes. Today, however, she was particularly happy. The many wonders of the museum had lifted her to greater heights of cheerfulness, amplifying her zest for life.
“I trust these children aren’t giving you any trouble?” Ms. Waffler asked Evelyn. She turned toward the Beans, offering a surreptitious wink. “I suppose I should be paying closer attention to them, but these magnificent exhibits are just so enchanting!”
“It’s certainly nothing that can’t be… handled,” Evelyn assured her.
The Beans had no difficulty believing that the curator could manage whatever challenges fell into her lap. After all, she had just dispensed of Jasper in record time, without so much as blinking. There was no doubt about it – Evelyn Magellan was a competent, confident individual. The Beans certainly appreciated her dismantling of Jasper, but they didn’t fool themselves into thinking that she was their ally… this was a woman who should not be tested.
“Splendid, splendid!” Ms. Waffler exclaimed. She quickly became distracted by something else that had caught her eye, and began wandering off. “Ooh, what’s that over there? I should say that it warrants a closer examination...”
As the eccentric teacher turned, her handbag (fashioned after a slice of watermelon) spun about on her shoulder, and her long, colorful skirt twirled like the innards of a kaleidoscope.
Neil stood on his tippy-toes in order to get a better look at Ms. Waffler’s mass of frizzy, disorganized hair as she departed. He was still trying to prove his theory that there might be a bird or two living within his teacher’s impressively tall stack of disarrayed hair. Neil hadn’t yet been able to spot any feathered creatures roosting atop Ms. Waffler’s head, but he remained ever hopeful.
“I think it’s safe to say that we have spent quite enough time in this part of the museum,” Evelyn dryly noted, directing her words at the Beans, and at Maria in particular. “I run this tour on a very tight schedule, and you’ve taken it upon yourselves to cause me unnecessary delay.”
“Again, I’m very sorry, ma’am,” Maria told her. “Sometimes my imagination gets the best of me, but I won’t let it happen again. The last thing I want is for any harm to come to your beautiful museum… or, er, to hold you up from your other responsibilities. It’s a real privilege to be able to come and visit.”
“We’re very thankful for your surprise invitation, I might add,” Neil put in, hoping to smooth things over.
The students and faculty of Hollow Oak Elementary had been filled with joy when, out of the blue, the museum had contacted the school two days previous. The purpose for the call had been to extend a most gracious invitation – a day at the museum, with all expenses paid.
This included the price of admission, lunch, and even transportation. The museum had chartered private, luxurious buses to bring the students from Hollow Oak to Portsmouth, which was a neighboring town, located on the New Hampshire seacoast.
It was a fantastic treat, and the fact that it had been so unexpected, and delivered on such short notice, made it all the more delightful. The schoolchildren were having a wonderful time, and Maria certainly did not wish to upset their generous hosts.
Ms. Waffler had been sent as the chaperone (unfortunately, Jasper had insisted on coming along, as well), while the rest of the school’s staff remained behind, engaging in a much needed “catch up day” for administrative duties.
Curiously, the museum had not been particularly clear as to the reason for the impromptu invitation that had been so graciously extended. There had only been a vague reference to some cancellation that had occurred, leaving a vacancy that required filling.
But this was of little concern. The opportunity was one that had thrilled the administrators of the school, and they had been quick to accept the generous offer, pleased to be able to expose their students to such an educational treat. The fact that it would not cost the school (or the students’ parents) a single cent, had made the decision an easy one.
It was peculiar, then, that the curator’s brisk, standoffish demeanor was largely at odds with the generosity and kindness that the museum had displayed in extending its invitation. The professional, yet cold, attitude of Evelyn Magellan was a stark contrast to the graciousness one would have expected from the staff of such a benevolent enterprise.
Perhaps, the Beans thought, the decision had been made above the curator’s head, and she was displeased with it. Maybe she was upset that the museum’s generosity had resulted in her having to indulge a herd of rambunctious schoolchildren, distracting her from her more pressing responsibilities.
“Indeed. I’m sure you’re all very grateful,” Evelyn said, in answer to Neil’s sentiment. She spoke without very much enthusiasm, granting the impression that she cared not one whit whether another child ever set foot in the Portsmouth Museum of Historical Artifacts. With a crisp motion of her wrist, she consulted the face of her watch. “It seems that I’ve lost too much time. I’m going to have to pass my tour duties off to my assistant.”
As Evelyn looked at her watch, Maria noticed a rather curious thing. When the curator had moved her arm and bent her elbow, the sleeve of her suit jacket and blouse had inched up her forearm a small amount. This had made the delicate, silver watch visible at her wrist. But it had also made something else detectable, if only for the briefest of moments.
Evelyn Magellan had a tattoo. This struck Maria as incredibly odd, for such a thing directly contrasted the aura of professionalism that the curator projected. Maria tilted her head, so as to try to get a better look at the tattoo, but it was only visible for as long as it took Evelyn to check her watch – perhaps a second or two. Further complicating the matter was the presence of the watch’s silver band, which partially concealed the tattoo, obstructing it to some extent.
Positioned at the underside of the woman’s wrist, the tattoo was dark in color. It was not very large, measuring at about an inch in diameter. As for what it actually was… that was a bit more difficult to ascertain. As far as Maria could tell, it looked a bit like a cooking pot with two handles, like the kind that her parents would use to boil large amounts of pasta or ears of corn.
This struck Maria as an awfully strange choice. Why would anybody – much less somebody like Evelyn Magellan – choose to get a cooking pot tattooed onto her wrist?