Stealing Magic (24 page)

The postmark read 1937!

“Look on the back,” Mrs. McVittie said.

Ruthie turned it over. In the same lovely handwriting it read:

“It’s addressed to you, dear. Open it!” Mrs. McVittie urged. She handed Ruthie a letter opener. Ruthie made the slit and pulled out a letter, folded once.

“I can’t believe it! How …” Ruthie was so astounded she couldn’t even finish her sentence. “It couldn’t have been sitting there for seventy years; wouldn’t the post office have found it a long time ago?”

“It hasn’t been there that long. Think about it,” Jack said. “It probably just appeared there—not long after we met her family. That would have been after last Saturday, right?”

“Like Sophie’s journal—how the last pages were filled in after we met her and warned her about the French Revolution!” Ruthie felt goose bumps all over.

“Exactly,” Jack concluded. “That is so cool!”

“You two saved her life,” Ms. McVittie said.

Ruthie read the letter from Louisa several more times, wondering what kind of life Louisa had had after the photo album ended. She felt elated and relieved. They had protected the Thorne Rooms from Pandora Pommeroy, and they had succeeded in convincing Louisa and her family to leave Europe. Together, she and Jack had done the right thing. Ruthie thought about Phoebe; giving her the notebook and pencils was such a small gesture. Could she and Jack do more for her?

For safekeeping, Ruthie left the letter from Louisa in a special wooden box in Mrs. McVittie’s guest room, unable to imagine how she would explain such a letter if anyone in her family was to find it.

But the key and now the slave tag—what should they do with them? Ruthie looked at the two side by side in the
palm of her hand, one elaborate, the other plain, both emitting their unusual sparkle. They didn’t belong to her or to Jack, but Ruthie had a feeling that they were trying to tell her something, as though some secret still charged their glittering beauty.

“What do you think, Jack?” Ruthie asked him, the lid of the box still open. “We can’t keep them forever.”

He grinned. “We’ll figure out where to return them. Soon. Okay?”

“Okay!” And with that, she dropped them into the box and shut the lid.

In a book like this
, readers may wonder where fantasy stops and historical fact starts. It’s a very good question. Almost all of the characters here, like those in my previous book,
The Sixty-Eight Rooms
, came from my imagination. Ruthie and Jack, Mrs. McVittie and Dr. Caroline Bell, Louisa and Phoebe—even Dora Pommeroy—are invented. But as every writer understands, they are created out of snippets from lots of people in my life.

Amelia Earhart was, of course, a real person whose life was filled with adventure. The French held her in high regard and awarded her the
Légion d’Honneur
, the highest honor bestowed in France. This medal was given to her after her successful transatlantic flight in 1932. She made that flight in the Red Vega, a model of which I imagined Jack receiving from the souvenir vendor. Earhart made her ill-fated flight exactly at the time that Ruthie and Jack visited Paris—early summer in 1937.

The scene I describe outside Room E27 is historically accurate. One can find documentary photographs of the Exposition Universelle, and even archival film footage on YouTube. In 1937, Europe was on the brink of World War II, and thousands of people had been and would continue to be displaced from their homes and countries, the way Louisa and her family were.

Phoebe is a character whom I imagined living in Charleston, South Carolina, long before the Civil War. The object identified as a “slave tag” is a real remnant from that era in Charleston.

Dora—Pandora Pommeroy—is an invented character, to be sure, but her name comes from Greek mythology. The Pandora of myth was a woman on whom the gods had bestowed great gifts. She opened a box that humans were forbidden to open, and let all the evils of the world escape.

I have imagined my story in the historical contexts prompted by the Thorne Rooms. I would suggest to any reader interested in or inspired by history to learn all you can and imagine yourself in faraway times and places. It may change your perspective on your own world.

To my wonderful family
—Jonathan, Maya, Noni and Henry. You know why.
Merci beaucoup!

To my sister, Emilie Nichols, and my best friend, Anne Slichter, thanks for happy diversions and support along the way.

Thank you to Mican Morgan, the curator of the Thorne Rooms, for answering my questions and for saying when asked by a reporter that Ruthie and Jack’s adventures were only “a little naughty.”

I’m grateful to Professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. for answering my questions about historical language usage.

Huge thanks to Gail Hochman, my agent, who takes such great care of everyone she works with.

Finally, I have written a lot about magic in this story. But my wonderful editor, Shana Corey, performed the real magic. She is tireless, patient and talented. She has my deepest gratitude.

MARIANNE MALONE
is an artist, a former art teacher, and the cofounder of the Campus Middle School for Girls in Urbana, Illinois. She is also the mother of three grown children. Marianne’s first book for children,
The Sixty-Eight Rooms
, was named a Chicago Public Library Best of the Best Book and a
Parents’ Choice
Recommended Award Winner.

GREG CALL
began his career in advertising before becoming a full-time illustrator. He works in various media for clients in music, entertainment, and publishing. Greg lives with his wife and two children in northwestern Montana, where he sculpts, paints, illustrates, and (deadlines permitting) enjoys the great outdoors with his family.