Stealing Magic (6 page)

“All I know is that E27 is most definitely magic,” Ruthie responded. “Or at least it was on Sunday. Let’s go.”

Ruthie and Jack ran along the ledge, past the Chinese interior and a German sitting room. She led Jack to the opening for room E27. Stepping into the beautiful rooftop garden, the two instantly felt what Ruthie had experienced before—it was alive!

“Wow. This is pretty awesome!” Jack looked off into the distance through a window in the high wall that enclosed the garden.

“Jack, watch out!” Ruthie ordered. “People can see you from there.” It was true. Room E27 had two doorways—one leading out to the roof garden, and the other to a balcony. Viewers from the museum could look through either door and see not only the long vistas of Paris but Jack as well. He swung around and ducked out of the way at the very moment a head came into view.

Ruthie joined him in the safe spot. “Isn’t it fantastic?”

“What year did you say it was?” Jack asked.

“The catalogue said 1937—the year of some kind of big fair.” She peeked around the corner. “Come on!”

Jack followed her into the room. “It’s so different from Sophie’s room.” He admired the high ceilings and simple, geometric lines.

“We can’t stay here—the museum is too crowded. Let’s
go out to the balcony.” Ruthie led him out of the room, through the door on the right.

Out there, where no viewers could see them, they heard the sounds of the street mixed with music and voices, just as Ruthie had during her brief first visit. She looked at Jack. “Want to explore?”

“Yes!” he answered.

T
HEY MADE THEIR WAY DOWN
and around—six times—on the outdoor spiral staircase. At the bottom they found themselves in a formal garden courtyard, much like the one on the rooftop. Several beautiful white stone sculptures stood next to precisely trimmed bushes. Aromatic roses bloomed in four squared-off sections with paths in between, and an elaborately decorated wrought-iron gate led to the street. Jack opened it and stuck his head out to check what was happening on the sidewalk.

Ruthie noticed a key hanging from a nail on the garden wall. She put it in one of her pockets to make sure they wouldn’t get locked out, and then joined Jack on the sidewalk. The weighty iron gate clanged shut behind them.

So this is Paris in 1937
, Ruthie thought, wide-eyed, as she looked all around. White stone buildings—uniformly about six stories tall—faced the wide boulevard. Sycamore
trees trimmed into perfect rectangles lined the streets. Ruthie thought they looked like giant leafy ice cream bars on sticks. A few blocks off, the Eiffel Tower rose high above all the other buildings. A well-dressed woman walked by carrying in a little basket the smallest dog Ruthie had ever seen.

Another woman passed them pulling a wheeled shopping cart, a baguette sticking out from the top. Except for the hairdos and clothes and the shapes of the cars, it looked just like the pictures in her mother’s books. The women all wore dresses or skirts and high heels and had neatly waved hair. Most of the men were in suits and leather shoes—no blue jeans or sneakers in sight. The sidewalks were dotted with cafés on every corner, filled with people, many of them smoking cigarettes, which made Ruthie aware of all the other scents around her; strong coffee, car exhaust, perfumes. The sun shone midday bright.

“What month do you think it is?” Jack asked.

“Early summer?” Ruthie saw that the leaves on the trees still looked light green and fresh. They walked down the street, getting a few stares but mostly being ignored. They noted the street signs so they would be sure not to get lost as they wandered.

When Ruthie and Jack had met Sophie in Paris in the eighteenth century, the Eiffel Tower hadn’t been built yet. But now, turning a corner, they found themselves standing at the top of a long, open pedestrian space spreading out
in front of them. The beautiful metalwork tower stood at the far end. What must have been thousands of people filled their view.

“I can’t believe we’re really here!”

“Me neither!” Jack agreed.

Ruthie mentally compared the scene to the pictures in her mother’s books. She recognized this view of the city as the Jardins du Trocadéro. A long, rectangular fountain ran down the center of the gardens, its jets spraying water dramatically into the air. The ground sloped to the Seine River and a bridge that people walked across to the Eiffel Tower. That was all the same as in the books. However, the park was lined with small buildings of different styles, with flags of various countries waving near the doors or from the rooftops. Ruthie couldn’t be absolutely certain, but she didn’t remember any of these buildings from the books. Two of these structures at the end of the park stood out from the rest; they were larger and faced each other.

“Let’s walk down there,” she suggested.

Everyone seemed interested in this pair of unusual buildings on either side of the wide promenade. When Ruthie and Jack neared the end they stopped to look at them.

“Whoa.” Ruthie gazed up at a tall, tower-like structure. It was all white stone and designed with straight vertical lines, which made it seem even taller. A huge sculpture of an eagle perched on the top, its lifelike eyes intense and focused on the park below. Flagpoles on the ground surrounded the structure. On each pole they saw the flag of Nazi Germany. Even though the sun was shining, Ruthie felt a chill.

“What do you know about this time in history—1937?” Ruthie asked, once again glad that Jack was such a history buff.

“It was before the start of World War Two, but just barely, I think. Germany was getting pretty powerful—that’s probably why this is the tallest of all these buildings.” He turned to look directly across at the other side of the promenade. “Look at that one.”

Ruthie pivoted and saw the second-tallest structure. It was made of gray stone and had two huge statues—a man and a woman—on the top of it. The figures seemed to be striding forward with large steps and together held something above their heads.

“Do you know what they’re holding?” Ruthie asked.

“That’s the hammer and sickle from the Soviet flag. See, there’s the flag.” Jack pointed to two red flags on flagpoles next to the door of the structure. “From when Russia was called the Soviet Union.”

“This one gives me the creeps too,” she responded. “These two buildings look like they’re competing with each other.”

“That would make sense. Germany and the Soviet Union were enemies in World War Two.”

She looked up at the two menacing towers; a wave of fear ran through her, and she unconsciously took a step
back. But as she did so, she felt her foot step on something before it hit the ground—something soft that gave a little yelp. Ruthie caught herself and turned fast, nearly tripping. The yelp had come from a little dachshund.

“Frieda!” the girl at the other end of the leash said. “Sitz!” The obedient dog sat.

“I’m so sorry,” Ruthie apologized.

“No, I am sorry. She shouldn’t be underfoot!”

“She’s really cute!” Ruthie reached down to stroke the little dog.

“Are you from America?” the girl asked.

“Yes,” Jack answered. “My name’s Jack, and this is Ruthie.”

“I am Louisa.” She looked to be about the same age as them. She wore a cotton print dress with a blue cardigan sweater. Only the top button was buttoned, which seemed to be the style on lots of women out walking. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face with two fancy clips. “I could tell from your accent—and your clothes.” Ruthie and Jack both wore blue jeans and sneakers. Jack had the image of Sue the dinosaur from the Field Museum on his T-shirt, her toothy
T. rex
smile poking out from under his sweatshirt jacket. Ruthie wore a blue sweatshirt with the Oakton logo printed on it. “Does everyone dress like this in America these days?”

“In Chicago,” Jack answered. “That’s where we’re from.”

“I have heard there are gangsters there!” Louisa said.

Ruthie was about to answer no, but Jack answered first.
“It’s true. Al Capone.” Ruthie had no idea what Jack was talking about, so she kept quiet. “The FBI has caught most of them, though. It’s pretty safe now.”

“What are you doing in Paris?” Louisa asked.

Again Jack answered quickly. “Our dad is here on business. It’s our second time in Paris.”

At least that’s half true
, Ruthie thought.

“What about you?” Ruthie asked. She had noticed right away that this girl’s perfect English had an accent that didn’t sound French. And she was pretty sure that when the girl had told her dog to sit, she hadn’t said it in French.

“I am German. My family came to Paris a few months ago.” She changed the subject. “What do you think of the exposition?”

“We don’t know much about it. What’s it all about?”

Frieda whimpered and tugged on the leash, so they all started walking alongside the fountain as Louisa talked.

“This is the Exposition Universelle. The organizers say it is meant to celebrate progress and the future. Every country has a pavilion.” She gestured to the structures that lined the park. “Each pavilion shows what is new in that country.”

“Oh, I get it,” Ruthie said. “It’s a World’s Fair.” Her father had told her about some famous buildings in Chicago built for one of those fairs a long time ago. The three of them walked up and down the Jardins du Trocadéro; they noted the pavilions of Poland, Finland, and Spain (Louisa helped them recognize the names with
their foreign spellings). These buildings sat lower and welcomed visitors, unlike the looming structures from Germany and the Soviet Union, which seemed to command,
Stay out!

Louisa asked all kinds of questions about Chicago, and told Ruthie and Jack a lot about Paris and Berlin and the people of the two cities.

“The secret is,” she began, “sometimes I feel rather out of place here. Parisians are so different from Berliners.”

“You’d fit in at our school,” Jack said. “Everyone is pretty different.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Lots of our classmates’ families come from somewhere else. Even our teacher, Ms. Biddle, grew up outside of the States—her mom’s Nigerian and her dad’s from England,” Jack explained.

“That sounds fun,” Louisa said.

“Do you go to school here?” Ruthie asked.

“No, since it is temporary. My brother and I have a tutor for lessons, though.” Then she turned toward the river and pointed. “The United States pavilion is down by the Seine over there.”

“Let’s go see it,” Ruthie suggested.

They walked to the bridge that crossed the Seine, seeing the tourist boats pass under. The sunlight hit the waves created by them, glints bouncing off the white foam. On the other side, they turned to the right, passing the pavilions of Great Britain, Sweden, and Czechoslovakia. The
U.S. pavilion was a symmetrical building with a windowed tower in the middle that was much taller than the rest of the building. A single U.S. flag waved on top. It looked like a typical office building. There was a long line of people waiting to go inside, and Ruthie and Jack knew they didn’t have time for that.

“You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” Jack suddenly said. “Stand right under the Eiffel Tower.”

“Now’s your chance!” Ruthie responded. They backtracked to the tower.

“This is awesome!” Jack said as he found the spot directly under the center of the tower. “If you look long enough, it seems like it’s spinning!”

The four massive legs sloped up around them and the rays of the sun poked through the metal lattice. It seemed so much bigger than either of them had expected.

“It is beautiful, no?” Louisa offered.

“It really is,” Ruthie agreed. Then she heard a man’s voice that seemed to be directed at them, even though she couldn’t make out anything he was saying. Ruthie saw that a vendor a few feet away was calling to them and laughing a bit. “Is he saying something to us?” she asked Louisa.

“Uh, well, yes,” Louisa answered tentatively.

“What’s he saying?”

“He is asking if you are American. He says you are dressed like them,” Louisa translated.

Ruthie felt a little insulted, but Jack just laughed. “He’s got that right. Hey, what’s he selling?”