The Atomic Weight of Secrets or The Arrival of the Mysterious Men in Black (44 page)

OR

THE FIRST CAR AND WHAT THEY FOUND THERE

T
he children had taken many a roundabout route to their Dayton, Ohio homes. But the roundabout route they took that Sunday was, without question, totally different. They first drove the entire perimeter of the city. Then they drove through the city, and back out. They inched farther and farther from their neighborhood.

“We’re not going home, are we?” Lucy asked her brother, hoping for an answer she knew she would not get.

Jasper pulled her close. He had nothing to say. No one in the back of the car was in the mood to talk.

Lucy turned around to wave at Miss Brett’s car behind them, and she continued to wave as the car followed them through several twists and turns. As they cut through town, though, Miss Brett’s car turned left while their own car continued straight. Lucy waved frantically, as if this would bring her back.

“Is Miss Brett going somewhere else?” Faye asked the driver.

Either he chose not to answer the question or the large, fuzzy black earmuffs he wore made it impossible for him to hear. So the
five children, once again knowing not at all what was in store for them, could do nothing but watch as Miss Brett’s car disappeared around the corner.

Lucy, unsure if Miss Brett saw her wave, tried to stifle a whimper. Jasper hugged his sister and handed her a handkerchief when the tears came down.

Resting in the back of the car as it motored bumpily along was not easy, but they were all tired and worried and tired of worrying. After what seemed like hours, they dozed off.

“It’s getting late,” said Faye, who was the first to wake. She looked at the last remnants of light in the waning sky. She guessed it was long past supper.

As the rest of them, awakened by Faye, stretched and wiped the sleep from their eyes, Noah, yawning, asked, “Are we anywhere yet?”

Looking out the window, none of the children recognized where they were.

Except Lucy. “This is the way to the train station,” she said.

The view, though, was of a street that looked just like any street—until the car took a sharp left, and then another left, and then a right. There, in front of them, was the train station. The car stopped behind three other black cars.

“Out,” said the driver. He spoke very loudly. Jasper assumed this was because he could not hear himself with those fuzzy black earmuffs covering his ears.

All of the children piled out of the car. They looked around to
see if Miss Brett was anywhere to be seen. She was not.

“Do you know where—” Faye began, but she was cut off with the swish of an arm in front of her nose. The driver pointed to the train yard.

“But is Miss Brett—” Lucy tried to ask, but the driver again swished and pointed.

“The blackguard,” mumbled Faye, helping Lucy out of the car.

The children walked slowly toward the train. As they got closer, wondering what direction to take, a man in a large black conical hat and dark oval glasses appeared, pointing in the direction of the outbound trains. Another man with a black eyepatch over one eye and a dark monocle over the other, wearing a black sea captain’s jacket and cap, followed several yards after him, pointing toward Platform Seventeen. There, they found just one train, of a shiny green and gold color, that appeared as if someone had just polished it, engine to caboose.

“It’s beautiful,” said Lucy. And it was. There were four long cars, all sparkling green with gold trim. The windows reflected like mirrors so the children could not see inside. A man in a black conductor’s suit, a black conductor’s hat, and dark spectacles looked at his shiny black conductor’s watch. He pointed to the last car, and the children gingerly stepped up and aboard.

The inside was even more beautiful. The aisle of the last car was carpeted in beautiful floral patterns, and the walls were papered in deep green and gold. The doors were made of maple, and stained a deep reddish brown. Instead of compartments, there was a lounge and a cozy salon, with thick soft chairs and ornately crafted tables. Toward the middle of the car, the aisle
led into a large room with a tall glass dome ceiling. It was like no observation room any of them had ever seen.

“You can see the sky,” said Noah. The glass was perfectly clear—it was like looking out of a giant bubble. A stairway led up to a thin balcony that went around the perimeter of the dome. The children walked up and wandered around the circle of glass. They could see everything.

“Look at all the people rushing around down there,” said Noah, pointing down. It felt as if they were two stories up.

“A train can’t be this tall,” insisted Faye. But it was, or seemed to be.

“Look at the sky,” said Lucy, pointing up. She waved, but no one outside seemed to see her. “It must reflect like the glass of the windows. No one can see in, but we can see out.”

“It’s like we’re invisible,” said Jasper, watching as everyone rushed back and forth along the platform.

“It must be beautiful looking out of there when the train is moving,” Faye said. “I’ll bet it feels like... like—”

“Like you’re flying?” said Noah.

Faye blushed.

“Come on,” said Jasper, descending the stairs. “Let’s see what else is here.”

They left the dome room, moving toward the front of the train, through a set of stained glass doors that led to the third car. They found themselves in another aisle, this one lined with paintings in between the windows. The windows were on one side, and on the other was a row of big wooden doors. Assuming these must be the compartments, Lucy turned the knob on the first one. It wasn’t locked.

“Go ahead, Lucy,” said Noah, “Open the door.”

The fact that the room was empty of people was a surprise to no one. What was a surprise, though, was that it was nothing like any cabin in any train the children had ever seen. The cabin was furnished like a fabulously luxurious bedroom. In the middle were a large four-poster bed with a lace canopy and two small beds that closely resembled the large one.

“Look,” said Jasper, walking across the room. He picked up the small glass jug of water that sat on the bedside table. “That reminds me of Mummy.”

Lucy walked over and held her brother’s hand.

“Where is everyone?” asked Lucy, concern creeping into her voice. “Why have they left us here alone?” Jasper kissed the top of her head.

The children opened the next door. It, too, was beautifully furnished, with two identical and very beautiful beds right next to one another. The whole room was filled with bouquets of flowers.

“That makes me think of
my
mother,” said Noah with a sigh. “Someone is always sending her flowers.”

The next room had beautiful Asian art and a satin spread over a large bed in the center of the room. A smaller day bed covered in red and orange silk pillows stood against the wall. The room smelled of sandalwood and jasmine incense. Faye was reminded of her own room back in New Delhi.

In the fourth room, Wallace saw the glass slides mounted on the wall between the two beds and thought of his father.

The last room was smaller, with one bed in it, covered with a soft peach-colored cotton quilt. The window had lace curtains.

The room smelled of lavender, but was empty of life. There were no people to be found anywhere.

“What do we do?” asked Lucy as they reached the end of the car.

“We should be used to being abandoned by now,” said Faye.

They pulled apart the train car doors and crossed from the third car into the second. The second car, they quickly discovered, was at least as remarkable as the third.

At the end, where they entered, there were several desks against the walls—five to be exact. These were great wooden desks with chairs, pens, writing blotters, and microscopes. The desks were just the kind one would find in an inventor’s laboratory.

“Are these for us?” Wallace asked.

Lucy sat in one of the seats. Her feet didn’t even reach the ground, and she could hardly see the top of the desk. “The size is all wrong for me,” she said, jumping down.

“You’re like Goldenlocks, sitting in Papa Bear’s chair,” said Jasper, laughing.

“Look at me,” said Noah, laughing. “They got my size wrong!” He sat at a very small desk, his knees right up to his chin. Lucy pulled him from the seat and took his place. He sat down in the chair that Lucy had been sitting in.

“This one is just right,” said Lucy. “I’m Goldenlocks!”

“And I’m the Mama Bear!” said Noah.

They all found a perfect desk for each of them. Thoughtfully, Faye looked at the others and said, quietly, “We’d never have known that story if it hadn’t been for Miss Brett.”

“I hope she’s all right,” said Noah.

“Where do you think that leads?” Wallace asked, pointing to
the large wooden door on the far side of the room.

“Might as well go and see,” said Noah. “No one’s here to stop us.”

Opening the door and stepping through, they found themselves in a beautiful dining room, like one might find in the fanciest chateau or hotel. There were two chandeliers and a long, elaborately laid table down the center. Although there was only warm bread in baskets and fresh fruit set out in bowls, they could smell the aroma of roasted meats and grilled vegetables. There was just the faintest hint of a blueberry tart, and perhaps a bit of treacle, cinnamon, and vanilla.

“I’m getting hungry just looking at it,” said Jasper.

“Someone has to be cooking all of this,” Wallace said.

“Probably a man with a black chef’s hat. And a black apron,” said Noah.

“Whatever he’s wearing,” said Jasper, “he sure can cook.”

But there was still one car left to explore. When the children stepped into it, they were struck by two rather remarkable things. The first thing was the size of the room. The entire car was one grand space. There were two fireplaces with roaring fires, and several couches and chairs that looked comfortable enough to be beds. There were bowls full of oranges and apples and grapes laid about the room. The walls that were not covered in soft blue silk were lined with books like the grandest of libraries. The ceiling seemed impossibly tall and arched at the center. But for the windows, one might never even know that one was on a train.

The second thing was even more remarkable. In fact, it was more amazing than anything else they had ever discovered. It was so amazing, none of them felt the train begin to move. There, right in front of the roaring fire, the children, the inventors, those brilliant scientists, discovered what they had been wanting most of all.

Their parents.