Alexander Graham Bell: Master of Sound #7 (6 page)

The crowd quieted.

A lone man, distinguished looking with his thick black beard and mane of dark hair, stepped onto the stage. His piercing eyes seemed to land on every person in the audience, drawing them in. When he finally opened his mouth and spoke, his voice echoed through the theater.

Rayne pushed an elaborately printed program into Felix’s hand. The man on the stage’s face peered out at him, and beneath his picture, the words:
PROFESSOR ALEXANDER BELL PRESENTS CHARLES DICKENS’S
DAVID COPPERFIELD
. MARCH 25, 1862. 2000 HOURS.

Hadley pointed to the date, her eyes blazing with excitement.

Felix nodded. 1862, he thought. By now he had learned enough about history to know what was happening back in the United States—the Civil War had begun, and Clara Barton was in Washington, DC, petitioning President Lincoln to let her on the
battlefield. What, he wondered, was happening here in Scotland?

Professor Bell’s voice, loud and authoritative, each word perfectly enunciated, interrupted Felix’s thoughts. The man demanded attention, and for the next three hours, he had Felix’s. And that of everyone else in that theater as well. The audience sat rapt as Professor Bell told them the story of David Copperfield, whose life in London involved enough death and love and evil characters to keep Felix on the edge of his red velvet seat.

“Stop applauding,” Felix whispered to Rayne, who had jumped to her feet so enthusiastically when the curtain came down that the woman in front of them had uttered
Americans
in disgust. “We’ve got to get to Maisie and Hadley before they leave.”

“But Felix,” Rayne said, her eyes fixed on the stage where Professor Bell stood taking his bows, “that was the most amazing performance I’ve ever seen.”

“I know,” Felix said, pulling her toward the end of the row. “But if we lose them, we’re in big trouble.”

Luckily, the audience stayed put, applauding
through four curtain calls and allowing Felix to practically drag Rayne to the front of the theater.

And luckily, too. Even though Hadley was as mesmerized as her sister, Maisie was frantically searching for Felix.

When their eyes met, Maisie broke into a smile, waving her brother over to where she stood.

The boy next to her studied Felix and Rayne with curiosity.

“You have these vinyl coats, too,” he said.

Felix glanced down at his slicker.

“That was the most incredible show,” Rayne gushed.

“Father is said to do Dickens better than Dickens,” said the taller boy.

Maisie looked surprised. “Wait, Aleck. Professor Bell is your father?” she asked.

The boy nodded.

In an instant, all the facts collided for Felix.

But before he could ask the question, Maisie beat him to it.

“Then
you
must also be a Bell? Alexander—”

Aleck was nodding. “Right,” he said. “Alexander Graham Bell.”

The four children looked at each other. Even if they hadn’t just started a unit on inventors, they all knew the name Alexander Graham Bell.

“I know,” Aleck said, misunderstanding their response. “Everyone knows Father for his work with language and sound.”

Maisie laughed. “Absolutely,” she said.

Melly winked at Maisie. “
Graham
,” he said. “He gave himself that name to be fancy.”

Aleck ignored his brother. “Are you familiar with his system of Visible Speech?” he asked eagerly.

Maisie shook her head.

“It’s fascinating, really,” he continued. “I’d explain more tomorrow, but I’m off to London to live with my grandfather for a year. He’s quite well known himself, as a speech teacher.” He lowered his voice. “I admit though, I’m a bit terrified, I am.”

“You’re leaving?” Felix said.

“Afraid so,” Aleck said.

His family was moving toward the exit now, and a distance between the Bells and the children was developing.

Maisie stood on tiptoe. “Aleck!” she called.

But he was swept away in the crowd.

“Oh no,” Felix groaned. “This is terrible.”

“Why?” Hadley asked him. “We just met the person who invents the telephone. That’s pretty amazing to me.”

Maisie pulled the magnet out of her pocket. “We need to give this to Aleck,” she explained.

“We do?” Rayne asked.

“That means we have to get to London,” Felix added.

“I love London!” Rayne said happily.

“Don’t you get it?” Maisie told her. “It’s 1862, and we have to figure out how to get from Edinburgh, Scotland, to London.”

“But first,” Felix said miserably, “we need to find a place to sleep tonight.”

“Maybe the Bells will let us stay with them?” Hadley said optimistically.

“I suppose we have to try that,” Maisie said.

“Don’t worry, Maisie,” Rayne said kindly. “We’ll figure it out. Meanwhile, remember what David Copperfield said? ‘You’ll find us rough, sir, but you’ll find us ready.’ That’s us!”

Maisie groaned. “Great,” she said. “Just great.”

“Come on,” Felix said, glancing around the empty
theater. “We have to get out of here and find the Bells.”

“Even if they let us stay with them,” Maisie said as they moved toward the exit, “we still need to find a way to get on that train to London tomorrow. If we lose Aleck, how will we ever find him in a city like London?”

“Oh!” Rayne said happily. “What an adventure!”

Maisie rolled her eyes. “You have no idea,” she muttered.

They stepped out into the rainy night, the yellow glow of the gaslights hazy in the mist. The street was completely empty. No carriages. No people. It was as if the crowd and the Bells had simply vanished.

B
y the time Maisie, Felix, and the Ziff twins made their way back to Charlotte Street, the light rain had turned into a steady one. They were all cold and shivering and damp, despite their rain gear. Maisie stopped in front of 13 Charlotte Street, the house she had seen Aleck’s mother come out of earlier that night. Although the house was dark, Maisie climbed the stairs to the front door and gave it a tug.

Locked.

She looked down at the three worried faces on the pavement below her. Across the street, the green park where Aleck had made his dog talk appeared ominous in the darkness.

“Maybe the church is open,” Hadley said,
pointing to the imposing building that took up one side of the square.

Maisie had noticed the church earlier, mostly because it didn’t look like any church she had ever seen before. Large and stone, it peaked not with a steeple, but with a copper dome topped with a cross.

“That’s a good idea,” Felix said, bending and opening his cold toes inside his rain boots. “Churches probably stay open all night.”

The four dispirited children walked to the end of Charlotte Street and turned onto George Street toward the church. It, too, was unlit, but Maisie refused to think they would not find refuge there for the night.
Felix is right
, she thought.
Churches need to stay open all night for desperate people like us.

But the large front doors were locked tight.

“Oh no,” Rayne said, close to tears.

“Don’t worry,” Felix told her. “We’ll try the side doors, too. I just know one will be open.”

They sloshed through puddles to the smaller doors on one side of the church, each lost in their own thoughts.

Felix grabbed hold of the iron handle and yanked.

The door groaned open.

Rayne let out a little yelp of happiness. The children filed in and stared upward at the vaulted ceiling. The simply decorated church stretched out in front of them. Inside felt even colder than outside.

“At least it’s not raining,” Felix offered, trying to stay optimistic.

One by one, they took off their dripping slickers and boots and then huddled together in a small alcove. The stone floor felt hard and cold beneath them, and they moved closer together to stay warm.

“Time traveling isn’t very much fun,” Rayne said sleepily.

“It’ll be better tomorrow,” Maisie said. “Nights can be hard. But you’ll see. We’ll find Aleck and go to London and have a wonderful adventure.”

“How can you be sure?” Hadley asked.

Felix sighed. “That’s just how it works,” he said.

And then, despite everything, he fell right to sleep.

Felix woke to the sound of footsteps echoing across the stone floor and keys rattling noisily. He opened his eyes just as an old man stopped at the pile of children.

“What have we here?” the man said, his accent even harder to understand than everyone else Felix had heard so far.

Hadley rubbed at her eyes and looked around, confused.

“Wha—?” she began, jumping to her feet. Then, as if she remembered, she nodded to herself and slowly sunk back down.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Maisie piped up. “Our door was locked, and it was raining and—”

The man furrowed his stiff silver eyebrows.

“I can’t understand a word you’re saying,” he said. “You must be some of the deaf children Professor Bell teaches?”

Felix and Maisie looked at each other, both of them smiling slightly.

Maisie nodded. “We are,” she said.

“Well, let’s go then,” the man said, already turning to leave. “I’ll show you which house is his. It’s number thirteen. Thirteen Charlotte Street, right around the corner.”

Rayne slept through this entire interaction. Hadley had to nudge her awake and help her get back into her rain boots and slicker so that they could keep up with
the old man and Maisie and Felix, who were hurrying through the church to the big front doors.

They stepped outside into the same steady rain that had made them so miserable the night before.

“Does it
always
rain here?” Maisie said grumpily.

The man chuckled. “It is Scotland, after all, isn’t it?”

The trees in Charlotte Square seemed silver in the early morning light as the children walked down George Street. In the distance, green hills rose and a river cut through them.

The man saw Maisie admiring the view.

“Them’s the Fife Hills, and that’s the Firth of Forth,” he said. He pointed in the other direction. “And them’s the Pentland Hills.”

He took a moment to also admire the view.

“Scotland,” he said, with a smile and a nod.

At the Bell’s house, the man banged the knocker twice and waited.

Soon enough, Melly Bell, Aleck’s brother, opened the door.

“I’ve got the professor’s students here,” the man told him.

Melly frowned in confusion.

“Thank you, Mr. MacGregor,” he said, opening the door wider to let the four children in.

The foyer into which they entered was square and dimly lit by a gas lamp that cast a warm yellow glow. In front of them, a staircase wound upward, and Melly pointed toward it, indicating they should go upstairs.

At the landing, Maisie, who led the way, paused.

“One more,” Melly told her.

She climbed the winding staircase to the next floor, waiting for the others there. A large chandelier hung above the narrow hall, where two doors sat shut. The smell of gas hung in the air.

Melly reached the landing and went to open the door for them. With his hand on the knob, he turned to Maisie.

“Weren’t you the lot at the performance last night?” he asked her.

Maisie nodded.

“Did you forget to tell Father that you were here for a lesson?”

Maisie hesitated, then nodded again.

Melly seemed to accept this, as he opened the door and let them inside, calling to his father as he did.

Professor Bell and Aleck came into the front sitting room, both of them looking harried.

“They’re here for lessons,” Melly explained.

“Now?” Professor Bell said. “But we have to get Aleck off to the train in a few hours.”

Without waiting for anyone to reply, Professor Bell said, “Very well,” as if he’d made up his mind right then. “Hang up their coats, Melly, and tell your mother to send out some tea. And biscuits?” he added, directing this question to the children.

“Yes, please,” Rayne said through a yawn.

“Aleck, maybe you can help me out here,” Professor Bell said.