The Sixty-Eight Rooms (4 page)

“Go ahead. See what you can find out,” Ruthie answered. “I’m gonna look at the rooms.” She browsed the gallery, looking first at some of the American rooms, stopping at one in particular: a rustic kitchen with a small wooden child’s chair sitting next to a fireplace large enough to walk into—that is, if you were five inches tall.

She looked at a few more rooms. It felt to Ruthie that
she was seeing some of them for the very first time—there was just so much to look at. What she’d thought were her favorites yesterday were surpassed today by things she hadn’t noticed then: little inkwells with quill pens made from the tiniest of feathers, vases smaller than the fingernail on her pinkie and filled with delicate roses that looked fresher than real ones, cigar boxes covered with jewels. She could spend years here.

“Guess what?” Jack said, sounding upset as he came up behind her.

“I give up. What?” Ruthie asked, not too terribly concerned.

“Mr. Bell doesn’t work on the weekends! Now we’ll never get a chance to get into that corridor—unless we come on a school holiday or something.”

“But it isn’t all that exciting back there anyway,” Ruthie said.

Jack looked at her with disbelief.

“Of course it is,” he answered, and left her side.

At this point Jack’s natural curiosity was in full swing. He was not going to give up a perfectly good Saturday morning simply waiting while Ruthie enjoyed herself. He headed to the alcove; maybe he could talk some other guard into opening the door for him. There was no guard, however, at or near the door.

Looking at it, Jack noticed something—the door was not closed tightly!

“Hey, Ruthie,” he said as he ran over to her. “Do you remember Mr. Bell closing the door yesterday?”

“I wasn’t paying any attention. Why?”

“Because it’s not closed! I think I pulled it only partway shut; I don’t remember hearing the sound of the latch.”

“He was pretty distracted talking to your mom,” Ruthie remembered.

“Doors like that lock automatically when the latch catches, so that means it’s not locked. We can get in there! I know we can. Nobody’s watching!”

“Jack, are you out of your mind?” she demanded.

“Just act normal,” he ordered, ignoring her question and pulling her along.

“Well, then you’re gonna have to let go of my sleeve,” she pointed out.

“Okay. C’mon, though,” he said, letting go. They were near the alcove. A young family had entered the gallery. They couldn’t open the door now.

“Jack, let’s just look at the rooms, okay?” Ruthie suggested in exasperation.

“But Ruthie …,” he started. Then he stopped, looked at her and pulled the key out of his pocket.

Even with no sunlight shining on it, the key sparkled as though it were reflecting the intense sunshine of the brightest summer day. She felt as though she couldn’t look away from it. The carved
C
and
M
caught the light and bounced it into her face. Then Jack swiftly wrapped his
fingers around the key again, hiding it from view. That little glimpse was all it took; Ruthie, defying her own reluctance, agreed to try to get back in the corridor with him.

They would have to act fast. The first thing Jack did was to take his library card out of his wallet. “What’s that for?” she asked him, perplexed.

“You’ll see,” he answered cryptically.

The lone guard was standing at the entrance to the gallery talking to the lady at the information booth. The guard’s back was toward them. Ruthie and Jack tried to look casual as a few people passed by. Fortunately, in the Thorne Rooms people peered directly and intently into the rooms, so as soon as Ruthie and Jack had the opportunity they made their move. Ruthie stood looking out while Jack placed the fingers of his right hand on the edge of the door. With his left he grabbed the rim of the lock piece, which stuck out about half an inch. Jack pulled firmly. The door budged slightly. He glanced around the room: still no one watching. He continued to pull the door until he had it open, and quickly slipped in. But Ruthie froze.

“Ruthie!” he said in a loud whisper from inside the corridor. Then someone came near her. Ruthie’s heart started thumping as he closed the door. He was inside, but she was left out. The guard turned around and reentered the gallery.

There was no knob on the inside of the door, but Jack had found a coat hook there, with which he had pulled the
door shut. He placed his library card between the latch and the frame to keep the door from locking. However, he couldn’t do a thing to help Ruthie. She had to get herself in there now. The museum was filling up with every passing minute. It would only get more difficult the longer she waited. With her heart pounding in her ears, she took the next chance. The guard had turned away to give directions to a visitor and there was no one close to her. She knocked once; Jack pushed the door open for her. She was in!

“Do you think anyone saw you?” Jack said after he had placed his library card back in the jamb.

“No. No one was looking, I’m sure of it,” she answered, breathless. Gesturing at the card, she asked, “Where did you learn to do that?”

“Movies.” He grinned.

The two of them tiptoed far into the corridor.

“Eww, ugh!” Ruthie stifled a scream; in the dim light she had put her arm against the wall and felt the unmistakable sticky threads of a spiderweb. She imagined there must be many more that she couldn’t see. She hated spiders! Trying to keep her voice soft, she said, “I don’t think this was such a good idea after all, Jack. We could get in so much trouble.”

He whispered, “Remember what Mr. Bell said? This stuff isn’t really valuable, so no one’s watching. Besides, we’re just kids—what’ll they do to us?”

“I don’t want to find out!”

“We’re only gonna be in here a few minutes—to get a
good look and see if the key fits anything.” Saying that, he pulled it out of his pocket. As before, it sparkled impossibly in the low light.

They walked a little farther into the corridor, past the backs of about ten or eleven rooms. Now Ruthie and Jack could see what they hadn’t been able to see when Mr. Bell had let them take their first quick look.

The rooms were installed in a wooden framework and set inside bigger boxes that formed the backdrops Ruthie had seen through the little doors and windows on the other side. They were like mini dioramas. Some of these boxes weren’t closed completely on the corridor side, and through the openings she was able to see the edges of the painted landscapes and city scenes. Someone could reach in if anything needed fixing. Other rooms had access from side openings in the framework, just big enough for a hand to fit in. The glow coming from the rooms seeped though these openings and other small cracks in the framework. But she couldn’t see inside any of the rooms from the back, just as from the front no one could see the corridor. A ledge at the base of the rooms ran along the entire installation, and all the rooms were numbered like on the front.

Neither Ruthie nor Jack saw anything obvious that the key might open. They kept going, following the corridor as it made a few turns.

“We’re behind the back wall now. This corridor must go
all the way around,” Jack said. He ran ahead and looked around the next corner. “It does. It’s a dead end back here.”

“I’m really scared, Jack. How come you’re not even nervous?” Ruthie asked.

“I guess I don’t feel like I’m doing something bad. It’s not stealing; we’re not hurting anyone or breaking anything.”

“It might be trespassing,” Ruthie suggested sarcastically. “I guess it might be.” Jack didn’t seem bothered at all. “Do you see anywhere the key might fit?”

“Let me see it again.”

Jack handed her the key. It was the first time she had actually touched it. She was surprised by how heavy it felt. Then something very strange happened: her hand began to feel warm under the key and the warmth spread to her fingertips.

“Ruthie?” Jack looked at her oddly.

Then something even stranger happened: as she stood there in the corridor with no windows, her hair started to be blown around as if by a gentle breeze. Ruthie couldn’t take her eyes off the key. She had the sensation that her shoes were beginning to get too big for her feet, and her collar started pushing up into her ears.

“Ruthie!” Jack sounded scared. She broke her gaze from the key and glanced at Jack. Normally, being the same height, they saw eye to eye; but now, looking straight ahead, her eyes were at the level of his neck!

“Ruthie! Drop it … drop it now!” he said, a touch of panic in his voice.

She dropped the key to the ground. It made the oddest sort of clinking sound and then all the strange sensations stopped; her toes touched the ends of her shoes again, her collar sat at her neck, her hair rested calmly on her shoulders and she could look Jack straight in the eyes.

“What happened?” she asked, a bit dazed. Her muscles felt funny, like the day after you’ve done too many sit-ups in gym class.

“I don’t know.” He reached down to pick up the key. He hesitated for a second—but only for a second—and then completed the motion.

“Don’t, Jack….”

But he picked it up anyway—and absolutely nothing happened.

“That’s weird. Here, you hold it again.”

“What, are you crazy? No way.” She tried to think the whole thing through to understand what was going on.

“Look, Ruthie, I’m holding it and nothing is happening. Either we both
imagined
that something just happened to you when you held the key or it happened for sure. If you don’t touch the key we’ll never know.” He waited a moment before adding, “Don’t you want to know?”

She stared at the key in his open palm. And then something came over her, something she thought and wondered about for many years afterward. In that moment
she decided to take Jack’s challenge. Perhaps it was the odd brilliance of the old metal key that caused Ruthie to behave completely out of character; she made a decision to
not
think. “Okay, okay!” she said, grabbing the key from him. As soon as she touched it she felt all the things she had felt before. She dropped the key again. The two of them looked at each other. Jack’s mouth hung open and his eyes widened. This was the first time Ruthie had ever seen him speechless.

Ruthie spoke first. “I’m gonna pick it up again, Jack.”

“You don’t have to, Ruthie.” Now Jack sounded more scared than Ruthie.

“I know, but you were right before: something happened to me but not to you. Not knowing what this is all about will drive me crazy! Just promise you won’t let anything bad happen to me, okay?” She bent down. “Here goes!”

This time she closed her fingers around the key and held on to it tightly. First she felt the strange breeze again. Then she could see Jack getting taller and the room around her growing. She couldn’t exactly feel herself shrinking, but she noticed that her clothes kept readjusting themselves to her body; for an instant they would feel too large, then they would catch up to her smaller size. This happened about a dozen times over the course of a few seconds. Not knowing how small she would become—or if she would disappear altogether—she was about to drop the key when the process came to a halt. She stood about five inches tall. Oddly enough, she felt fine.

Jack was down on all fours immediately, with his huge face looming over her. It was an unbelievable sight. His hairs and eyelashes were the size of ropes and she could see all the color variations in his giant eyes, which normally just looked greenish. “Oh my God, Ruthie! Are you okay?”

“I think I’m all right, Jack. Really.” She kept calm. “Maybe you should stand back while I drop the key again.”

“All right. Hurry!”

She dropped the key—which had also shrunk—and again the process reversed itself, her clothes switching between too tight and just right a dozen times or so. They even heard that odd sort of tinkling or crinkling sound again as the key expanded on the floor in front of them.

“Whew!” she said, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

“Don’t ever touch that thing again!” Jack was almost shaking.

“You know what, Jack? I think it’s really okay. I mean, look at me … I feel fine. What I don’t understand is why this is happening to me and not you.”

“Well, I don’t understand any of it and I don’t like it!”

They were quiet for a minute. They both thought they knew what the other was thinking and they were both right. Ruthie was thinking that she was going to shrink down again and get into the Thorne Rooms and that Jack would try to stop her. Jack knew that was what she was
thinking and he was, in fact, trying to figure out how to talk her out of it.

Ruthie couldn’t be sure where this new bravery came from. Her heart had never pounded so hard and she felt almost as shaky as Jack looked, but she had the strongest instinct not to let fear stop her. Maybe it was simply overwhelming curiosity. Whatever it was, she knew that something exciting was happening to her—finally!

Ruthie took a deep breath. “Listen, Jack, I’ve got to try it one last time … and then I want you to lift me into one of the rooms.”

“It’s not a good idea. It could be dangerous.”