The Sixty-Eight Rooms Read Free

and a delicately made harp. How had they made the strings so fine? Doors with tiny hinges opened up to the most beautiful garden, complete with a fountain and birds in the trees. After that was a library filled with leather-covered books—her father would love that one.
    By now Jack had made his way out of the exhibition and was looking to see if there was anything else he might be interested in. As Ruthie had often noticed, he never let grass grow under his feet. She stepped around the corner, near the last few rooms, where she could see Jack’s mom at the entrance to the Thorne Rooms. She had struck up a conversation with a guard, and Ruthie could hear them talking and laughing.
    “Jack, this is Mr. Bell,” she said, introducing him to the museum guard. Mr. Bell was fairly tall and very lean, with close-cut black hair flecked with lots of gray at his temples.It was difficult to tell his age; he appeared older than Lydia but not
old
old, as Ruthie and Jack often described people. They both found it hard to guess grown-ups’ ages precisely. Mr. Bell had a kind face, and the lines around his eyes showed that he smiled a lot, but there was also a kind of unhappy look in them.
    “Hi,” Jack replied, holding out his hand to shake. Sometimes he had really good manners. “Do you know how they made the lighting work in those rooms? Are they all connected in the back? Are you the guy who takes care of them?” Jack rattled off questions.
    “Well, I’m not the curator in charge but I am the senior staff member down here and oversee the maintenance of the rooms. They’re one of our most popular exhibits,” Mr. Bell said. “In answer to your question, they are all connected—there’s a small corridor behind them for access. You passed by doors in there and probably didn’t notice.”
    “Could you show me?” Jack was never shy about asking for something.
    “Sure, I can show you,” Mr. Bell answered. “Follow me.” He led Jack and his mom back into the exhibition; to the left there was a small alcove with a door, much closer to where Ruthie stood looking at a Japanese room.
    “So that’s how you get back there?” Jack asked.
    “That’s right. But we don’t have reason to go back there very often. The rooms don’t require very much maintenance, just an occasional dusting or a new lightbulb.”
    “Can I look?” Jack asked eagerly.
    “Jack, I’m sure Mr. Bell can’t open that door for museum visitors!” Lydia exclaimed.
    “I don’t believe I’ve been asked before.” Mr. Bell seemed to be having fun as he looked around to make sure there wasn’t a large crowd of kids nearby. The other guard was around the corner, out of eyeshot. Mr. Bell pulled his key ring out of his pocket. It held a mixture of keys: home, car and about three or four clearly labeled
AIC
, with a different number on each. The door itself had no knob and could be opened only with a key. “C’mere,” Mr. Bell said somewhat slyly as he put the key in the lock and opened the door a crack. He had a twinkle in his eye. “Take a peek.”
    As Jack peered in, Mr. Bell turned his attention back to Lydia and explained that the doors were always kept locked even though the museum wasn’t really worried about theft. “Nobody has ever tried to steal anything from these rooms. Unlike the artwork upstairs, these rooms are only valuable all together. No one would steal just a single item. Besides, someone would have a hard time getting their hands through the small openings in the back. We have another set of keys to open the glass windows from the front when repairs have to be made.”
    While Mr. Bell continued to talk to Jack’s mom, Ruthie watched as Jack took the opportunity to slip just inside the door to the corridor. If Jack was expecting to see something spectacular he was disappointed. There were only some cleaning supplies, a chair, some stacked boxes andbeyond those a narrow corridor dimly lit by the light coming from the back of the