The Sword Maker's Seal Page 5

“Agreed,” Mason replied.

  The rain had let up and the sun was trying to mount an escape from the charcoal clouds. The MAX was now full of businessmen and women riding back to the suburbs; no sign of the much more intimidating early afternoon crowd. While the ride was less frightening, there was no place to sit and the twins were crushed into the side of the railcar holding onto a dangling rubber handle for dear life. However, the information they had gleaned was well worth the arduous journey.

  8

  Mrs. Thorne was finishing a load of laundry when she remembered Ezra’s recent actions, prompting her to drop her basket of clothes on her bare foot. She swore loudly. Her son had been late multiple times for dinner, never told her where he was going, and when he did tell her, she could never be sure he was telling the truth. What was she going to do with him? She remembered that Ezra said at dinner last week that he checked out a book about Japan. Was that a lie too? He would have to have checked out the book around September 10th. She would just have to find the book and verify. Trust, but verify. That’s what she always said.

  She wouldn’t normally snoop through Ezra’s things, but this time she had probable cause. Ezra wouldn’t be home from working on his project for at least a few hours, and she had to know if he was lying. For all she knew, he could be lying about his school project as well.

  Mrs. Thorne entered Ezra’s room with the basket of clean laundry. She set her load down on his bed and looked around the room, careful not to disturb anything from its original position. Ezra was a fairly clean boy for his age. Most of his things were in their place except for the towers of books in the corners of the room, which were precariously stacked like a half-played game of Jenga.

  Ezra normally kept the books he was currently reading on his desk. Mrs. Thorne checked these smaller stacks and finally found the one she was looking for. Feudal Japan and the Way of the Samurai sat staring her in the face, daring her to open it and prove her son’s guilt. She hesitated, unsure if she could bring herself to betray his trust.

  With one quick motion she grabbed the book and opened to the checkout card revealing the true date Ezra checked the book out.

  August twenty-eighth.

  She replaced the book and sat down on Ezra’s bed, feeling lightheaded.

  If he was lying about that, what else could he be up to? Maybe he’s hanging out with a bad crowd. He could be doing drugs! No, she thought, she had taught him better than that. What was she going to do about this discovery?

  She thought for a few minutes and came up with the best answer she could under the circumstances.

  She would un-ground him, get him a cell phone, and act as though she had overreacted. Then she would make numerous comments on how good of a son he was and how much she trusted him. If that didn’t make him admit and apologize for lying, what would?

  Her mother had always taught her to “kill ‘em with kindness.” That was exactly what she was going to do. If he didn’t respond to her kindness she would simply take away what she had given him. It’s harder to have had and lost than to have never had at all. Was that the way it went? She could never remember those old sayings.

  She went downstairs and waited for Ezra to come home so she could share the news with him. She never truly liked to discipline Ezra, but Eliot was even more lenient than she was, and a parent had to set boundaries. Even if it meant being seen as strict or callous. She nodded to herself, as though validate her own actions, then hurried down the stairs, grabbed her car keys, and left to buy Ezra what he had been talking about for months.

  9

  Ezra walked the mile and a half home from Truman High to clear his head. All he had were questions and no answers. He needed to go back to the museum with Madison and Mason and get down to business as soon as he could.

  He pressed the front door’s heavy iron handle and stepped through into the air-conditioned safe haven.

  “Mom, Dad, I’m home!” he bellowed throughout the house.

  “In here, honey,” Mrs. Thorne called back.

  Mrs. Thorne sat in an armchair sipping at her coffee.

  “Hey Mom, what’s up?” Ezra asked.

  “I feel really bad about not trusting you before and you were only a few minutes late to dinner both times. I think I may have been hard on you, so I’m un-grounding you.”

  “Really? Well, thanks.”

  What? Ezra thought. Something was off.

  “I just know you wouldn’t lie to me or intentionally come home late. Oh, I almost forgot. I bought you this cell phone. Now if you’re going to be late you can just call ahead and tell me you’re on your way.”

  Ezra’s stomach turned and leapt at the same time. His hand started to shake nervously like an involuntary tick. He finally had what he had wanted for so long! Then why did it feel so wrong?

  “Thanks, Mom,” he said taking the phone.

  “Go wash up, I’m going to start dinner. Will you wake up your father? I think he’s napping up in our bedroom.”

  Ezra nodded and scaled the stairs in a few quick strides. When he reached the top of the staircase he opened his parents’ bedroom door as quietly as he could. Mr. Thorne lay on top of his covers facing downward and letting out a muffled snore into his pillow. Ezra carefully shook his father’s leg until he stirred.

  “Mom says to get up, it’s almost dinnertime.”

  “Ugh,” Mr. Thorne groaned. “Fine, I’m coming.”

  Ezra walked back towards the door and but stopped short.

  Mr. Thorne rolled over and said to Ezra, “Was there something else?”

  “Mom’s acting weird.”

  “How do you mean?” Mr. Thorne asked, sitting himself upright.

  “She’s being…too nice. It’s like the twilight zone down there. She un-grounded me and gave me this cell phone,” he said raising the phone into view.

  “Uh-oh, what did you do this time?” Mr. Thorne asked sarcastically.

  “Huh? Nothing! I don’t think…”

  “Look, when your mother and I were dating and I did something wrong, she would shower me with gifts and make me feel bad so I would confess and apologize.”

  “That’s twisted!”

  “That’s just something you’ll need to learn when you start dating.”

  Ezra cringed. Not because he wouldn’t enjoy a date, just that he didn’t want his father talking about him dating.

  “What do I do? I don’t even know what I did wrong?”

  “I’m not sure I should be telling you this, but, I wouldn’t apologize just yet. If you apologize for the wrong thing you’ll be in more trouble. What I do is buy her flowers and take her out for a nice dinner and she’ll either forget what she was mad about or let it go. But for you…I have no idea.”

  “Well I’m not buying her flowers!”

  “Just do what you know in your heart is the right thing to do and you’ll be fine.”

  “The right thing?” Ezra said quietly to himself.

  “You know Ezra, this reminds me of a poem by Edgar Allen Poe.”

  As soon as Ezra heard the word poem he ran out of the room. It was nearly impossible for his father to relate to anything without referencing a deceased writer. He was just happy he had lasted that long in a pseudo-regular conversation with him, no matter how awkward it was.

  During dinner there were no fights. No raised voices. The three of them ate in near silence, occasionally sharing glances across the table. His mother found out something, but what? Did she know about the case? That’s it! If he solved the case his mother would be too proud to be mad. He wouldn’t have to apologize for anything!

  The next time his mother looked up at Ezra, he smiled back.

  ♦

  After dinner, Ezra went to his room and called Mason on his new cell phone. Mason told Ezra about the twins’ trip to the museum and their talks with Tanya and the security guard, Jackson Roy. When Mason finished, Ezra agreed to return to the museum the next day with the twins. Ezra was about to hang up when Mason y
elled out for him to hold on.

  From what Ezra could ascertain, Madison had stolen the phone from Mason.

  “Hey Ezra, the exhibit is going to close this Friday. We only have a few days left!”

  “Okay, that’s no problem,” Ezra said calmly.

  “How can you be so calm?”

  “After what you told me, I have a hunch. I just need to be able to prove it. See you tomorrow.”

  Ezra hung up on the speechless Madison and opened Feudal Japan and the Way of the Samurai, immersing himself in a new chapter.

  “Who would have thought the answer would be right here the whole time?” Ezra said to himself.

  The next morning Ezra rose before his alarm once again, much to Wilhelm’s dismay. The German Shepherd rolled over lethargically and whined. Ezra readied himself for school but paused as he was putting his schoolbooks in his bag. This could be the night the case is closed. Ezra was always prepared, though he was never a boy scout. He liked to imagine zombies would attack and he had to save his friends and family with only the items on hand, like a zombie hunting MacGyver. Shaking off his wild thoughts, he grabbed Feudal Japan, a flashlight and a book of matches and shoved them in the bottom of his bag.

  When Ezra walked to the bus stop that morning he was more excited than he had ever been before a school day. Madison and Mason walked up to the bus stop shortly after Ezra. Coming from the opposite direction was Addie. She blushed when she saw Ezra and kept to herself instead of joining the conversation. Addie was dressed in a bright blue and black striped skirt and an orange t-shirt from her favorite band. She wore pink fingerless gloves; Ezra was always fascinated to see her seemingly random clothing combinations. They were never what was ‘normal’ or ‘popular,’ but Ezra always liked them.

  Madison gave Ezra a small shove, snapping him out of his increasingly obvious stare, and asked, “What is this hunch anyway? Apparently we aren’t in this together or something?”

  “It’s not that. It’s just, I don’t like to be wrong and I need one more piece of evidence before I make my conclusion.”

  “So you’re just being thorough?”

  “I guess so,” Ezra said defensively.

  Madison still didn’t look pleased. Carson’s sudden appearance didn’t help matters.

  Carson didn’t seem to want trouble that morning, which was unusual. He kept to himself by the neighborhood’s bank of mailboxes, white in the face, ghostly.

  Mason turned his back from the sulking boy and whispered to Ezra, “We know it was one of those three: the curator, Tanya, or Kenji, so why don’t we just go to the police with what we have?”

  “They won’t believe us unless we have concrete evidence and an adult does the talking,” Ezra said then sighed.

  “Tanya had access to the security station, the hairspray to see the lasers, the keys to the display, what more do we need?” Mason asked.

  “We’re missing a piece of the puzzle. Don’t ask me what, but something feels off,” Ezra said.

  “So what do we do?” Madison asked.

  “We have to wait until after school anyway, so we can plan all day.”

  Addie looked over at Ezra and the twins inquisitively, brushing her wavy blonde hair from her eyes.

  “What are you three up to over there?” Addie asked.

  “Um, nothing,” Ezra said.

  “Yeah, it’s really nothing,” Mason agreed.

  Addie didn’t seem satisfied and began examining her multicolored fingernails. She looked up and said, “Bus is here.”

  Ezra and the twins entered their first class still rubbing sleep from their eyes. Madame Durand was an ancient teacher who taught French. She had silvery hair, which always had a new style depending on her mood. All of the students knew that, while she looked old, on the inside she was no older than twelve.

  Madame Durand called the class to order.

  “I have a very special announcement today. Several schools in the Portland area are taking a class trip to France later this year. We will visit Paris, Versailles, Avignon, and Nice. The trip can be a little expensive but I promise it is well worth it.”

  Madame Durand began handing out fliers to the class.

  “There is limited space, so those who wish to go along should show this flier to their parents. In a week there will be an informational meeting where your parents can sign you up to go.”

  Mason squirmed in his seat anxiously.

  “Look at this,” he said pointing to the flier. “This would be so cool!”

  Ezra received his flier and skimmed it, looking mainly at the pictures of happy teens in front of various famous monuments. The Eiffel Tower, Versailles, and the TGV were the three prominent photos. Ezra remembered from a French lesson in Junior High that the TGV stood for ‘Train à Grand Vitesse,’ or, ‘high-speed train.’ He couldn’t remember how fast it went, but he knew it was faster than any train in the U.S.

  The noise level in the class increased wildly as the other students spoke back and forth about the trip.

  “Ten days?” the boy behind Ezra said surprised.

  “I have to go!” a girl said back.

  Ezra turned to his left and saw Addie pointing enthusiastically to her flier. He turned back to Mason and Madison who were sitting on his right.

  “What are the chances we can get our parents to let us go?” he asked.

  “Maybe if we get perfect grades and suck up to mom and dad,” Madison mused.

  “I don’t have a problem with that,” Mason replied jovially. “It’d be worth it.”

  “You were always great at sucking up to mom and dad.”

  “Hey, you don’t have to because you’re daddy’s little princess. I have no shame in sucking up to get what I want.”

  “Well, there’s no telling what I’ll have to do to go,” Ezra said sighing. “Maybe I’ll be my dad’s personal assistant until I graduate.”

  Madame Durand spoke in more detail about the trip and then continued with her normal lesson plan. However, not surprisingly, most of the class still spoke in whispers about the trip.

  With each class that came and went, Ezra and the twins tried to come up with a plan for after school. They didn’t want to call the police and be charged with raising a false alarm by not having the evidence they needed to bust the thief. They had to find out the truth behind the heist. And fast.

  Finally, it was time for their last class. Ezra sat tapping his foot in time to the teacher writing on the board. Madison was taking down notes on her notepad and when the teacher stopped writing on the board she wrote in the margins to Ezra, who quickly wrote a reply while Mr. Casey wasn’t looking.

  Mr. Casey’s history class was the most lax in the school. Half the class sat texting under their desks or playing games on their phones. Blain “The Brain” was on the other side of the room, no doubt drawing tanks or some kind of war machine. Mr. Casey turned around from the board and Blain nearly jumped out of his seat in surprise.

  Carson snickered from behind Blain and whispered something to him. The comment was surely snide but Ezra couldn’t make out what he said.

  Ezra shrugged it off and began playing with the purple matchbook he found on the MAX weeks ago. “Hotel DeLuxe.” He knew that hotel. It was the only hotel within a few blocks of the Ancient Artifacts Museum. What was it doing on the MAX?

  Madison prodded him with her pencil, snapping him out of his thought process. She pointed down at their note page. Who will you talk to first? Was written in quick clumsy letters.

  Ezra wrote back, Tanya.

  I’m sure she did it! Madison wrote.

  We’ll see.

  The bell rang and Mr. Casey, taken by surprise as usual, rushed to tell them about their homework assignment. As usual, half of the class was out the door before he could finish. Ezra packed up his bag and turned to Madison and Mason.

  “You two ready?”

  “Let’s do it,” the twins said in unison.

  10

  The MAX ride
seemed longer than usual. Ezra felt his stomach turn with anticipation. This could be it, he thought. This could be the end of the case.

  The railcar went through the tunnel near the Portland Zoo. Pretty soon they would be near downtown and the Ancient Artifacts Museum. As they passed Goose Hollow Station, Madison opened her bag and pulled out a small object that looked like a tube of lipstick.

  “What’s that?” Ezra asked.

  “It’s pepper spray. Mom and Dad made me start carrying it. I thought it might come in handy if we catch the thief.”

  Mason grabbed at the bottle but Madison withdrew her hand.

  Mason frowned and said, “Mom and Dad never give me anything cool like that.”

  “You don’t need it because I’m always around to protect you.”

  “Well I’m always with you! I mean…I could protect you!”

  “Apparently Mom and Dad don’t think so.”

  Mason scoffed and stared silently out the window with his arms folded across his chest.

  Ezra smiled and retreated into his mind as he often did before a difficult exam, or before the whistle blew to signal the start of a race. The sun was hidden from view behind the tall downtown buildings. In between the buildings the telltale clouds crawled closer to the city; the signs that a storm was coming. After living in Portland for all of his fourteen years, if he knew anything, it was that the weather in Portland could change at a moment’s notice, and often did.

  Madison turned her eyes to Ezra, who was swaying with the movement of the train.

  “You alright Ezra?”

  “I’m fine. I feel like we’re getting close to the answer.”

  They disembarked from the MAX and Madison and Mason began walking toward the museum. Ezra stood staring down the street in the other direction until the twins noticed he wasn’t behind them.

  “What is it?” Madison asked Ezra.

  “Before we go to the museum I need to check something.”

  “Check what?”

  “There’s a key shop a few blocks that way,” Ezra said pointing.