Off the Wall (10 page)

“Which reminds
me
that we don't have any money,” said Jane.

“People can't starve to death in a few hours, can they?” said Megan anxiously. “Because suddenly I'm starting to feel faint.”

She tottered over to the fountain in the center of the lobby. It had been turned off for the night. Megan plunked herself down on its edge in a swooning kind of way. Then she dipped the tips of her fingers in the water and patted her face dramatically.

“That's a
little
better,” she said in a weak voice as she dipped her hand again.

“I guess it's too late to tell her how germy the water probably is,” Lucy murmured to Jane.

Abruptly, Megan sat up straight. “Hey, look! There are a lot of coins at the bottom of this fountain! Couldn't we borrow a few for the vending machine? We could pay the money back tomorrow. I, for one,
swear
I will.”

“Yes! Great idea, Megan,” said Lucy. “Everyone try to get quarters.”

Splashing their hands in the cool water revived the girls, and sharing an activity cheered them up. Besides, there were tons of quarters on the pool's tiled floor.

“Eight quarters each ought to be enough,” said Lucy. “This is fun! It's like panning for gold.”

“Or harvesting pearls,” Jane agreed happily.

When they'd collected enough change, the girls headed down to the basement. Five gleaming vending machines were waiting for them at the bottom of the staircase. The machines must have been freshly stocked—they were jammed with candy, drinks, and snacks.

“Thank goodness they have peanuts,” said Megan, “because I definitely need some protein.”

“What's a peanut butter cup?” asked Jane as she stared at the candy display.

“You don't know what a
peanut butter cup
is? That's like not knowing what a shoe is!” said Megan.

“My mom never has any candy,” said Jane. “Are they worth getting?”

Lucy and Megan assured her that they were.

“What are you going to get, Daria?” asked Lucy. But Daria didn't answer. In fact, she wasn't with the three girls anymore.

“I think she's in the” —Megan paused before mouthing the last word—
“bathroom.”

Lucy slid down the wall to sit on the floor. She opened her candy bar and took a bite. “We can eat while we wait for her.”

But when they'd finished their snacks, Daria still hadn't come out of the bathroom.

“I don't want to bother her,” said Lucy. “She might be, you know, busy. But maybe I'd better go in there and make sure she's all right.”

Megan swallowed her last handful of peanuts and nodded. “Good idea. She may have passed out from hunger in there. It happens to people.”

Lucy headed into the bathroom—and almost immediately came out again. “Daria's not in there,” she said in a puzzled voice.

“Are you sure?” asked Jane.

“Yes, of course. There are only three stalls in there, and she's not in any of them.”

“Is there a window?” asked Megan. “Maybe she felt so faint from hunger that she opened the window to get some fresh air.”

“And then did what?” asked Lucy. “Climbed out the window to get even
fresher
air? Anyway, there isn't a window. We're in the basement, remember?”

“I'm trying to remember if Daria even came downstairs with us,” said Jane thoughtfully. “She said she was hungry. But did either of you notice whether she actually came down to the basement?”

Silence.

“I don't think she did,” said Lucy finally. “She walked to the stairs with us. I do know that. But when we got to the vending machines, I was only thinking about what to buy.”

“We all were,” said Megan. “All that time, Daria was in trouble. And we never once thought of helping her.”

“Wait—why do you say she was in trouble?” asked Jane.

Megan looked at her, amazed. “How could she not be in trouble if she's not with us? She would never leave us on purpose. We're her friends!”

“I wouldn't say that,” Jane answered. “I don't think she likes any of us that much. She's been pretty awful since the moment we met her.”

“Totally awful,” Lucy agreed. “I'm sure there's nothing the matter.”

Megan's eyes were wide. “But we still have to find her, right?”

“I guess we do,” said Lucy without enthusiasm. “I'd rather just go back to sleep. But it's probably not a great idea for her to be on her own. Anyway, we're wandering around the museum because of her. If we get caught or something, she should be with us to get in trouble too.”

That seemed like confused reasoning to Jane. After all, the real reason they were wandering around the museum was that Lucy hadn't been able to resist Daria's dare. But Jane didn't point that out. Instead she asked, “What time is it?” as the three girls wearily began to climb the stairs to the first floor.

“I'm not sure. Probably about two thirty,” Lucy replied.

Megan sighed. “This is terrible. I'm supposed to get eight hours of sleep a night.”

“
Everyone's
supposed to get eight hours of sleep a night, not just you,” snapped Lucy.

“But I always get sick when I get overtired!” Megan said.

“You'll survive,” Jane told her. “Now, does anyone have a clue where Daria might've gone?”

“My mom says I always pick the wrong direction,” Lucy answered. “I would probably walk straight ahead now. So if I'm always wrong, straight ahead would be the wrong direction. So let's go the opposite way.”

Megan looked confused. “You mean, walk backward?”

“No, silly. I mean turn around.” Lucy did just that, and so did Jane and Megan. Then Lucy said, “Since the first place I would look
now
is in the Exhibit of Asian Mammals”—she pointed to their left—“we should probably go into the Portrait Gallery.” That was on their right.

“Why does a natural history museum have a portrait gallery, do you think?” asked Megan. “Paintings are supposed to be in art museums, aren't they?”

“These are all portraits that Mrs. Templeton owned,” Lucy explained. “She wanted them exhibited here, and she was the one in charge, so here they are.”

“At least portraits won't be creepy,” said Megan.

But Jane wasn't so sure of that once they were inside the first room of paintings. All those shadowy pictures of long-ago people seemed to crowd in on her. She couldn't escape the weird feeling that the people in the portraits were mad at her for being . . . what? Out in the open?

Lucy seemed to share Jane's mood. “See that man in the gold frame?” she said in a low voice. “I think he's watching me. I know people always say that about portraits, but I
swear
I just saw his eyes move.”

“I was thinking the same thing about that old lady over there—the one holding the bouquet,” said Megan. “When we first came in, I thought she was smiling. But then she frowned for a second. She really did!”

For once, Jane didn't think Megan was imagining things. The room was getting to her, too. It wasn't only the people in the paintings, either. She was sure she'd been in this room before. It was just a feeling, not a memory—but Jane couldn't shake it.

“There's one good thing about this room,” Jane said.
“We can see for sure that Daria's not here. There's no place she could be hiding.” She sighed. “We'll have to look somewhere else. Lucy, you've been here a lot. Do you have any idea what kind of exhibits Daria would like?”

“She's kind of mean,” said Lucy. “If this museum had a torture chamber, I'm sure she'd love it. But it doesn't. Maybe she went to the costume exhibit.”

“Fine,” said Jane.

The moods of the three girls did not improve when they got lost taking a “shortcut” that Lucy suggested. Instead of leading them to the Costume Hall, her route led them to the Hall of Rocks and Minerals.

“We could check out that baseball-size pearl while we're here,” said Lucy hopefully. “Also, they have a magnet thing where you can stick to the ceiling.”

“I don't think so,” said Jane.

“Me either,” said Megan.

As the girls trudged along, Jane gradually became aware of a noise that didn't belong. It was soft, almost gentle—a scraping or brushing, or maybe someone dragging something.

I must really be tired,
she thought.
I'm starting to imagine things.

But why would her imagination dream up such a boring sound?

Whshhhh . . . whshhh . . .

Almost like a shuffling sort of step . . .

“What's that noise?” Megan asked. “That—that brushing sound.”

“I hear it too,” said Lucy. “I thought I was imagining things.”

“That's what I thought too,” said Jane. “But if we all hear it . . .”

Whshhh . . . whshhh . . . whshhh . . .

It seemed to be coming from close by, but Jane couldn't tell exactly where. It was much, much worse to know that she wasn't imagining it.

“Do you think someone is sweeping the floor?” asked Lucy quietly.

“Maybe,” Megan answered equally quietly. “Maybe the cleaning crew works late. Like really late. But whatever it is, we've got to get out of here before they find us.”

“Okay,” said Lucy. “Don't run, Megan. Just walk fast. Running would be too loud.”

The sound was louder now, closer. It was terrible
not knowing where it was coming from—and not being able to run away from it. Jane had to press down on her thighs to keep from dashing away. But where could they escape to?

Now they were coming toward the end of the hall, which branched off in two directions. “Which way?” Megan whispered.

“Left. No, wait! I'm always wrong! Go
right
!” said Lucy.

Try as she might, Jane couldn't slow herself down. In fact, she was walking faster and faster. So were Lucy and Megan. Hearts pounding, they rounded the corner . . .

And ran smack into the mummy.

A shredded, festering mummy. Its face hidden, its arms outstretched, its bandages dragging on the floor behind it.

No one remembered Lucy's warning about walking, not running. All three girls wheeled around and raced back the way they had come.

“Oh no oh no oh no oh no.” Megan was half sobbing next to Jane. Jane wanted to tell her to save her breath, but she couldn't waste her own breath on talking.

She looked quickly back over her shoulder and shuddered. The mummy was running too—a stiff-legged, awkward run like something straight out of a bad horror movie.

But something seemed a little off. As frightened as she was, Jane couldn't help remembering the trick with the fly mask that Lucy had played on her earlier that evening. Still, it wouldn't make sense to stop running. To give up on hope.

These thoughts all flashed through Jane's mind in an instant. Her legs were still pounding along. From behind her, she could hear the mummy lurching closer. And then, out of the blue, it started laughing.

Laughing in a voice that all three of the girls recognized. The mummy raised one hand and ripped the toilet paper off its face, revealing a grinning Daria.

“Gotcha,” she said.

Gasping, the three girls stared at her. Then Megan slumped over, panting dramatically. “You almost gave me a heart attack!” she said.

“I knew
you'd
be afraid,” Daria answered smugly. “But Jane and Lucy should have seen their faces. They were just as scared as you.”

Jane
had
been scared, but now she was furious at herself for having been tricked so easily. She was even angrier at Daria. What a waste of time this whole night had been!

“Hardy-har-har,” said Lucy, who also looked very angry. “You know what, Daria? I don't care if there is a mummy in the museum. I'm going to go back to the Great Hall and forget this whole stupid thing.”

“It was just a joke!” said Daria.

“A stupid one,” Jane replied.

“Well, aren't
we
sensitive?” said Daria sarcastically.

“Please don't fight,” quavered Megan. “I get scared when people get mad at each other.”

Which was probably the first and last time Jane, Lucy, and Daria agreed about something: Megan was a total baby.

“Anyway,” Megan continued, “I never wanted to be
outside
the Great Hall. If you guys hadn't practically kidnapped me after you woke me up, I'd be safe in my sleeping bag right now.”

By now Lucy had a pretty good idea where they were. “If we go up those stairs, I think the Great Hall will be right around the corner,” she told them. “Let's go.”

Jane and Lucy walked toward the stairs in silence. Megan was next to them, still whimpering a protest under her breath.