Family of Spies, page 5
“Ford, trust your instincts,” she said and closed the door.
The click of the lock echoed in the empty corridor.
Gavin shuddered. “Well, that was…something.”
Ellie stared at Ford. “Yeah, something. What do you think? Do you really believe her?”
Ford squared his shoulders. The old woman’s words ran through his mind.
You are a psychic genius and you are going to do great things.
Trust your instincts.
His instincts told him to trust her. “Yes, I do.”
Gavin smiled. “Me too. As unreal as it may sound, Ford being psychic makes the most logical sense.”
“I am still not fully convinced, but if you two think so, we need to get busy,” Ellie said with a sharp nod. “And I know exactly where we should begin.” She typed madly on her phone. “A library. Time for some good old-fashioned research.”
“Research?” Ford’s heart sank. The last place he wanted to spend the rest of his first day—his first fully awake day in Paris, was a stuffy old library. “I thought we’d do something exciting.”
“This will be exciting, Ford. It’s just like Mme. Bellerose said, we are solving a puzzle and the puzzle is—” She paused for dramatic effect and looked up from her phone. She wiggled her dark eyebrows at Ford as she continued, “—our great-grandfather’s shady past and why you are channelling his memories.”
Ford couldn’t stop from smiling. Everything was more fun with Ellie around, even if she had her doubts about him. He sighed. “Okay, okay. But a library? Really?”
“Yes, and we are not going to just any library. We’re going to one that specializes in military history.” She thumped him on the back. “We’re talking about the Sainte-Geneviève Library.”
“Right. Sounds great,” he said, quickly trying to find a way out of her library adventure. “But don’t we need to get back to the apartment before our parents do?”
“Their tour will take up the rest of the day and my dad said they won’t be back until six o’clock. That gives us hours of solid research time.” Ellie’s eyes sparkled. Ford couldn’t help but smile because who besides his cousin would get this excited over spending hours in a library?
“And if we run out of time, we can always go back to the library tomorrow,” added Gavin.
Right. His brother.
Chapter 11
“Hours of research time. Sounds lame,” Ford muttered as they traipsed down the stairs.
Ellie led the way out of Mme. Bellerose’s apartment block and back to the bus stop. Two buses sat at the curb. Ellie pointed to the display screen above the front window of the second one. “That’s the one we need.”
They climbed aboard and swiped their travel pass cards through the reader. Every seat was taken, so they grabbed handrails. The bus pulled into traffic and Ford stared out the open window as Paris raced by. Distinct Parisian smells filled the bus: baked bread as they passed la patisserie, the pungent smell of coffee from a quaint corner café, and the strong perfume of les fleurs from a street-side florist all teased Ford’s senses.
“We’re actually in France,” he said.
Ellie laughed. “Yes, my dear Watson. Thank you for finally noticing.”
He leaned forward across the aisle, peering around other passengers so he could get a better look at the buildings. “Some of those must be really old—like centuries old and they’re all so…French, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, because we’re in France. If it looked like Japan, we’d be in big trouble.”
“Le hardee-har-har. You know what I mean.”
Ellie laughed. “Yeah, I do.”
Gavin poked his head between Ellie and Ford. “You know, Parisians are lucky. I read the Germans never ransacked the city like they did everywhere else because even Nazis knew great architecture and works of art when they saw it.”
Gavin and Ellie began a deep discussion about World War 2, which Ford knew nothing about. He watched his brother’s face light up as he recited by heart the key dates of each major battle. Ford shook his head. Could they be any more opposite? He never would have thought to compare a math problem to solving the mystery of his visions. What had Gavin said? They needed to look at the problem differently? And he had been right. Of course.
Ford glanced at Gavin and pushed down a rising surge of jealousy. It had never seemed fair that both Ellie and Gavin were Einstein-smart like their great-grandfather, but today all that changed. Now he was in the Genius Club, too. He wanted to shout it out loud, but since he had to keep his abilities a secret, that wasn’t possible. He’d have to settle for convincing Ellie of it.
The bus squealed to a halt and the passengers leaned forward and rocked back, moving as one. Ellie stood on tiptoes and peered out the front window. “This is our stop.” She moved to the exit.
The trio stepped onto the sidewalk, and as the bus pulled away, Ford’s mouth fell open. Across the road stood an enormous building that looked like it belonged more in Rome than France. Six stone pillars rising thirty feet high supported a huge triangular pediment and carved into it was a scene of a woman passing out crowns. At least a dozen more columns towered behind that one, supporting a massive dome.
“Wow! I never knew a library could look so amazing!” Ford said.
“It is impressive, but the outside is nothing compared to the inside,” Ellie replied.
“It must be incredible.”
“Wait! Ford.” Ellie tugged at his arm. “You are looking at the wrong building.” She turned him completely around and pointed to a building that stood behind him. “This is La Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève. The building you were looking at is the Pantheon.”
“Oh.” Ford’s heart sank, draining his enthusiasm as his excitement plummeted deep into his chest. The library was a boring, large, rectangle-shaped building. It would’ve fit right into the Old Market Square area of Winnipeg. He glanced back at the Pantheon. Goosebumps rose along his arms.
“Ellie, there’s something about that building—I have that déjà vu feeling.”
“Hmmm…” she replied, patting her backpack. “There was a photo of the Pantheon in the briefcase and also a letter that mentions it.”
“Do you think that means the Pantheon was important to Great-Granddad?” Ford asked.
“I don’t know. You’re the one who will know for sure, at least according to the all-knowing Mme. Bellerose.”
Ford decided to ignore her jibe. “Maybe I should hold one of the photos and see if I can tap into a vision.”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Gavin said, shifting his bag from one shoulder to the other. “Guys, before we start following Great-Granddad’s memories all over Paris, we need to know as much as possible about him so we aren’t jumping into this blindly. If Ford is going to go wandering into our great-grandfather’s past, we should be better prepared.”
“Good point. Research calls and that I can get excited about,” said Ellie. “C’mon Ford.”
Ford slowly tore his eyes from the Pantheon and together the cousins sprinted across the parking lot to the library’s arched doorway. Ellie led them up the stairs, and they slowed as they entered the building, their footfalls echoing through the entranceway and up the two-storey-high arched ceilings.
“Let’s go…” Ellie looked into the library proper. “This way.” She led them into a room as long as a football field, its high, arched ceiling just like the cathedrals Mom had shown him in preparation for this trip. The carved wood and ornate decorations were far more impressive in real life.
“Wow, I’ve never been in a building with forty-foot ceilings before. This totally reminds me of the dining hall at Hogwarts,” Ford said, staring around the cavernous room.
“It is awe-inspiring, isn’t it?” Gavin said.
“Yeah, awe-inspiring,” Ford repeated. Why couldn’t his brother speak like every other normal sixteen-year-old on the planet? It was like living with a sixty-year-old grandpa. An extremely bright sixty-year-old grandpa who preferred solving math problems to playing video games.
They followed Ellie past row after row of long wooden tables that ran the width of the library. Each table had four lamps on it and each lamp had a glass shade the exact colour of a Granny Smith apple. Ford rubbed his stomach. He shouldn’t have let Ellie rush him through breakfast.
Hopefully she thought to schedule a lunch break into their first “fun-filled” Paris day.
Chapter 12
“Take a deep breath, boys,” Ellie instructed as they reached the library’s information desk.
Ford stared at her, puzzled. “Why?”
“Just do it.”
Ford and Gavin inhaled.
“Don’t you just love that smell?” Ellie’s grin was huge, her brown eyes bright. Ford shook his head. Maybe she was the one losing her mind. He took another deep whiff.
“Sure. It’s very”—he paused, searching for the right word—“library-esque.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “It’s the smell of parchment, ancient books, and history,” Ellie’s voice grew in volume, “and culture and knowledge and—”
“I wish it was the smell of a burger and fries,” Ford interrupted. “I’m starving.”
“You are a Neanderthal,” she proclaimed and pinched him in the arm. Gavin stifled a laugh and stepped behind Ford, well out of Ellie’s reach. Ellie slung her bag onto the dark mahogany counter. The metal clasps on her backpack clanked on the wood.
“Excuse-moi,” an older man called to Ellie. He sprung from a tall-backed leather chair, pointing at her backpack. “Ce n’est pas une cafétéria. Retire ton sac.”
Ford couldn’t follow anything he said, but there was no misunderstanding his curt tone. The librarian glared at Ellie as she carefully removed her bag.
“Je suis désolée,” Ellie apologized, her face flushed red.
“Ah,” he said, scoffing. “American.” He spat out the word.
“What did she do wrong? He spoke too fast for me to follow,” Ford whispered to Gavin.
Gavin nodded to the counter. “Apparently it is very rude to place your bag there.”
“How may I help you?” the librarian asked, his gaze travelling from Ellie to Ford and finally to Gavin, his lips pressed into a tight line. His nose twitched, as if he smelled something foul.
“Looks like he thinks we’re garbage and the only place he wants to help us is out of the building to the trash can,” Ford whispered to Ellie.
“Shhh,” she said to him and then smiled at the librarian. “We’re looking for information about World War 2.”
“Can you possibly narrow down the search? As you see, the war raged on long before you Americans got involved.”
“Maybe this will help.” Ellie pulled out a handful of old photos and pointed to the counter. “I can place these here, right?”
Ford cringed at the sarcasm in her voice. Dad needed to talk to her about getting more bees with honey than vinegar.
“Of course,” the man replied. An equal amount of irritation laced his words. Ellie had met her match. The librarian glanced at his watch. “Je m’excuse. It is now time for my lunch. Au revoir.” He nodded to them, picked up his briefcase, and draped his blazer over his shoulder.
“But,” Ellie said, as he brushed past them. He didn’t say another word before vanishing through a door that was almost completely hidden in the wood-panelled walls.
“Where did he go?” Ford asked.
“To lunch, I guess,” Gavin said.
Ellie looked around the room. “I suppose we can just look through the stacks ourselves…”
Ford’s jaw dropped as he followed her gaze. Banking the walls of the entire second floor were books. They ran the entire length of the long, rectangular library. “No way! There’s got to be hundreds, no, thousands of books up there, and what if they are all in French?”
Ellie tilted her head to the side, examining the shelves. “There has to be a way.” She pursed her lips. “Hmmm.” Ford knew she was deep in planning mode.
“Excusez-moi. Avez-vous été servis?” a woman asked from behind Ford, tapping him on the shoulder.
“Have we been served?” Ford repeated her question in English as he turned to face her. His face grew slack, his eyes softened. “No, not really. I-I mean, non.”
“Oh, Americans!” the French woman said, clapping her hands. She pushed a lock of long, honey-blonde hair behind her ear. Her blue eyes shone behind her stylish black-rimmed glasses. “Please, let me speak to you en anglais—I should say, in English. I need much practising.”
“I’m Canadian actually and you can practise on me,” Ford replied.
“Or me,” Gavin offered, shouldering Ford out of the way. “I’m Canadian too.”
“Oh, brother.” Ellie rolled her eyes at them both.
The young librarian smiled at Ellie and asked, “Are they your…brothers? Are you…” she paused for a moment. “Siblings? Is that the right word?”
No one ever guessed that Ellie was their sister, which was fairly reasonable thanks to Ford and Gavin’s vampire-pale skin and Ellie’s darker, mellow-bronze complexion. In fact, some people didn’t even believe they could be cousins. According to Ellie, those people were unevolved cretins.
“Yes, siblings is correct, but they’re both my cousins.”
“Ah, yes.” The librarian glanced between the boys and Ellie. “I can see you and the younger one have matching freckles.”
“Yes, that is one of the few things Ford and I have in common. My cousins, though, are both numbskulls,” Ellie said.
“Numb-skulls?” She repeated, her shiny, pink, lip-glossed mouth forming each syllable. Ford’s heartbeat cantered in his chest. He’d never met a girl like her. She was prettier than any girl he had ever seen.
“It means they are being idiots.” Ellie elbowed Ford hard in the ribs. He stumbled into Gavin, who slammed into the high counter.
“Ford!” Gavin said between gritted teeth as he pushed Ford back.
“It wasn’t me!” Ford shoved Gavin.
“Ah,” the woman said. “You act like siblings, like my brother, Jean-Paul and I. We tease and fight, but we are best friends too.”
Ford glared at Ellie. “I bet you don’t call Jean-Paul a numbskull.”
The woman chuckled. “No, he is my little brother so I call him mon petit andouille. It is like saying…my little goof. So it is almost the same, yes?”
“Sort of. I bet you’re the nicest sister in the world. I bet you’re never bossy,” Ford said, still scowling at Ellie.
Ellie spoke through a forced smile. “Knock it off, Ford. We’re here to get help.”
“That is correct. How can I help you, Ellie and…” the librarian looked at the boys. She pulled at her ear, frowning. She said something so quietly Ford couldn’t understand it. She then shrugged her shoulders and continued. “How can I help you, Ellie and…Fork? Your name is Fork? Is that correct?” she asked. “Your name is like, argenterie…silverware?”
Ellie squealed with laughter. Gavin joined in.
Ford didn’t utter a sound. He couldn’t. He was too busy dying of embarrassment.
“This is too good.” Ellie gasped for breath. “I think I’ll call you Fork, no, The Forkster from now on!”
Ford’s whole body burned. Pretty soon he’d burst into flames if Ellie didn’t shut up.
The librarian looked from Ellie to Ford. “Did I say something funny?”
“No, it’s just—my name is Ford. F-O-R-D,” he said, ignoring Ellie’s giggles. “We’re trying to find out what our great-grandfather did in World War 2. It is a big family mystery. We have some photos and letters and we want to piece it together.”
“Ah, yes, that is a fascinating time period. I am the right bibliothécaire to assist you. And Ford,” she said his name carefully, while squeezing his hand. “You must call me Marie-Claire.”
Ellie squeezed his other hand, then spoke to Ford in a slow, kindergarten-teacher voice. “Bibliothécaire means librarian.”
“I know what it means.” He would’ve punched Ellie, but he was too focused on the invisible imprint Marie-Claire’s fingers left on his hand to clobber his cousin.
“And I’m Gavin, Fork’s older brother.”
“Gavin!” It took every last ounce of restraint Ford had not to jump on Gavin’s back and give him a life-changing nuggie.
Marie-Claire nodded and smiled at Ford. “What is the other reason you are here?”
“I need information about, about—” Ford began, but Marie-Claire licked her glistening lower lip and all thought in Ford’s brain froze.
“Are you okay? Are you having another vision?” Ellie asked.
Gavin glared at Ellie.
“You have…visions?” Marie-Claire asked. She frowned.
Ford’s face flushed, heat seared across his cheeks and up his ears. He took a big gulp, hoping she didn’t think he was a lunatic. “Ah—yeah, sort of, but not right now. Just—never mind…” Ford’s words dried in his mouth.
Marie-Claire’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment and then relaxed as her mouth slid into a smile. She looked over the counter, scanning the long room. She gave a quick nod of her head. “Come with me.” She led them around the counter to the librarian’s desk and sat down at the computer. “Let us begin the search for the war history, oui?”
“Oui,” Ford repeated.
Ellie shook her head. “You are pitiful.”
Gavin shouldered in front of Ford. “Never mind. Let’s get to work while Ford’s still capable of simple sentences.”
“Come along, mes amis, let us discover the secrets lost in the past,” said Marie-Claire, ending their argument.
Ellie whooped loudly, then covered her mouth. “Sorry, just excited that you’re talking my language. Can you please do a search for Edward Hugh Crawford?”
