Chapter Fourteen: Through the Storm Drain
Though Elliot and Eliza now had a pretty good idea where the map was hidden, there was nothing they could do about it just yet. Their final dress rehearsal for Godfrey Gallagher: the Musical was the next day, and as Agnes had told them to bring their sleeping bags, they doubted there’d be much time left over for snooping around gravesites.
“I just hope George hasn’t already found it,” said Elliot the next morning as he yanked on his costume. He and the rest of the cast had been exempt from classes that day in order to attend rehearsal.
“He’s probably never even seen that article, Elliot,” said Eliza calmly. “He won’t have any idea where to look.” She slipped her feather-clad hat atop her head and adjusted it in the mirror. “As soon as the show is over with, we’ll locate Poppy’s tomb and retrieve the map.”
“Right,” Elliot agreed, for lack of something better to say, but despite the fact that they were only a day away from the performance, he couldn’t help feeling as though time wasn’t on their side.
They finished putting on their costumes and then joined a line of other cast members waiting to have their makeup done by Pauline La Russo. Eliza, of course, was not happy about this. “She’s going to make me look like a raccoon or something, I just know it!” she complained. Sure enough, when Mrs. La Russo was done with her, Eliza was a unicycle away from looking like a clown, and she had to spend the next ten minutes in the girls’ bathroom wiping off the excess.
“Looks better,” Elliot lied when she reappeared, but Eliza knew better than to believe him and repaid the compliment with a pronounced huff.
By this point, most of the cast had gathered on stage awaiting Agnes’s pre-rehearsal pep talk, and Elliot and Eliza joined them just as the withering woman was staggering toward the front of the theater.
“Now listen up,” Agnes croaked once she’d steadied herself atop her stool. “You’ve got one more chance to get this right. After that, all of Giggleswick will know how miserable you are.” She leered at each student, sometimes pointing with a gnarled finger at those she must have felt were in particular danger of being miserable. When her eyes fell on Jamie Boot, her lip curled up, and the boy gulped at the sight of her.
“As you may have realized,” she addressed the cast, her eyes still on Jamie, “Mr. Boot has proven himself thoroughly incapable of operating anything more than the curtain, and so my son George will be running the stage lights for tomorrow’s performance.”
Elliot and Eliza nudged each other at the same time. “That’ll keep him out of trouble for one day at least,” whispered Eliza.
The rest of the cast seemed happy George would be backstage as well, because it meant Agnes would likely be more pleasant. The only person who did not appear happy about this was Jamie, who was staring at his shoes with a face as red as the curtain he would be manning.
They finished the first act feeling pretty good about themselves. No one had forgotten their lines or sang out of tune, and Jamie had pulled the curtain at precisely the right times. Nevertheless, Agnes looked so disgusted she couldn’t even speak, and they were dismissed to the cafeteria for lunch.
Elliot and Eliza made sure to sit by Jamie to help cheer him up, but Marigold soon joined them, and as usual her gloom counteracted any amount of cheerfulness the rest of them tried to bring to the conversation.
“I thought you’d been running the lights beautifully,” Eliza told Jamie, and he smiled weakly back at her.
“Yeah,” said Elliot, “and Agnes probably just said what she did because she was dying to include her son in the show.”
“Or,” Marigold mumbled, “maybe she said it because you’re not especially good at running lights. Some aren’t, you know.”
Elliot and Eliza shook their heads back and forth and let out a sigh of defeat, and by the time the lunch bell rang, they were ready for the day to be over with.
Agnes wasn’t any happier with the second act than she’d been with the first, and she made them run the entire show over again so that by the time they’d gotten out of their costumes and were heading home it was nearly nine o’clock at night.
Hungry and half-asleep, Elliot and Eliza said goodbye to one another outside their houses, and ten minutes later, Elliot was switching off the light on his bedside table and curling up under the covers.
For once in a very long time, he was too tired to think about the map, and he slipped off to sleep.
* * *
By the next evening, Elliot and Eliza were both excited, but for rather different reasons –– Eliza because of the performance, and Elliot because it would soon be over.
The theater grew noisier as the start of the performance neared, and Elliot poked his head out of the curtain to get a look at the crowd. To his surprise, the theater was jam-packed and many people were standing in the back.
He yanked his head back out. “Come look at this, Eliza. It’s a full house!”
Eliza, who was nervously reading and re-reading her script, seemed unfazed. “Of course it is! It’s the biggest event of the year,” she said, though her eyes never left the page.
Elliot poked his head back out of the curtain. It looked as though everyone from Giggleswick was there, from Constable Humphrey and Vice Constable Primrose to all seven burly Finster brothers. Even Sir Duncan of Celliwig was stationed at the door handing out programs in his usual Robin Hood getup. “For you, my lady,” or “There you are, my lad,” Elliot saw Sir Duncan mouth as each new person entered.
In the front row, Pauline La Russo had finished applying the cast’s makeup and was seated beside her husband, Henri, who was holding a single bundle of roses in his lap. Elliot thought there should have been two bundles of roses considering both of their daughters were in the show, but after all, the La Russos probably weren’t intending to acknowledge Priscilla.
Elliot then looked for his own parents and soon spotted them sitting beside the Noodles in the middle of the theater with a perfect view of the stage. Mrs. Bisby saw Elliot and waved, and then something Elliot hadn’t been expecting happened –– his stomach gave a little lurch. He pulled the curtain closed and took a deep breath.
“What’s the matter?” Eliza asked when she’d seen his face, but before Elliot could explain his sudden nerves, Agnes came hobbling past at a greater speed than they’d have ever thought her capable, wearing a sparkly sequined shawl overtop her usual slacks and orthopedic shoes. On her head was a wig Elliot had never seen before that was bright red with a white streak in front. Unfortunately, Agnes’s attitude was the same as always.
“Quit standing around like everything’s honky-dory, and somebody locate my son! The show’s about to begin!” she barked, nearly whacking several students in the head with her erratic hand gestures.
Jamie Boot peeked out from behind one of the prop pieces of furniture. “No one’s seen George, Ms. Detweiler. He hasn’t arrived yet,” he said bravely.
Everyone was expecting an outburst, but instead a worried glow came over Agnes’s face. “Well,” she muttered, “I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.” She puffed out her chest and then regained control of her emotions with a heavy dose of shouting. “Places, everybody! Places! And Jamie –– if George doesn’t show, you do the lights. But don’t screw up!” She wrinkled her face at them once more and then slammed the stage door behind her on the way out.
A moment later, Cass Tinnettes began pounding the opening notes of the overture into the piano keys, and Elliot and Eliza exchanged nervous glances when there was still no sign of George.
“Where do you think he’s got to?” Eliza whispered.
Elliot swallowed hard. He was afraid to say, but he was pretty sure he knew the answer to that question. “Well, all of Giggleswick is here to see this show, you see,” he began.
“So,” said Eliza impatiently. “You don’t think––”
Elliot nodded. “Yup. With everyone here, George won’t have to worry about being seen while he looks for the map.”
“We’ve got to do something!” Eliza practically shouted.
“Shh,” Elliot insisted as several students shuffled past.
“We can’t make a scene. Let’s think about this.”
But Eliza continued. “What are we going to do? We can’t leave now!”
“No, you’re right,” he sighed. “We can’t.”
“Well, I’m only on stage for the first act –– we could leave during the intermission!” Eliza suggested.
“What about your curtain call?” said Elliot. “No one will miss me in the chorus, but they’ll be expecting to see you take a bow.”
“Never mind that ... Posey would only steal my thunder anyway,” said Eliza dismissively. “Meet me here after the first act. As soon as the curtain closes, we’ll leave through the back door.”
“Right,” said Elliot, and he got up from his seat to join the chorus for their first scene on stage. “Oh, and Eliza?” he said.
“Yes?”
“You’ll be great,” he told her with a smile.
She smiled back at him. “Thanks. So will you.”
A minute later, the curtain opened and Elliot and the other early Giggleswickians were thrown into the spot-light. He blinked away the purple spots that had formed in front of his eyes and began singing “Yo ho! It’s the peaceful life for me!” with the others as Godfrey Gallagher’s ship was pushed across the stage. The nerves Elliot had felt when he’d seen his parents in the audience were all but gone, and now all he could think about was finding the map before George got to it.
Eliza was right, he told himself while the lyrics to the song spilled on auto-pilot from his lips. George had probably never read that article and wouldn’t know where to begin looking. But as this thought passed through Elliot’s mind, he realized he didn’t believe it for a minute. He doubted George would have skipped the show without having a pretty good idea where to find the map, which meant Elliot and Eliza were going to have to act fast.
He counted down the minutes till the first act would be over, each minute feeling longer than the last. It didn’t help that Jamie was having considerable difficulty with the lighting during scene changes, or that Posey-Bernadette seemed to be stretching her solos out to epic proportions. Elliot thought he might be sick when Henri La Russo shouted “Brava!” after almost every utterance from Posey’s lips or when Pauline La Russo waved idiotically with a cheesy smile and a handful of rings and long turquoise fingernails.
When Eliza took the stage as Wailing Wanda, Elliot saw the Noodles and his own parents clapping energetically –– Wally so much so that he nearly whacked off his bow-tie. Later, as Eliza belted out the last few notes of her solo, a flash of light came from somewhere in the audience. Elliot squinted to get a better look and found Wally again with what looked like an old Polaroid camera in his hands, which he’d no doubt picked up on one of his trips to America thinking it was terrifically advanced technology. There were several more flashes of light as Eliza let out a few good wails and some drowning noises before collapsing dead on the stage, and an expression of delight appeared on Wally’s face each time a new picture popped out of his camera.
After what seemed like hours of lost time, Jamie finally yanked the curtain closed on Act I, and Elliot tore off his costume and ran to meet Eliza by the back door.
“Still want to do this?” Eliza asked, catching her breath.
“We have to,” said Elliot. “I just hope we’re not too late.”
They could still hear the audience’s applause as they slipped out the back door and down the grassy slope behind the theater. A sliver of sun still clung to the horizon, illuminating their path into town.
“Where do we start looking? The cemetery?” said Eliza frantically.
Elliot had already been thinking about this. “I have a better idea,” he said, though he didn’t take the time to explain.
Eliza ran to keep up, following him past Godfrey Gallagher’s fountain and through town until they found themselves charging down Amity Drive. “If anyone knows anything ... it’ll be Boots,” Elliot shouted in-between gasps of air, and he soon stumbled to a halt outside the woman’s house, wheezing and clutching at his chest.
Eliza doubled over beside him, panting and wiping sweat from her forehead. “Good,” she said, “idea.”
Luckily, Boots had been outside weeding when they’d arrived, and she was now looking desperately curious. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. “Well? Aren’t either of you going to tell me what’s the matter?” she spat.
Elliot took one last breath. “Quick! We haven’t much time ... have you seen George Detweiler?”
Boots hesitated at first, likely trying once again to conceal the fact that she was an incurable busybody. “Well, coincidentally, I just so happened to be pulling weeds when he came running by. You’ve only just missed him,” she said.
Elliot didn’t spare a moment. “Where has he gone?” he shouted.
“It was very odd, actually. He went down that storm drain there at the end of the road,” she said, and before she could get in another word, Elliot and Eliza were gone. “But I wouldn’t go down there if I were you! You’ll get yourselves hurt!” she called after them.
Elliot and Eliza could hardly hear Boots shouting at them anymore as they neared the storm drain. Kneeling to the ground, they stuck their fingers through the lid and heaved the heavy metal grate out of its crevice and off to the side to reveal a deep black hole.
“I’ll go first,” said Elliot, already climbing down the ladder. He couldn’t see the bottom as he lowered himself deeper and deeper under the ground, and it wasn’t until he heard the thump of his own feet striking cement that he knew he’d made it.
“Elliot, was that you?” Eliza called down through the hole. The sound of her voice echoed up and down the drain pipe.
“Don’t yell!” Elliot whispered. “I don’t want us to be heard. Now climb down –– it’s a bit of a ways, but I’ll help you at the bottom.”
Eliza turned around in the hole and clung closely to the ladder rungs as she climbed down, and a minute later Elliot saw the soles of her shoes come into view.
“Careful now, you’re almost there,” he said.
“Thanks,” said Eliza as she let go of the ladder and swatted at several spider webs that had gotten caught in her hair.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. When Elliot’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he looked to his right but couldn’t make anything out. At first, when he looked to his left, he wasn’t sure he’d seen anything at all, but once his eyes had relaxed some more, he was almost certain of a faint glow off in the distance.
“I think we should go this way,” he said, giving Eliza a nudge.
He felt her clinging to the back of his shirt. “You first,” she said. “This place gives me the creeps!”
Elliot took several steps forward, trying to tread lightly. He wanted to make as little noise as possible, but he also had no idea where his feet were stepping since he couldn’t see past his nose. At one point, there was no mistaking the sound of a mouse scurrying by them along the concrete, and Elliot did his best to cover Eliza’s mouth when she went to let out a scream.
“It’s only a mouse!” he hissed. “Do you want to give us away?”
“Sorry,” she moaned.
They continued to walk along the grubby underworld of Giggleswick, their feet occasionally splashing in pools of leftover rainwater, and after what felt like a very long time, the glow Elliot had seen began to grow larger and larger.
Elliot’s hands shook, and a cold sweat came over him as the glow soon began to resemble a room, and when they’d made it to the end of the drain pipe, Elliot and Eliza both held their breath.
Golden light was flickering against a moldy stone wall, illuminating the contents of the room. They’d been expecting it all along, but now that it was right there in front of them, Elliot and Eliza could hardly believe their eyes.
They were staring into a dimly lit crypt.
At first, it appeared to be empty, and the only sound they heard was that of water dripping in the pipes. Elliot then leaned his head slowly into the room looking for any sign of George, but all he could make out was the flickering light and several rows of cement tombs.
Eliza pulled Elliot back away from the edge. “What’ll we do if we see George?” she whispered.
Elliot hadn’t thought of this. “Well, there’s two of us and only one of him,” he said, though as the words left his mouth, he realized how stupid they sounded.
Eliza frowned.
“I don’t know. We’ll think of something,” Elliot said. “Maybe he went the wrong way at the bottom of the ladder –– I don’t think he’s in here. Either way, we’ve got to get that map!”
He stepped quietly out of the drain pipe and into the crypt, motioning for Eliza to follow him once he’d made sure the coast was clear. Cobwebs clung to their arms and legs as they shuffled through the damp and moldy room, brushing off each tomb in hopes of finding Poppy’s name beneath the layer of dust.
“He’s not in any of these,” said Eliza, having searched several tombs along the back wall. Elliot hadn’t come across it either and was getting ready to dust off another tomb when he spotted something in the corner. He felt his stomach tighten as it became clear that what he’d seen was a wooden door.
“Psst,” he said to get Eliza’s attention. When she looked up, he pointed to the door.
Eliza gulped.
Knowing what he would have to do, Elliot took a deep breath and walked slowly toward it, his hand lingering on the latch for several seconds before he summoned the courage to give it a push.
The door creaked open and Elliot peered inside. With just one look, the blood drained from his face and he backed away as quickly as he possibly could, stumbling over a tomb and falling backwards to the floor.
Eliza gasped as she saw what Elliot had seen.
There beyond the door, holding a lantern above an open tomb, was George. He was grinning at them from ear to ear and clutching a folded piece of parchment in his hand.