Masterpiece (15 page)

She flipped onto her back and, with legs waving gaily in the air, soared down the slide even faster than Marvin had . . . although, he noted, she had insufficient leverage to fly off the bottom, so she crashed instead, thudding into the earthen hollow at the base of the spade.

“Good one,” he called approvingly.

“Let’s do a train,” Elaine suggested.

They climbed to the top of the spade and linked themselves, with Marvin’s hind legs grasping Elaine’s front ones, and off they went, faster than fast with their double weight propelling them down the slide.

They spent most of the morning coming up with variations on this theme: the double-decker (one on top
of the other), the spinning teacup (both sitting upright, with all six legs linked), the double belly flop (side by side, front legs touching, launching off the top of the spade into midair). Finally, they sunk into the soft earth, thoroughly exhausted.

“Is it lunchtime yet?” Elaine wanted to know. “I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Marvin replied. “But look at the clock.”

The blue and green wall clock, decorated with a ceramic relief of morning glories, hung on the opposite wall between the large windows. Marvin could see that its vine-ensconced hands exactly divided the face. The
beetles had worked out the basics of telling time from long observation of the big clock on the kitchen wall—it was handy to keep track of Pompaday mealtimes. While Marvin couldn’t identify numbers, he knew that the clock’s hands would both be pointing straight up at noon.

“We have a little while longer,” he told Elaine.

“Hmmm,” said Elaine. “I know! Let’s see what the turtle is up to.” She gave Marvin a challenging look. Technically, they were not supposed to go anywhere near the turtle aquarium, as Elaine knew full well. Both Mama and Aunt Edith deemed it entirely too dangerous.

Marvin hesitated. As long as they stayed outside the glass, what harm could there be? The turtle was sluggish and indifferent to visitors anyway, unlikely to notice them.

“Okay,” Marvin said.

“Really?” Elaine squealed in delight. “I was sure you’d say no. I think you’re getting braver, Marvin.”

She thumped his shell approvingly and scuttled across the geranium bed, along the wrought-iron shelf, then down one leg of the plant stand to the floor. Marvin followed her, glancing around to make sure the maids were gone. It never took them long to clean the solarium, but they always left the French doors open for a while to air the room out. Mrs. Pompaday would close them in the evening, when the beetles had long since returned home. On rare occasions, Mama and Papa organized a camping trip, and the whole family stayed overnight. But the grown-ups were always careful
to watch the human comings and goings, because, as Papa noted, the last thing they needed was for the Pompadays to spy a beetle and decide to wage a wholesale fumigation campaign in this pleasant vacation spot. That might ruin it for good.

“The coast is clear,” Marvin told her.

“Go behind the table,” Elaine urged. “So our parents won’t see us.”

Marvin led the way behind the large wooden table where the turtle aquarium rested in the center, surrounded by small flowerpots of orchids and violets. He climbed up the plaster wall, over the lip of the table, and along the polished surface to the glass corner of the aquarium. The tank was half-filled with murky green water. It had a large flat rock on one side—with a shallow plastic food bowl in the middle of it—where the turtle climbed out to sun himself when he wasn’t swimming. He was rarely swimming, it seemed to Marvin, and today, true to form, he was hunched impassively on the edge of the rock, next to the food bowl.

“He’s not doing much,” Marvin noted.

“Oh, he never is, is he?” Elaine scoffed. “Boring old thing.” She climbed a few inches up the side of the glass. “Let’s see if we can get his attention.”

“Elaine,” Marvin said, worried. “I don’t think you should do that.”

“Come on, it’s perfectly safe. I’m on the outside.”

“I know, but we’re not even supposed to be over here.” Marvin peered in either direction nervously. If
one of the grown-ups saw Elaine climbing the side of the aquarium, there would certainly be a to-do.

“Are you coming?” Elaine asked impatiently.

Marvin sighed. Reluctantly, he climbed a couple of inches up the glass. It was slippery and cool underfoot.

Elaine was several inches above him, waving her legs at the turtle. “Yoo-hoo! Over here, you big lug . . . heads up! Look sharp!”

The turtle didn’t budge.

“Oh, honestly. He’s blind as a bat.” Elaine crawled toward the top edge of the aquarium.

“Elaine, don’t,” Marvin protested. “You’re too close. You’ll fall in.”

“No, I won’t,” Elaine retorted. “Besides, it wouldn’t matter if I did. That turtle is too old and too tired and too dumb to care.”

Marvin climbed a little farther. As he was approaching the middle of the wall, he saw a flash of something—so quick he wasn’t sure he’d seen it—and then
thunk
! The side of the aquarium shook with a force that threw him to the ground.

Why, that sly old thing
, Marvin thought. The turtle must have spotted him after all. He’d lunged at the wall of the tank, not realizing Marvin was on the other side, out of reach, and now thrashed through the water along the wall of the tank, his sleek head moving back and forth.

“Did you see that?” Marvin called to Elaine. He
crawled back up the wall of glass. When she didn’t answer, he looked up.

Elaine was nowhere to be seen.

“Elaine!” Marvin shouted. Maybe when the turtle rammed the glass she’d fallen over backward too. He clung to the glass and looked around, scanning the round, furry leaves of the violets, the pale orchid blossoms. “Elaine, where are you?”

Still no response. Marvin, increasingly frantic, climbed farther up the side of the aquarium for a better view. “Elaine!”

Then he saw her. She was floating on her back in the water below, perfectly still, while the turtle dove and surfaced nearby.

S
he must have toppled over the edge when the turtle struck the glass.

“Elaine, don’t move!” Marvin cried to her. “Don’t make any noise! He doesn’t see you yet. I’m coming.”

Thank goodness she was on her back, Marvin thought, because Elaine was definitely not a swimmer. On her back, at least she could float . . . but she couldn’t do anything to save herself. And with the turtle careening through the water like that, it was only a matter of time till he saw her.

Marvin dashed around the rim of the tank, his eyes never leaving his cousin. When he reached the back of the aquarium, he cautiously climbed over the edge and started down the inside wall. He was too high up for the turtle to see him, but he had to make it all the way down the side unnoticed.

Elaine was staring up at Marvin with huge frightened eyes. The turtle glided and dipped through the
water, inches away, his long glistening neck thrashing back and forth like a sea monster’s.

Marvin waited till the turtle was facing the front of the tank, then ran quickly down the back wall. The glass was slippery with condensation. As soon as the turtle turned toward him, Marvin froze. Elaine was drifting toward the large rock, and the turtle was now headed that way, stumpy legs churning the water.

Marvin tried to think what to do. The easiest thing would be to crawl onto the rock and pull her out when she floated close enough. But there wasn’t time. The turtle was swimming straight for her.

“Elaine,” he cried, “when I grab your leg, hold tight!”

Taking a deep breath, Marvin dove off the wall directly into the cloudy green water.

Immediately he was submerged. As soon as he opened his eyes he could see the turtle’s massive underbelly above him, his legs thrashing toward Elaine, who was caught in the propulsion, spinning wildly.

Marvin shot up toward Elaine’s black shell, reaching blindly for her leg. He sensed rather than saw the snapping jaws of the turtle just as he yanked Elaine away with him into the depths.

They dove, down, down, through the dark water, with Marvin zigging and zagging just out of reach of the turtle. Marvin swam as fast as he could, but minus his peanut-shell float and with one leg gripping Elaine, he
had neither the strength nor the speed that he was used to. Every time he glanced behind him, the turtle’s head loomed closer, his beady eyes fixed on the two beetles.

Finally they reached the rock. Marvin heaved Elaine over the edge of it and gasped for breath, then immediately swam away, hoping the turtle would follow him instead. They had no hope of escaping together; it would take too long to climb out of reach.