When the Curtain Rises
W
HEN the
C
URTAIN
R
ISES
W
HEN the
C
URTAIN
R
ISES
Rachel Dunstan Muller
O
rca
B
ook
P
ublishers
Text copyright © 2007 Rachel Dunstan Muller
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Muller, Rachel Dunstan, 1970-
When the curtain rises / written by Rachel Dunstan Muller.
ISBN-13: 978-1-55143-615-9
ISBN-10: 1-55143-615-9
I. Title.
PS8626.U445W44 2007 Â Â Â Â Â jC813'.6 Â Â Â Â Â C2006-906136-X
First published in the United States, 2007
Library of Congress Control Number
: 2006937244
Summary: Chloe confronts her own fears when she investigates the strange history of her great-grandfather, a magician who disappeared at the height of his popularity.
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Typesetting by Christine Toller
Cover artwork by Pol Turgen
Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 5626, Stn. B
Victoria, BC Canada
V8R 6S4
Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 468
Custer, WA USA
98240-0468
www.orcabook.com
Printed and bound in Canada.
Printed on 100% PCW paper.
10 09 08 07 ⢠4 3 2 1
For Bern, who believed.
Contents
“I
had the weirdest dream last night,” Chloe said as she slid into her seat at the kitchen table.
Her father looked up from his crossword puzzle. “Another nightmare?”
Chloe shook her head. “Not exactly.”
“You're up early on your first day of vacation,” said her mother. She pushed a box of cornflakes in Chloe's direction.“I've been awake since six. I couldn't get back to sleep.”
“So what was so strange about your dream?” asked her father.
Chloe shrugged, pushing aside a curl that had fallen into her eyes. “I don't know. It just felt so
real.
Like I was
there
. I was walking down a street through an old-fashioned town. On one side of the street there was a river, almost like a canal. The other side of the street was lined with tall houses. I stopped in front of the biggest one and just stood there staring at it. It was familiar somehow. Then I heard a woman call my name. I couldn't see who it was, but when I woke up I could still hear her voice in my head. It gave me goose bumps.”
Chloe's parents exchanged glances. “It sounds like the house in Little Venice,” said her father.
“What house?” Chloe said.
“Don't you remember?” asked her father.
“It's been about ten years since our last visit, Sam,” Chloe's mother pointed out. “Chloe couldn't have been more than two or three.”
“You're right,” said her father. “The old ladies couldn't get enough of you, Chloe, as I recall. The three of you were inseparable the entire time we were there.”
“What old ladies?” Chloe asked. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Maybe this will refresh your memory,” said her mother. She held up a cream envelope. “This came for you yesterday. I found it when I was sorting through the bills this morning.”
Chloe took the heavy envelope from her mother's manicured hand. There was no return address, but the envelope was postmarked Little Venice, Ontario. She broke the seal with her thumbnail. As she was removing the single folded page, a tiny golden key dropped into her lap. She picked up the key and stared at it for a moment before putting it on the table and turning her attention to the letter. She read the short note twice. There was no mention of the tiny key.
“Well, what does it say?” asked her father.
“It's an invitation,” said Chloe, slightly bewildered. “From your aunts, Dad. Elizabeth and Katherine. They want me to spend the summer with them in Little Venice.”
“Really?” said her mother. “How nice.”
“I'm not going,” Chloe said as she shoved the folded note back into its envelope. “It would be too weird.”
“What would be weird about it?” her father asked. “You could use a distraction right now. A change of scenery.”
“Dad,” Chloe said, turning red. “Don't start.”
“Start what? I'm not starting anything. I just said you could use a vacation.”
“Mom!”
“Don't look at me,” said her mother, raising her hands. “I think spending some time in Little Venice this summer is a great idea.”
Chloe eyed her parents suspiciously. “You knew about this before I even opened the letter, didn't you?”
“Yes, we did,” her mother admitted. “Your great-aunts called us a few weeks ago. They haven't seen you for a long time, and your dad and I talked about it and agreed that the timing was perfect. Your father's right, Chloe. A vacation would be a really healthy thing for you right now.”
“So let's all go to Hawaii, then.”
“You know I can't get away from Edmonton this summer,” said her mother. “With Jacqueline on maternity leave, my caseload has exploded. I'm lucky if I get to go to the bathroom these days.”
“We could always enroll you in summer camp somewhere,” her father said.
Chloe shook her head in alarm. “No way!”
“Right,” said her father. “Then why not give your great-aunts a try?”
“But I don't even
know
them! A visit when I was in diapers hardly counts.”
Chloe's mother put her empty bowl down on the counter and picked up her briefcase. “Here's your chance, then. Your great-aunts are getting old. They won't be around forever.”
“Do I have a choice?” asked Chloe.
Her father shrugged. “Of course you have a choice, Chloe. But think about it. You don't have to go for the whole summerâ how about just for a month? Little Venice is a magical place. I used to spend my vacations there, and I loved it.”
Chloe waited until both her parents were goneâher mother to her law office and her father to his music store in the mallâbefore getting up from the table. She cleaned up the kitchen, started the dishwasher and went directly to the baby grand piano in the living room.
Chloe lifted the heavy lid and ran her fingertips lightly over the keys. “Here goes nothing,” she told herself with a sigh, flexing her fingers. She moved quickly through her scales and then played a few practice pieces from memory. When she was satisfied that her hands were warmed up, she arranged the sheet music for Chopin's Nocturne in F-sharp Major on the narrow shelf in front of her. She took a few deep breaths and began.
Everything was fine as long as Chloe kept her mind empty of everything but the music. But as soon as she let the image of an audience creep into her mind, her pulse began to race and her hands started to tremble.
Chloe took a few calming breaths and started over again. This time she visualized Mrs. Jann, her piano teacher, seated on a stool beside her. But even that simple image distracted Chloe and made her stumble as she played.
“This is
stupid
!” Chloe cried after several more failed attempts to play the piece through to its conclusion. She let her clenched hands fall into her lap. Her head fell forward against the music on the ledge. “I can't do this,” she whispered. “It's too hard.”
“So. What did you do today?” her father asked as he tossed diced vegetables and pieces of chicken in a sizzling wok that evening.
“Not much,” Chloe said. “Ashley came over for a while. Her family's driving up to Yellowknife next week to visit her brother.”
“How long is she going to be gone?”
Chloe frowned. “A whole month. They're going camping all over the place.”
“It'll be boring here for you without Ashley around. Did you give any more thought to your great-aunts' invitation?”
“I wouldn't exactly call spending my vacation with two ninety-year-olds an âexciting' alternative,” said Chloe.
“Don't write them off just because of their age,” said her father. “Your old aunts have a lot of life left in them. They might surprise you.”
Chloe was silent for a moment as she fingered the tiny key that still sat where she'd left it on the table. “So, what do you think this key is for, anyway?” she asked.
Her father reached for the tiny key and weighed it in his hand. “It's too small to be a room key. Maybe it unlocks a small chest or a jewelry box or the lock on a journal. But who knows? Your great-aunts' house is full of mysteries.”
“Like what?”
“Like hidden rooms and secret passageways, for starters.”
“Really?” Chloe said, her eyebrows rising.
“Really,” her father replied with a grin. “Curious yet?”
Chloe felt the corners of her own mouth curl up slightly. “Maybe. Just a little.”
A week later, Chloe rose early and followed her parents out to the driveway. As she waited for her father to finish loading her luggage into the trunk of her mother's Audi, Chloe fingered the tiny golden key that she'd hung on a chain around her neck. She continued playing with it absently all the way to the airport.
