Felix Takes the Stage Page 6

  “I know buses, your mother knows subways,” Fatty said.

  Within the hour they had arrived at Copley Square.

  “Good gracious!” Edith sighed. “I get weak just looking at it!”

  The Boston Public Library was a magnificent building. Despite its massive size, it seemed almost to float against the pink-streaked sky. The granite looked rosy and the arcaded windows had a golden luster. There was something timeless about it, Edith thought, and though it was not the Place Where Time Has Stopped, it held her family’s future.

  “It looks like a palace,” Julep whispered.

  “It is a palace!” Edith said as they climbed the granite steps to the front entrance. “But a palace for everyone. Look up, see the inscription.”

  “‘Free to All’!” Felix read.

  Two bronze statues guarded the entrance. “Who are they?” Julep asked.

  “They are supposed to represent the arts and the sciences,” Edith replied. “And look, there is a carved head right above the words ‘Free to All.’ Do you know who that might be?”

  “Who?” Jo Bell asked.

  “Athena.”

  “The goddess from the story — the one who turned Arachne into a spider!” Julep said.

  “I hope she doesn’t turn us into humans,” Felix muttered as they skibbled through the front entrance and entered a huge vaulted space. A grand marble twin staircase faced them, with carved lions on pedestals at the first landing.

  “There are forty-two steps to the first landing. I would suggest we float some lines to ascend.”

  Fat Cat slid between the cool shadows and crouched beneath another statue. The rich beige marble of the floor and walls offered a perfect camouflage for Fatty, whose fur was almost the same color.

  The children could feel that the library was not simply a building but a world. Although Edith and her mother had lived in it for a long time, there were vast territories still unexplored. It had always been Edith’s intention to visit the rare books room with her mother, Violet. But they never did. Violet was ill and grew weaker and weaker. With her strength ebbing, she simply could not make enough silk to scale the lofty peaks to the treasure trove that contained some of the oldest and most valuable books on earth. After Violet died, Edith had no stomach for going to the rare books room alone. But now, with three youngsters, it was the perfect expedition.

  And so they began their ascent through the marble corridors, floating lines where they could to bronze statues or fixtures. They went up a final set of stairs and scuttled and skibbled down dimmer and dustier hallways until they stood in front of a set of double doors. In black letters were the words DEPARTMENT OF RARE BOOKS.

  “I’m afraid this is where we part ways,” Fatty said.

  “Not for good,” Edith replied. “I’ll explore the ventilation system for you. There must be a way in.”

  “I’ll roam around a bit. But you know, Edith —” There was something in Fatty’s voice that made chills run through every one of the family’s thirty-two legs.

  Don’t say it, Fatty. Please don’t, Edith thought.

  “You know,” Fatty continued, “I’m more of a theater creature than a library one.”

  “No, Fatty! No!” the children cried.

  “You’ve been with us forever,” Felix said.

  “You’re like a dad,” Julep whispered.

  “You’re family!” cried Jo Bell.

  “She’s right, Fatty,” Edith said. “It makes no difference that you’re a cat and we’re spiders. You are family. In time of our trials, true, in the face of fear, faithful.” They were all weeping now.

  “And I shall always be.” Fatty purred softly. “But the theater scene in Boston is good, and not far from here. I had a cousin who once played the Colonial Theatre — The Lion King, or it might have been Wicked. Not sure. I’ll come visit. This isn’t good-bye.”

  “You must let us know as soon as you have sett —” Edith caught herself before she said the word. “You must let us know which theater.” She tipped her head toward the double doors of the rare books room. “But you know where you can find us.”

  “Yes, dear Edith.”

  “I understand from my late mother that they have some very early Shakespeare texts.

  Most likely I’ll be there — sixteenth century.”

  “And you said that there are the letters and books of that magician fellow Who — whateee?”

  Felix asked. “Houdini, Felix.

  Harry Houdini.”

  “That’s where you’ll find me, Fatty. The magic shelves.”

  “They have miniature books. Mom told me. Books no more than three inches high. A nice spider-size book, that’s where I plan to be,” Jo Bell said.

  “Where will I go?” Julep asked. “Do they have a dollhouse like the one you told us about in the kindergarten room at the Martin Luther King Jr. Elementary School?”

  Edith turned to her youngest. Her eyes gleamed. “They have something much better than a dollhouse.”

  “What?” Julep jumped up and down, so excited that she released a dragline.

  “Pop-up books!”

  “Pop-up books? What are those?”

  “Books with movable parts. Some slide, some flip up or flap down — it’s a whole tiny world in one book. There’s a circus one. One has a ship on a sea with moving waves and sails. My mother — your grandma Violet — told me all about them. They have some of the oldest and best pop-up books in the world. And they still work!”

  “Oh, wow!” the children all clamored.

  “I want to go there!” Jo Bell said.

  “Me, too!” Felix shouted.

  “Mom, you said pop-ups are for me,” Julep protested.

  “There is plenty of room for all of you.”

  She turned to Fatty. “There’s even one with a stage — the Globe Theatre. It’s just paper. Make-believe,” she said with a slight tremor in her voice.

  Fatty crouched down so that he was very close to his dear friend.

  “It’s all make-believe, Edith.”

  And so Edith and her three children crept under the crack of the door and entered the rare books room of the Boston Public Library. They saw a man at a desk. Around his forehead was a band with a small light on it. He held a threaded needle in his hand and was bent over the pages of an ancient manuscript, which he appeared to be sewing together. There was a nutty odor of glue and wood swirling through the air, and just a tinge of mold. The man looked up from his work and peered in their direction.

  “Freeze!” Edith commanded. The man peered harder. Edith was sure that he saw them, but he did not seem frightened. Not at all.

  Then the most extraordinary thing happened. The man stood up and walked over to them. He bent down, and Edith’s head swirled with confusion. Was he going to stomp on them? They couldn’t scuttle away fast enough! She saw Felix float a line up to the rung of a desk chair.

  “Welcome!” the man said. “I am so glad to see you. They tell me that book lice are quite tasty — tasty from a spider’s point of view. There are plenty here. They eat paper. You will be doing a great service to the rare books collection if you would indulge yourself.”

  “Mom, what does he mean ‘indulge’?” Julep whispered.

  “Eat?” Jo Bell asked.

  “You mean he’s letting us stay?” Felix asked.

  “He’s not frightened at all. Isn’t this lovely, children?”

  “Is this the Place Where Time Has Stopped?” Julep asked.

  “No, but I think we’re getting closer,” Edith said. “I think we can settle.”

  And so they did.

  As I’m sure you know, real spiders don’t use words to talk. Nor do they read, nor do they wear hats as in Stephen Gilpin’s wonderful illustrations. But here are a few things that are true about brown recluse spiders and the other animals that appear in this book.

  Spiders have multiple eyes — usually eight (except for brown recluses and their relatives, which have only s
ix). In spite of all these eyes, most spiders do not see well.

  Spiders DO receive a lot of information through their ability to pick up vibrations. The tiny hairs on their legs work like motion detectors and alert them to the smallest movements.

  Spider blood is clear, with a bluish tint. This is because spider blood, unlike human blood, contains copper.

  Brown recluse spiderwebs look slightly blue.

  Spiders can regrow lost legs if they are still fairly young.

  Spider silk is much stronger than any rope or even steel cable that humans make.

  Pirate spiders, or Mimetidea, do eat other spiders.

  There really was a theater cat known as Boy Cat. He really did jump into the lap of the late Princess Margaret of England and eat the bouquet she was holding.

  There really was an infestation of hobo spiders, or Tegenaria agrestis, in the Pacific Northwest in the late 1980s.

  Finally, it’s true that brown recluse spiders, like Edith and her three children, are very shy. But they can be very dangerous if they do bite. Their venom is toxic and causes necrotic wounds, which means that their bite causes human flesh to die. In some cases, brown recluse spider bites can be fatal. So enjoy reading about brown recluse spiders, but please — DON’T PLAY WITH THEM!

  The author gratefully acknowledges Dr. Greta Binford, Professor of Biology at Lewis & Clark College, for her help with the spider research in this book.

  This book was originally published in hardcover by Scholastic Press in 2010.

  Copyright © 2010 by Kathryn Lasky

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc.

  SCHOLASTIC, APPLE PAPERBACKS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  First Scholastic paperback printing, May 2010

  Cover art © by Stephen Gilpin

  Cover design by Lillie Howard

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-30581-5

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.