The Vandemark Mummy by Cynthia Voigt Page A

Blatt-blatt.
    It was the phone. Up in Maine, phones didn’t ring. Instead, they blatted, like a double raspberry, blatt-blatt. It was the middle of the night, it was dark, who would call in the middle of the night? Bad news. Seriously bad news.
    Phineas stopped where he was, halfway down the stairs. His heart pounded but his feet stayed put. He wasn’t about to go down there and pick up the phone and hear what the bad news was.
    Blatt-blatt.
    He didn’t know where his mother was. He didn’t even know what time it was where she was.
    His father thudded past him, down the stairs. Blatt— “Hello . . . Dan, yes.”
    A light came on in the upstairs hallway, and Phineas could see the railing, his father’s naked back and rumpled boxers, the black telephone hunched on its table.
    â€œYou’re kidding,” Mr. Hall said. His fingers scratched at his frizzy hair. “But why would anyone?”
    Althea had stopped to put on her bathrobe over the flannel nightgown, and her slippers. The light in her room would have already been on, because Althea always slept with the light on. The switch for the hall light was right outside her door, so she’d turned it on, on her way to join Phineas, so she wouldn’t ever have to be in darkness.
    â€œNo, I’ll be right over,” their father said. Althea sat on the step beside Phineas. “I won’t be able to get back to sleep anyway,” Mr. Hall said. He turned around and saw his children watching him. “Everything’s okay,” he told them. “No, talking to my kids. Just give me a couple of minutes to get dressed. I’m glad you called me.”
    â€œWhat time—” Althea wondered.
    â€œThree,” Phineas answered without thinking. He wondered if he was right. He’d never tested his time sense in the middle of the night. Althea was the one who slept restlessly, and had bad dreams. Phineas put his head on the pillow, and was out until hunger, or the alarm, woke him.
    â€œI’ll be with you shortly,” Mr. Hall said. He hung upthe receiver and turned around. “That’s enough to give a man a cardiac arrest.”
    â€œWhat happened?” Althea asked.
    â€œI thought—” Phineas started to say.
    â€œMe too,” his father said. Then he laughed. “We could call her, to make ourselves feel better, but we’d probably wake her up, and scare her out of her wits too.”
    â€œWho was that?” Althea asked.
    â€œDan Lewis, head of security. Somebody, apparently, tried to break into room oh-fifteen. Dan said it looks like the alarms chased off whoever it was. Nothing’s been taken.”
    â€œIs he sure?”
    â€œThat’s why I’m going over.”
    â€œMe too,” Althea said. She ran up the stairs.
    â€œI’ll get my shoes,” Phineas said. He slept in his clothes, so shoes were the only thing he was missing.
    â€œThere’s no need,” his father said.
    â€œYeah but I want to,” Phineas said. He didn’t want to be left out of the excitement, if there was any.
    *  *  *
    They drove to the library and parked by the rear entrance. Mr. Hall had brought along his big flashlight, because the library lights were automatically turned off at night. A man waited in the yellow light by the door. He was a slight man, in a gray uniform that looked like a police uniform but wasn’t. He had gray hair, in a military cut, and stood with a soldier’s erectness.
    â€œPhineas, Althea—Mr. Lewis,” Mr. Hall introduced them. “Shall we take a look? The kids have worked with the collection from the start, Dan.”
    â€œWell”—he considered Althea and Phineas and made up his mind—“I guess it’s okay. I’ve been through the whole place, and it looks like he’s long gone. Come on in, Professor, kids. I’ve got the lights switched on, so you won’t need that