Tintin dragged his tired feet and gave a loud yawn as he made his way up the stairs of Marlinspike, Captain Haddock's mansion. He went by the fridge to grab a note from Nestor, the butler. It read:
Master Haddock and Calculus,
I have an important errand to take care of and I will be back later on tonight. Dinner will be made when I return or it shall be made by Maybelline. Good day.
"Maybelline..?" Tintin asked himself.
He glanced over at the counter and noticed plates with their lids over them sitting next to a bottle of dinner wine. Lifting up one of the tops, he saw cooked salmon and…an awkward yellow cake of some sort. It was still warm so maybe Nestor…or this "Maybelline" person had just finished preparing it. Without giving it much thought because of his exhaustion, he shrugged it off and decided he was more exhausted than he was hungry. He didn't really get much rest on the plane since he spent his time staying up reading his books. Apparently no was home, they had the large, gothic mansion to themselves. This idea had put Tintin's over-worked mind at ease for once.
"It's been a looong trip, pal," he said lazily, stopping at his door to his room. Snowy yawned in response and rested his head on his front paws. Tintin laughed at the cute sight of his sleepy friend.
"How about a nice late evening nap, just you and me, huh boy?"
Opening the door, he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widened.
"Great snakes…" he said astonished, stepping inside slowly. His room was so neat and tidy he thought it would sparkle. The floor for once was visible, his brown loveseat as a gift from a friend in Germany was straightened neatly, the books were placed in alphabetical order on the bookshelf, and the surfaces of his desk and dresser were spotless.
It couldn't have been the butler…could it? Tintin didn't recall the other rooms he passed by just now this clean. He laughed nervously. Haha…no…it wasn't a thief. I mean, what thief cleans?
Snowy sniffed the lemon-scented air and did a concerned bark; Tintin looked at him. "What is it, Snow—?"
He stopped speaking when he heard humming and quickly spun around. A young African woman wearing a maid gown and a stained apron entered the room, pushing a vacuum in front of her. Her curly afro was pulled back by a white handkerchief, though messy strands were escaping. She noticed Tintin and Snowy before giving them a white, toothy smile, revealing a small gap. They stood frozen in bewilderment, not returning the kind greeting.
"Oh, you're home? I was wonderin' where you was at, gone fo' three days and all…. Master Haddock was worried 'bout you." she said, wrapping the cord of the vacuum up.
After standing around, lost for words, Tintin finally asked, "Excuse me…may I ask what in heaven's name are you doing here?" He didn't mean to sound rude but it was really hard to not in the confused state that he was.
The woman simply smiled again and answered, "I'm the new maid here, sir. My name is Maybelline. Your room looked like a typhoon storm came in to visit so I decided to go 'head and clean it after I made dinner like asked."
So this is Maybelline…Tintin thought. He was in debate in his mind to be offended or grateful by the stranger for cleaning his room. It was a horrid mess but he really had intended on fixing it up when he returned home. Aside from that, what did they need another servant for?
Looking back and forth between her and Snowy, Tintin said, "Um…Ms. Maybelline—,"
"You can call me 'Maple', monsieur," the maid chirped cheerfully, waving a finger playfully at him, "there's no need to be polite!"
Tintin tilted his head. "Ok…Maple…yes…might I ask why you decided to make an occupation here? I appreciate that you cleaned and cooked but we really don't need another servant, I believe—"
Maple's face suddenly looked shocked, which made him stop mid-sentence. She let go of the vacuum and clasped her hands together as if she were praying. "I know! I know! It's just that… it's the only job I can get here at the moment. They won't hire me no where else so Nestor took me in..."
She gazed down at the floor then back at Tintin. Her face went serious and with a determined voice she said, "Please, just let me work here; I won't be a problem! I clean and cook real good, I promise I won't complain! I'm a hard-worker and Master Haddock and Calculus said I'll be fine as long as 's okay with you. And I'll be around longer than Nestor when ya'll get older…so he's trainin' me…so…and…—!"
Tintin held up his hands in a motion for her to calm down. She silenced herself and looked at him with a quiet expression. Snowy joined her distress by whimpering and hiding behind Tintin's legs.
"Whoa, easy, easy!" he said, surprised with her outburst. "Great snakes, Maple, I didn't mean to make you rise up in such of fuss!"
"Sorry…," Maple replied sheepishly.
Tintin let her information sink in. He couldn't just let her roam around without a job. And deep inside he knew why she wasn't being accepted into other jobs. The thought of people acting nasty towards others different from them made his gut turn. Of course he can't say no, it wouldn't be gentleman-like of him.
Nodding, he said, "Well…if it's the only place you can work…I don't have a problem—wait!"
He whirled around and darted his eyes around his room and glanced back at Maple as she cheered and did a happy dance.
"Did you go through my things?"
She paused and did a failed attempt of having a serious face.
"No."
Tintin cocked up an eyebrow. Maple groaned in defeat and pulled out a newspaper from behind her back.
"Okay, okay, I found your pistol, buh I didn't touch it! And I kinda' took a peek at this newspaper."
Tintin sighed with relief and rubbed his forehead with his finger and thumb.
As she scratched her head with an embarrassed grin, he looked up and did his habit of studying features of her face. Despite how her African race was portrayed in drawings, she was very pretty.
Tintin should be used to this kind of crazy but could this same week be anymore crazy?
He stood there and listened as Maple rambled on about how gorgeous the mansion was and where she stayed at with her grandmother. His sleepy eyes twitched in annoyance and started to zone out in space at the wall behind her. He could literally feel the dark circles form around his eyes from the lack of sleep.
So much for having the house to himself and Snowy….
"What's yer name, by the way?" she asked, snapping him back into reality.
"You…you don't know my name?" Tintin asked. He kind of expected her to know him since he's well-known throughout Belgium. It would probably get her into trouble since he figured she would get herself into such a situation if she found out what his alias was.
Maple threw her hands on her hips, cocking her head to the side.
"No, suh. I can't say I know so. Wait. You do look kinda' familiar, though. Buh I never caught your name. All I heard the old man say was, 'Thunderin' typhoons, blisterin' barnacles, where is that boy?"
Tintin chuckled on the inside at her funny attempt at mocking the captain.
"My name is Tintin."
He watched her as she scratched her head deep in thought but then said, "Nope. Don't ring a bell. What kinda' name is that anyway? Is that a pet name from ya girlfriend?"
Tintin shot her a glare. "No."
"Your club name? To go to the saloons? Like when they got them secret code names?" she giggled, enjoying at poking fun at the boy.
"No!" he snapped, irritated now.
He sighed again, grumpily and waved his hand for her to leave; all he wanted was his nap.
"Maple, it is a great pleasure of meeting you, but may I please have my rest now…?" he asked, his eyes half-lidded.
She stopped and put her hand over her mouth. "Ooooooh!" she said, understandingly, "Sorry, sorry, hee-hee."
She quietly slid out the door and disappeared into the hall, dragging the vacuum behind her. Tintin placed the small trunk on his desk next to his globe and typewriter and collapsed onto his bed while Snowy happily found a spot next to him under the cover. They both nearly sprang out of bed when the sound of the vacuum went crashing down the steps.
"Sooorrrrrryyyyy~!" sang a voice downstairs, which made Tintin and Snowy growl through gritted teeth and pulled the pillow over their heads.
Little did they know, Maple did sort of peek around more than she said she did. "He's not just some ordinary boy…," she said curiously to herself as she swept the leaves off the front porch. "Maybelline's gonna' find out what he's hidin', yeeeees ma'am."
Ahead of her down the steps in the courtyard, she saw two mysterious men whispering to each other by the fountain. As nosy as she was, she tried turning on her good listening ears and peered suspiciously at them. When they noticed her stare, they grew quiet and looked at her. She raised an eyebrow and was about to ask did they need to see someone until she heard a voice say,
"Confounded, Maple, what are you doing standing around in the cold with your mouth wide open like a catfish on a hook? It's gettin' dark!"
Maple blinked then quickly twisted around and held the broom up in defense, only to find that the gruff voice belonged to Captain Haddock. Behind him stood Professor Calculus; he tipped his brown hat to her and smiled his ingenious smile. Captain jumped back, holding his hands up to keep the straw of the broom from smacking his smoke pipe out his mouth. "Wha-what? Have you lost your bloomin' mind, lassie?" he grumbled, shaking his fists in the air angrily. Maple acknowledged her reflex and hid the broom behind her back. She saluted jokingly, "Sorry, Captain, sir!" she shouted. Prof. Calculus fiddled with his hearing aid and said, "My, my, you're quite the busy bee…do we have visitors today?" Maple peered behind them to see if the two men were still there, but they had disappeared.
"Well…actually, Master Tantan came home," she pronounced his name incorrectly; "I'm glad I fixed his shipwreck room before he came back too."
Captain's face lit up like a lighthouse in a storm at sea, "Ah! The young lad is back!"
"Yes, but don't bother him, he's sl—"
Before she could finish, Captain was already racing into the house. "TINTIIIN!"
Prof. Calculus and Maple watched him go. As she stood there, amazed at how fast he went, the crazy professor asked, "Maple. What was it that you were so excited about supper you wanted to show me, hmmm?"
"Oh, that," Maple said, shaking her head, "it's all ready for you in the kitchen. Here, I'll have you hat and cane."
She allowed Prof. Calculus to go ahead inside so she could take one more last look around for the mysterious figures before closing the door.
"Avast me shiiip, Tintin!"
There was a slight groan of tiredness from under the journalist's blankets and pillow. Snowy whined along with him.
"It's the captain…," Tintin mumbled, sitting up from under his sleep domain, "will I ever get some sleep…?"
Snowy jumped and scurried under Tintin, making him nearly hit the ceiling when the captain slammed open the door. He felt the dog's claws scratch nervously into his back.
"O-ouch, Snowy! Cut it out!"
"Billions of blue blistering barbecued barnacles, Tintin!" the captain scolded in his colorful language as he stormed into the boy's room by his bed. The retired sailor always seemed like he was going to have high blood pressure and a heart attack when he felt Tintin was always away for too long or was doing something too dangerous. He cared for him too much like a son of his own since they first became close for anything bad happening to him.
"Captain," Tintin yawned, rubbing his eye, "what is it that's bothering you now? Can it not wait until tomorrow?"
The older man huffed, tapping his foot on the floor, and said, "Gone for three days! I thought you done went and became another trophy of those deranged baboons that were doin' all of those killings!"
How typical of Haddock to watch the news, looking after him. Tintin of course knew he was going to overexaggerate and panic, thus lead him to return home early instead of staying and searching for more clues. His mouth sort of did went dry at the thought of his throat being slit and his body being left off somewhere with those numbers carved into his flesh. Imagine of how crazy captain really would have been.
Rubbing his neck, he smiled at his best friend and shrugged it off.
"Ah…yes, I've encountered death face to face multiple times, my friend. You should be used this by now," he said. Captain grumbled in response at his comment.
"Aye. But I can't help but think you're not going to be able to escape the net one day, boy," he admitted.
Tintin grinned and then he remembered the chest he had brought. With him suddenly full of energy, he threw off the cover and hopped out of bed. "Captain! Come over here. I want you to look at this," he said, making his way over to his desk. The dark haired man followed Tintin with Snowy trailing behind him and stopped to look at the brown chest he was presenting to him. Shaking his head, he face-palmed and groaned, "Oooooh oh, what have you got now?"
"It's a chest," answered Tintin as he roamed the drawers of his desk, "Those murderers over in Paris. I broke into their hideout and stole it from them. There must be something special inside but it sounded empty when I shook it. Oh blast! Where did she put my magnifying glass?"
"By thunder, Tintin!" exclaimed Captain Haddock, "We agreed that you won't go doing any suicide missions! You were 'interviewing', remember? That's what reporters do! And they leave the dangerous stuff to the police!"
"Yes, yes, I know, captain, but I simply couldn't ignore it! All those people dying—Aha!"—Tintin grabbed his magnifying glass out the bottom drawer—"I can't let that continue any longer!"
"I can understand that, but you can't save everyone, laddie!"
Snowy climbed onto the surface of the desk and sniffed the trunk. He lifted his head up and growled lowly. Tintin shooed him away with his hand, "Down, Snowy!"
The small companion obeyed and jumped to the floor, still eyeing the trunk growling. Tintin peered at him as he pulled the skull trinket out his pocket.
"What's eatin' him?" Captain asked.
Tintin ignored him and held the magnifying glass over his evidence, examining the dials on the side. The captain looked over his shoulder, interested in the item. Tintin kept scrolling the numbers around with his thumb carefully, just to see if something would happen or to see if there was really a point in them being there at all.
"What is the stupid thing for?" Haddock finally asked impatiently after a minute went by.
"I don't quite know exactly…," Tintin answered, focused on the device in his fingers, "I took it from the leader of the men that chased me. I think it could be—,"
Both he and the captain flinched back when the object made a loud click and two peculiar spikes popped out the side of it. "A key!" Tintin shouted excitedly, "Eureka! I knew it!"
"Nice work, Tintin!" the captain said, joining his excitement and gave him a slap on the back. They looked to see that the numbers on the dials had landed on "1" and "7."
"17?" they asked in unison. Snowy looked behind him and ran to the window, growling and barking. Haddock and Tintin were too intrigued with their discover to pay no attention.
"At last…," Tintin said, slowly entering the key into the lock, "we can find out what's inside!"
Captain leaned in, anticipating in the secret as well.
Before he could turn it, there was a loud thump on the ceiling and the lights flickered. Everyone looked up then at each other. Snowy barked loudly and dashed out the room.
"Snowy? Snowy!" Tintin called before he and Haddock darted after him. There was then a loud sound of shattering.
"I say! My dear Maple! May I ask what this dish is called? I've never had such a treat!" Prof. Calculus exclaimed, fixing his spectacles over his meal.
Maple was too busy infatuated with the ceiling, distracted by Snowy's barking. She also heard the noise and wondered what it was. Professor Calculus was too into his supper to even notice the flicker of the lights. His hearing aid was probably not fixed properly to hear the racket either. Maple then returned from her trance, slightly embarrassed.
"EH? It's um, nothin'. Just poached salmon and cornbread, sir."
She glanced back up nervously when she heard the frantic barking cease. What's goin' on up there…?
"It is very delicious! Very fine work!"
"Thank you, Master Calculus. Really. You too kind."
Maple's heart jumped when she heard Snowy bark once more and she glanced up again. Suddenly the lights shut off. She gulped hard and felt her heart pound faster when she heard loud thumps in the pitch black.
"Oh dear," Prof. Calculus said, not too phased with the dark moment, "Perhaps we blew a fuse. Poor Snowy must be frightened."
Maple's hand reached behind her for the frying pan off the stove.
"Or maybe it's something else…," she said shakily under her breath. She clenched the frying pan into her hand.
"I'm sure Tintin is fixing the electricity," the professor continued on, sipping his glass.
"Of course…," Maple said to herself. Her face went stern. "Don't worry, Professor," she said, "I'll protect you."
"No, no, I don't need any fondue, thank you," replied Prof. Calculus. Maple gave him an awkward look and then ran off.
