Long chapter, guys! I was sort of frustrated that I deleted everything of my earlier story when I was writing this because there were a couple of good scenes that I had forgotten I probably wanted to include with some edits. I tried my best to piece this one together but forgive me on this one. The next one will be better! I promise! Also, for those of you wondering about Nellie Bly: . was the book she wrote on traveling the world and is a really good testament to her personality. I'm going to be making plenty of references to it in the future.
The boys awoke late in the day as well-rested as one could get after the traveling of the night before. Larry decided he wanted to find Sacajawea so that they could get in and out of the museum as quickly and easily as possible.
"Important women throughout the ages," Bobby read aloud off a poster. "Leading ladies in pop culture and history."
"Or role models for your little girl," Sam shoved Bobby in the shoulder, "Let's get going! We're not going to scope the place out standing here."
"Not," Bobby warned, "so loud." His eyes bounced from guard to guard in the room.
"I'll bet that's the exhibit they wanted Sacajawea for," Nick pointed to the poster.
"Then let's go find it," Sam brushed past the others briskly.
"Amelia," Larry breathed as he caught sight of a huge red plane in the exhibit.
"There she is!" Nick pointed. Sacajawea stood in a woodland diorama across from Amelia Earhart and the Smithsonian had fitted her with a baby on her back. It hit Bobby all of a sudden that their Sacajawea had been a mother. He had known, of course, but the idea of her with a baby had never quite sunk in until he saw that basket strapped to her.
Larry made a beeline for the exhibit his old friend now stood in while the newer nightguards and his son meandered towards different women featured.
"Annie Oakley," Bobby smirked. "Would you look at that?" The sharpshooter had on a bejeweled rodeo outfit and a large hat. Her brown curls fell to her shoulders and she held a rifle casually at her side.
"Wouldn't Coco Chanel give little girls the wrong role model?" Sam shook his head. The frenchwoman had on a little black dress and a red scarf, but her shoulders were bare. Her dark hair was cropped short and pinned back and her dark brown eyes smirked at the passersby. He leaned a little closer to give her a full glance. "Pretty girl, though. I'll give her that." The group eased past a young woman in a checkered trenchcoat with a suitcase in her hand. She had a confident smirk only rivaled in self-satisfaction by the smirk on Amelia Earhart's face and Bobby gave her a sideways glance as they hurried to meet Larry. She looked like the type of forgotten face who would be interesting.
"Dad, we've got a problem." Nick nudged Larry.
"Huh?" Larry was suddenly snapped from his reverie. "What's that, Nicky?" Nick pointed at a poster advertising the other exhibit in this museum.
"Evolution of organized crime," Bobby shivered.
"Complete with Blackbeard, Jesse James, and your old pal Al Capone," Sam leered disgustedly.
"You've met Al Capone?" Nick's jaw dropped.
"Unfortunately," Larry tore himself away from Amelia's exhibit to lead the group to the crime exhibit. The featured gangs drew shudders from the guards. Each gang member had a terrifying snarl on their face. Capone had gained some substance since Larry had last encountered him; he had been fleshed out into a full-color wax figure. He and his gang stood in the back of the hall.
The first exhibit that really caught their eye was that of Blackbeard. He and his pirates were equipped with guns and swords and looked far less civil than Capone's cronies or the James-Younger gang. Jesse James and his gang were posed more melodramatically than the others. They all sat atop horses and Jesse, with a twinkle in his eye, had one pistol drawn and aimed at the crowd. The nightguards and Nick didn't pay much attention to the docents or the labels. The prospect of these people alive at night was enough to make all of them terrified of what was to come in a few hours.
"Ah! He's going to shoot us!" One of the docents mocked surprise. "Just kidding, he's a wax figure. He can't shoot us."
"I've met that girl," Larry muttered. The four made their way to the art museum. His phone buzzed. "Rebecca?" He paused. "Hold on, I'm going to find someplace quiet and put you on speaker." In the hall outside the restrooms, the four gathered around Larry's phone.
"Hi, Becca!" Sam halfway-flirted. "How are things?"
"I can't thank you enough for helping me out," Larry interrupted Sam.
"It won't be too lively without the tablet, though," Rebecca said. "Unless there's something you haven't told me."
"Nothing will be coming to life tonight, if that's what you're wondering. I still don't want anything happening on my shift, and you're being a huge help, so thank you," Larry insisted.
"Anything to help get Sacajawea back," Rebecca answered seriously. She and Sacajawea were good friends nowadays and it had pained Becca to see her go.
"We've hit a little road bump, though," Bobby said. Becca was quiet at the other end, so he continued. "The next exhibit over is one on organized crime, so when Sacajawea wakes up tonight, so will Jesse James, Blackbeard, and Al Capone."
"I've dealt with Capone before," Larry said. "Not super friendly."
"Is there anything you guys can do?" Becca asked. Larry sighed.
"We could see if there's a way to lock up that hall, but the pirates have swords and all of them have guns," Larry thought aloud.
"I'd say swords and machine guns would make it easy enough for them to break out," Sam said. "Then kill us," he added as an afterthought. As Larry wrapped up telling Becca how to run the museum in his absence, Bobby, Sam, and Nick returned to the exhibit on women.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the loudspeaker announced, "the museum will be closing in one hour." Larry joined the three others and they made their way to the Castle.
"Hey, man!" A guard hustled to meet Larry. "Long time, no see, huh?"
"Oh... you're Brandon, right?" Larry snapped his fingers, trying to remember.
"Brundon," the kid coughed. "No, no, it's okay. How are things going? Finding everything okay?"
"Um, yeah. Yeah, things are okay." Larry nodded. "You?"
"Things are great, man."
"Glad to hear it," Larry raised an eyebrow. "I was just coming to show these guys the Kahmunrah thing."
"Okay, dude," Brundon grinned, "Just don't touch it, aight?" Larry brushed past Brundon.
"Alright." Larry called over his shoulder. Staring at the door to the underworld, memories of every kind came flooding back to Larry. His hands clammed up when he thought of Jedd stuck in that hourglass and his heart thumped faster when he thought of Amelia's lips on his. All sorts of voices were vying for attention in his head. Brundon whistled behind the group.
"This thing is dangerous," Larry said. "If we want to get Sacajawea out without wrecking the museum, we've got to play moderator for the night. Capone's going to want to use this thing, I bet, and he'll want the tablet, too." He knew bringing three different crime gangs to life would lead to some sort of territorial battle between the exhibits.
"Hey, dudes," Brundon called, "I'm locking up for the night. Museum's closing now. You all want out?"
"It's an option?" Sam whispered critically to Bobby.
"Is it okay if we look around for a little longer?" Larry asked.
"No problemo," Brundon said. "I trust you, bro."
"Uh, thanks," Larry shuffled uncomfortably. There was something in Brundon's look that made all of them a little confused. He opened his mouth as though he were about to speak, but instead turned around and walked out. They heard the doors locking them in, and Sam and Bobby were suddenly impressed with Larry.
"What happened with him?" Sam asked.
"He may," Larry said, "have seen the security footage from my last visit." Bobby chuckled to himself.
"That would make sense," Bobby said, "Let's go wake up Ahk." Using Brundon's security card, the four made their way into the B-level archives. Larry nervously counted down the seconds until the whole of the archives would burst into anarchy around them. They found Ahk frozen in place somewhere near the back, in awe of Napoleon Bonaparte and his big hat and many medals.
"3... 2... 1..." Larry winced when, at one, the whole archives erupted into life around him.
"Larry Daley!" Napoleon struggled to speak as he came to life. Larry pulled Ahk along behind them.
"Yee-haw!" Echoed loudly through the archives.
"Custer," Larry groaned as the five ran.
"Dad!" Nicky took a left where Larry and the rest took a right. "This way leads to where they have Sacajawea!" Larry trusted his son since Nick had spent hours memorizing the blueprints of the sublevels. Not wasting another second, Larry, Ahk, Bobby, and Sam hurried after the middle-schooler. Their footsteps pounded up the concrete stairs and Bobby threw open the door to the museum, Sam slamming it quickly behind them.
Jesse James took a few moments to regain control of his prancing horse. "Whoa, Lucky!" He reigned it in. Capone jumped the railing that, during daytime hours, would separate him from the museum-goers.
"I'm alive," Capone thought aloud, "That means Larry Daley is here and he has that damn gold tablet!" He thought for a second longer. "Somebody go find that redheaded dame he got cozy with last time around!" He shouted. "Before I fill you with daylight! On the double, people!" Three of his cronies and a woman in a floor-length dress nodded and rushed off with machine guns in hand. The pirate king examined his new companions with a cold ferocity that made everybody in the room nervous.
"You mentioned a damned golden tablet, mate," Blackbeard pointed his sword at Capone's throat. His silver teeth flashed in the dim light. "Enlighten me."
Amelia was hit with a huge sense of disorientation as she looked around her. The last time she had been awake like this, she had been wandering the archives wiping off tears of disappointment and resigning herself to an eternity's rest. She had had the adventure of a lifetime that night, yes, but she was disappointed there hadn't been more. Now, however, she was stationed in a room filled with other women. Across from her was the Indian woman she recognized from the last time. She tilted her head in acknowledgement as she pounced from Bessie's wing to the ground and started to stroll out of the room.
If she was awake, that could only mean one thing: the tablet had returned to the Smithsonian. And if that tablet was back, Amelia hoped, that meant so was her old friend Larry. Outside the windows, Amelia could see the snow falling across the mall in flurries and frowned. How long, she wondered, had it been? And why hadn't he returned for her sooner?
"Excuse me!" A voice rang out behind her. Amelia ignored it. "Excuse me!" Amelia turned around to look at the girl. She was shorter than Amelia and had on a black-and-white trenchcoat with a traveling hat to match. Her curly brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail and the dress underneath her coat was pink. She dropped her handbag at the door as they left the vicinity of the women's hall.
"Hi, there," Amelia said.
"My name is Nellie Bly and I write for the New York World. Could I get a few questions?" The girl had shining blue eyes and a buoyant energy seemed to flood the space around her.
"No time, Miss Bly," Amelia turned around. "Gotta fly!" Amelia glanced back over her shoulder at the girl as she bounded away and the girl was smirking at the rhyme. Suddenly, the girl took off to catch up with Amelia.
"Wait!" She shouted. "Where am I?"
"The Smithsonian!" Amelia laughed wildly, tearing the hat off her head and enjoying the feeling of air rushing through her hair. She was alive!