Read Online Behind the Canvas by Alexander Vance - Free Book Online Page A

.”
    Claudia nibbled at her thumbnail. She stood up from her chair and paced absentmindedly.
    â€œForget about it, Claudia,” said Pim. “I’m not going to let you do it.”
    What if the witch cursed her and she ended up like Pim? What would a hundred years in that world be like? Of course, he’d suffered much longer than that. He was still suffering.
    The task seemed clear enough. From there to the world behind the canvas, to the Netherlands, and back again. If they could get the staff and bring it back, Granny Custos could help them break it.
    â€œIf we did this, would you be with me the whole way?” she asked Pim.
    â€œI … of course. But I’m not going to let you come here.”
    He would be with her. He would lead the way. With his help, she could do this. She could do this for him.
    Her friend.
    She picked up the painting and looked into Pim’s crystal-blue eyes. “If you promise to lead the way, I’ll do it.”
    He shook his head. “I can’t let you—”
    â€œBut I want to, Pim. I can help you, and I want to help you.”
    He stared at her, eyes wide and a hint of a smile on his lips. “Are you sure?” whispered Pim.
    Claudia smiled and slowly nodded. “We’ll get you out. We’ll do it together.”
    Pim tossed his head back and laughed in surprise and relief. His eyes shone. “All right, then. Together.”
    â€œSo…” she breathed out. “We’re going to need a painting. Can we use this one?” she asked, turning to Granny Custos.
    Granny Custos wagged a finger. “Too small. You have your grandfather’s head. Would get stuck in the frame.”
    â€œGee, thanks.” Claudia smoothed down her hair self-consciously.
    â€œDo you have any paintings here?” Pim asked Granny Custos.
    The old woman sat with closed eyes, arms folded within her shawls. She shook her head.
    â€œAn artist-magician like yourself and you don’t have any paintings in your house?” Claudia said.
    Granny Custos didn’t open her eyes but smiled with the pipe protruding from her teeth. “Also a story for another time.”
    From the kitchen came the sound of running water and some sort of scrubbing.
    â€œIt can’t be just any painting, anyway,” Pim said. “The wrong painting will put us on the other side of the world behind the canvas, so to speak. We need one that places us close to the window into Nee Gezicht’s house.”
    â€œOkay. Right.” Claudia said. “We need options. What about the Florence museum?”
    Pim nodded thoughtfully. “It has a lot of paintings. We’d at least have choices.”
    Hurried footsteps rushed from the kitchen and Mr. Custos burst into the dining room. His blue flannel pajamas—which looked as though they had been ironed—were complemented by fuzzy orange slippers. Claudia hid a smile behind her hand as he whipped a toothbrush out of his mouth and pointed it at the three of them.
    â€œNo, absolutely not. Not in the museum. I run a serious academic institution, not a springboard for adventurous philanthropy and vendettas. I’m sorry, kids. The world behind the canvas can be a fun place for a field trip and all, but with the”—he gestured toward the mustard bottle with his toothbrush—“the magic sludge, you never know what’s going to happen. I mean, they’re valuable paintings, for crying out loud!”
    Claudia opened her mouth to ask what he meant about the magic sludge, but he bulldozed forward.
    â€œGranny, you remember the Leonardo paintings, right?” He opened his arms pleadingly toward Granny Custos. “The lost Leonardos? 10 Don’t you remember what you promised me after that?”
    Granny Custos scratched her nose and then shrugged. “We need another museum,” she said to Claudia, who was still worried about what Mr. Custos meant by “you never