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

know what’s going to happen.”
    Mr. Custos relaxed with a sigh. He wiped a spot of toothpaste foam from the side of his mouth. “Thank you, Granny. You know, the next logical option, of course, is Chicago.”
    Claudia perked up. “The Art Institute of Chicago!” Her parents took her there on occasion, when they got tired of her begging, and she was always anxious to return. “That would work.”
    Mr. Custos began wagging his toothbrush again. “As a matter of fact, the director of the AIC once came to pay me a visit and take a look at our collection. He told me that—”
    â€œSal,” interrupted Granny Custos with a flick of her fingers. “Zoot, zoot.”
    â€œAh … Right. Good night, then.” Mr. Custos returned the way he had come. The water running in the kitchen turned off and then a door closed somewhere in the back of the house.
    Pim nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, the Art Institute of Chicago will be perfect.”
    â€œGood, good!” crowed Granny Custos. “Go. Go now!”
    â€œNow?” Claudia asked. “But it’s eight thirty at night. The museum’s already closed. And it’s downtown.”
    â€œSmall obstacles for a girl taking on Nee Gezicht,” the old woman replied. She struggled to her feet, leaning hard on the table. Once she found her balance, she twisted up all of the loose strands of hair back into her bun. Then she removed the pipe from her mouth and stuck it into the bun to hold it in place.
    â€œPerhaps you’re right,” she continued. “My bones are old. Time for bed. You’ll find the door, and your grandfather, I suppose, where you left them.” Granny Custos pulled her bulky shawl tighter around herself as she headed down the hallway. She paused for just a moment to turn and say, “Break the staff. Break the curse. Break Nee Gezicht. Buona fortuna .”
    Claudia watched her disappear down the hallway, wondering if Granny Custos always dismissed her guests like that. She wondered if she should shout a thank-you after the old woman. She looked at the tray of scattered ingredients and the goopy blender. She looked at the yellow mustard bottle in her hands. She looked at the boy in the painting. And she wondered what in the world had she gotten herself into.

 
    C HAPTER 7
    â€œT HREE PAIRS of underwear? Mom, I’ll be gone for two nights.”
    â€œUnderwear is one thing in life you can never overestimate, sweetheart.” Claudia’s mom stuffed the underwear next to the other clothes in her backpack.
    â€œOkay. Sure. Great. I think I probably have everything now.” Claudia pulled the zipper over the bulges.
    â€œOne more thing.” Her mom grabbed the set of twenty-four colors of nail polish complete with a bonus bottle of nail polish remover and handed it to Claudia. “Take it with you. At least pretend to like your aunt’s present when you visit her.”
    Claudia rolled her eyes. She had never been a schemer. A visit to Aunt Maggie was the best she could come up with during the late—way too late—hours of the night, but it wasn’t a bad bit of scheming. She could make it to the Art Institute downtown without her parents and she would have several days to get in, get it done, and get out. (The details of that part were still a little fuzzy.)
    It had taken some sweet-talking to convince her mom to let her spend the long weekend with “that sister-in-law.” But in the end, in her mom’s eyes it was better than Claudia’s sitting alone in the library or the art museum. Claudia had called Aunt Maggie that morning, and the express bus to downtown Chicago left at noon—in less than an hour.
    Claudia looked at the nail polish. “Do I have to take it?”
    â€œOf course you do. Besides, you’ll probably need it. All twenty-four colors. If there’s anyone who knows how to turn things into a party,