Great-Aunt Maisie’s Orders

“How did that happen?” Maisie said, looking around as if to be sure they really were back.

Felix, just as surprised as his sister, shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“I gave him the coin—”

“And then we talked about the divorce and stuff—”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Maisie said.

Felix agreed. “There’s something that happens that we’re not figuring out yet. And that something is what brings us back home.”

“I wish I had the chance to say good-bye to Alexander,” Maisie said sadly.

“Me too,” Felix said. “Even though he got mad at us for following him, I really liked him.”

“So did I,” Maisie said.

She blushed, but Felix decided not to tease her about it.

“Hey!” he said. “Let’s try to find out what he did with that coin.”

“How?” Without Internet they couldn’t find out anything, Maisie thought for about the millionth time.

“The encyclopedia!” Felix said.

They walked out of The Treasure Chest, being careful to slide the wall back into place. Down the Grand Staircase, past the photograph of young Great-Aunt Maisie and Great-Uncle Thorne, into the Grand Ballroom.

“I think we’re done with The Treasure Chest,” Maisie said, pausing on the marble floor.

“Agreed,” Felix said, relieved.

“I really started to wonder if we would ever get back,” Maisie said as they walked through the Dining Room.

“I was worried,” Felix admitted. “And unless we figure out how we get back each time, there’s a good chance we might really get stuck in the past.”

“And what would Mom do without us?” Maisie asked. “Alexander was right. We can’t change anything. I guess maybe I have to try to be a little bit nicer.”

“You’re nice,” Felix said softly. “You’re just sad.”

Maisie turned to her brother. “Yes,” she said. “But so are you.”

“Well, we have each other,” he said.

Maisie and Felix hugged each other good and tight. When they separated, Maisie said, “Who would ever believe that we time traveled?”

Felix laughed. “I hardly believe it myself.”

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Back in their apartment, Felix found the F–J encyclopedia and opened it to H.

Sure enough, there he was. ALEXANDER HAMILTON.

“You read it,” Maisie said.

Felix laughed. “Well, I see why that coin was important,” he said. “First secretary of the treasury . . . created the American banking system . . . invented the modern corporation . . . Aide-de-Camp to George Washington—”

“Wow!” Maisie said.

“He graduated from King’s College,” Felix said, reading more. “Which is today’s Columbia University.”

“And where his friend Neddy went,” Maisie said.

“He really turned into someone important,” Felix said, closing the encyclopedia. “His picture’s on the ten-dollar bill.”

“No way!” Maisie said.

Felix nodded.

“And,” he added, grinning at his sister, “he didn’t marry Catherine Livingston.”

“Really?” Maisie said, delighted. Then she composed herself. “Who cares, anyway? Not me.”

“Me neither,” Felix said. “Just a small detail.”

Maisie smiled. “Thanks, bro,” she said.

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On Sunday, their mother announced that they were going to visit Great-Aunt Maisie and have lunch with her. They stopped at the little bakery on Thames Street that made French macaroons in pale shades of green and pink and yellow and bought a dozen for her. Great-Aunt Maisie thought that American macaroons, the dense balls of condensed milk and coconut topped with a bright red cherry, were barbaric.

At the Island Retirement Center, they passed through the solarium and into the wing where Great-Aunt Maisie lived.

Ahead of them, they watched a patient dressed in a black-and-white skirt and jacket walking slowly down the hall with the help of a walker. Something about the woman seemed oddly familiar. The fancy suit. The bobbed gray hair.

“Wait a minute!” Maisie shouted. “That’s Great-Aunt Maisie!”

At the sound of her name, Great-Aunt Maisie stopped walking and turned around. As usual, she had her face powdered and the two pink spots of rouge on each cheekbone. Her lips wore their usual Chanel Red lipstick. Despite that, something about Great-Aunt Maisie was completely different. Yes, she was actually walking, which Maisie had not seen her do since they’d moved here. But it was more than that. She looked . . . Maisie struggled for the word . . . alive!

“Hello!” Great-Aunt Maisie called to them. She waved one hand like she was a queen.

“Great-Aunt Maisie!” their mother gasped, hurrying toward her. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

“Going to lunch,” Great-Aunt Maisie said. “It’s almost noon.”

“But . . . but . . . you’re walking!” their mother sputtered.

Great-Aunt Maisie looked pleased. “Yes, Jennifer,” she said, “I am. Now, would you like to join me for some of the poor excuse for food that they serve here? I believe they have chowder today. New England clam chowder.”

With that, she returned to her slow but steady walk down the corridor.

“Go help her,” their mother said, nudging first Felix and then Maisie toward their aunt. “I’ve got to find a nurse.”

Maisie and Felix scurried after Great-Aunt Maisie, catching up to her quickly.

“How did you get so much better?” Maisie said.

Great-Aunt Maisie paused. She lifted her eyes until they met Maisie’s straight on.

“A very good question, dear,” she said.

With that, she continued on.

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By the time their mother joined them in the dining room, Great-Aunt Maisie had already ordered and sent back one cup of clam chowder because she found it wasn’t hot enough. Maisie had a grilled cheese on a plate in front of her and Felix had a hot dog.

“It is New England clam chowder,” Great-Aunt Maisie said as soon as their mother sat down, “but it’s lukewarm.”

Their mother looked completely flustered.

“No one can explain why you were able to get up from your chair yesterday and walk for the first time in six months,” she said. “Everyone is baffled.”

Great-Aunt Maisie’s blue eyes twinkled. “Doctors,” she said. “What do they know about anything?”

The waitress appeared with another bowl of chowder and placed it in front of Great-Aunt Maisie.

Great-Aunt Maisie frowned.

“What’s wrong now?” the waitress asked.

“Why, it’s too hot!”

“How do you know? You haven’t tried it yet,” the waitress said.

“I can tell. Look at the steam coming from it.”

She started to remove the bowl, but Great-Aunt Maisie shooed her away. “Well, it will cool eventually, won’t it?” she said.

After the waitress left, their mother whispered, “You must be nicer to the staff here.”

“All I want is a bowl of New England clam chowder that I can eat,” Great-Aunt Maisie said.

She took a spoonful and blew on it. The three of them watched her and then looked at one another.

“Your hand is so steady,” their mother said.

“Mmmm,” Great-Aunt Maisie said.

They watched as she ate that spoonful and another.

“Instead of staring at me, Jennifer, why don’t you go and order some lunch?” Great-Aunt Maisie said.

Their mother mumbled, “All right,” and went to put in her order.

Great-Aunt Maisie put the spoon down and smiled at Maisie and Felix.

“Well,” she said, “how have you two been?”

Maisie blurted, “Oh, Great-Aunt Maisie! We’ve had the most wonderful adventure!”

“Yes?” she said eagerly.

“We stowed away on a ship,” Maisie said.

“And we took a stagecoach from Boston to New York—” Felix added.

“And New York looked so different we could hardly find our way around,” Maisie said.

Great-Aunt Maisie clapped her hands in delight.

“Tell me, children, who was it you met?” she asked.

“Alexander Hamilton,” Maisie said.

“Oh! That is a good one!” Great-Aunt Maisie said. “Bravo!”

“Great-Aunt Maisie,” Felix said, looking around to be sure no one could hear him. “Did you do this, too? You and Thorne?”

At the sound of her brother’s name, Great-Aunt Maisie’s eyes darkened.

“Thorne,” she said. “Don’t say his name in my presence. That rascal! That—”

“Are you two upsetting Great-Aunt Maisie?” their mother said, sitting down.

Maisie shook her head.

“They were just telling me about their lovely weekend,” Great-Aunt Maisie said. She took another spoonful of chowder. “Oh, dear,” she said to their mother, “they forgot to bring me those little oyster crackers I like so much with my chowder. Would you find some for me?”

“Sure,” their mother said, forcing a smile.

As soon as she walked off, Great-Aunt Maisie leaned toward them.

“My guess,” Great-Aunt Maisie said in a low voice, “is that he’s in London. At least he was last time I heard.”

“When was that?” Felix asked.

“1941,” Great-Aunt Maisie said.

“That was, like, seventy years ago!” Maisie said.

“Was it?” Great-Aunt Maisie said. “My, time flies.”

She closed her eyes, and for a moment they thought she had fallen asleep. But then she murmured, “Alexander Hamilton.”

Great-Aunt Maisie opened her eyes again and said with a sigh, “I never got to meet him. I bet he was brilliant.”

“Yes, he was,” Maisie said.

“Anyone who wrote The Federalist Papers would have to be brilliant. And confident—”

“Yes,” Maisie agreed.

Great-Aunt Maisie smiled and nodded. “Was he very handsome?”

“He’s, like, five seven,” Felix said at the exact same time that Maisie gushed, “Oh, very handsome!”

“A small man!” Great-Aunt Maisie said. “Hmm. I actually like a small man.”

“Great-Aunt Maisie!” their mother said, appearing at the table with two packages of oyster crackers. “Are you telling them about old boyfriends?”

“Not at all,” Great-Aunt Maisie said. “We’re discussing Alexander Hamilton.”

Their mother thought a moment. “I know he’s on money. The ten? The twenty?”

“He was the first secretary of the treasury,” Felix said. “That’s why.”

Their mother looked at them, surprised. “Well, I guess the Anne Hutchinson Elementary School is teaching you quite a bit already.”

“Did they have pudding?” Great-Aunt Maisie asked their mother.

Maisie and Felix could tell their mother’s patience was running thin.

“Yes,” she said evenly.

“Butterscotch?” Great-Aunt Maisie asked.

“Why don’t I go check?” their mother said, getting up again.

“When do you think you’ll go again?” Great-Aunt Maisie asked as soon as she was out of earshot.

“Oh,” Felix said quickly, “we’re not going to go again.”

“What?” Great-Aunt Maisie said, her back stiffening.

“We almost didn’t get back this time,” Maisie said. “Alexander kept trying to ditch us, and we had to sleep on a beach and—”

“But you must go back,” Great-Aunt Maisie said.

“Really, Great-Aunt Maisie,” Maisie said. “We agreed. No more.”

Their mother was approaching again with a small dish of butterscotch pudding.

“You don’t understand,” Great-Aunt Maisie said firmly. “You must go back again. You must go to The Treasure Chest and travel in time.”

“Butterscotch!” their mother said triumphantly.

Great-Aunt Maisie slowly got to her feet. “I’ve lost my appetite,” she said.

“Let me help you,” their mother said, taking her elbow.

But Great-Aunt Maisie wouldn’t let her hold on.

“Only the children can help me,” she said, leveling her gaze at Maisie and Felix. “You will, won’t you, children?”

Felix turned to Maisie. She chewed her bottom lip as she thought. Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths until Maisie nodded.

“Felix?” Great-Aunt Maisie said.

Felix nodded, too.

“Wonderful!” Great-Aunt Maisie said, sitting back down. “I think I will have a taste of this.” She dug a spoon into the pudding and took a bite.

Maisie and Felix looked at each other. It seemed they would go back to The Treasure Chest again after all.