Previous chapters of the River Road story:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

How should the story continue? Voting is open on the current chapter!

Last time, Mia Duomo, Mrs. DeLorca and Mr. DeLorca followed the footprints left behind by the person who had left the frightening painting in the hallway of the museum’s upstairs galleries. The tracks had been left by high-heeled shoes by a famous designer which Mia recognized immediately. The woman—or women—who had left the tracks had walked through white paint. Mrs. DeLorca explained that the paint must have been tracked from the west gallery which was being repainted in preparation for an exhibit of work by an up-and-coming painter named Vivian Crane. Following the tracks to the darkened west gallery, Mrs. DeLorca heard the clip-clap of high-heeled shoes and suddenly ran off in the direction of the noise before Mr. DeLorca could find a way to turn on the lights! Meanwhile, downstairs in the museum’s reception hall, Eben and the kids waited for Mia and Mr. and Mrs. DeLorca to return. Trying to distract the kids and keep them in high spirits, Eben tried to remind them that they were at a party by bringing them slices of the wedding cake. Isaac greedily accepted a piece of cake despite the fact that he had already had three pieces. Further complicating the matter was the fact that Isaac had promised his mother he would eat only one piece of wedding cake. Sarah knew of Isaac’s promise and also knew he had eaten quite a lot of cake already. Did she reveal Isaac’s lie or did she let her friend have his cake and eat it, too? Here’s what you decided!

Chapter 6: The Game’s Afoot
by Joseph Crisalli

“Isaac, have you had any cake yet?” Eben asked.

“No.” Isaac shook his head.

Sarah squinted at her friend. She knew that Isaac had already had three pieces of cake. She also knew that Isaac’s mother had told him not to eat more than one piece of cake at the reception. Sarah was aware that Isaac liked to eat, and he liked cakes and cookies most of all. But, she was also aware that he was lying.

Eben set the cake down in front of Isaac who greedily picked up the fork. Isaac looked briefly at Sarah, knowing that she was aware of his lie. He smiled at his friend.

“Eben,” Sarah began.

“Yes, Sarah.” Eben smiled as he sat down next to his young friends.

“Ummmm…” Sarah paused.

“What is it, Sarah?” Eben asked.

“Well,” Sarah thought for a second, “Eben, maybe you should ask Isaac if he’s had any cake again.”

“Oh, really?” Eben raised one eyebrow.

Isaac put down his fork and frowned at Sarah.

“Isaac,” Eben smiled, “Are you sure you haven’t had any cake?”

“Maybe a little.” Isaac said softly.

“How much is a little?” Eben asked.

“Three pieces,” Isaac mumbled.

“What was that?” Eben asked.

“Three pieces,” Isaac repeated more clearly.

“So, this would be your fourth?” Eben asked.

“Yes.” Isaac sighed.

“Would your mother approve of you having four pieces of cake in one night?” Eben asked.

Isaac considered saying that his mother wouldn’t mind, but he knew that Eben wouldn’t believe him. Besides that, he knew he shouldn’t lie.

“No.” Isaac pushed the plate away.

“He promised his mother he’d only have one.” Sarah said, finally.

“I see.” Eben nodded.

“Tattler!” Isaac snapped.

“I am not.” Sarah said plainly.

“Isaac,” Eben began, “Sarah was just looking out for you.”

Isaac frowned.

“There’s a reason your mom asked you to only eat one piece of cake. You know?” Eben added.

“I know, but I like cake.” Isaac mumbled.

“We all like cake.” Eben smiled. “Remember, I’m a DeLorca. As a family, we are great fans of all baked goods. My father didn’t earn the Londonderry distinction of C.P.C.U. for nothing.”

“What is that?” Kathy asked.

“Chief Pie Crust Uniter.” Eben explained.

“I don’t understand.” Isaac shook his head.

“It involves gathering pies from neighboring bakeries for a sort of reunion. My father united more pies than anyone else in Londonderry.” Eben shrugged. “Eventually he ate them all, a little bit at a time. Though it may seem a tad strange, it’s actually quite an honor where I come from.” Eben took a deep breath. “But, my point is that even my father—lover of all food that he is—understands that we can eat the things we like in moderation. But, only in moderation. Too much of anything isn’t good for us. So, Isaac, your mother and Sarah are just looking out for your well-being.”

“I understand.” Isaac nodded. “How can I become a C.P.C.U.?”

“Years of hard work and training.” Eben answered. “That, and, of course, you’ll need to move to Londonderry. However, that’s rather difficult. You see…”

“Still talking about Londonderry?” Evelyn Pipkin laughed as she stumbled over to their table.

Eben glanced at her feet to see if she had tripped on something. He noticed that she had white paint on the toes of her stylish high-heeled shoes.

“Yes. It’s my homeland.” Eben nodded. “Well technically, I suppose, it’s an island—or at least part of it is. Still…” Eben stopped himself, realizing that he was beginning to sound a lot like his father.

“If you like it so much, why don’t you go back there?” Evelyn scowled.

“As it is, we travel back and forth right now.” Eben answered politely. “You know how difficult it is to get to Londonderry.”

“I know how difficult a lot of things are.” Evelyn cackled.

“Getting paint off of leather shoes can be difficult.” Eben noted, pointing to her shoes.

“What?” Evelyn looked at her feet. “Oh!”

Her face flushed pink.

“Excuse me.” She said and hurried off.

“That was unusual.” Eben raised an eyebrow again. He looked at Nancy. “I wonder if that has anything to do with what Mother and Father are doing with Mia.”

At that very moment, Mrs. DeLorca was charging into the darkened gallery upstairs. She bumped into a person who yelped.

“Come with me.” Mrs. DeLorca said sternly.

“Joan, dear.” Mr. DeLorca called out to his wife again.

“I’m coming.” Mrs. DeLorca answered. “And, I’m bringing someone with me.”

Mrs. DeLorca headed out into the light of the museum’s upper corridor. She was followed by a woman—smartly dressed in a bright pink skirt and jacket.

Mrs. DeLorca looked at the woman’s face and exclaimed, “Vivian? Vivian Crane?”

“Yes,” Vivian Crane answered. She ran her fingers through her short brown hair.

“I didn’t know you were here.” Mrs. DeLorca said.

“I just came to see the space where my paintings will be exhibited.” Vivian explained.

“Joel,” Mrs. DeLorca said. “This is Vivian Crane, the painter I was telling you about. Vivian, this is my husband Joel DeLorca and our friend Mia Duomo.”

“Yes, I’m Mia Duomo.” Mia smiled. “That Mia Duomo.”

“Which Mia Duomo?” Vivian asked.

“The former fashion model. You may not know my name, but you know my face, I’m sure.” Mia grinned.

“Oh, of course.” Vivian answered even though she didn’t recognize Mia at all.

Vivian continued. “I came up here to see the gallery, but when I tried the light switch, it didn’t work. I was just looking for another way to turn on the lights when you found me.”

“This part of the museum is closed for redecoration in order to get ready for your exhibition. I suppose the contractors shut off the main circuit in here though I can’t see why they would have.” Mrs. DeLorca explained.

“I see.” Vivian nodded. “I didn’t bother anyone because I saw that there was a wedding reception going on in the ballroom. I didn’t want to intrude.”

“It’s for our friends.” Mrs. DeLorca said. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you joined us.”

“Thank you.” Vivian nodded.

“You may want to freshen up a bit.” Mia said pointedly. “I see you’ve gotten paint on your shoes. And, such lovely shoes, too. Aren’t they by Helga Warren?”

Mr. and Mrs. DeLorca looked at one another. Those were the same kind of shoes that had been worn by whoever left the strange painting.

“I say,” Mr. DeLorca raised his eyebrows. “As a painter, Miss Crane, you must know a great deal about art.” He looked at his wife. “Should we show Miss Crane the painting that Mia found earlier this evening?”

What should happen next?

They show Vivian the frightening painting and see how she reacts?
They take Vivian to the reception?
They ask Vivian more questions about what she’s been doing in the museum?

Email your thoughts.

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