MaruMA:SideStory01:Chapter 8
Chapter 8 - 1980, Spring, Boston
“And thanks to those heroes, America won the war—”
The explanation of the exhibit finally ends with Crystal making up the reason for World War II ending.
The last group to come and visit never planned to listen to any explanations from the start. Amongst the twenty visitors, half of them are sliding down the banister as a game, the other half are being distracted by other exhibits.
And the girls, worried about the rain destroying their hairdos, are looking at the heavy rain outside the door and sighing, while a pair of young, developed lovers are indulging in a long kiss, regardless of everyone watching.
All in front of a young female mummy.
Crystal can’t help but think something mean, ‘I hope you get cursed—”
The only redhead young man who was listening to her seriously pushes his spectacles up with his pointer finger, asking questions.
In those family friendly movies, there’s always a traditional child genius like him.
“But even if Germany used that ‘Box that will cause floods’, America still won’t lose. After all, there’s an entire sea between America and Germany, so there’s as much water as they could need there, right?”
“That’s true, but the European continent where Germany and England might have seriously damaged.”
The moment the words leaver her mouth, the kid looks at Crystal as though he’s looking at pickled cucumbers,
“England is an island country! Aren’t you a college student? Why don’t you know something so basic as that? Geesh, I always thought it sounded like a hoax, but I still made myself hear out the whole thing, and all that time it was just a made-up fantasy story—”
“Y-you said this is a fantasy story…”
“So, this is fake too?”
The child genius points at the exhibit in the glass case. A left arm, so white from the place of amputation all the way to the fingertips that it’s kinda scary, is lying on the middle of a red cloth, and at first glance you might even think it’s part of a plaster statue. But its surface is as smooth as wax, and there are callouses on the palm that wouldn’t be there on a work of art.
“If this is fake…”
But the kid doesn’t finish listening to her before he runs to his companions near the exit.
“You guys, go home once the rain lets up a bit!”
Crystal sighs, taking off her nametag and getting ready to get the keys from the curator.
Another day is over, and today has finally ended.
As usual, the only visitors are groups after groups of elementary school students, and those kids aren’t here out of personal interest either, they’re just here reluctantly because the teachers use visiting a museum as a replacement for detention.
Actually it’s because this is a small museum that’s built in a safe neighborhood and is free to visit, so the local schools use it a lot.
Although she really likes volunteering at the museum, but sometimes she wish she could explain things to adults too.
She looks around the unassuming museum, and decides that next time they’ll put luxurious and shiny golden things on display.
Although doing this might be a bit insulting to the owner, but this place still needs things that can attract the people to come and visit.
“And then?”
The unexpected sound almost causes her to drop the nametag in her hands. She didn’t think that in the museum that seemed empty, there are still visitors.
“How did that story end?”
He points into the glass case.
Water drips off his sleeve, even forming little puddles by his feet.
He pulls aside the wet hair sticking uncomfortably to his forehead with his right hand, revealing light brown eyes.
“…Is the rain outside really that heavy? I’ll get you a towel.”
Her voice is so nervous it’s shaking slightly.
“It’s okay, I just want to hear more of that story.”
“You’re not from this country, are you? Why are you visiting Boston? Sightseeing?”
“No, you could say I’m here on a mission or for work.”
The words from his mouth are polite and accurate, without a single hint of an accent.
Although the two are similar in age, but the air radiating off of him is just different somehow.
Not only his words and actions, even the way he grew up must have been something special.
And deducing from the way he said ‘mission’, maybe he’s a soldier from another country.
“I want to know what happened to those people after the Box sank.”
“…Henry Regent died not long after that. Apparently the passenger boat he was riding on as the resident doctor was accidentally blown up by friendly fire, but DT and Kou Li are still alive and well to this day, y’know! They have four kids, six grandkids. Their second daughter insisted on becoming a celebrity, so she ran away from home when she was fifteen and wasn’t heard from since… The oldest son and his wife inherited the restaurant, and the younger two live in Boston too. Last year they got great grandkids. Although they’re already more than eighty years old, they’re still enjoying life playing with their grandkids. I heard that that restaurant is always the most modernly-decorated, and is quite famous in Chinatown.”
Since the other person looks surprised, Crystal quickly adds,
“Their glass windows are all made of the newest bulletproof glass. Mike, who inherited the place, feels surprised about that, but I heard his parents refused to let up on that no matter what.”
“Then MISS Graves and… that man named Deuter?”
So as not to displease him, Crystal looks at the young man’s eyes discreetly.
But underneath the light of the exhibits, she can’t even determine the color of his irises.
“…April Graves continued her work after that, which is returning things to the place where they belong. But things like those treasures displayed pompously at large museums, or requests for things like the Holy Grail which people worship, she stays far away from them. Ten years ago the Graves Group created this museum, and almost everything here was handled personally by Hazel Graves and her heir, April Graves, but only a few people know that. Although they’re retired, April Graves and Richard Deuter are both healthy and strong. Now they’re in charge of a charity organization, and they fly about here and there every day, busily… Ah~ I can’t stand it anymore, can I ask you a question now?”
He stands with his hands on his waist, tilting his head slightly to make her finish what she has to say.
“Hey, you’re not going to grab a chair and smash the glass case, are you?”
“No, I wouldn’t do something so violent.”
“But, you look just like my grandfather’s pictures from when he was younger.”
“Do we look that similar?”
That’s right, very similar, even those eyes are the same, light brown eyes with irises shining silver.
He narrows those unique eyes, looking at the ‘fake Key’, and then he pulls up his wet fringe again, using perfect textbook and understandable English to say,
“I was introduced by someone to give you a job, I hope you can help me retrieve the real ‘Key’, not the reproduction, from a heavily guarded safe.
“But that’s my grandfather’s family…”
Crystal looks at the young man before her, and counts to five deep within her throat. By the time she reaches the end of her count, she has made her decision.
“Okay! Leave it to me, traveler. I’ll definitely bring it back.”
Because April Graves chose her as an heir. Cystal knows, that what Grandmother gave her isn’t something that can be expressed in numbers.
I must fulfill my duty over the Boxes, and return them to the most suitable place and owners.
“But, can you please tell me the whole story? Are you meeting anyone for dinner? If you don’t mind, I’ll introduce you to a trendy restaurant, we can talk slowly there. Start with your name and where you come from.”
That’s right, Grandmother has taught me all the important things.
Including the way to trust people.
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