The Mysterious Edge of the Heroic World by Konigsburg E. L

Author:Konigsburg, E. L. [Konigsburg, E. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult, Mystery, Childrens, Historical, Art
ISBN: 9781439106877
Goodreads: 8181190
Publisher: Atheneum Books for Young Readers
Published: 2007-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

THE LIBRARY IN MRS. ZENDER’S house was an enormous room with what appeared to be a walk-in fireplace. Two walls had shelves from floor to ceiling. Every shelf was stacked with books and pictures in silver frames, small bronze figures, and glass objects (all of which needed cleaning). Mrs. Zender sat at the library table and pored over small items; Mrs. Wilcox had asked her to sort those she wanted to keep from those she wanted to sell.

Since William had given Amedeo his own china marking pencil, they shared chores, and when the day was over, they could not reliably tell who had done what.

They were polishing one of the several pairs of andirons that Mrs. Zender would not be taking with her—there would be no fireplaces in the Waldorf—when Mrs. Zender said, “Mr. Zender loved having a fire in the fireplace. When Daddy built this house, the only fireplace was in the living room. When Mr. Zender added the library and the master bedroom wing, he included a fireplace in each room and enlarged the dining room so that he could add a fireplace there as well. Mr. Zender had the architect draw up plans for a fireplace in the master bath, but for some engineering or scientific reason, it couldn’t be done. Something to do with chimneys and exhaust fans. Who knows?

“We certainly had a plentiful supply of kindling and fire logs from Daddy’s mill, but I can tell you Mr. Zender never could start a fire.” She looked mischievously at Mrs. Wilcox, who blushed. “But he was no Boy Scout, either.”Mrs. Wilcox blushed again.

“Oh, well,” Mrs. Zender continued, “Mother always said that Mr. Zender had other talents. He was good-looking, and I think Mother put looking good right up there with the harpsichord, an instrument that has limited performance time and requires a great deal of maintenance.” Then before putting her eyeglasses back on, Mrs. Zender stole a glance at Amedeo and William to make sure they were in on her joke. “Of course, Mr. Zender couldn’t play the harpsichord, either.”

There was so much stuff in the room that some things were on the steps of the ladder that rolled along the top of the shelves. Those had to be removed before Amedeo and William could begin to empty the shelves. Mrs. Wilcox stood by, holding a yellow lined tablet and a pen, listing each item as it was taken down. From one of the ladder’s steps, William took a framed menu from a French restaurant that had a squiggle of a drawing and a signature.

When he handed it to her, Mrs. Zender said, “Sandy Calder. That is, Alexander Calder, the artist who does those mobile things. He had dinner with Mr. Zender and me in Paris. He was a jolly man. He signed this menu instead of the check. I didn’t mind, but Mr. Zender did.” She laid the menu on the desk. “Don’t bother to list this, Mrs. Wilcox. I’ll take it with me.”

On the highest shelf to the left of the giant fireplace was a row of books with foreign titles.

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