Rachel Cantor - A Highly Unlikely Scenario, or a Neetsa Pizza Employee's Guide to Saving the World

That’s Peter, Sally said, no longer whispering. He works for me. When he’s on duty he pipes a military tattoo into the stairwells.

Leonard looked at her quizzically.

Don’t worry, she said. It’s a good thing.

I’m not worried, Leonard said, because already he trusted her, utterly and with his entire being, this woman who would be grandmother to his grandsons — and he wondered what he might give her, to show her his love. Milione had said women want only three things: wealth, position, and compliments. Well, Leonard had neither wealth nor position, not since he’d quit Neetsa Pizza. But he could offer compliments.

You guide very well, he said.

She ignored him.

They eventually passed through a wooden revolving door, marked with a sign that read Priceless Manuscripts , into a paneled room full of empty study tables. An old man peered at them from a curved desk that dominated the room.

That’s Peter, Sally said. I’ll vouch for you.

Thank you, Leonard said.

Peter said nothing, just handed them some antiseptic silk gloves and pressed a button, allowing them into a small room to the side.

The small room to the side

The room was small but opulent: stucco friezes of angels cavorting amid orchards framed the lower part of the walls; above waist level, the walls were painted with strange botanical specimens, huge plants with drooping buds, and roots that dug deep into the earth; the ceiling was adorned with gigantic gilt flames; and the floor was covered by a thick carpet of yellow, gold, and pink rosettes. Against the back wall was an elaborately carved blackwalnut wardrobe that looked like it belonged in the Leader’s domus. In the center of the room was a scholar’s table with four matching swirly chairs.

The local Society of Cathars commissioned this room in 1873, said Sally. They wanted the manuscript to abide in magnificent surroundings. They are convinced that it is a lost Cathar treasure. They are wrong, of course.

Leonard nodded, not knowing what a Cathar treasure might be. He wished he could slip into the hallway and ask the Brazen Head, but Sally said, Gloves, please! and stood before the wardrobe — for a long time, as if gathering her strength — then opened the door with a key that was already in the lock. Inside, resting on a green plush dais, was a book — small but thick, about seven inches wide and ten inches long. On a bottom shelf were other old books, leather bound and stained, covered by a dustproof cloth. Sally removed the cloth, laid it reverently on the scholar’s table, and placed the book from the dais on top of it.

This is the only unreadable book in the universe, she said. It is written in a code no one can understand. Emperor Rudolph II of Bohemia purchased the manuscript in 1586, though it is known to be older than that. The emperor was a strange man who amused himself with games and codes. He collected dwarves—

Dwarves? Leonard asked.

Don’t interrupt, Sally said. If you interrupt, I forget where I am and have to start over.

Sorry, Leonard said.

He amused himself with games. He collected codes — no, he collected games. Gosh darn it!

Sally sat down and looked flummoxed.

I believe he collected dwarves, Leonard said.

If you know so much, why am I telling you? Are you from the Cathar Society? Is this a test?

I promise you, Leonard said, we are just an uncle and a nephew interested in books.

I think you should go now, Sally said.

But we’ve checked you out for three hours! Leonard said.

Sally looked defeated.

So you have, she said.

They’re doing it! Felix said. Leonard, look!

The two adults turned quickly to look at Felix. His small face was rapt as he stared down at a page opened at random.

They’re dancing! he cried. Just like in Grandpa’s books, quick, look, the letters are dancing!

No one’s supposed to know

Before Leonard could see what Felix was talking about, Sally pushed the boy with both hands; he fell backward and knocked against a stucco frieze. Leonard rushed to stand between her and his nephew.

What are you doing, pushing a small boy like that? Are you crazy?

She pushed Leonard then. She was surprisingly strong and Leonard also stumbled backward.

Who are you? she shouted, her curls and headbeads trembling. Did you come here to make fun of me? All I have to do is press that alarm over there and Peter will come with his tranquilizing gun. He’s a Baconian too, and we take the Voynich very seriously!

You’re crazy, Leonard said. You just pushed a small boy against the wall because he has a reading problem!

I don’t have a reading problem! Felix said. It’s just the way I see things.

Then Sally shocked both man and boy by beginning to cry.

No one’s supposed to know! she said, slumping onto one of the swirly chairs. How did you find out? Did my oculist tell you? Is he a Cathar? I knew he was a Cathar! All that talk about light and dark! I knew he wasn’t talking about my iris!

We don’t know what you’re talking about, Leonard said softly, but if you’re in trouble, we’d like to help.

I need both of you to leave now, she said, blowing her nose into the dustproof cloth. Leave your gloves in the catchment box as you go.

But, Sally! Leonard said. We don’t know what we did wrong!

My name isn’t Sally, Sally said. Now go.

Grasshopper legs and the world of the demons

Leonard consulted the Brazen Head on his navigation watch about caravan times and then, because they had time, brought Felix to the (Nondenominational) University Eating Establishment to get him a snack of fried grasshopper legs, which Felix loved but today would not eat.

Can it be the Time between Here and There? Felix asked.

Of course, Leonard said.

It’s my fault, the boy said. I shouldn’t have said what I said. Now you’ll never get married!

You only said the truth, right?

Yup, Felix said.

I think she’s a little crazy.

I think she’s nice. I want you to marry her!

Me too, Leonard said, surprising himself. How about we find out what Cathars are?

Felix nodded and poured sesame sauce on a grasshopper leg.

The navigator watch didn’t have as many options as the screen Brazen Head. Leonard chose the window shopper, then pressed Speak to Me and asked, What is a Cathar? The window shopper smashed fancy store windows, grabbed shiny infofiles and hid them in his overcoat, then deposited them in front of the Brazen Head, which looked at them disdainfully and said:

“Catharism, also known as Albigensianism, was a medieval Christian sect that flourished in Languedoc and northern Italy in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Considered heretical by the Catholic Church, the sect was all but obliterated by the Crusades and Inquisition; a remnant found refuge in our Great Land, where they now form a small but powerful faction. According to Catharism’s dualistic beliefs, an evil material world stands in possibly eternal opposition to a good, spiritual world. Personally, the Brazen Head believes the Cathars to have been influenced by Manichean dualism, though the Head recognizes that in holding this belief it bucks all manner of scholarly tide. Later, alligator!”

The Head stuck a finger in his ear, wiggled it about, and removed it to find, on its tip, a little woman, who was chased off the edge of the watch face by a black-robed man with an ax.

Not terribly illuminating, Leonard said.

It’s the demons, Felix said. Don’t you see? The evil material world standing in possibly eternal opposition to a good, spiritual world. He’s talking about Grandfather’s demons!

Give a girl a present

Leonard hoped Isaac would call with a Plan B, so he dragged his grandfather’s settee back into the no-longer-white room and spent the night there. Carol wasn’t back from her book group, so Felix, who didn’t love being alone in the dark, slept in Leonard’s room with Medusa.