23 The House on the Rock

Chapter 23 The House on the Rock There's a birthday tradition in the McDonald household: cupcakes before breakfast! With a candle in each one. It's called Backward Day. Dessert first and then the meal. Mrs. McDonald woke up before the twins so she could bake four cupcakes in the RV's little microwave oven. They may not have been as delicious as last year's, but cupcakes were cupcakes. Presents, it was agreed, would be given out at the end of the day. The McDonalds checked out of the campground and followed Route 23 heading south through the gentle hills and dairy farms of southern Wisconsin. After about an hour, they passed this sign:

the house on the rock AHEAD 5 MILES The twins looked at each other. They had lived together for thirteen years, and by now each knew what the other was thinking. They didn't have to say it out loud. This was it. No more ciphers. No more mysteries. No more secret meetings with odd strangers. Neither of them knew what was going to happen at The House on the Rock; but whatever happened, it would be over. For all they knew, this could very well be their last birthday. Pep hugged her brother, and he hugged her back. Coke played a mental video of everything that had happened to them since the last day of

school. The guys in golf carts with blow guns. The jump off the cliff. The fire at school. Meeting Bones and learning about The Genius Files. The ciphers. The balls of twine. Doing the dump on Mrs. Higgins. The singing sand dune. The sadistic bowler dudes. The SPAM fiasco. Dad going crazy at the Bonneville Salt Flats. Mom flipping out at the nonexistent Museum of Questionable Medical Devices. The miles and miles of highway they had traveled. The strange places they had visited. It had been quite a trip, and they were only a little more than halfway across the country. From the parking lot, you can barely see the house or the rock. Trees on all sides block the view. The twins grabbed their backpacks and followed their parents down a twisted walkway to the entrance. A group of people were waiting in line to buy tickets. Dr. McDonald paid the admission with his credit card and asked the man behind the desk where the bathrooms were

located. "How about we meet back here later?" Coke suggested to his parents. "Okay," his mother replied. "You two stay together—and stay out of trouble, you hear? Don't touch anything." "We won't." When the twins were little, they'd held hands with their parents and went everywhere as a foursome. By the time they were ten, whenever they went out as a family, the kids had wanted to run up ahead. Parents walk too slowly. They have to look at every little thing. And it seemed like they always had to stop and use the bathroom. Grown-ups just can't hold it in the way kids can. Near the entrance, there was a plaque on the wall that said a visionary architect named Alex Jordan started building The House on the Rock back in the 1940s, all by himself. It became his life's work and obsession until he died in 1989. Coke and Pep silenced their cell phones and

checked the time. It was 12:29 p.m. "Perfect," Coke said. "We have a half an hour to find The Infinity Room. Plenty of time. Let's roll." "Maybe we should ask for directions," his sister suggested. "I don't want to make anyone suspicious," Coke replied. "We'll find it on our own." Pep shook her head and mumbled one word. "Boys." They followed a group of tourists who were lining up outside The Gate House, which was the entryway to the main part of The House on the Rock. Once inside the door, it was hard to see. The room was illuminated mainly by colorful antique stained glass lamps. The floor and walls were lined with carpet except for some floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The ceiling was low, and Coke bumped his head against it. Fortunately, the ceiling was carpeted, too. It gave the room a claustrophobic feel. "This place is creepy," Pep whispered into her

brother's ear. "Just be careful," he replied. "Don't let down your guard." In one corner of The Gate House was a group of odd-looking violins, drums, and other musical instruments. The twins—and everyone else in the room—were startled when this little orchestra spontaneously started playing chamber music for no reason... and with no human help. It appeared to be controlled not electronically, but pneumatically. The music was slightly out of tune. It was an eerie sound, the tune unrecognizable. The place was sort of like a museum, but sort of not like a museum, too. It looked more like a Haunted House on the Rock. "I'm scared, Mommy," a little boy said, clinging to his mother while the strange music played.