Usually I don’t have this much trouble paying attention. The Greendale Museum is full of exhibits highlighting the town’s past, including some of the more spectacular crimes committed there. Today, though, we were there on a field trip, viewing a touring exhibit of medieval European artifacts, in connection with Sister Mary Agnes’ literature class. We were studying Chaucer, and she thought it’d be helpful if we saw how people actually lived back then.

Some of the stuff was pretty interesting, but now we were stuck in a room with only a large stone statue of a man to look at. And not anybody famous or notable, either, just a generic peasant. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep my attention focused.

Of course, if I knew then what I know now, I’d have been a lot more interested ...

The museum guide finished her lecture and started into the next room. Finally! I thought, when somebody bumped into me, knocking my glasses askew. “Hey!” I said, but the perpetrator, whoever it was, was lost in the crowd of red-and-gray plaid. I straightened my glasses and started to follow, only to almost run over my best friend, Terry Blair, who stood staring, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, at the statue.

“What’s the matter, Terr?” I asked.

“It-its eyes moved,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Th-the statue. I s-saw its eyes m-move.”

“When?”

“J-just n-now.”

I looked up at the statue. It didn’t look any different to me. And yet ... I remembered the eyes as looking straight out, over our heads. Now they seemed to be looking down, right at me. But how could that be?

Besides, I really wasn’t sure. I shook my head, reminding myself to pay better attention. If Uncle Jack found out about this, he’d never let me hear the end of it.

I turned back to Terry. “You must have imagined it.”

“But -- but I saw --“

“It was a trick of the light or something. Statues can’t move. C’mon, we’ve got to catch up.” If the sisters caught us lagging behind, we could kiss our citizenship points goodbye.

Terry gave the statue a last look as I pushed her into the next room. “This part of the exhibit has been set up to resemble a dungeon,” the guide was saying. “You’ll notice a variety of torture instruments, starting with the hanging cage overhead ...”

I was eating breakfast the next morning when an announcement came over the radio about a break-in at the museum. There weren’t any details about what was taken or anything. “I suppose you’ll want to go to the museum after school,” Mom said to me.

“Unless you’ll let me go now?” I asked.

“Absolutely not!” she declared. “School first, then you can visit the museum if you want. But after that, you come straight home. Understand me, young lady?”

“Yes, Mother,” I replied. That’s what I’d expected, but I had to try.

Mom came over and ruffled my hair. “I don’t suppose even you can get in too much trouble at a museum,” she remarked off-handedly.

I smiled ruefully. True, some of my detective adventures had turned into more than I expected, but this wasn’t going to be one of them. After all, what could possibly happen at a place like the Greendale Museum?

Chapter 2

Terry and I linked up on the way to Sacred Heart. The first words out of her mouth were, “Are you going to the museum today?” She’d obviously heard the radio report too.

“Sure am. You coming?”

“I guess,” she sighed.

I tried to reassure her. “Terry, we’ll be in a museum full of people in broad daylight. Nothing’s going to happen!”

“You -- you don’t think the statue had anything to do with it, do you?”

She was starting to annoy me. “Terry, I told you! It’s just a statue, and statues can’t move!”

“Okay, Toby, if you say so. I’ve just got a funny feeling about this, is all.”

Somehow I made it through school without losing any points. Just don’t ask me what we learned that day. It’s a good thing we didn’t have any pop quizzes, or I really would have been sunk.

After school finally let out, Terry and I pedaled over to the museum. We locked up our bikes and made our way inside. I was looking around, trying to identify the crime scene, when I saw someone else wearing the red sweater and red-and-gray plaid jumper of the Sacred Heart uniform. Margaret. I should have guessed she’d be here, too.

I tried to duck away, but she was already headed towards us. “Are you guys here about the robbery too?” she asked.

I nodded. No sense trying to deny it.

“There’s nothing much to see. They’ve got the room blocked off. I talked to one of the security guards, and it looks like all that’s missing is that statue of a peasant we saw yesterday.”

“Thanks, Margaret,” I replied, although inside I was fuming. For her to get the drop on us like that!

“The statue? Why would anyone steal that?” asked Terry.

Margaret and I shrugged simultaneously. “Dunno,” I said. “That’s what we’re trying to find out. Let’s go look at the room.”

“I already told you, Toby. There’s nothing to see there,” said Margaret.

I glared at her. “Maybe not, but I’d like to look for myself.”

“Suit yourself,” Margaret replied. She tagged along as Terry and I made our way towards the room where we’d seen the statue yesterday. Sure enough, the doorway was blocked off by yellow “crime scene” tape. I peeked around the tape; I could see the empty podium where the statue had been, but not much else.

Someone cleared his throat behind me. I looked up. It was a museum security guard. “Move along, please, young lady,” he said. “There’s nothing to see here.”

“Can you tell me anything about what happened here?” I asked.

He pointed to Margaret. “Ask your friend. I already told her everything I know. Now, move along!”

This looked like a dead end. I turned around and walked away, Terry and Margaret following. “What do we do now, Toby?” asked Terry.

I had a plan. The first thing to do was lose Margaret. “We go home, I guess,” I sighed, trying to sound disappointed. “See ya at school tomorrow, Margaret.”

“Okay. See ya, Toby.”

Terry and I kept walking. I glanced back once. Margaret was looking at some of the exhibits, seemingly not paying any attention to us. “C’mon,” I whispered to Terry. “There are some pay phones in the lobby. I gotta make a call.”

Chapter 3

We located a vacant phone. I dropped a dime in the slot and dialed home. On the third ring, my mother picked up. “Hello?”

“Hi, Mom! What time is dinner tonight?”

“Oh, around 6:30, I guess. Why?”

“Well, Sister Mary Helen assigned a research report today, and Terry and me want to go to the library and get started on it. May I?”

“Terry and I, not Terry and me. Sure, that’ll be fine, so long as you’re home in time for dinner.”

“Okay, Mom, thanks! See ya!”

I hung up. Terry was looking at me quizzically. “Sister Mary Helen didn’t assign any research report,” she stated.

“I know, Terry,” I replied. “See, the museum closes at 5:00 tonight. Give the staff half an hour to lock stuff up and leave. It’ll take about 15 minutes to get home from here. So, if I can find a place to hide out until the museum closes, I’ll have a good 45 minutes to look for clues.”

“Toby, that’s crazy!” she retorted. “How will you get out?”

I shrugged. “I dunno, through a window or something. Even if I set off an alarm, by the time the police get here I’ll be long gone.”

“Where will you hide?”

“I noticed a janitor’s closet off the main hallway. That’s as good a place as any.”

She shook her head. “I don’t like it, Toby. I think it’s a bad idea.”

I didn’t really like it either, but Margaret already had a big head start on me, and I’d do almost anything to solve the mystery before she did. “Well,” I said slowly, “you know, you don’t have to stay.”

She thought for a few seconds, then blurted out, “I need to call home. Can I borrow a dime?”

Terry got permission to go to the library, too. We wandered around the museum for a while, pretending to browse the exhibits. A few minutes before closing, we slipped into the alcove off the main hallway. I tried the door to the janitor’s closet. Luckily, it was unlocked. I probably could have picked the lock, but that would have taken too long and risked calling attention to us.

Making sure no one was watching, Terry and I slipped into the closet. We’d barely sat down among the brooms and cleaning supplies when the door opened again and Margaret stepped inside.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered.

“Same thing you are,” she whispered back. “I figured you were up to something -- you usually are -- so when you didn’t leave the museum right away, I followed you.”

I kicked myself mentally for not noticing her. She couldn’t have been that difficult to spot. “Well, you can’t stay here with us.”

“Either I stay, or I tell the security guards about the two girls I saw going into the janitor closet,” Margaret declared.

I was racking my brains for a reply when Terry said, “Toby, we’ve got to let her stay.”

“Oh ... okay, then.” I didn’t like it, but Terry was right.

“It’ll be better if we work together, Toby,” Margaret said. “I could see things that you miss.”

I bit my tongue hard.

We settled in to wait. Nobody said anything. I held my breath each time I heard footsteps outside the door, but no one came in.

Finally, my watch read 5:30. I crept to the door and opened it, looking and listening carefully. The lights in the museum had been dimmed. I couldn’t see, or hear, anybody. “Looks like the coast is clear,” I told the others. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 4

I led the way back to the crime scene. Margaret started to duck under the tape, but I stopped her. “Not so fast,” I said. “Let’s see what we can see from here, and then go slow. We don’t want to mess up any footprints or other clues.”

I scanned the floor carefully, looking for any indentions in the carpet, any dirt, grass, or leaves that may have been tracked in, or anything the thieves may have left behind. After a little while, Margaret said, “I don’t see anything, Toby. Let’s go on in.”

“I’m not through looking yet,” I replied. Actually I was, but I didn’t want her to know that. After giving the room one last going over, searching for something that didn’t belong (and not finding anything), I announced, “Okay, let’s go. Head for the podium, slowly, and keep your eyes open. I’ll go first,” I snarled at Margaret, who’d ducked under the tape again.

We made our way to the podium where the statue had stood yesterday. “How do you suppose they got it out of here? That thing must weigh a ton,” Margaret said.

I looked up at the ceiling. “There aren’t any skylights or anything, and the windows aren’t big enough, so it must have gone through one of the doors.” The room only had two entrances: the one we’d come in through and the one leading to the dungeon room.

“Maybe it walked away?” Terry said nervously.

Margaret snorted. “That’s a good one, Terry,” she said. She didn’t know Terry was serious.

After a few more seconds, Margaret went on. “Why did they steal it? It was just an old statue.”

“I don’t know,” said Terry. I didn’t reply. I was still looking around for clues about how the thieves got the statue out of the building.

“I know!” Margaret, as usual, answered her own question. “I bet it was hollow, and there was something inside! That’s why it was stolen!”

“That could be, Margaret,” I said, “but right now I’m trying to figure out how it was stolen. We can figure out the why later.”

“Well,” said Margaret, “there’s obviously nothing here. I’m going to see if there’s anything in the next room.” She started walking towards the exit that led to the dungeon area.

“Margaret, wait! We’re not done here yet! We’ve got to search the whole room!” I insisted.

“You aren’t the boss, Toby!” she said over her shoulder. “If you want to waste your time in here, that’s fine by me! I’m going to look for clues where there might actually be some!” Without another word, she stomped out of the room.

For one moment, I thought about going after her. She may be right; we hadn’t found anything so far, and I didn’t want her to beat me again. Then my resolve stiffened. We hadn’t finished searching the room. Uncle Jack taught me to be thorough. I knew Margaret’s tendency was to rush through things; she was far more likely to miss clues than I was.

“Should -- should we go after her?” Terry asked.

“No, it’s okay. You heard what she said. Besides, we’re better off without her --“ and then I saw it.

Chapter 5

A slight depression in the carpet, right in front of the podium. Something heavy had been there earlier. I knelt down beside it and lightly ran my fingers over the carpet, trying to make out the shape.

“What do you see, Toby?” asked Terry.

“I ... I’m not sure, yet.” The depression had the shape of a human footprint (for the left foot) -- a very large footprint, much larger than mine or anybody’s I knew. Whoever left that footprint must have been very tall, a giant, like ... like the statue.

I shook my head. Of course it was the statue! The thieves must have set it down there after they’d gotten it off the podium! In that case, there should be another footprint right next to this one. I searched the carpet, but found nothing. I kept looking. Finally, about three feet from the footprint, I found another depression. Sure enough, it was identical to the first, except it was for the right foot. But how did they get so far apart?

I was pondering that when I heard a creaking sound coming from the next room, followed by a loud slam. “Terry, could you go see what Margaret’s up to?” I said absently. I hoped Margaret wasn’t messing up any evidence.

“O-okay, Toby.” Terry’s footsteps receded as I kept studying the footprints. Seconds later, she shrieked “Toby!” at the top of her lungs. She sounded scared to death. I looked up. Terry stood in the doorway, staring into the other room. She turned around and took a single step towards me, then an enormous arm wrapped around her waist and snatched her back out of sight.

I jumped to my feet and ran after her. Terry’s scream got cut off in mid-cry. Rounding the corner, I saw her struggling with somebody -- I couldn’t see too clearly in the dim room. Whoever it was had one arm encircling her waist and the other over her mouth. “Let her go!” I shouted.

Terry’s captor turned toward me. As he did, his face came into the light. I gasped. It was the statue! Incredible as it sounds, he had come to life!

The statue dropped Terry, who slumped to the ground, and started towards me. I stood rooted for a few seconds, watching him approach, before remembering to run. But I was too late, and the statue too fast. I only got a step or two before he grabbed me by the collar and yanked me back into his grasp. One arm went around my middle, the other over my face. He lifted me off the ground, squeezing me in a bear hug, pushing the air out of my lungs. With my mouth and nose blocked, I couldn’t draw any more in. I kicked wildly and tried to pull his arm away from my face, but I couldn’t budge it. I felt my strength rapidly ebbing; within seconds, it seemed, I went limp, then passed out altogether.

Chapter 6

I was falling, endlessly falling. I could see the Earth, still far below me, but getting closer with every passing second. Somehow I knew that, if I could flap my arms and legs, I could fly to a safe place. I tried, but my limbs wouldn’t move. I figured I had to be dreaming. I tried to scream myself awake, but no sound came out of my mouth. I kept struggling to move and scream as the ground kept getting nearer and nearer and nearer --

My eyes snapped open and, after a few seconds, my head cleared. The first thing I saw was the ground moving beneath me; then I looked up and saw stars in the nighttime sky. The statue had slung me across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. My wrists were tied together in front of me, my ankles tied, and my mouth gagged. The falling sensation came because he was walking downhill.

A few seconds’ squirming and struggling convinced me that I couldn’t loosen the ropes around my wrists or ankles, nor break the statue’s hold on me. So I looked around to see if I could figure out where we were going ... and groaned. The museum was on Greendale’s outskirts, and we were headed away from town, straight into the heart of the swampiest area around.

Sure enough, we were headed directly for a pond. Go around it, I silently urged the statue. Stay on solid ground. You never know what might be under the surface. But he kept going straight, making a beeline for ... wherever. The water rose past his knees, up to his waist ... then didn’t come any higher. It seemed I’d stay dry.

We were a little more than halfway across when it happened. The statue suddenly sunk up to his armpits. I could feel his legs still churning, but he wasn’t making any headway. I didn’t know if it was a sinkhole, quicksand, or mud, but the result was the same: we weren’t going anywhere but down.

As the statue sank up to his chin, he extended his arms upwards, keeping me out of the water. He kept sinking, though, and before long only his hands (and me) were above the surface. I was afraid he’d drag me down with him. Just as his hands disappeared, though, he let go.

With my arms and legs bound, I was having a difficult time keeping my head above the water. I pulled and tugged at the rope around my wrists, trying to get enough slack to pull a hand free. The water was very cold, and I was getting very tired.

Suddenly, I heard somebody call my name. “Toby!” It was Terry! Then another, male voice called too. “Toby!” Somebody was looking for me!

I took as deep a breath as I could hold and started working on my gag. I knew that, with my hands busy, I’d sink beneath the water and, sure enough, I did. Just when I thought my lungs would burst, the gag came loose. I kicked back to the surface and hollered, “Here! Here! I’m over here!”

A few seconds later, Terry ran up to the edge of the pond. “I see her! There she is!” she shouted. She was joined by a young man wearing a security guard’s uniform. The museum’s night watchman, I realized. He pointed a flashlight at me.

The night watchman started wading out towards me. “No, wait! There’s quicksand or something! You’ll sink!” I yelled. He looked around and found a long stick, which he used to probe the pond bottom as he made his way out deeper. I kept treading water, trying to kick towards him.

He got within a few feet of me before the bottom got too soft. He extended the stick toward me, saying, “Come on, Toby, just a little more – you can do it!” I kicked and strained, kicked and strained, and finally managed to catch the end of the stick. He quickly pulled me to him, picked me up in his arms, and carried me back to land.

Chapter 7

Terry and the night watchman soon had me untied. “Are you okay, Toby?” he asked.

I took a couple minutes to get my breath back. I was cold, and sore in a few places, but that was it. “Y-yeah. I’m o-o-kay.”

He smiled. “I’m Brent, by the way.” He couldn’t have been much older than Terry’s brother, Dennis.

I managed to smile back. “Thanks, Brent.”

“Thank her.” He pointed to Terry. “She’s the one who found the tracks.”

I looked over at Terry. “I remembered everything you told me about looking for stuff,” she said, wiping at her eyes.

“Thanks, Terr,” I said. It wasn’t enough, but I couldn’t think of anything else.

“You’re freezing. Let’s get back to the museum so you call dry off and warm up,” Brent said. He was right. I couldn’t stop shivering. He took his jacket off and wrapped it around me, which helped ... some.

Brent picked me up again and carried me back to the museum, Terry following close behind.

Within a few minutes, I was sitting in Brent’s office, wrapped in a blanket he’d gotten from his car, sipping from a freshly-made cup of cocoa. “Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. I wasn’t shivering quite as much.

“I told you I saw the statue move yesterday,” Terry said reproachfully.

“I’m sorry, Terry. Next time, I’ll believe you.”

“So the old legend’s true,” Brent mused.

We both looked at him. “What old legend?” I asked.

“Have you ever heard of a golem?” he replied.

We both shook our heads.

“The story of the golem began with Jewish folklore, but it was quite common in medieval times. The golem was an artificial man. It could be made out of any substance, although clay and rock were the most common, and it obeyed its creator’s orders to the letter.”

“So you think the statute was ... was really a golem?” I asked.

“Can you think of any other explanation?”

“No, but ... what did he want with me?”

Brent looked at me carefully. “Take off your glasses for a minute,” he requested.

I did. He snapped his fingers. ‘That’s it! Come with me!”

He led us out of the office, explaining as he went. “One of the good things about working in a museum is I get to see all the stuff that isn’t put out on exhibit.” We went into a storeroom, and Brent started rummaging around a bunch of easels covered with dropcloths. “Ah, here it is! Take a look at this!”

I looked; it was a family portrait, apparently a woman and her daughter. “Look at the girl,” Brent urged.

Terry saw it first. “Toby ... it’s you!” she gasped.

I took a closer look. Sure, the hair was different, but ... the eyes, the nose, the chin ... I couldn’t deny the resemblance.

I turned to Brent. “Who are they?”

“That’s the Baroness of Thuin, in what’s now Belgium, and her daughter,” he explained. “The Baron of Thuin was feuding with the Earl of Bavny. The story goes that the Earl planned to send a statue to the Baron, as a peace offering. The statue, though, was really a golem, who was ordered to kidnap the Baron’s daughter and bring her back, unharmed, to Bavny. Only, she died of disease before the Earl could put his plan in action. So, the golem stood waiting for all these years –“

“-- until he came here and saw you!” Terry finished.

“Wow. That does explain why he kidnapped me instead of Terry or – or –“ I stopped dead. “Margaret! We forgot about her! C’mon!”

I ran to the dungeon exhibit, Terry and Brent close behind. “Margaret! Margaret!” I shouted, looking around the room. There was no sign of her.

Then, I heard a groan coming from overhead. We all looked up. There she was, lying on the floor of the hanging cage. “Margaret! Are you okay?” I hollered.

“Ohhhhhhhh.” She slowly sat up, rubbing the side of her head. “I ... I think so ... where am I? What happened?”

“I’ll explain later,” I said, relaxing. She sounded fine.

“Get me down from here!” Margaret demanded.

“I’ll go get a ladder,” Brent said.

While we waited, Terry suddenly got a very perturbed look on her face. “What’s the matter, Terr?” I asked.

“Well ... I was just thinking ... that golem seemed awfully determined. Do you suppose he’s still trying to crawl out of that pond, to capture you again?”

“I don’t know, Terr. I just – I don’t know.”