
So, I knew that Lewis Carroll wrote Alice in Wonderland, but I never thought about any of his other work. It is JUST like Amanda to show us that there is more than what meets the eye. Down the rabbit hole we go!
You guys really blow things wide open! I’m kind of in awe. Comparing writing samples? emilys861 and RRRules, you guys are two steps away from joining a forensics team on some crime show!
Although the purple pen recurrence (pointed out by trumpetgirl) is something to think about…. is the identity of the quote-er more important than its meaning? I’m still not sure, but Nia (as always) thought we needed more information. We decided to take tiffany923’s and kuwaly's advice and look into more Lewis Carroll poetry. Off to Nia’s home-planet: the Orion Library.
We went straight to the computers to do a search. I never feel like I’m on a mission when I’m at the library. I am usually more of a meanderer or you could say procrastinator, if you wanted. But there we were, huddled around an old monitor, scrolling down all the search results for Author: L. Carroll/ Subject: poetry.
“54 results,” Hal grimaced.
“ You think we should look through all of these?” I asked.
“Certainly not!” Nia was already writing down the catalog number of one specific book. “This one! It was published in 1939.” I tried to poke the history center in my brain for any significant happenings. I need to pay more attention in that class…
When Nia saw that we weren’t keeping up, she snapped, “First edition! Amanda has a thing for first editions, trust me.” She was so confident that I would not think of not trusting her.
The book we wanted was high up on the shelf, dusty and thick. It took all three of us to get it down. “Look up “A Valentine” in the index,” Hal instructed while brushing the dust from his hands on his jeans and sneezing. Flip. Flip. “Ah!” Nia pulled us in, ignoring the librarian obviously leaning over her desk to give us a disapproving look.
The poem “A Valentine” had been “Valentino-ed.” Ten words were highlighted in the poem with what seemed to be purple chalk. When we put the highlighted words together, they spelled out: “I have gladness I should share a lonely shadow broken now flown free and fast.” We each shot a quick photo of it with our collective phones (see our photographic proof positive!) before we blew the evidence away like a bunch of 5 year olds with birthday candles. Only our wish was that this evidence, whatever it is, never falls into the wrong hands. Purple dust spiraled off the book and the message was gone.
“What could this mean?” I wondered, admiring the first edition book myself, stroking the cover and turning it from back to front. Hal was struggling with his allergies, wheezing and coughing.
“I don’t know, but I do know that I’m about to sneeze myself into–” an explosion of breath. “–a seizure any minute now!”
Typical. I chuckled at his pain (he tends to exaggerate) and heaved the book up to put it back on the shelf when a Polaroid fell out of the pages. It was a picture of a plaque that said “John’s Hopkins Medical Center.” And underneath it, in italicized script: “The Bragg Wing.”
We all just stared. HUH?
