“It’s marvelous. I can see why children will love it.”
Arabella gave a start. “Ooh, you haven’t even seen it in action! Have you got another minute?”
“Sure,” I said, mystified.
“Jason?” Arabella called out. “Can you switch on the circuit for the active displays?”
“No problem, Mrs. H.” One of the painters-the one who’d waved-made his way through the animals and opened a concealed wall panel I hadn’t even noticed. I could hear the click of a breaker.
After a few seconds, Arabella called out, “Jason, dear? Nothing is happening.” She turned to me. “Harriet’s eyes are supposed to light up when the power is on. And then when you pat her, her ears swivel forward, to show that she likes you.”
I stared at Harriet, who remained resolutely still. I wondered what hedgehogs really did to show any kind of emotion. The only thing I could recall about them was that they curled up in a ball when they were frightened, leaving their spines facing out to deter their enemies. I kind of envied them: there were days when I would like to do something like that.
Jason was still flipping switches, but nothing was happening. “Maybe the problem is on this end? Could you come take a look?” Arabella asked. “I really want Nell to see what Harriet does.”
“Sure thing.” Jason ambled toward us. Up close he turned out to be a nice-looking young man-well, young by my standards, which put him in his early twenties. He was wearing stained painter’s coveralls, clearly several sizes too big.
“Jason, this is Nell Pratt, from the Pennsylvania Antiquarian Society. Nell, Jason is my daughter Caitlin’s boyfriend. He’s helping us out here with some of the last-minute things.”
Jason nodded to me and said shyly, “Hi.” Then he turned his full attention to Harriet, sitting obstinately dark and mute.
Jason got down on his knees to see if the concealed wires were connected. Apparently they were, so he moved on up to Harriet’s head, which grinned silently, her ears unmoving. He reached out and patted Harriet’s shiny black nose. Nothing happened. Jason looked confused, and Arabella looked crestfallen. I felt sorry for her: she had been so excited about showing off her charming new toy to me, and it appeared to be a dud.
“Jason, dear, could you try Willy? Maybe then we’ll know if it’s just one of the figures or the whole group.”
“Sure, Arabella.” Jason straightened up and approached a second figure a few feet away. Taller than Harriet, this one sported a smarmy grin and sprouted a lot of whiskers. He was leaning over with an elbow on an old- fashioned metal gate, which put his head within easy reach of small children. The placement of his body also prevented anyone from climbing on the low gate, which was no doubt the intention of the designer.
“That’s Willy the Weasel,” Arabella explained. “He’s supposed to…”
When Jason reached out and tweaked Willy’s nose, there was a sharp snap or crackle or pop, and all the lights in the room went out.
“Oh my!” Arabella squeaked. “
It wasn’t the only thing that wasn’t supposed to happen. Jason had dropped like a stone at Willy’s feet, and I crossed the space in a second, kneeling beside him. “Arabella, call 911!” I said. “Does anyone have a flashlight?”
Since I had been closest to Jason, I figured I’d better take charge. I didn’t know how Arabella would react in an emergency-for all I knew she might succumb to an attack of the vapors. I felt for Jason’s carotid artery. At least, I think I did-I was going solely by what I’d seen on a lot of TV shows. I groped around until I found what I thought- and hoped-was a pulse. I forced myself to take a deep breath and stop shaking. Yes, it was a pulse-faint and thready, but there. Jason wasn’t dead, thank God, but I had no idea how close to it he was.
“Has anyone called 911 yet?” I hollered. “Tell them we need an ambulance!’
“They’re on their way.” The other worker approached, slipping a cell phone back under his coveralls. “What the hell happened? Is he…?”
“He was fiddling with the weasel and something seems to have shorted out.” That summed up all I knew.
“And whatever he did completed the circuit,” the man said. “I’m an electrician. Joe Murphy. I was just helping out with the painting ’cause the wiring was pretty much done. But I swear to God, we checked out all the connections, up one side and down the other! No way this should have happened. He gonna be all right?”
How was I supposed to know? Jason didn’t look any better: he was pale and breathing shallowly, and showed no signs of waking up.
I was startled when Arabella said, “Don’t touch anything,” in a calm, clear voice. “We don’t know if the circuit’s still live. You, too, Joe-just leave it alone until we can figure out what happened. Luckily Jason fell clear of it, or you might have been shocked, too, Nell.”
I hadn’t even considered that, in my hurry to reach Jason, but she was right. I sat back on my heels. “Should we cover him or something?”
“Good idea. If he’s in shock he’ll be losing body heat. Hand me one of those tarps, will you, Joe?”
Joe swooped down and bundled up a tarp. He and Arabella together laid it carefully over Jason’s nearly still form.
“Is the power out throughout the building?” I asked. I thought I could see lights coming from the open stairwell.
“Shouldn’t be,” Arabella said. “We installed a separate circuit for the exhibition this time around, since we had the walls open anyway, and we knew the electrified animals would draw a lot of power. But we went over the plans more times than I can count! There should have been no way that this could happen. The codes for this sort of exhibit are very strict, and of course we’ve had every inspection the city requires. It would be devastating if anything happened to a child. Not that it should happen to anyone.”
I felt a sense of relief. Gone was the fluffy Arabella, replaced by a competent leader, and I was happy to let her take charge.
“Mother, are you up here?” A female voice drifted from the front of the building. “What’s going on with the lights?”
Arabella stood up abruptly and headed for the sheeting that hid the exhibit. “Darling, don’t…” She was too late to intercept the young woman, who pushed the sheets aside and then shoved past her mother. “What…?” She took in the scene-me squatting next to prostrate Jason, Joe standing anxiously behind, all of us in the dark-and then she wailed, “Oh, no! No! Jason!” Despite her mother’s restraining hand, she rushed over to Jason and knelt down beside me. She reached out to touch him-his face, not his pulse. “Jason, wake up, please!” Then she looked at me, her eyes filled with tears. “Is he…?”
“I think he’s had a bad electrical shock, but he’s breathing,” I said. “We’ve called for an ambulance.”
She kept her hand on Jason. “Who are you? Do I know you?”
“I’m Nell Pratt, from the Pennsylvania Antiquarian Society. You’re Arabella’s daughter?” When she nodded, I explained, “Your mother invited me to preview the exhibit.”
“Oh.” She lost interest in me and turned back to Jason.
Arabella had caught up with her, and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Caitlin, darling, come away. Help is coming.”
Once again Caitlin threw off her mother’s hand. “No. I’m staying with Jason. I want to be sure he’s all right. What happened?” Her gaze swiveled wildly between her mother, me, and Joe.
Arabella and I exchanged a glance. I wasn’t sure that Jason was going to be all right-shouldn’t he be conscious by now? But I wasn’t going to say anything to make this situation any worse. I was relieved to hear the sound of an approaching siren.
“We don’t know yet, Caitlin. Joe, can you go down and let them in, and bring them up here, please?” Arabella asked.
Joe, looking relieved at having something to do, said, “Sure,” and headed quickly for the stairs.
I stood up, since Caitlin had taken over the task of watching Jason breathe.
Arabella noticed my movement. “You don’t have to stay, Nell,” she said.
“Maybe I should, since I was here when this happened,” I told her. “In case the police have any questions.”
Arabella looked bewildered. “Why would the police have any questions? Something must have gone wrong with the wiring. It was an accident.”
Was it? Any hint of carelessness could do serious damage to the reputation of Let’s Play. What if it was
