about Pimâs past. She might even know something that would help him.
âWell, I think we should go,â she said. âYou donât give me any answers about where you come from. Maybe she has some.â
âNot all questions are meant to be answered, Claudia.â
A shout came from the floor below. âDinnertime!â
âWell, you can stay home if you want,â she said. âBut Iâm going to see Granny Custos.â
Â
C HAPTER 4
âG RANDPA, SLOW DOWN!â The cool spring breeze chilled Claudiaâs face as she hurried to catch up.
Grandpa glanced back at her. âYou donât want to be late, do you? Didnât he say seven oâclock sharp?â
She sprinted, her yellow backpack flopping on her back, until she was even with him. He had seemed tired and reluctant to go out with her when she had asked him after dinner. But when she mentioned that Mr. Custos wanted to introduce her to his grandma, Grandpa practically pushed her out the door.
âDo you know Granny Custos?â she asked as they charged down the sidewalk.
âKnow her? I should say so! She and I knew each other very well when I was younger. Very well indeed. Itâs been years since Iâve seen her, though. You know, she was quite the artist at one point in time. More talent and knowledge of art history than Salâer, Mr. Custosâhas, thatâs for sure. I had thought of introducing you myself one of these days. I guess Sal beat me to it. Still, you could learn a lot from her.â
Breathless, she followed Grandpa up one street and down another through the neighborhoods. Eventually they came to a part of town where the architecture was tall and cramped, and the paint on many houses was peeling. Finally they stopped in front of a Victorian with steeply pitched roofs reaching toward a soaring turret. Her grandpa glanced at the outer gate and pulled a bow tie from his pocket, which he clipped onto his buttoned shirt.
âA bow tie, Grandpa?â
He paused and pursed his lips before ushering her through the gate toward the front door. Clearing his throat, he gave the door a solid knock.
She brought down the backpack from her shoulders. Her worries from the park surfaced again. What would happen when Mr. Custos pointed out the boy in her painting? Would everyone try to take it away from her?
The door opened, revealing an old woman in a thick and expansive woolen shawl. The shawl enveloped her body down to the ankles, allowing her head and arms to protrude like those of a tortoise. Her silver hair had mostly fallen out of its bun and swirled in loose wisps around her head. The womanâs olive skin didnât seem nearly as wrinkled as Claudia expected of someone everybody called âGranny.â
She stood upright with a slight hunch, her hand resting on the edge of the door. Her eyes were the deep brown of chocolate on candy bar commercials, melted and swirled into confectionary perfection. She stared at Claudia. Claudia shifted her feet but forced herself to return the old womanâs gaze. She couldnât put her finger on it, but there was something powerful about this woman.
â Mi estrellita , itâs so good to see you again,â Grandpa said. He moved forward to give the woman a besito on the cheek, but she held up a hand.
âYou,â she said, âsit.â She pointed to a swing hanging from the porch roof off to the side of the front door. âAnd wait.â
Grandpa looked as though he was about to argue, but then his shoulders slumped and he nodded. He skulked toward the porch swing as the old woman grabbed Claudiaâs arm and yanked her through the door. It slammed closed behind them.
Claudia tried to turn back to the door. âBut what about myââ
âZoot, zoot!â Granny Custos poked Claudia in front of her and shooed her forward, as though clearing chickens from the yard. They passed down a narrow hallway and