Leonardo da Vinci: Renaissance Master Read Online Free PDF Page B

about the letter he mailed to Lily Goldberg in Cleveland last night. Part of him wished he hadn’t mailed it. The other part wished she’d answer back as soon as she got it.
    â€œOur father studied art in Florence when he was in college,” Maisie said to Jim Duncan.
    She wasn’t really listening, either. She was thinking about how yesterday their father came to Elm Medona after they finished their homework and brought them out to the Thai place on Thames Street for dinner. She was thinking about how much she liked having her father so near.
    Maybe Mom would like some Thai food, too?
she’d suggested as they walked down Memorial Boulevard.
    She has to work late,
he’d said, and Maisie couldn’t figure out if he was sad about that or not.
    And of course, underneath these thoughts, Maisie and Felix both couldn’t stop thinking about Great-Uncle Thorne.
    â€œI was only seven,” Jim Duncan said. “But I remember some things. Like how hot it was in the Uffizi and how big the
David
is.”
    â€œUh-huh,” Felix said, to be polite. He knew the
David
was a sculpture by Michelangelo, because his father had a big book about Michelangelo with the
David
on the cover.
    â€œThe Uffizi’s a huge museum,” Jim Duncan said. He sighed. “It took practically forever to go through the thing.”
    Felix smiled, despite how heavy his heart felt. Jim Duncan had a way of telling him things without sounding like a know-it-all.
    â€œHey,” Jim Duncan said, “I forgot to tell you. Guess who was in Newport this weekend?”
    Felix shrugged.
    â€œLily Goldberg!” Jim Duncan said. “I saw her and her mother on Bowen’s Wharf at the chowder place. I guess they had to finish up something about selling their house.”
    â€œWhat?” Felix said. “She was here?”
    Jim Duncan immediately realized his mistake. “Well, maybe it wasn’t her.”
    â€œDid you talk to her?”
    â€œWell, maybe.”
    â€œI can’t believe she was in Newport and didn’t even tell me. I mean, us,” Felix said, images of that letter crowding his brain. He thought about how carefully he’d written out her address, how he’d melted the red sealing wax on the back and pressed the seal into it.
    Felix groaned. “I can’t believe it,” he said again.
    Anne Hutchinson Elementary School appeared up ahead. Felix didn’t think he could make it through the whole day at school. How could he listen to Ms. Silva and Miss Landers and everybody talking about the Renaissance while that stupid letter was on its way to Cleveland?
    â€œI . . . I think I’m going to turn around,” Felix said.
    â€œWhat does that mean?” Maisie asked him.
    â€œIt means I think I’m going to go home. I think I’m sick.”
    â€œYou can’t just go home,” Maisie said. “You at least have to go to the nurse and have her call Mom.”
    â€œI’ll walk you to the nurse,” Jim Duncan offered. By the look on his face, Felix could tell how awful he felt.
    â€œNo, it’s okay. Thanks,” Felix stammered. “I’m just going to go home.”
    Maisie and Jim looked at each other.
    â€œWell . . . ,” Jim said, because he didn’t know what to say.
    â€œAre you going to throw up or something?” Maisie asked.
    â€œYes,” Felix lied, and clutched his stomach to be convincing.
    â€œThen let us walk you to the nurse,” Maisie insisted. “She’ll take your temperature and let you lie down.”
    Of course that was the sensible thing to do. But Felix could not walk another step toward school. Without saying anything more, he turned around and began to run in the opposite direction. He wondered if that letter was already in some post office in Cleveland. Once, when he was in first grade, they’d gone on a field trip to the main post office on Eighth Avenue, and