Cymatium Rubeculum

One sunny afternoon, Mike decided he’d had enough of hanging around trying to spy on the Girls Club. He wandered down to the bicycle shop to see if he could get involved with anything interesting. There was nobody at all in the repair shop and not much going on elsewhere, so he sat down in the rickety beach chair on the front porch of the bike shop and just watched the street.

Pretty soon Mike saw a funny looking character come wheeling up the street on a rusty bike. The fellow was dressed in clothing of a nearly uniform shade of grubby brown, clothing that appeared to have been some other color originally. He pulled the old, creaky bike up to the bicycle shop and peered inside.

Mike knew that there was nobody inside the shop, so he stood up and walked over to the newcomer. “Hello,” he said, “Are you looking for anybody in particular?”

The grubby fellow thrust something into Mike’s hand and muttered, “Gertrude Bell, Hittyville.” He then turned around, hopped onto his bike and creaked away toward the town harbor.

Mike was very puzzled. He looked at what was in his hand. It was a beautiful red and white shell. Mike followed the bicycle tracks out to the harbor and saw a grubby brown sloop, laden with barnacles, the rusty bike tied on deck, sailing out to sea.

Mike knocked on the door to the harbormaster’s office.

“Come in”

“Say,” said Mike, “Who was the fellow on that brown sailboat?”

“Oh that was old Philippe. He sails into harbor every few years, loads up on supplies and sails away. He spends most of his time in the Philippines but he sails in here every few years to pick up his mail. We always save it for him in case there’s word from his family or something.”

“Does he have family around here?” asked Mike, hoping to find out who this Gertrude person might be. He had an idea he should get the beautiful shell to her.

“Oh,” said the harbormaster, “I don’t think so. Never heard him mention any and nobody ever comes to visit him when he’s in port.”

Mike scratched his head. “He just gave me this” Mike held out the shell “and muttered something about somebody named Gertrude. I thought I ought to take the shell to her or something.”

The harbormaster looked at the shell and let out a low whistle. “That’s a beauty for sure. Cymatium Rebeculum.”

“What?” Asked Mike.

“Cymatium Rebeculum. It’s a shell found in the Philippines. That’s a particularly spectacular specimen. He must be sending it to Hitty Gertrude Bell. They were in love years ago but they were so busy traveling that they never could spend much time together. I heard that she has recently settled down in Pennsylvania somewhere and started a museum. Maybe he means for her to put that shell in her museum.”

Mike looked at the shell for a long time then he looked across the water at the small brown speck that was all he could see of Old Philippe and his brown sloop.

Mike gave a big sigh for all the wonderful stories he was not going to hear from Old Philippe this year. He took the shell home and wrapped it carefully in brown paper. Then he put it in a padded envelope and addressed it to his best guess:

Hitty Gertrude Bell

Hittyville Museum

Hittyville, Pensylvania

USA

He put several stamps on the envelope and tossed it into the mail slot with another sigh.

Then he returned to the bicycle shop to sit on the old beach chair and think about the adventures that always seemed to choose somebody else to happen to.