May 2004 - Philadelphia
It's a bright and sunny morning in the city of brotherly love (Riley doesn't have any brothers, so he can only assume that flipping someone the bird is a particularly brotherly thing to do, as he has already had it happen to him three times), and Riley Poole has a job to do.
He sits on the bench across the street from the Franklin Institute, listening to the traffic on the street in front of him and the birdsong and voices coming from the park behind. He watches the figure of the kid in the public school uniform as he darts down the steps of the Institute and across the road.
The kid gives him the letters (S, S, A, N, D), carefully written down in his little kid handwriting (which, if Riley is being entirely honest, is neater than his own scrawl), copied from the Silence Dogood letters that're on display inside the building.
The kid gets mouthy at him about his handwriting.
Riley pulls a sour face at the kid that has absolutely no effect. "You know what? Here. One more dollar." He slaps the dollar into the kid's hand. "Go get the last four letters. Go get 'em, chief." As the kid runs back across the street, Riley looks at the notes scrawled across the paper in his hand and he mutters to himself. "Come on. Okay. 'The vision to see the treasured past comes as the timely shadow passes in front of the house of pass and' what? 'Pass and' what? 'Pass and'…"
A city bus roars past.
Riley stares at the advertisement on the side of it for a long moment, and then he flies off the bench.
Five minutes later, 11-year-old Marvin Wilmott comes running out of the Franklin Institute-- and stops dead as he sees that the funny man with the glasses is gone. He hops up and down on the sidewalk, craning his neck, looking around, and just as he starts to leave, a tall blond man steps up. He has a funny accent and a $100 bill, and he wants to know what Marvin told the first man. Marvin can't remember, but he does have the last four letters (S-T-O-W), which he hands over, and then he escapes with his prize. He is already concocting the story of how he found $100 to tell his mom.
Ian Howe, on the other hand, is rather busy with Google search.
Ben and Abigail are right where they said they'd be -- Urban Outfitters, picking up clothes that aren't dresses or tuxedos, flirting.
Well, okay, maybe they didn't say they'd be flirting, and maybe he's not sure they were, but he definitely interrupted something when he comes jogging up the stairs, and maybe he disguises with cockiness, the sour taste that it leaves in his mouth.
Either way, they're both all, RILEY DID YOU FIND SOMETHING,
and Riley's all, OKAY, 'THE VISION TO SEE THE TREASURED PAST COMES AS THE TIMELY SHADOW CROSSES IN FRONT OF THE HOUSE OF PASS AND STOW.' NOW, PASS AND STOW MEANS--
and they both interrupt him to say, "The Liberty Bell."
Riley hates being upstaged.
So then they look at the back of a $100 bill, designed by a buddy of Ben Franklin's, because Ben just has to be Mr. History Genius, and because there's an etching of the clock tower on there with a time on the clock, and then some other stuff happens, and the long and short of it is that Riley is right and Ben and Abigail don't know something about history that he knows. Ha! HA! (Ben calls him a genius. Riley glows with puffed-up pride, even when they show him up again shortly.)
Time to hit the Liberty Bell.
Long story short, they're in deep shit.
Ben has the Declaration of Independence's carrying case and these funky x-ray specs that the clue led them to in Independence Hall (apparently where the Liberty Bell is).
Riley and Abigail have the Declaration itself.
They split up. It's never a strategy that works out well in Scooby Doo; Riley doesn't especially want to get attacked by a swamp monster a la Shaggy and Scoob. Still, Ben's the brains here, and what Ben says, goes. So when Ian and his lovely friends showed up at Independence Hall (just as they were debating the next clue: "Heere at the wall" with two e's, whatever the hell that meant) and Ben said, "I’ll take this and those, you take that. Meet me at the car and call me if you have any problems," Riley didn't argue.
He only said, "Like if we get caught and killed?" his face unusually somber, reflecting his extreme misgivings.
Ben's eyes held his for a moment. "Yeah. That would be a big problem. Take care of her."
Abigail, clutching the Declaration tightly, nodded and said, "I will," just as Riley said, "I will." Riley and Abigail stared awkwardly at each other a moment, then both looked away (even if Riley's still pretty sure that Ben meant the girl, not the Declaration). Then it was time to walk out onto the Philly street like nothing was wrong, going their separate ways, but Viktor and Shaw catch on quick and it's only a moment or two before Abigail says his name and Riley says grimly, "Time to run!"
They do.
They run like hell down the street, pushing through pedestrians, and maybe it's stupid of him, maybe it's lame, but he almost likes this. Oh, sure, he's terrified out of his mind, yeah, but -- he doesn't have to think, doesn't have to worry, doesn't have to freak out or plan. He can just run.
The unlikely duo flies into an indoor market. Abigail says something and Riley ignores it, saying, "This way!"
He dives behind a kiosk loudly extolling the virtues of Verizon Wireless, and he only has about a split second to realize that stupid Abigail isn't there, isn't with him anymore, before he spots Viktor. He catches a quick look at the gun tucked into the man's waistband, hidden by his jacket, and he hurriedly ducks back into a clothing shop. He was intending to dart underneath a rack of long coats, the same place he used to hide as a kid when his mom would drag him shopping, but, as ever, fate has a different idea.
He sits on the bench across the street from the Franklin Institute, listening to the traffic on the street in front of him and the birdsong and voices coming from the park behind. He watches the figure of the kid in the public school uniform as he darts down the steps of the Institute and across the road.
The kid gives him the letters (S, S, A, N, D), carefully written down in his little kid handwriting (which, if Riley is being entirely honest, is neater than his own scrawl), copied from the Silence Dogood letters that're on display inside the building.
The kid gets mouthy at him about his handwriting.
Riley pulls a sour face at the kid that has absolutely no effect. "You know what? Here. One more dollar." He slaps the dollar into the kid's hand. "Go get the last four letters. Go get 'em, chief." As the kid runs back across the street, Riley looks at the notes scrawled across the paper in his hand and he mutters to himself. "Come on. Okay. 'The vision to see the treasured past comes as the timely shadow passes in front of the house of pass and' what? 'Pass and' what? 'Pass and'…"
A city bus roars past.
Riley stares at the advertisement on the side of it for a long moment, and then he flies off the bench.
Five minutes later, 11-year-old Marvin Wilmott comes running out of the Franklin Institute-- and stops dead as he sees that the funny man with the glasses is gone. He hops up and down on the sidewalk, craning his neck, looking around, and just as he starts to leave, a tall blond man steps up. He has a funny accent and a $100 bill, and he wants to know what Marvin told the first man. Marvin can't remember, but he does have the last four letters (S-T-O-W), which he hands over, and then he escapes with his prize. He is already concocting the story of how he found $100 to tell his mom.
Ian Howe, on the other hand, is rather busy with Google search.
Ben and Abigail are right where they said they'd be -- Urban Outfitters, picking up clothes that aren't dresses or tuxedos, flirting.
Well, okay, maybe they didn't say they'd be flirting, and maybe he's not sure they were, but he definitely interrupted something when he comes jogging up the stairs, and maybe he disguises with cockiness, the sour taste that it leaves in his mouth.
Either way, they're both all, RILEY DID YOU FIND SOMETHING,
and Riley's all, OKAY, 'THE VISION TO SEE THE TREASURED PAST COMES AS THE TIMELY SHADOW CROSSES IN FRONT OF THE HOUSE OF PASS AND STOW.' NOW, PASS AND STOW MEANS--
and they both interrupt him to say, "The Liberty Bell."
Riley hates being upstaged.
So then they look at the back of a $100 bill, designed by a buddy of Ben Franklin's, because Ben just has to be Mr. History Genius, and because there's an etching of the clock tower on there with a time on the clock, and then some other stuff happens, and the long and short of it is that Riley is right and Ben and Abigail don't know something about history that he knows. Ha! HA! (Ben calls him a genius. Riley glows with puffed-up pride, even when they show him up again shortly.)
Time to hit the Liberty Bell.
Long story short, they're in deep shit.
Ben has the Declaration of Independence's carrying case and these funky x-ray specs that the clue led them to in Independence Hall (apparently where the Liberty Bell is).
Riley and Abigail have the Declaration itself.
They split up. It's never a strategy that works out well in Scooby Doo; Riley doesn't especially want to get attacked by a swamp monster a la Shaggy and Scoob. Still, Ben's the brains here, and what Ben says, goes. So when Ian and his lovely friends showed up at Independence Hall (just as they were debating the next clue: "Heere at the wall" with two e's, whatever the hell that meant) and Ben said, "I’ll take this and those, you take that. Meet me at the car and call me if you have any problems," Riley didn't argue.
He only said, "Like if we get caught and killed?" his face unusually somber, reflecting his extreme misgivings.
Ben's eyes held his for a moment. "Yeah. That would be a big problem. Take care of her."
Abigail, clutching the Declaration tightly, nodded and said, "I will," just as Riley said, "I will." Riley and Abigail stared awkwardly at each other a moment, then both looked away (even if Riley's still pretty sure that Ben meant the girl, not the Declaration). Then it was time to walk out onto the Philly street like nothing was wrong, going their separate ways, but Viktor and Shaw catch on quick and it's only a moment or two before Abigail says his name and Riley says grimly, "Time to run!"
They do.
They run like hell down the street, pushing through pedestrians, and maybe it's stupid of him, maybe it's lame, but he almost likes this. Oh, sure, he's terrified out of his mind, yeah, but -- he doesn't have to think, doesn't have to worry, doesn't have to freak out or plan. He can just run.
The unlikely duo flies into an indoor market. Abigail says something and Riley ignores it, saying, "This way!"
He dives behind a kiosk loudly extolling the virtues of Verizon Wireless, and he only has about a split second to realize that stupid Abigail isn't there, isn't with him anymore, before he spots Viktor. He catches a quick look at the gun tucked into the man's waistband, hidden by his jacket, and he hurriedly ducks back into a clothing shop. He was intending to dart underneath a rack of long coats, the same place he used to hide as a kid when his mom would drag him shopping, but, as ever, fate has a different idea.