The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons, 16th October, 1834 - Chapter 1
Chapter 1: Several Months Later
“Are you going to the college to see Peter today?” Mrs. Powell asked. “I wish you would wait for him to come home instead of going over there every day.”
“It’s not that far away,” Neal replied as he continued to pack his supplies into his backpack. “I’ve been to further places on my own. Besides, it’s still early afternoon and Peter will be walking with me on the way back.”
“Still, we want to look after you and I’m not too happy with you going by yourself,” Mrs. Powell said. She wrung her fingers as she talked; a nervous habit that she often employed when talking with Neal.
“Don’t worry about it,” Neal said. He finished shoving his snack into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “I’ll be home for dinner, Mrs. Powell.”
“Call me Darla, dear,” Mrs. Powell said. She looked on, helplessly, as Neal left the house. Neal turned back and gave her a smile before continuing on. They went through that routine that happened every time he went to see Peter at the college, and so far nothing had happened to Neal.
It had be several months since Neal had come to stay with the Powells and after a while they had relaxed their stance on whether or not Neal could leave the house on his own. When he had first come, he had to have Peter escort him everywhere, which led to jail breaks on Neal’s behalf. Finally, after seeing that he wasn't being harmed by being on his own in the small town, the Powells allowed Neal to go out to several specific places on his own. The college was one of those places.
Peter had class for most of the day on the weekends, getting out later than Neal’s classes. They saw each other on the weekend, but Neal actually found himself enjoying Peter’s presence, so he often searched Peter out at the college. There he would hang out at the college, with or without Peter, before walking back with the older boy. Neal still thought that Peter was crazy for wanting to hang out with someone years younger than him, but he liked Peter well enough to humor him.
Peter’s college was only a couple of blocks away from where they lived, so it didn't take Neal long to walk there. He wandered through the campus, slowly making his way over to where Peter had his last class. He reached the classroom minutes before the class ended and he leaned against the wall opposite the classroom door to wait.
He pulled out a comic book while he waited and flipped through the pages. He had just reached the battle scene when the door opened and streams of students left the room. He closed the comic book and watched for Peter to leave the room. Most of the students left, but Peter wasn't one of them.
Neal frowned as he shoved the comic book back into his backpack. He then stepped forward and let himself into the classroom. He brightened up when he saw that Peter was talking to one of the professors and settled back against the wall to wait once more. He was willing to be patient for Peter, but he wanted to make sure that he wasn't left behind. Peter looked up at that moment and motioned for Neal to come over. Neal pushed off of the wall and headed over to where Peter and the professor were at the front of the room.
"This is Neal, my neighbor," Peter introduced as Neal approached. "Neal, this is my professor, Professor Albright."
"Nice to meet you," Neal said. "Peter says good things about your class."
"It's nice to meet you, too," Professor Albright said.
"Would it be all right if Neal comes with us to your office?" Peter asked. He then turned to Neal. "Professor Albright has something to give me, so I need to go pick it up."
"That will be fine, I won't take you too long," Professor Albright said. "This way."
Professor Albright motioned towards the door before he started walking, leaving the two boys to follow him. Peter motioned for Neal to walk first and then he followed behind Neal. While they walked, Neal took his time watching the Professor in front of him. Peter had said some very interesting things about the Professor in Peter's art class, how the professor was an expert on art. It was interesting, though, something was pinging on Neal's radar and he wondered what it was. There was just something off about the man, something that didn't seem to fit the usual view of a professor.
He walked too quietly, Neal decided as they walked down the corridors. And he paid attention too much to his surroundings. It made him very suspicious in Neal's eyes. Of course, that didn't really make much of a difference, it wasn't like Neal could do anything about it, or that he had to do anything about it. But this Professor was an interesting puzzle, Neal decided, and one that he would like to crack.
He could feel Peter's eyes on him and he turned back to offer Peter an innocent look. If Peter knew what Neal was planning, Peter would shut Neal down within seconds, not even listening to what Neal really wanted to do. It was just some fun, but Peter had a very strict view on what a person should be doing, probably why the Powells asked Peter to look over Neal instead of anyone else. Robert, the kid on the other side of the Powells was entirely too relaxed and stayed up all night doing random things, mostly drinking and smoking cigarettes with his friends. Neal had gotten curious and followed the boy one night, which made him wonder why Mrs. Powell freaked out so much. Compared to the city, this town was dead at all times, which meant that there was no problem for Neal.
Peter gave him a suspicious look in response to the innocent look given to him, but he didn't seem to be too worried and he focused back on his professor.
"So what's this thing that your professor wants to give you?" Neal asked as he dropped back to where Peter was walking to walk alongside him. "Why does he want to give it to you in the office?"
"It's just some paperwork that he wants me to do, in order to go to a museum trip or something like that," Peter said. "He thinks that I have talent in art."
"Art appreciation, maybe," Neal said. "I've seen your drawings, after all, and there's no way that you have talent there."
"I have yet to see you draw anything and until I do, you're not allowed to comment on mine,” Peter said. Something that he had come up with the last time Neal had scoffed at Peter's art. Neal smiled in return this time around, as he had always refused to draw anything for Peter. It was more fun to be smug when Peter didn't know about his talent in art. He figured that he would build everything up until he would finally let Peter see how good he was. Of course, he knew that he was just a kid, but he still thought that he was definitely better than the nineteen year old.
"So how do you like staying here, Neal?" Professor Albright asked. "I've heard that you're a foster kid staying with the Powells?"
"That's right," Neal said. He resisted the urge to scowl, knowing that it would get him into more trouble than a smile. "I like it here; it's a pretty good town."
"Isn't it? Not much goes on here, there are only a few points of interest here, but it still is a good place to be," Professor Albright said. He offered them a smile as he motioned towards his office. "Please, go in. Peter, I'll go pick up that form for you, so you can stay right here and wait."
"Okay, Professor Albright," Peter said as he entered the room, ushering Neal in with him.
Professor Albright left without another word and Neal looked around the room in interest. Peter went over to the sofa and sat down, waiting patiently like the good guy he was. Neal stayed standing, still inspecting the office.
"Sit down, Neal, and be careful not to bump into anything," Peter said. He patted the sofa with his hand, seriously expecting Neal to follow his order.
Neal rolled his eyes at Peter and remained standing. "I'm not touching anything, I'm just looking. It's interesting." He figured that Peter would probably think that the interesting thing was being in a college professor's office, but that didn't really impress Neal. Instead, he liked all of the art books and everything else that filled the office. Finally, the painting caught his eye.
Hung up behind the couch, behind Peter, was a painting that stretched along the wall. It was interesting, since there weren’t any other paintings in the room, but Neal supposed that having one painting in an art professor’s room wasn't that unusual. Still, it caught his eye and he started over to where the couch was.
Peter sighed in relief as Neal started towards him. “I’m glad that you’ve decided to finally listen and sit down.”
“Uhhuh,” Neal muttered, ignoring Peter as he clambered onto the couch. He kneeled there and peered up at the painting.
“Neal, get off of the couch,” Peter said, tugging at Neal’s shirt.
“What? First you want me to sit down and then you tell me to get off,” Neal said. He looked down at Peter. “You really should make up your mind.”
“I meant for you to sit properly,” Peter said.
“I want to look at the painting,” Neal said. He traced the lines of the painting with his eyes. “Besides, why do you really care what this man thinks? He has nothing to do with your major, right? You’re just taking the class for the credits.”
“You shouldn't be talking about those things already,” Peter said. “And you shouldn't be kneeling on the couch, even if you want to see the painting.”
“I need to be close to it in order to tell,” Neal said. He reached out and gently touched the painting, confirming one more thing.
“Neal,” Peter hissed, reaching up once more.
A sound outside caught Neal’s ear and he quickly sat down properly. He smiled up at Peter. “You were saying?”
Peter opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Professor Albright entered the room. Peter’s mouth clicked closed at that, not wanting to let his professor know of Neal's behavior in his office.
“Here’s the form, all you have to do is fill this out and return it to me,” Professor Albright said as he handed the papers over to Peter.
“Thank you,” Peter replied. “I’ll get it to you by next class.”
“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” Professor Albright said. “Especially your young friend.”
“I didn’t mind,” Neal piped in. “You’re office is fascinating to look at.”
“Thank you,” Professor Albright said.
“I think the painting is cool,” Neal said. “Can you tell me about it?”
“Ah, that is a copy of a famous painting, Joseph Mallord William Turner’s ‘The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons, 16th October, 1834.’ It’s an oil painting that was done in 1835,” Professor Albright said. He looked at the painting with a proud look. “On October 16, 1834, Turner witnessed a fire that burnt down most of the Palace of Westminster. He made a watercolor sketch at the time, which he used as the base for other, larger paintings. This is only one of several paintings that Turner made.”
“So what about it do you like?” Neal asked, eying the painting once more.
“It’s masterfully done, isn’t it? And the colors are wonderful, as well as the way that the painting is framed,” Professor Albright said. “It has always caught my eye, which is why I made this copy.”
“You are the one who painted this?” Neal asked. He blinked in surprise as he turned to Professor Albright.
“That is right,” Professor Albright said. “I thought about buying several copies, but they just never had the right feel.”
“It does have a great texture,” Neal said. “You’re a great artist.”
“Thank you,” Professor Albright said. “And in a couple of weeks we will be able to see the original with our very eyes.”
“What do you mean by that?” Neal asked.
“The paperwork that Professor Albright wanted me to fill out is for a class trip to the Philadelphia Museum of Art,” Peter answered.
“It’s unfortunate that it is only for people in my current case, or I would allow you to come along,” Professor Albright said. “Seeing how interested you were in this painting.”
Neal shrugged. “That’s okay, I’ve been there before.”
“Really?” Professor Albright asked.
“I just never noticed this painting before, although I saw a bunch of other neat paintings,” Neal said. He smiled at them and put his hands behind his head. “I lived in Philadelphia once before, near the museum.”
“Is that so,” Professor Albright said. “Well, in any case, it was good meeting you, Neal. I hope that the two of you have a nice day.”
“You too, Professor Albright,” Peter replied. He grabbed a hold of Neal's shoulders and propelled him out of the office. Neal thought about resisting, especially as they walked down the corridor and out of the building, but he decided not to. He dropped his arms, though and got comfortable.
Peter waited until they were off of the campus and at a nearby park before he let Neal go.
“Why are we stopping here for?” Neal asked.
“What was up with you in Professor Albrights’ office?” Peter asked, crossing his arms as he looked down at Neal.
Neal gave Peter an innocent look. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve known you long enough to tell that you are up to something. What was with all of those questions?” Peter asked. He narrowed his eyes. “What is your interest in that painting?”
“Well, it’s not every day that you see the original The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons, 16th October, 1834 in a mere college professor’s office,” Neal said, nonchalantly. He glanced down at his sneakers, wondering whether he should wipe them down when he got home. They were a bit scuffed after all. Meanwhile, he could hear the choked noises that Peter was making while he processed Neal’s words and tone.
“What are you talking about?” Peter finally asked. “Professor Albright said that it was copy that he painted himself.”
“No, I’m pretty sure that it’s real,” Neal said. “I mean, I have seen The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons, 16th October, 1834 before.”
“You said that you never noticed that painting before,” Peter said.
“Exactly,” Neal replied, holding his finger up.
“So you were lying when you said that?” Peter asked, as he frowned at Neal.
“No, I didn't lie,” Neal said. He hid a grin at the look on Peter’s face, knowing that he chanced a noogie or something if Peter saw it. “I’ll explain it to you, now.”
“What did you mean?” Peter asked. He glared at Neal, tempting him to try stalling again.
“I did see the painting at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, I saw all of the paintings that the Museum had, even the ones not on display,” Neal said. He ignored the look that Peter gave him for that confession. “But it wasn’t really one that caught my eye, so I wasn't lying there. I was just very selective about what I said.”
“Why do that, though?” Peter asked. “Why can't you just tell Professor Albright that you saw the original in the museum?”
“Because I also saw the original in his office,” Neal said, going back to the original topic of the conversation. He approached a bench and sat down, waiting for Peter to also sit down.
Peter remained standing, staring down at Neal. “He said that it was a copy, why would you think that it was the original?”
“Because I saw the original at the museum, so I recognized it when I saw it in his office,” Neal said. “He might have done a copy of the painting, a lot of artists do mimic the paintings that they are fond of when they are first starting out and even after they get good, but that is not a copy that is hanging in his office.”
“And how do you know that?” Peter asked. “And don’t say it’s because you saw the original in the museum again.”
“Well, it's true,” Neal said, pouting slightly. “It didn’t catch my attention as something I was interested in, but I still took the time to see how it was painted. The paint itself and the way that it’s applied. It’s all very distinctive and something that isn't that easy to do. It caught my eye when I entered the office and, as I investigated, I Saw that it was the same as what I saw in the museum.”
“But still, my professor is not a thief,” Peter said. “He’s worked at the college for several years without any problems. He’s a really good artist, celebrated among his community, isn't there a possibility that he painted a copy that is as good as the original?”
“I couldn’t’ tell you that without seeing his works,” Neal said with a shrug. “But I know what I know.”
“Besides, if the painting was stolen, then wouldn’t it be all over the news?” Peter asked. He crossed is arms and gave Neal a smug look.
“Well, if he’s as good as you say, then there is a possibility that the painting hasn't been discovered missing,” Neal said. “Or it could be that they know it’s missing and haven’t advertised the fact. They could be looking for it now without ever alerting the media. The FBI will probably handle that and they aren't that fond of letting people know what they are doing.”
“I suppose that’s right,” Peter said, shooting Neal a look. “But I still don’t believe that Professor Albright is a thief.”
“Then why don't we check it out?” Neal asked. “If the painting in Professor Albright’s office is the original painting, then what is hanging in the Philadelphia Museum of Art?”
“You want to go check it out?” Peter asked. “Philadelphia’s a while away from here.”
“So we’ll go during the weekend, when both of us aren't going to be expected back for a while,” Neal said with a shrug. He grinned at Peter. “Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”
Peter sighed. “I’ll figure out all out and prove to you that Professor Albright isn’t a thief.”
“Then let’s get home, it’s almost time for dinner,” Neal said, neatly changing the subject. He hopped off of the park bench and led the way home.
Prologue // Chapter 2