The Siblinghood of Art

by Jack Pagano, age 10
The Siblinghood of Art

“‘This column was carved in 3000 B.C.E,’ the tour guide responded. ‘This column will be moving to the Natural History Museum in D.C. in two days, so please come and see it before it’s gone,’ he said. ‘I’m so sad,’ said Nat. ‘I love this column.’ ‘Well, I do not care. This is boring. Can we go see the painting of George Washington crossing the Delaware?’ Sam asked.”

One morning, in New York City, my two friends and I were in the Met for a field trip. My friends, Sam, Nat, and I went to the Greek and Roman god section of the museum. There, we saw an enormous column that was fascinating.

“Sir,” I asked the tour guide. “When was this column made?”

“This column was carved in 3000 B.C.E,” the tour guide responded. “This column will be moving to the Natural History Museum in D.C. in two days, so please come and see it before it’s gone,” he said.

“I’m so sad,” said Nat. “I love this column.”

“Well, I do not care. This is boring. Can we go see the painting of George Washington crossing the Delaware?” Sam asked.

“No, the Gods are important. They started life,” I exclaimed.  

After two hours of looking at ancient relics, we had to go back to the bus. On the bus, we talked about the column.

“Did you know that the column is from the Hellenistic period?” Nat asked.

“No, I didn’t. That’s cool,” I said to the short, glasses-wearing, attractive Natalie.  

“Blah blah blah. Stupid info. Yankees trivia please,” said Sam.

“What is it with you and the Yankees?” I asked the tall, blond, and pretty Sam.

“It’s true love,” said Sam.

“I don’t think she even knows what true love is,” said Nat.  

“Nat, be nice to your sister,” I told her.

After we got off the bus, I went home. I had a lot of homework.

At dinner, in our small town house on Broadway, my mom and I had pasta and sausage, my favorite. We talked about the Met and the awesome column.

“So is the column tall?” Mom asked me.

“Yep, 361 cm tall,” I said.

“Ha, ha, ha,” Mom laughed.

“About eleven feet tall,” I clarified. “I’m tired, Mom. I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, sugar plum, night night.”

The next day flew by like a cheetah. Math was fun, social studies was boring, and music was great. The sisters also argued over the best chick flick, not my thing. Instead, I talked with Alex about Marvel movies.

“You know Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. two is coming out.” Alex told me.


“Did you know that a column from the Met is moving to D.C. tomorrow?” I asked Alex.

“No, but that’s boring,” he said.

I thought about what Alex said. Myths were the only thing I had to read when I grew up. My dad got me the Percy Jackson books when I was eight. Then he died. That’s why I loved them.

I couldn’t wait for the day to end. I called the girls so we could talk about the column.

“Yo, guys, the column is leaving tonight.”


“Was that Nat or Sam?” I asked them.

“What do you think? Obviously, Nat,” said Sam.

“Okay, I have to go to bed. Bye.”

“See you tomorrow,” Nat said.

After eating green eggs and ham, I went to see the news on my phone. The first headline was “Breaking News: The Marble column from the Temple of Artemis at Sardis was stolen last night when en route to the National History Museum in Washington D.C.”  

I must call the sisters, I thought.

“Did you hear…” I started to say.

“WWWHHHYYYY!” yelled Nat.

“Okay, drama queen, what’s wrong?” I talked over the loud crying.

“It’s… it’s gone. We lost the column!”

“Well, I’m glad,” Sam said snarkily. “Waste of space.”

“We are going to find the column,” I demanded.

“Did you watch Finding Mary Mcguffin from Phineas and Ferb?” Nat asked me.


Pink Panther?

“No, I just think that we should find it.”

“Okay. Let’s do it,” Nat said enthusiastically.

“If she goes, I will go,” Sam said.

After school, let’s find some clues!” I exclaimed.    

At school, I told them what to do.

“First, we need to get to the Met. There will be clues there.”

“Um, why will there be clues?” Sam asked.

“If the thief wants money, then he would send a ransom note to the museum.”

“Okay. Let’s go.” the girls cheered.

When we got there, we walked to the empty exhibit. We saw a piece of paper on the marble floor.

“To pick up the paper or not to pick up the paper, that is the question.” Nat said.

“What do you think?” I asked her.

Sam grabbed the paper and gave it to me.

“Well, read it,” Sam said.

It read:  

Ares was banished

Banished to Richard Rogers

He got money there


“That’s a haiku.” I said.  

“Yeah, but who is this Richard Rogers.”

“Richard Rogers…” I thought out loud.

“Eureka, I got it! The Richard Rogers theater!” Sam yelled.

“You’re right, Sam. Good work, Einstein.”

“Tomorrow, after school, we’ll meet at R and R theater.”

“Cool,” the girls said.

School went by as fast as lighting. At home, I told Mom I was going to see the sisters. The lie worked. We walked to the theater and tried to get in.

“The door’s locked, guys,” Sam yelled to me and Nat.

“Let’s look for a secret door,” I told them.

We walked around, pushing bricks.

“Guys, I found something,” Nat yelled to us.

We walked to her and saw a metal door with a speaker and mike.

“Hello?” I called.

A robotic voice answered: “In order to enter, you will have to complete this test. There will be three sections. First, Yankees trivia, then, Cold War trivia, and finally, Greek myths trivia. Starting now.”

Sam killed the Yankees trivia. Nat kicked butt on the Cold War stuff. I destroyed the myth questions. After that, the door opened, and we ran in. Inside, there was a trailer with the column in it and three guys sleeping. I did not recognize them.

“No way, we found them,” I whispered. “We should tie them up and call the police.”

“We have no rope, genius,” Sam pointed out.

“In the van,” Nat said.

“Thank you, Nat,” I exclaimed.

After we tied up the culprits and called the police and told them who we were, we went home.

At home, my family got a call from the police. They said that I had found the culprits and the stolen column and asked me to speak at the reopening of the column exhibit the next day.

I stood in the the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Greek Gods exhibit hall. Marble and glass walls surrounded me, and the soaring ceiling made me feel small. The crowd of reporters pushed to get to me before I spoke. The column I just saved was right in front of my face with a ribbon I was about to cut. My gray suit shone brightly from a flash of a camera. The sea of people clapped as I cut the red ribbon and touched the ionic column. Wow, the Met will always be great if this 361 cm tall column is here in this temple like-hallway.


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