The Berenstain Bears in the Wax Museum (4 page)

Chapter 6

The Truckers Cometh

Mama was right about BAD, of course. But it didn't matter. As usual, Papa was mostly hot air: all talk, no action. And the cubs quickly forgot all about trying to fight Lady Grizzly's campaign. They didn't really believe she would be successful. They were so in love with the idea of Madame Bearsaud's Wax Museum and Entertainment Center that they couldn't really imagine it not coming true.

Meanwhile, Brother and Fred continued their summer of adventure. And Madame Bearsaud's entertainment center was now at the center of their adventures. In fact, it seemed on the verge of becoming the Great Adventure Fred had dreamed of. As the days of construction wore on, the cubs hatched a scheme to sneak into Madame Bearsaud's for a look-see. It would be a huge thrill to see what was inside before anyone else did. And an even bigger thrill to report their exploits to the rest of Beartown's admiring cubs. All that was left to do was choose the right moment.

That moment came sooner than they expected. Work on the center had speeded up lately. Perhaps Madame Bearsaud had got wind of ABATE's campaign and decided that an early completion of the center would put a stop to it. But whatever the reason for the speed-up, the massive building was finished in a matter of days, and now trucks labeled
MADAME BEARSAUD'S WAX MUSEUM
began coming and going through the gateway in the multi-colored fence.

“Do you think they're bringing in the wax statues?” Brother asked Fred as they stood watching from across the street.

“If I were a betting bear,” said Fred, “I'd give you a hundred-to-one odds that they are.”

“Well,” said Brother, “what are we waiting for? The time for our Great Adventure is upon us!”

Fred smiled, and across the street they went.

Chapter 7

No Trespassing

Brother and Fred crept along the alleyway behind the building project, staying close to the fence. They were looking for a break or hole in the fence in a spot where they wouldn't be seen sneaking in. And sure enough, they found one: a crack in the fence just wide enough for a cub to slip through.

Brother was ready to go for it, but Fred held back. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” he said. He pointed to a sign just above the crack in the fence. It read:
NO TRESPASSING
.

“Hmm,” said Brother. “Trespassing. That's an awful big word, and I'm just a cub.” He winked. “I don't know what it means. Do you?”

Now, Brother hadn't forgotten that Fred liked to read the dictionary for fun. But he expected his wink to do the trick. And it did. Fred suddenly lost his memory for long words.

“Trespassing,” he said, scratching his head. “I'm not sure … I think it's a fancy word for fishing.”

“Oh,” said Brother. “‘No fishing.' Well, that's no sweat. We didn't even bring our fishing poles, did we? Come on, let's go.”

No one could possibly have seen the cubs dart from the crack in the fence to a back door that was propped open with a garbage can. Before you could sneeze, they were inside the building. It was very dark. From the little bit of daylight coming through the propped-open door, they could see that they were in an enormous room, like a huge cavern.

“Wow,” said Fred, peering around. “Whatever it is, it's a whole lot bigger than the school auditorium …”

“It must be the Screaming Room,” said Brother. “You know—the horror movie palace.”

“Of course!” said Fred. “Whoa, what's that?”

Brother felt Fred press against him, trembling. When he looked up to where Fred was pointing, he got a little trembly himself. But as his eyes got used to the darkness, he relaxed. “It's just the balcony,” he said.

“But it's also Bearzilla, the monster!” cried Fred. “It's like he's holding up the balcony!”

“Cool!” said Brother. “And that's not all. Look at the walls. Murals all over 'em!”

“Bearcula!” said Fred. “And the Frankenbear Monster!”

“And the Wolf Bear!” said Brother.

“I can't take this,” said Fred. “Let's get out of here!” He made a move for the propped-open door, but Brother grabbed his arm. “Lemme go!” protested Fred.

“We can't turn back now,” Brother scolded. He pointed at a rectangle outlined by yellow light under a red-glowing exit sign. “Look. There's a side door. It must lead into another part of the building. I say we check it out.”

“And I still say we get out of here—” Fred started to say.

But just then, the cubs heard the high-pitched beeping of a truck backing up to the propped-open door. Its shadow deepened the darkness in the Screaming Room.

“On second thought,” said Fred, “let's check out that side door …”

The cubs hurried to the exit and slipped through into a dimly lit hallway. On the wall before them were the words
WAX MUSEUM
, with an arrow pointing to an exit at the far end of the hallway.

“All right!” said Brother. “Now we're in business!”

“Not exactly,” said Fred, still a little trembly. “Madame Bearsaud's in business. We're trespassing!”

“No, we're not,” said Brother with another wink. “We forgot our trespassing poles, remember? Come on.”

When the cubs went through the far exit into the wax museum, they almost panicked. The brighter light blinded them for an instant, and they could hear the sounds of workbears moving heavy objects. Fortunately, Brother spied an old barrel lying on its side in the nearest corner. They hurried over to it and crept inside.

“You think they saw us?” whispered Fred.

“Nah,” said Brother. “We're in great shape. This is the perfect hiding place.”

“Sure, it's a great hiding place,” whispered Fred. “But we can't see anything!”

“Oh, yeah?” said Brother. “Check out this little knothole …”

Sure enough, there was a tiny knothole in the barrel wall right at eye level. And it faced out into the wax museum.

“Cool,” said Brother, peering through the hole. “Here come some workbears carrying something. It's a wax statue in a fancy gown … I bet that's Queen Elizabear.”

“Let me see,” said Fred, pressing one of the lenses of his glasses against the knothole. “They've put Queen Elizabear right in the middle of the room. Hey, wait a minute—if that's Queen Elizabear, where are her crown jewels?”

“Madame Bearsaud probably keeps them in a safe when the museum's closed,” said Brother.

“Oh, right,” said Fred. “Hey, there are other statues out there; the workbears must have brought them in before we got here. Blackbear the Pirate! He's holding a cutlass … and Bearjamin Franklin's holding a kite … and—uh-oh, they must have dropped one of the wax figures. It's lying flat on its back!”

“Let's see,” said Brother. “Oh, that's Gullibear.”

“Gullibear?” said Fred.

“You know, from
Gullibear's Travels
,” said Brother. “He's supposed to be flat on his back. See? The Lillibruins have tied him down with rope. Here come the workbears with another statue … Cool! It's the Frankenbear Monster! Hmm …”