Blue, that was the missing word! Jasmine closed her eyes to summon all things blue: an exercise book, a crayon, a t-shirt. But it had to be a building, something her history teacher would want her to include in her project.
Gramps was snoozing in his armchair. He’d be no help. Jasmine called her best friend Lily, promised to share her mid-morning snack on the first day of school if she found the answer first.
Jasmine Googled blue things in Hong Kong and an article popped up: The Blue House, a museum of story-telling. This four-storey Lingnan-style house was built in the 1920s with both Chinese and Western architectural features.
Time to go! Gramps changed into his outdoor shoes and packed an umbrella. ‘If we’re going to Wanchai, I’d like to buy some egg tarts,’ he said.
With a rush, a suck, a slobbery lick, they found themselves on Stone Nullah street with colourful toy shops, noisy hawkers’ stalls and stinky smells of freshly-cut pork. Where was the house? There it was, just across the road. The bluest house you could imagine. But it looked oh-so closed: metal gates, wooden gates, padlocks, metal bars. And where was the museum? Jasmine loved stories and was looking forward to hearing some. ‘Moved for renovation,’ a worker told her.
Where could the next envelope be? Jasmine’s heart sank. She scanned the pretty tiled roof and spotted two ceramic fish. One of them had an envelope in its mouth. It gasped as if to catch some air and the envelope dropped to the pavement!
The clue was: A memorial gate which leads to one of the oldest zoological and botanical gardens in the world. Easy! Jasmine wiped some sweat from her brow. She made a note of the mystery letter. It was A.
|< Prev||Next >|