Floors: Read Free Page B

the UP lever, sending the contraption on a five-minute journey back to the roof. That was the final straw for Betty and her pals. She flew up to Ms. Sparks’s desk and nearly crashed into her beehive hairdo. The rest of the ducks went into hysterics, flapping all over the room like dive-bombers.
    “Open the door!” Ms. Sparks screamed, waving her arms as if a thousand wild bats were on a crash course with her face. The bellboy bolted back to the lobby entrance and pushed his small frame against the big glass door.
    It was mayhem in the lobby when Leo’s father arrived from the basement, looked at Leo, then reached out his hand for the walking stick.
    Clarence Fillmore was a towering figure with a calming effect. He whistled three times fast, then tapped the stick on the marble floor and walked out the door. The ducks flew outside and landed in a birdbath way too small for so many large birds, where they huddled together, waiting for their promised walk through the grounds.
    “Remi, feathers, now!” said Ms. Sparks, which sent the bellboy tearing around the lobby, picking up all the feathers that had come loose. From this, and Ms. Sparks’s earlier command, Leo realized the new boy’s name had to be Remi, but there was no time for formal introductions as he skirted past and out onto the front steps.
    Mr. Fillmore got an earful from Ms. Sparks about the inadequate skills of his duck-walking son, but Leo didn’t seem to mind. All he could think about was the purple box, which was safe, at least for the moment.
    What did it mean? Where had it come from? And why did it have Merganzer D. Whippet’s head emblazoned on its top?

     
    Leo could think of little else besides the purple box as he walked the long and winding path on the hotel grounds. Betty and the rest of the ducks waddled contentedly behind him in a line, following Merganzer’s walking stick to the farthest reaches of the grounds. At the most distant corner was a small pond, where all the ducks went swimming and bobbing for who-knew-what. While they did, Leo sat on a stone bench wishing he could get out of all the work he’d have to do when he returned to the hotel.
    “Why so glum?”
    Leo jumped at the sound of the slow Texas drawl behind him. It was LillyAnn Pompadore, who’d been staying at the hotel for almost three months. She was fabulously rich, or so Leo had been told, hiding out from a Texas social scene she’d grown weary of.
    “Oh, I’m not glum,” said Leo. “I’m just walking the ducks.”
    LillyAnn Pompadore had an unidentifiable animal fur wrapped around her neck, wore lots of makeup, and carried a tiny dog under one arm. Leo could not help wondering how the dog must feel about the fur drapedaround its owner, but he kept silent, staring at the pond and hoping he could avoid a long conversation with the perpetually bored Ms. Pompadore. The dog’s name was Hiney, and he would sooner bite someone’s hand than allow the slightest bit of petting. He also had the annoying habit of pooping in the hotel hallways, which didn’t seem to bother Ms. Pompadore in the slightest. This would set off the alarm in the basement with a ticker tape from Pilar, with a message that usually said something along the lines of
Hiney Alert. Cleanup on Floor 7.
    Hiney started barking. He wasn’t a fan of Betty and her clan, but they were safely in the water, so Leo didn’t mind when Ms. Pompadore set the little guy down and let him run around the pond as if he’d lost his mind.
    “I do hope Mr. Whippet will come back soon,” Ms. Pompadore drawled, fanning herself in the morning sun with a fashion magazine. “Where do you suppose he’s gone off to?”
    Leo shrugged, still hoping he could avoid a long encounter with a bored socialite.
    “Well, no matter,” she said. “Still, it’s a very odd thing the way he disappeared like that. Do you suppose he’s all right?”
    “Sure he is,” Leo answered without even thinking. But the thought had crossed his