The Slippery Map Read Free Page B

through the crack at the screen.
    Alvin Peterly was a chubby boy with a big smile, his name written on the screen under his wobbly chin. He was saying, “There was a ride through the air, swinging around. Then I was in a small room with little, weird-looking people, asking me questions. There were tubs of chocolates! And they didn’t want me to eat the chocolates, but I refused to answer any questions without the chocolates!”
    The interviewer shook his head sadly, as if poor Alvin Peterly had lost his poor mind during his Mysterious Temporary Disappearance. “There you have it,” he said wearily. “Reporting live from Arbutus.”
    Leatherbelly whined at the door and scratched it twice. Mrs. Fishback snatched him up, petting him fiercely. “If only Oyster R. Motel would disappear! Imagine! It would be beyond our control. Nobody’s fault. Poof! All of our troubles would be gone!”
    There was a silent heated moment. Were they all contemplating it? Oyster gone? They all seemed poised on this one moment. Oyster wanted to speak up for himself: Remember you once loved me? Remember? Oyster hadbeen a miracle, really. He was born from a Dorsey’s Pickled Foods box, already wrapped in a Royal Motel towel, born right at the nunnery’s gate, a miracle just for the nuns. A miracle!
    But it was clear that the nuns were no longer swayed by the miracle of Oyster R. Motel. They weren’t remembering how much they’d once loved him. It was clear that they were imagining peace. A world without the bother of awful Oyster up to no good. And from the depth of the silence, Oyster could only imagine that they were deciding that they liked the idea. And it made him feel so sad that he felt sick.
    Just then Sister Mary Many Pockets flew into the room. She was nervously cracking peanut shells, leaving a small trail of them in her wake. She looked under the table and raised her hands in flustered panic. Oyster knew that she was looking for him. He wished she wouldn’t! He was trying to be invisible, especially right now when the dust in the broom closet was getting to his nose. He had to sneeze. And, worse, Leatherbelly had wrenched his head out of Mrs. Fishback’s arms, and he was growling in the direction of the broom closet.
    â€œWhat do you want?” asked Mrs. Fishback.
    Sister Mary Money Pockets put out her hand, indicating Oyster’s height, indicating Oyster himself.
    Mother Superior shrugged. The other nuns glanced around the room guiltily. And Leatherbelly let out a knowing bark, but no one paid him any attention.
    â€œMaybe he’s disappeared!” said Mrs. Fishback, an insincere panic in her voice.
    Mother Superior pointed at the television. And there the broadcaster was, recapping the Awful MTDs.
    Sister Mary Many Pockets’s eyes grew wide. She popped some peanuts and shook her head.
    And Oyster was thinking, Maybe it would be a good thing to disappear. Alvin Peterly and the girl lost in the Hula Hoop and the kids who went missing in the tire swing—well, maybe they were lucky. Maybe they didn’t want to be where they were because maybe they weren’t wanted. Oyster thought, If I disappeared, I’d want to stay gone. And the nuns would regret that they ever wanted me to disappear.
    He suddenly felt a thick sadness in his throat. He turned away from the cracked door and the broom handles and the vacuum crowding in, the detergent pistols all aimed at his face.
    He leaned against the back of the broom closet. And then the wall gave.
    It opened to breezy, cool dark air, and Oyster had to lurch forward to keep from falling. One of the brooms that had been propped against the wall, the only broomwith a green handle, immediately fell out into open air, endlessly spiraling.
    Oyster felt hard metal hit the backs of his legs. It disappeared and struck again, but this time he grabbed the curved edge of something made of polished metal. He started to slip