The Orphan of Awkward Falls (6 page)

The boy glared at Josephine suspiciously. “Who are you, and what are you up to? Are you a spy sent by the orphanage? Did the man in the black suit put you up to this?”

He was the unhealthiest-looking kid Josephine had ever seen. His marshmallow-pale skin made her wonder if he had ever been outdoors in his life. She winced at the boy’s neglected teeth, which were badly in need of a patient dentist. His uncombed white hair showed no evidence of having been shampooed in recent months. His unclipped fingernails were dirty, his thick glasses smeared with fingerprints, his too-large white jacket and trousers spotted with stains from numerous sloppy meals. The boy was overweight, underexercised, and smelly.

Josephine found him repulsive, yet somehow interesting, like some long-forgotten cheese discovered at the back of the refrigerator.

“Of course I’m not a spy!” said Josephine. “And I don’t know any man in a black suit.”

He snorted. “A likely story!”

The boy hurried over to a small stepladder near the wall, climbed to the top step, and pulled a lever. A crude periscope made from rusty pipes and telescope parts slid down from a tube in the ceiling. Like a submarine commander, he squinted into the eyepiece, rotating the periscope in every direction. “I know he’s out there!” he said. “I’ve spotted him before, you know, skulking around in his black suit, hiding in the trees outside the fence. I’m fully aware of what you people are up to.”

“I am not a liar. And please make this…this
thing
let go of my arm.” She glared up at the robot. “It hurts!”

“Norman is not a thing,” he declared. “He is an ingenious creation, built by my grandfather, Celsius Hibble, one of the greatest scientists of the twentieth century.”

“I don’t care who built it. Just make it let me go!”

“You
should
care!” The boy ignored her pleas, instead removing his smudgy glasses and wiping them with his coattail. “Grandfather was no mere tinkerer. He won the Nobel Prize in science, a feat I hope to match someday. He was very famous. This estate was his, in fact. He did much of his groundbreaking work here, prior to his murder.”

Josephine gasped. “Murder! That’s terrible!”

“Terrible, indeed.” The boy became somber. “Ten years ago, Grandfather was killed in this very room by his lifelong assistant, a terrible man named Fetid Stenchley. The fiend strangled him with his bare hands.”

Josephine gulped and instinctively touched her throat at the thought of it.

“Why would your grandfather’s assistant murder him?”

“No one knows. The man was a lunatic. He’s been locked inside the Asylum for the Dangerously Insane ever since, serving a life sentence. A fitting punishment for killing one of the world’s top geniuses in cold blood, I’d say.”

Finally satisfied that no one else lurked outside, the boy pulled the lever again and the periscope slid back up to the ceiling. He hopped down from the ladder and walked right up to Josephine, looking into her eyes suspiciously.

“If you are lying, and you really are from the orphanage, I swear you’ll never take me alive.”

“I’m not from the orphanage, I promise,” she said. “My name is Josephine Cravitz. I just moved in next door. I’m your new neighbor.” She smiled and stuck out her hand to shake.

He looked at it as if it were a dead fish. “Neighbor? Urgh! I despise neighbors almost as much as I despise spies. How many of you are there?”

“Just my parents and me.”

“Drat! An entire clan,” he fumed. “Throw her in the dungeon, Norman!”

“We don’t have a dungeon, Master.”

“The torture chamber, then!”

“What?” gasped Josephine.
Was this kid some kind of psycho?
she wondered.

“Sadly, we lack one of those as well, sir.”

“Bother! Where do we put prisoners, then?”

“I don’t know, sir. We’ve never had one before.”

The boy and the robot thought it over for a moment, then the robot said, “How about the broom closet, sir?”

“Good idea!” The boy slapped his knee enthusiastically. “It’s dark and uncomfortable, though not as cold as I’d like. We’ll keep her in there until we decide on something better to do with her. Tie her up, Norman! And use lots of ingenious knots. Spies are expert at untying things.”

“As you wish, sir.” The robot found a rope and began coiling it around Josephine’s body, pinning her arms to her sides.

“Hold on a minute!” Josephine squirmed as the robot pulled the ropes tight. She had to stop this craziness, before it got out of hand. “You really don’t have to do this, I’m pretty harmless.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” The boy jutted his chin out defiantly. “Into the closet with her, Norman!”

“Right away, Master.”

“And I’ll have my dinner now. All this ruckus has stirred my appetite.”

Inside the broom closet, Josephine sat on an overturned bucket surrounded by long-unused cleaning supplies. She squirmed and strained against the ropes and quickly found that there was nothing very ingenious about Norman’s knots, after all. Having gone to yoga classes with her mom every Saturday for years, Josephine could twist her body like a pretzel into impossible poses. She dropped her shoulders and folded her arms behind her, rotating her torso and sucking in her belly at the same time. The ropes fell slack, and she was soon able to free her hands. In no time, the ropes were off, which was nice, but she was still locked inside a closet inside a locked room, which was a problem.

She held her ear to the door and listened as the boy and the robot discussed her as if she were some diabolical villain.

“She is obviously a spy from the orphanage, Norman.” The boy chewed as he spoke. “This whole ‘neighbor’ business is just a clever ploy to trap me, I suspect. Don’t you agree?”

“It seems she was peeping, sir, which is very similar to spying, though not exactly analogous in the strictest interpretation of the word. So in that sense—”

“Or maybe she and her ‘parents,’ as she calls them, are some kind of elite commando force, sent here to infiltrate our stronghold!” A loud slurping sound followed this speculation.

“I can only hope,” ventured the robot, seriously, “that she is not an alien assassin from the planet Mars. I saw a very interesting report on television just last evening in which Los Angeles was being invaded by female Martians armed with quite fearsome weaponry. I’m afraid the city has been completely destroyed.”

The boy smacked his forehead. “That was a movie, you dolt, not a report! I’ve told you a TRILLION times, Norman, movies are fictitious.”

“Oh, what a relief,” the robot sighed mechanically. “I’ve been so worried all day.”

“So who is she, then? She was up to something devious, I’m sure of it. Why else would she have been sneaking around here in the dead of night? She knows our secrets now that she has been inside. She has sensitive information!”

As the discussion went on and their ideas of what to do became increasingly outlandish, Josephine began to worry. Her parents did not have the slightest idea where she was, so rescue was impossible. Screaming would also be a waste of time, and it might cause her captors to become even more agitated. Though the boy and the
robot were naive and a bit silly, they seemed to be truly paranoid and capable of doing who knew what. At one point, she heard the boy suggest the possibility of Norman driving her far out into the tundra and dropping her off, like some terrible people did with unwanted kittens. Luckily, the robot answered that the car was low on gas and they dropped the idea. Then the robot suggested there might be some simple surgery that could be implemented to erase her “memory circuits,” since he had seen that done on television also. Chillingly, the boy actually liked the surgery idea, but decided against it, citing a lack of the proper drilling tools.

Hearing all this, Josephine tried desperately to come up with an escape plan. Just as she began looking for air vents in the ceiling, the closet door opened and Norman’s strong claws reached in for her. The robot lifted Josephine out of the closet and plopped her into a chair at the dining table.

The boy noticed that the ropes were gone. “Hey! You’re supposed to be tied up. Norman, didn’t you tie her up properly?”

“Yes, Master. My knots were quite elaborate.”

“Then why is she not tied up?”

The robot looked Josephine over closely. “Perhaps she chewed through the bindings, sir. She does appear to have exceptionally sturdy teeth.”

“I untied myself,” she said. “It wasn’t that hard.”

“So, you are a professional!” The boy shone a toy flashlight in her face, eyeing her suspiciously. “Very well, Ms. ‘Cravitz.’ If that is
your real name. We will interrogate you without ropes. You will tell us everything…or ELSE! First, who are you really working for?”

“I’m not working for anyone!”

“An obvious lie.” He wiggled the flashlight inches from her face. “We’ll make you sweat. Are you a foreigner?”

“No. Well…sort of. I’m from Wisconsin, but—”

“AHA! So, you are a foreign spy from Wisconsin! A country known for its many cruel orphanages.” The boy gulped the rest of his candy and flung the wrapper.

“Actually, sir,” said the robot, “I believe Wisconsin is a state, not a—”

“Shush, Norman. She may be wearing one of those tiny recording devices all the top spies have. Our enemies in Wisconsin are probably listening to every word we are saying.”

“Look,” Josephine said, as calmly and sincerely as she could, “I admit I was snooping around. I’m a naturally nosy person. But I didn’t mean to cause any trouble, and I definitely don’t work for any orphanage. I don’t even like orphanages. I think they’re depressing.”

“You do?” The boy looked perplexed. He bit off a chunk of the candy bar he held in his chubby fist.

“Yes,” she said, looking him in the eye to get her point across. “I would never want to be put in one of those places. They’re like prisons for children.”

“A perfect analogy!” he said. “I wish I’d thought of it. With their evil wardens and disgusting bowls of gruel. They’re inhuman!”

“You’re right.” Josephine had never seen an orphanage, but, like all children, had very strong ideas about them nevertheless. “The truth is, even though you tied me up, I wouldn’t want you to be sent to one.”

“You wouldn’t?” He clicked off the flashlight. “I’m pleased to see we share the same opinion on the matter, Ms. Cravitz.”

“I’m very antiorphanage,” Josephine said.

“Hmmm. If a spy from the orphanage said those things, she’d be banished, if not assassinated. Perhaps you’re not a spy after all.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you that. And you don’t have to call me Ms. Cravitz, you know. I’m not an old lady. Just call me Josephine.”

“Fine. Josephine, then.”

“That’s better. Now, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” she asked.

He tipped his head back and pointed his chin at her. “You may call me Master Hibble,” he said.

“But you’re a kid.”

His face was blank. “Your point is…?”

“Come on,” she said. “I told you my first name, now you have to tell me yours.”

“Oh, bother! If you must know, it is Thaddeus, though no one calls me that.”

She smiled. “Of course. You look like a Thaddeus.”

“I’m glad you approve.” He hopped up onto a chair across from her and ripped the paper off another candy bar.

“Would you care to join me for a bite, Ms. Crav—er, I mean, Josephine?” Thaddeus offered. “Norman has laid out more than I can eat, as usual.”

Josephine could not imagine a less appetizing place to eat. The smell of rodent droppings was enough to make her stomach turn. Dunes of crumpled candy wrappers, empty soda cans, overturned cereal boxes, cookie crumbs, ice cream tubs, and many other unidentifiable clumps made the table’s surface look like a landfill. Still, she could see he was being generous in his own way, so she did the polite thing and nodded and smiled.

When she turned her attention to the items laid out on the dishes between them, she immediately wished she could take it back. There was a pot of brown sludge that she guessed was supposed to be hot cocoa, an enormous bowl of dusty sugar cubes, a plate of ChocoChewy Nut Logs, and a family-sized sack of mini doughnuts.

The robot tied a bib decorated with blue teddy bears around Thaddeus’s neck. With the grace of the finest butler, he daintily topped off the boy’s mug of cocoa/sludge and filled a cup for their guest.

“Where are my marshmallows, Norman?” The boy used a stubby finger to search the depths of his cocoa.

“My apologies, Master, but I’m afraid we’re a bit short on cash again,” Norman explained. “Marshmallows are rather expensive, you know.”

“Vexation! Perhaps we could sell another piano. The one in the conservatory should be worth something.”

“We sold that one last month, sir. There are no more pianos.”

“Urgh. Cocoa without marshmallows is barbaric.”

To Josephine’s shock, Thaddeus plunked six lumps of sugar into his cocoa/sludge and stirred. She grimaced. Her teeth hurt just watching him.

“Refined sugar is extremely unhealthy, you know,” she blurted out before thinking. “I mean, so I’ve read.”

He slurped from the cup. “Nonsense. Sugar is delicious! Here, try this and see for yourself,” he said, plucking a lump of sugar from the bowl and handing it out to her.

She recoiled as if the sparkling cube were radioactive. “No, no, I can’t. It’s not good for my teeth,”
Or anything else, for that matter,
she thought. “Don’t you get lots of cavities?”

He looked at her as if she were loony. “I can assure you that the majority of my teeth are in perfect condition! In fact, I find that drinking five or six cups of sugared cocoa per day is quite beneficial to my system.” He peeled the wrapper off a ChocoChewy Nut Log and bit off a hunk. “Especially when accompanied by just the right entrée.”

Josephine felt as if she had discovered some new species of creature. She had never seen anyone cram so much unhealthy food into his stomach at one sitting in her life. She badly wanted to snatch the candy from Thaddeus’s hands and replace it with a celery stick or anything from the vegetable or fruit family, though the likelihood of finding such a thing in this house seemed remote.

The mere thought of all the unhealthy things going on inside his body made her woozy. His triglyceride levels were probably off the chart, not to mention his adrenals. And she didn’t even want to think of his spleen.

“Why are you so worried about being sent to an orphanage, Thaddeus?” Josephine asked, as he licked imitation doughnut dust off his fingers. “Are you an orphan?”

He bristled at the suggestion. “Certainly not. I have parents. In fact, I expect their arrival any time now.” He slid down from his chair and headed for the far end of the table, followed by Norman. “Come with me.”

The robot set a candelabra at the other end of the table, where three formal place settings had been laid out—complete with china plates, soup bowls, and crystal goblets, plus multiple forks, knives, and spoons. Cone-shaped party hats and paper horns sat on each plate. The settings would have been festive if not for the shroud of dust and spiderwebs covering them. A board game, also coated with dust, was set up in the center of the table, as if a game were about to begin.

Thaddeus went over to the place settings and began blowing the dust off them. “We’re going to have a homecoming party in their honor, the moment they return. Mother will sit here, and Father over there, with me right between them. We’ll have a huge feast, then play games until bedtime!” He beamed, as if he were seeing the reunion playing out before him. “First we’ll play Candyland, my personal
favorite, then perhaps Monopoly or Chinese checkers, if Mother prefers. All the best families play games together.”

“Looks like you’ve been expecting them for a while,” she said. “How long have they been gone?”

“I don’t know.” Thaddeus set a faded party hat on his head that read
HAPPY PRESIDENTS’ DAY
. He absently hopped one of the little plastic gingerbread men game pieces across the Candyland board. “A long time, I expect.”

“Don’t you remember when they left?”

“No. It must have been when I was very young. A toddler perhaps.”

“A toddler! But that’s awful. Why would a mother and father leave a toddler all alone?”

He seemed to be offended by the question. “I don’t know, but I’m sure they had a very good reason. They are brilliant, highly educated people, of course. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been on an important mission of some kind for a head of state. They’ve probably been working in some remote corner of the globe, like Antarctica or Madagascar, and are steaming home to rejoin me at this very moment! In the meantime, I am living in the lap of luxury. Besides, they didn’t leave me alone, did they? I’ve had Norman with me the entire time.”

Josephine tried to make sense of what he was saying. “Thaddeus, have you ever seen your parents?” she asked gingerly.

“Seen them? Of course I have seen them!” he insisted. “Just because I can’t recall the details doesn’t mean I haven’t seen them.
You can’t remember everything you saw as a toddler, can you?”

Josephine could see that the subject was a sore one. Though she was dying to ask more questions about these mysterious parents, she didn’t have the heart to continue. “I guess you’re right. I’m sure they will be back soon.”

“Of course they will. All I have to do is avoid the thugs from the orphanage until then, and all will be well.”

He took the party hat off his head, placed it carefully back on the plate, then drained the cocoa from his mug.

“Enough of this idle nattering,” he announced with a scowl, his chubby face mustached and goateed with dripping cocoa. “I must get back to the lab. I have a weasel to repair!”

“What should I do with Madame Prisoner, sir?” the robot interjected. “Shall I lock her in the closet again?”

“She’s no longer a prisoner, Norman, merely a meddlesome neighbor. You may see her out.”