The Mapmaker and the Ghost(44)
Perhaps she was taking a tiny bit longer than she should, but Goldenrod couldn’t leave the exhibit without getting a quick look at her favorite part. It hung on the back wall: a very long, faded map under a heavy glass frame, an original. The map was beautiful, precise, and perfect, and it made her hope even harder that its maker wasn’t too disheartened with her.
As she scanned the illustrated parchment dreamily, suddenly she gasped. There, on the bottom right-hand corner of the map, was a blue rose. A blue compass rose. When Goldenrod looked over the map again, she realized, for the first time ever, what it truly was. It was a map of her forest. And, not only that, but faint blue lines seemed to be showing various routes to get out of it—if only you knew what you were looking at. Suddenly, Goldenrod understood: one of those routes was the only way to get the real blue rose out.
“Goldenrod,” Birch whispered, “we have to go.” He had been acting uncharacteristically brave all day, but she saw a little hint of worry nestled in his forehead.
He was right, of course, but it didn’t stop Goldenrod from looking longingly at the map one last time. Maybe when all this was over, she could figure out a way to borrow it from the museum and use it before the roses wilted.
As Goldenrod and Birch quietly made their way up the museum stairs, they started to hear the sounds of Spitbubble’s crew up to their no-good deeds. It was time for the Morams to put their own plan into action, which was pretty simple really. Scare them first. And then, if they didn’t leave, get the guard to find them.
The first part of it was easy. Turning on the sneeze machine in the bacteria exhibit was just a flick of a switch, and they had the perfect hiding place—behind a giant cardboard cutout of a human body—to wait.
Goldenrod silently rejoiced when she saw that Snotshot was the one who had come to see what the noise was. She was the one they wanted for maximum effect.
While Snotshot was puzzling over the sneeze machine, Goldenrod and Birch took the opportunity to slip from behind the cutout and scurry to the next exhibit. It was all about the five senses and right by the farthest wall was a giant red pipe with an opening that was meant to be spoken into. To display how quickly sound could travel, the pipe wound all the way around the room and ended in the bacteria exhibit—right around where Snotshot was standing.
Birch put his mouth to the pipe and, using the voice Goldenrod had taught him, hissed, “You must leave the museum. You must, you must, you must.”
Goldenrod was impressed with how scary and ghostlike her tiny little brother sounded. Clearly, Snotshot was too, since she jumped about a mile into the air at the sound of his voice. Her eyes widened, and in a flash she was running back to the Energy Quest exhibit. “Guys, I think we have to get out of here!” she squealed.
“What?” came the sound of Brains’s voice.
“We have to leave. Now,” Snotshot said, her voice shaking.
“What are you—” Brains started.
But just then, there was a tremendous crackle. And then a scream.
“Lint!” They heard Brains’s anguished yell.
31
THE PATH OF THE BLUE ROSE
The giant purple streak of lightning from the ceiling scared Snotshot almost as much as the sound of that ghost had.
When she came to her senses enough to look away from the small, innocent-looking coil that had caused the lightning, she caught a glimpse of Spitbubble hastily pulling away from the coil’s base. He had obviously just been leaning on what appeared to be a small, silver switch.
Spitbubble looked in shock, and even more so as he caught sight of something by the hydropower station. When Snotshot followed his gaze, she got sick to her stomach too.
The unexpected sound of the lightning had scared them all, and it seemed as if Lint had tried to run when he’d heard it. Now, however, he was lying flat on his back on the floor, his face completely pale with agony. It was easy to see why, as Snotshot could clearly make out a small, white piece of bone that was sticking out from his shin. That lint ball he was always carrying was rolling away from him; he must have tripped over it.
Brains was with him in an instant, trying to examine the wound. “It’ll be okay, Lint. It’ll be okay,” he said, a bit too frantically for Snotshot’s liking.
Lint just moaned helplessly, and even louder when Brains gently tried to lift his foot.
“Can you fix it?” came Spitbubble’s deep voice.
“His leg’s broken,” Brains said. “We have to get him to a hospital.”
“No! No hospital. They’ll ask too many questions about us. Can’t you make a splint or something?” came Spitbubble’s less-than-calm reply. When people like Brains and Spitbubble were panicking, this was cause for worry.
Snotshot looked around frantically to see if there was anything she could do to help. And that’s when she saw them—the girl and her brother. “You!” she said. They were looking pale as they watched Lint cry out in pain.
The rest of the kids turned to them too, and Spitbubble opened his mouth to say something. But he was interrupted by the faint sound of a door opening from the other end of the hallway, the door that led to the back stairs.
“The guard. He’s coming,” Brains muttered almost to himself. He was rummaging in his backpack, obviously trying to find something that might work as a splint.