The Mapmaker and the Ghost(45)

“Okay,” Spitbubble said firmly, “everybody out. Run.”

“What?” Brains said incredulously. “What about Lint? He can’t move!”

“Leave him,” Spitbubble said calmly.

If it was at all possible, Lint’s face became a shade whiter still. He looked up at Brains fearfully.

“Are you kidding? No way!” Brains said. He and Spitbubble stared at each other across the exhibit, the tension as taut as the wires in that big coil that had caused this whole mess.

“I can help,” Goldenrod spoke up. The entire Gang stared at her again, but it was Snotshot she was looking at. “The rose,” Goldenrod said to her. “We can go get it. Can you help me?”

Before Snotshot could even process what the girl was asking, there was the sound of a door opening and closing. Spitbubble was gone. The rest of the Gross-Out Gang looked at one another in shock.

“If she can help, help her,” Brains finally said to Snotshot as the sound of the guard’s footsteps got closer.

Snotshot took one more look at Lint’s agonized expression. “Let’s go,” she said to Goldenrod. The two of them and Birch quickly walked through the same front door from which Spitbubble had made his escape.

Just as they were running down the stairs, they heard the incredulous sounds of the security guard as he came upon what must have been a very unusual scene for a Thursday afternoon at the museum.



Goldenrod led the way to the Lewis and Clark exhibit as they burst through the first floor’s double doors.

“There’s a map,” she explained to Snotshot. “We have to, um, take it from the museum.” The thought made her a little nauseous. But this was an emergency and she hoped that Meriwether—and the museum guard, the police, and her parents—would understand.

“Fine, show me,” Snotshot said, and a few seconds later, Goldenrod was pointing at the wall with the beautiful and faded parchment.

The frame was too big for one non-Lint-sized person to carry and run with at the same time. Goldenrod knew she couldn’t have done it with just Birch’s help either. And since Snotshot already knew what and where the rose and clearing were, it had just made sense to ask her.

And she’d been right. Without a moment’s hesitation, Snotshot had taken the frame down from the wall. She at least has some practice taking things that don’t belong to her, Goldenrod thought.

She and Birch went to help. It was awkward carrying the long frame among the three of them, especially since there was a pretty profound height difference between Birch and Snotshot. But they stuck Birch in the middle and ran as fast as they could, Goldenrod leading the way. They took the back door out of the museum and ran down through the wooded area that would eventually lead to Pilmilton Woods.

They didn’t say much to one another as they ran. Once, Goldenrod mentioned to Birch that they were heading into the forest again. He just nodded in response. The rest of the way, they focused on their speed.

As they were nearing the forest’s perimeter, Snotshot called out, “Do you know where the rose is?”

“Yes,” said Goldenrod.

“So … the ghost. Do you know about him?” Snotshot asked.

Goldenrod hesitated. “Yes,” she finally said and then looked back at Birch. His face looked grim, but he didn’t make any remarks about this new development.

“Do you think he’ll turn up?” Snotshot asked, sounding a little frightened at the prospect.

“No,” Goldenrod said. “I don’t think you should worry about him.” This probably wasn’t the best time to confess that Meriwether would never have turned into Snotshot’s worst nightmare without Goldenrod’s help.

In a few minutes, they had reached the forest and, soon after, the clearing. Goldenrod gently put down her section of the map and went over to the spot where the jar was buried. She kneeled down and started to dig with her hands. Within a few moments, she had taken out the glowing jar. The blue roses were still inside it, though looking dimmer than when she had seen them on the bush.

“Now what?” Snotshot asked.

“The map,” Goldenrod said as she walked over to them with the jar. “It will show us the only possible route to get the rose out of the forest. See?” She knelt down in front of the map, where the blue compass rose was now glowing faintly too, probably because it was so near its other half. Only one of the many blue paths Goldenrod had noticed before was visible now, and it was also shining.

“Let’s go, then,” Snotshot said.

“We have to take the map back too. It’s priceless,” Goldenrod said.

Snotshot opened her mouth to speak, when they heard a booming voice instead.

“Priceless? You don’t say. I think that means it should stay right here, then.”

They whipped around to see Spitbubble walking swiftly toward them.

“Oh no,” groaned Birch.

And then, the most extraordinary thing happened. Snotshot turned to the Morams and said, “You run back with the rose. Help Lint. I’ll take care of this.”

“But the map—” Goldenrod started.

“Can you memorize the path?” Snotshot asked.

“Yes—” Goldenrod said. “But we can’t let him take it.”

Snotshot looked down at the frame at her feet. “Yeah,” she said. “I know. Look, I’ll make sure the museum gets it back. You have my word.” She brought her head up and looked Goldenrod square in the eye.