The Mapmaker and the Ghost(49)

“‘Your son is a thief, a kidnapper, and a general bad guy. For the past few months, he has been leading a group of young, for lack of a better word, hoodlums.’”

It was a bit of a shocker to hear this coming out of a cookie box. Spitbubble immediately lifted the cover and looked at the fancy label on it for the first time. BIRCH’S BATCHES, it said in scrawling cursive, A DIVISION OF G-ROD? BAKERIES. It was overlaid upon a stunning picture of a bouquet of yellow flowers fanning over a white tree trunk. There was a golden embossed seal closing the box that had the words LEGENDARY ADVENTURERS stamped on it.

With horror, Spitbubble looked at the cookies. “What the…,” he started.

But his mother read on. “‘They have been doing horrible things all over town. You might have read about some of his followers in the paper yesterday in relation to a particular science museum.’”

“Is this a joke?” Spitbubble yelled, something his low and level voice was not used to doing. With a swing of his hand, he knocked the entire box of cookies to the floor.

But Ms. Barbroff did not pay much attention to the mess. “‘If you don’t believe me, I have drawn a map that approximately shows where their hideout is. (It would be more accurate, except your son caused me to lose a lot of my possessions in the forest a few days ago.)’” Ms. Barbroff stared at the map that adorned the bottom of the note. PILMILTON WOODS it said in block letters, and there were pictures of trees and bushes with annotations like SUGAR MAPLE TREES. In the center of all the foliage was a detailed drawing of a very odd structure labeled STAN’S EVIL LAIR.

“This is … this is…,” Stan sputtered, realizing he was losing control of the situation.

“‘If you still don’t believe me’”—Ms. Barbroff seemed almost in a trance now as she continued reading the letter—“‘I have also included the phone number of a Mrs. Cassandra Lewis of the famous Lewis family. She can give you a very detailed list of items Stan has stolen.’

“‘Hope you enjoy the rest of your summer! Dutifully, Goldenrod Moram. P.S. The cookies are not poisoned.’”

Slowly, Ms. Barbroff looked at her son, who was surrounded by scattered cookies and looked as if his legs were stuck to the ground with the same paste that was finally starting to disintegrate in her mouth. “Goldenrod Moram,” she said quietly. “But how … how does she know you?”

Spitbubble straightened up and cleared his throat. It was time to play to his strengths. “I think … I think I might have run into her in town somewhere,” he started, concentrating at first on controlling his voice again.

“She was one of my students …”

“Yes, she seemed like she would have been a difficult one.” He hesitated only slightly.

“Yes…,” Ms. Barbroff started.

“Rather nasty to me actually … Was she nasty to you?” He was much more confident now.

“She gave me a lot of grief,” Ms. Barbroff said shakily, and he could see her eyeing yesterday’s newspaper, which was still sitting on the kitchen table.

“That must be it, then. She must know I’m your son. That would explain her attitude.” His voice was back to normal, he was thankful to notice, and he was back to being in charge.

Ms. Barbroff looked down at the note. He could almost see the sedating voice in her head saying to her, “Yes, that must be it.”

“Don’t be upset, Ma. Why don’t you go relax on the couch? I’ll clean this up.” It was a nice touch, if Spitbubble did say so himself. And once his mom was out of the room, he would figure out exactly what to do about that girl.

Ms. Barbroff nodded, back to normal again. “Yes, all right,” she said slowly and walked to the kitchen door.

But then, as she passed the wall phone on the way out, she suddenly grabbed the receiver. “I’ll just make one phone call,” she said as she looked down at the beige piece of paper.

For once in his life, Spitbubble was speechless.





34

THE GOLDENROD AND BIRCH EXPEDITION


The day Goldenrod found herself in the forest clearing again was another beautiful and sunny summer day. Amid the chirping birds and buzzing insects, her voice rang out, calling Meriwether’s name.

A part of her was afraid that she was too late. She very much wanted to see the ghost again, but she had decided to wait until she was sure the quest was complete so that she could bring him the good news herself. She had then realized, of course, that she didn’t quite know how this part would work. At what point exactly did Meriwether’s spirit get set free? And what did that even really mean?

“Meriwether,” she called out again, crossing her fingers behind her back in the hopes that he would answer.

The fifth time that she said his name, he did.

With a pop, the tall, elegant ghost appeared, beaming at Goldenrod, though he was most certainly much fainter than ever before.

“You’re still here. I’m so glad!” Goldenrod said.

“You completed the quest,” Meriwether said.

“Yes, I gave a rose to my dad who took it to the head of his department, and my mom took one to her gardening club. And I had Charla check them against her Encyclopedia of North American Flora and Fauna. Your lost discovery has officially been discovered. I even brought the letter from the Horticultural Society.” Goldenrod unzipped her backpack and took out a much folded, unfolded, and refolded piece of stationery. “You were right, of course. They said it’s looking likely that this is one of the most important natural discoveries of the past fifty years.”