The Mapmaker and the Ghost (21 page)

The museum was peaceful and quiet. Goldenrod had been there before quite a number of times with her family, and it was a little odd to see all of the experiment stations lying still, and all of the lab coats and goggles hung up and in their places. As she passed by the cooking experiment station, she specifically recollected the last time she had been there and how excited her dad had been that there was a new exhibit demonstrating two of his favorite hobbies: science and cooking. If there was only a way the curators could have fit home repair in there, the family might have never seen Mr. Moram again.

Goldenrod knew they had to head to the back double doors to get to the stairs and up to Energy Quest, but she took a little detour first. One, because she knew the Gross-Out Gang had distracted the guard with an exhibit that was close by and she wanted to make sure that he was gone. (After all, it wouldn't be very adventurous if the Morams simply tattled on Spitbubble's crew to the authorities … without having a little fun with them first.) And two, because Goldenrod couldn't help but pay a visit to
her
favorite exhibit. As long as she was there and all.

Her exhibit was tucked into a front corner. It was a small but loving tribute to the most famous explorers to ever grace their area—so far, anyway: Mr. Meriwether Lewis and Mr. William Clark. The little section had a moss green carpet, and there were a few dioramas under glass showing plastic versions of some of the animals Lewis and Clark had discovered, including Meriwether's—and Cassandra's and Toe Jam's—woodpecker. There was a station where kids could identify five different types of plants based on their characteristics, and there was a nice portrait of Meriwether, maroon overcoat and all. The sight of the familiar overcoat gave Goldenrod a little pang of remorse at how she had behaved the last time she'd seen the ghost. It hadn't been very scientific or rational of her to storm out on him like that. Once she'd had time to think it through, she'd realized that it really hadn't been his fault that she couldn't complete the quest. She hoped she could go back and apologize once this whole thing was over.

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.

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.

“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.