The Secret of Rover by Rachel Wildavsky Page B

to look for drinks and we’d better find them before we start eating ‘The Cheesy Snack.’”
    David glared at her back as she plunged yet again down one of the narrow canyons between the walls of cartons. But before long she heard him sigh and rise to his feet to join her search.
    This time they looked for a very, very long while.Eventually they had read and rejected every label at eye level. That left boxes they could only examine by crouching uncomfortably in the dust, or, worse, by climbing. “How are we going to unpack these drinks if they turn out to be up near the ceiling?” Katie demanded as she clung to the crevices in her cardboard wall, peering at a very high label.
    David did not answer. Soon after, though, she heard him utter a muffled cry.
    â€œWhat?” With the back of her hand, Katie wiped the sweat that poured down into her eyes. Her face was gritty with dust.
    â€œI said,
got it
!” shouted David. He had long ago stopped worrying whether the driver would hear him.
    David had found juice boxes. They were packed, as Katie had feared, at the very top of a towering wall of boxes. And they were obviously intended for very young children. Even their crate had cartoon characters all over it.
    But by this time they would practically have drunk mouthwash. And as luck would have it, the position of the box turned out to be an advantage. “Geronimo!” called David, and shoved it to the floor. It was heavy with liquid and fell with a thud. The box’s cardboard seams split on impact, and it took only a moment’s work for Katie and David to rip it wide open, exposing the gaudy, cellophane-wrapped flats of juice within.
    â€œThank you, thank you!” cried Katie, tearing one open. With trembling, exhausted fingers she peeled the wrapper from one tiny straw and jabbed it into the box. Her exertions had left her so weak that she could barely pierce the foil. But as soon as she did so, she inhaled the contents in a single slurp. The juice was sweet and sticky and as hot as she was, but it was liquid and it was delicious.
    She grabbed a second box. “You’re torturing me,” said her brother bitterly, watching her.
    â€œJust start filling your pockets,” she said, scuttling down the aisle to where they’d left the crackers. “But wait!”
    â€œWhat now?”
    â€œLet’s just pick this stuff up,” said Katie. “Because he might stop. And if we leave it in the middle of the aisle, he’ll freak the minute he opens the door, and then he’ll find us.”
    This was a good point. They filled their pockets to bulging with drinks and snacks and shoved aside the goods they’d unpacked as inconspicuously as possible.
    Then they turned off their flashlights to save batteries, sat down in the aisle, and waited.
    One o’clock became one thirty. One thirty became two o’clock.
    David, unable to bear it, peed in the back left corner of the truck. The stench embarrassed him and added to their troubles. He waited for Katie to say something mean, but to his surprise she said nothing about it. She knew he’dhad no choice. Besides, if this continued for much longer, she would be in the same position.
    David drained three juices boxes, practically in a single swallow.
    Two o’clock became two thirty and two thirty became three, and still they rumbled forward.
    â€œKat,” said David eventually.
    â€œMmm.” Katie was leaning against a wall of boxes with her knees up and her arms tight around them. It was plain from her voice that she was growing drowsy.
    â€œKat, should we have some kind of plan? For Yonkers, I mean.”
    â€œPlan?” Katie must be very drowsy indeed, not to perk up at that word. Usually she had a plan for everything. Katie was the kind of girl who diagrammed her homework.
    â€œYes, plan,” he said irritably. “Like, when this thing stops, how do we get out of here without