field, and there was an entire Haunted House hanging upside down in the middle of it.
It was perfect in every detail: the broken shutters, the bent weather vane, even the fake black cat screeching silently over the front porch. On the ceiling itself was a little plot of land, fake grass and mud, with gravestones and wiry trees hanging down like stalactites. Or stalagmites. I can never remember which is which.
I sat heavily on the floor, dumbstruck. I wondered how I’d know if I was crazy. Is there a blood test, or can you just pee in a cup or something? Once I was in a bicycle accident, and I lay in the street for a long time afterward. People surrounded me and wouldn’t let me stand up until the paramedics arrived. When they did, they asked if I knew who the president was, and what state I lived in, and how much was three times seven. When I answered everything correctly they seemed pleased, so they asked my name and I said “Gratuity,” and then they wouldn’t let me up until I told them it was “Janet.”
Anyway, sitting there, I decided to test myself again. But this time the president wasn’t the president anymore, and I didn’t have a home, and my name was still my name. I could do the math, sure, but I decided all the same to just lie down for a while. I gazed at the roof of the house like I was flying.
Eventually I had to take my eyes off it, so I looked around the cavernous room. It wasn’t really just rectangular. It had wide scoops on opposite ends, like wings. Like a huge half-pipe. And all around were doors marked with bright signs. One door said
FROGWORTH’S HOPPING PAD
TOONTOPIA
ABRAHAM SUPERLINCOLN’S TIME MACHINE
and another said
BIG ROCK CANDY MOUNTAIN
GALAXANDER’S LUNAR LANDER
But I knew I didn’t have time for those. What I really wanted was through door number three:
MISTER SCHWA’S GRAMMAZING
VOCABULARCOASTER
SNOW QUEEN’S CASTLE
The second thing; not the first one.
I didn’t really want to leave the room without some clue as to why the Haunted House, or a haunted house, was dangling from the rafters like that. There had to be a sign somewhere with an explanation. But I had things to do. J.Lo would start to worry. I pulled open the door to the castle slowly and quietly, and left the mystery and the humming generator behind.
If I’d been expecting anything remarkable behind the door, I was wrong. It was only a dark hallway, and I flicked my flashlight back and forth in front of me to guard against any surprises. The corridor curved slightly to the right. I passed a door to the Mister Schwa ride, and the corridor curved back, and I saw a light. Not my light, but something soft and orange down the hall. I switched off the flashlight and saw the outline of another door, maybe fifty feet ahead.
I raised my bottle of glass cleaner and fingered the trigger as I crept forward. There were voices. Laughing. In a weird way you can always tell when a sound is a person’s voice, and usually tell that they’re speaking English, even when you can’t make out anything they’re saying. I relaxed a little and reached for the door handle, and suddenly felt something against my shoe. Something that gave a little, like a rubber band, and just as I realized what I’d done, there came a great loud noise of cans and spoons clattering together at the edges of the hallway.
I’m not going to write down what I said at this point.
Then the door swung forward, so I hopped back a little and saw a dark shape come at me, and that’s when I sort of accidentally squirted it where its head would be.
“Ow! Ooowwwww!” said the shape. I trained my flashlight on it, and saw it was just a kid. A boy, maybe nine or ten.
“Ooooowwwwwwwwwww!” he moaned, pawing at his face. I heard a rustle from beyond the door, and he was soon joined by other boys, six, then seven and eight of them. They looked at me like they’d never seen a black girl with a flashlight before.
“I’m sorry. That was an
It was perfect in every detail: the broken shutters, the bent weather vane, even the fake black cat screeching silently over the front porch. On the ceiling itself was a little plot of land, fake grass and mud, with gravestones and wiry trees hanging down like stalactites. Or stalagmites. I can never remember which is which.
I sat heavily on the floor, dumbstruck. I wondered how I’d know if I was crazy. Is there a blood test, or can you just pee in a cup or something? Once I was in a bicycle accident, and I lay in the street for a long time afterward. People surrounded me and wouldn’t let me stand up until the paramedics arrived. When they did, they asked if I knew who the president was, and what state I lived in, and how much was three times seven. When I answered everything correctly they seemed pleased, so they asked my name and I said “Gratuity,” and then they wouldn’t let me up until I told them it was “Janet.”
Anyway, sitting there, I decided to test myself again. But this time the president wasn’t the president anymore, and I didn’t have a home, and my name was still my name. I could do the math, sure, but I decided all the same to just lie down for a while. I gazed at the roof of the house like I was flying.
Eventually I had to take my eyes off it, so I looked around the cavernous room. It wasn’t really just rectangular. It had wide scoops on opposite ends, like wings. Like a huge half-pipe. And all around were doors marked with bright signs. One door said
FROGWORTH’S HOPPING PAD
TOONTOPIA
ABRAHAM SUPERLINCOLN’S TIME MACHINE
and another said
BIG ROCK CANDY MOUNTAIN
GALAXANDER’S LUNAR LANDER
But I knew I didn’t have time for those. What I really wanted was through door number three:
MISTER SCHWA’S GRAMMAZING
VOCABULARCOASTER
SNOW QUEEN’S CASTLE
The second thing; not the first one.
I didn’t really want to leave the room without some clue as to why the Haunted House, or a haunted house, was dangling from the rafters like that. There had to be a sign somewhere with an explanation. But I had things to do. J.Lo would start to worry. I pulled open the door to the castle slowly and quietly, and left the mystery and the humming generator behind.
If I’d been expecting anything remarkable behind the door, I was wrong. It was only a dark hallway, and I flicked my flashlight back and forth in front of me to guard against any surprises. The corridor curved slightly to the right. I passed a door to the Mister Schwa ride, and the corridor curved back, and I saw a light. Not my light, but something soft and orange down the hall. I switched off the flashlight and saw the outline of another door, maybe fifty feet ahead.
I raised my bottle of glass cleaner and fingered the trigger as I crept forward. There were voices. Laughing. In a weird way you can always tell when a sound is a person’s voice, and usually tell that they’re speaking English, even when you can’t make out anything they’re saying. I relaxed a little and reached for the door handle, and suddenly felt something against my shoe. Something that gave a little, like a rubber band, and just as I realized what I’d done, there came a great loud noise of cans and spoons clattering together at the edges of the hallway.
I’m not going to write down what I said at this point.
Then the door swung forward, so I hopped back a little and saw a dark shape come at me, and that’s when I sort of accidentally squirted it where its head would be.
“Ow! Ooowwwww!” said the shape. I trained my flashlight on it, and saw it was just a kid. A boy, maybe nine or ten.
“Ooooowwwwwwwwwww!” he moaned, pawing at his face. I heard a rustle from beyond the door, and he was soon joined by other boys, six, then seven and eight of them. They looked at me like they’d never seen a black girl with a flashlight before.
“I’m sorry. That was an
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