Flora & Ulysses

So,” said Dr. Meescham, “we have been speaking with Ulysses. We have been working to understand his story. From what we have put together so far, it involves a shovel and a sack. And the woods. And a poem.”

“And a giant donut,” said Flora’s father.

Ulysses, sitting on Flora’s shoulder, nodded vigorously. A distinctly fishy smell emanated from his whiskers.

Flora turned to him. “Where’s my mother?” she said.

Ulysses shook his head.

“Pop?” said Flora. “Where’s Mom?”

“I’m not certain,” said her father. He adjusted his hat. He tried to put his hands in his pockets, and then he realized he was wearing pajamas and had no pockets. He laughed. “Holy bagumba,” he said softly.

“We need a typewriter,” said Flora.

Ulysses nodded.

“We need a typewriter so that we can get to the truth,” said Flora.

“The truth,” said William Spiver, “is a slippery thing. I doubt that you will ever get to The Truth. You may get to a version of the truth. But The Truth? I doubt it very seriously.”

“Will you please, please shut up, William Spiver?” said Flora.

“Shhh,” said Dr. Meescham. “Calm, calm. You should maybe sit and eat a sardine.”

“I don’t want a sardine,” said Flora. “I want to know what happened. I want to know where my mother is.”

Just as she said these words, there was a bang, which was followed by a long, bone-chilling yowl, which was, in turn, followed by a very loud scream.

“What was that?” said William Spiver.

“That’s Mr. Klaus,” said Flora. “He’s attacking someone.”

There was another scream, and then came the words, “George, George!”

“Uh-oh,” said Flora’s father. “It’s Phyllis.”

“Mom,” said Flora.

Ulysses tensed. He dug his claws into Flora’s shoulder.

Flora looked at him.

He nodded.

And then Flora’s father was running out the door, and Flora was behind him and William Spiver was behind her. Another of her mother’s screams echoed down the hallway. “George, George,” she shouted, “please tell me that my baby is here!”

Flora turned and said to Tootie, “Bring the lamp! She’s worried about Mary Ann.”

There was another scream.

Me? thought Flora.

“She’s here,” said Flora’s father.

Flora’s mother started to cry.

“Everyone needs to calm down,” said Tootie. “I’ve got it.” She waded into the fray and whacked Mr. Klaus over the head with Mary Ann.

The cat fell to the ground, and the little shepherdess, as if she were astonished by her own act of violence, crumbled. Her face — her beautiful, perfect pink face — broke. There was a tinkle and a crash as the pieces of Mary Ann’s head hit the floor.

“Oops,” said Tootie. “I broke her.”

“Uh-oh,” said Flora.

But her mother wasn’t looking at the lamp or what was left of the lamp. She was looking at Flora.

“Flora,” her mother said. “Flora. I went home, and you weren’t there. I was terrified.”

“Here she is,” said William Spiver. He gave Flora a gentle shove toward her mother.

“Here I am,” said Flora.

Her mother stepped over the pieces of the broken little shepherdess. She took Flora in her arms.

“My baby,” said her mother.

“Me?” said Flora.

“You,” said her mother.