A Valiant Quest for the Misfit Menagerie by Jacqueline Resnick

Author:Jacqueline Resnick [Resnick, Jacqueline]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781101604472
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2013-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Invisible Boy

Bertie woke to the sound of footsteps. “Smalls?” he murmured. He patted the ground next to him without opening his eyes. But seconds passed, and no sun bear cuddled up to him. Nearby, the footsteps grew louder. Two footsteps, Bertie realized, not four. Human footsteps.

He bolted upright, suddenly wide awake. The memory of last night came flooding back to him. He’d only meant to lie down in the wooden tree for a minute, but he must have fallen asleep. Moving quietly, Bertie crept down the stairs and peeked out the door of the tree. The footsteps belonged to a woman. She was wearing a blue-and-white-striped uniform shirt and a nametag that read: MARIE, Certified Toy Specialist! Sunlight poured in through the store’s windows as the woman eyed the lamp Bertie had turned on last night.

“Someone must have forgotten to turn this off.” She shrugged and began moving through the store, flipping light switches and straightening shelves. “I hate working Saturdays,” she mumbled. “Always the busiest day of the week.” She stopped behind a long blue counter and pushed several buttons on the cash register. She was opening the store, Bertie realized. He ducked back into the tree, his heart pounding. He just hoped Smalls and Wombat knew to hide.

• • •

Footsteps. Smalls heard footsteps above him. And not Bertie’s, either. Heavier, denser footsteps. He leapt to his paws. His fur was sticky with honey, and several empty jars were scattered around him. A few feet away, Wombat was fast asleep, his head resting on an empty jar of yogurt-covered pretzels. “Wombat,” he hissed, nudging him awake. Last night, they’d stayed up for hours brainstorming ways to save Tilda from the turret she was trapped in. At some point, they must have both drifted off. “Wombat,” he said again, nudging him harder.

“Tilda?” Wombat’s head snapped up, his eyes popping open. “Oh. It’s just you.”

“Me and someone else,” Smalls said. He gestured to the ceiling, where the footsteps were working their way across the main room of the store.

Wombat flicked his ears, listening hard. “Not Tilda,” he said with a sigh.

“No, but someone we probably don’t want to see us,” Smalls pointed out. “Not if we want to find Tilda—and Rigby and Susan too.”

That got Wombat to his feet. As he stretched out his paws, Smalls gathered up the empty jars, burying them in the bottom of a large tub of jellybeans. He clumsily rearranged the honey tower, hoping no one would notice that it stood a little shorter than yesterday. At the last minute, he snatched another jar in his teeth. A bear couldn’t be expected to skip breakfast, after all. “Follow me,” he whispered to Wombat. Padding softly across the floor, he took off to find a place to hide.

• • •

It didn’t take long for the store to fill up with people. Bertie looked nervously around as he slipped out of the tree. But he quickly discovered there was no need to worry. In the midst of all

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