Read Online 100 Cupboards by N. D. Wilson - Free Book Online Page B

and looked away. “I don’t think it’s magic,” he said. “I think it’s just something really unusual.”
    â€œHenry,” Henrietta said. She leaned forward and spoke slowly. “It’s not raining outside, and we don’t have any trees back there.”
    â€œI know,” Henry said. “I just think it’s something like Quantum.”
    â€œWhat’s Quantum?” Henrietta asked.
    â€œWell,” Henry said, “my dad says it’s when things can sometimes be where they aren’t, or two places at once.”
    â€œSounds like magic.”
    â€œNo, it’s natural,” Henry said. He was rocking nervously. “It just happens.”
    â€œYou couldn’t make something Quantum?” Henrietta asked.
    â€œIt’s only for really little things.”
    â€œThe cupboard’s little.”
    â€œNo,” Henry said. “Really little. And trees and rain and wind aren’t little.”
    â€œOkay. They’re too big to be Quantum,” Henrietta said. “So it has to be magic.”
    Henry wasn’t sure what to say. He would have liked to discover that the whole thing was just some sort of trick, that he wouldn’t really be sleeping beside a bunch of magic cupboards, but he didn’t know any other way to explain what had just happened.
    â€œI don’t know,” he finally said.
    Henrietta shivered suddenly, bounced up on her knees, and focused her wide eyes on Henry. “Aren’t you excited to see what’s behind the other doors? There could be all sorts of things!”
    Henry sat very still. “Aren’t you scared at all?” he asked. “I mean, we might find something bad.”
    â€œEverybody always finds bad things,” she said. “And things only get hidden like this if they’re really bad or really good.” She bounced again. “We’ll just have to find out.”
    â€œI don’t know,” Henry said again. Despite his concerns, he was truly curious about the cupboards. He knew that if they got another one open, he would be terrified. But he would be sick with himself if he didn’t try.
    â€œDo you think the key opens another one?”
    Henrietta pointed to it. Henry looked down at the key in his hand. He was about to say “I don’t know” for the third time when a rumbling, motorcycle-sounding engine fired up at the bottom of his stairs. Shoving the key in his pocket, he and Henrietta scrambled down the stairs.
    At the bottom, they found Uncle Frank wearing plastic goggles and standing in front of Grandfather’s door with a chain saw. He began singing something, then braced himself and pulled the trigger. As a cloud of black smoke blew out the back of the saw, the chain blade spun into loud motion. He leaned the blade back and slowly lowered it onto the door. When it touched, wood chips began flying all over the landing. It looked like Frank was fighting to keep the blade from sliding. It began to skid, and Frank spread his legs a little more. Then the saw caught on something and kicked back. The full force of the spinning chain threw Frank against the wall. He jumped as the saw, barely in his left hand, swung down toward his legs. It didn’t hit them, but its nose caught the floor. In one short second, the saw dug itself in, shredding and wrapping long strands of green carpet around itself. There, nestled cozily into the floor, it idled. Panting, Frank reached down and turned off the engine.
    Dotty was at the top of the stairs. She looked at Frank, then at the saw burrowed into the landing. She looked at Frank again.
    â€œTime to go,” she said. “We’re due at the barbeque. You okay, Frank?”
    Frank rubbed his cheek on his arm. “My pride’s on the lower end,” he said. “Floor’s a bit dinged.” He reached down and pulled at the quiet saw. It wouldn’t budge. “I’ll cut it out