Read Online Wuftoom by Mary G. Thompson - Free Book Online

smile and tapped the fingers of her right hand shakily against the counter. “You know, same old.” She glanced up at the clock, wiping a stray hair out of her face with her left hand.
    â€œRoy late again?” asked Evan.
    His mother squinted at him. “Do I know you?”
    â€œI come here a lot,” said Evan. He noticed that his mother was wearing a name tag. SHARON, it said.
    His mother shrugged. Her eyes were wet, and now that Evan was really looking, he could see that they were bloodshot. “Yeah,” she said. “He’s late.”
    â€œThey should fire him,” said Evan.
    His mother smiled, her eyes lighting up a little bit. “That’s what my son says.” Her smile faded again. She chewed her lip and looked down at the counter, fingers still tapping.
    â€œHey!” a lady behind him said. “Are you done?”
    Evan moved out of the way. The man was pushing against his mind, but he couldn’t let him go just yet. He moved over to the magazine rack and picked up a newspaper, still watching his mother out of the corner of the man’s eye.
    â€œYou know people are waiting, right—Sharon?” said the lady, slamming a Diet Coke down on the counter. There was no one behind her.
    â€œI’m sorry about that,” said his mother.
    Evan watched the struggle of his mother’s hands as she stuffed the lady’s wrinkled bills into the rusting cash register. Her hands shook, and she looked up at the clock again. She was obviously trying not to cry—over him. Why had he told her what was happening to him? He could have waited until the very last second, at least spared her a little bit of this.
    The lady left, leaving the store empty except for Evan and his mother. His mother wiped a tear away, then glanced at him, then looked down, wiping her eyes fiercely.
    Evan had forgotten who he was in. This strange man must be making the situation even worse. He jumped out of the man and hovered in the air above the magazine rack.
    The man looked around him, put down the newspaper, and headed for the door. As he pushed the door open, he bumped smack into Roy.
    â€œWatch where you’re going,” said Roy. He was tall and thin, except for a potbelly that stuck straight out from his middle, and older than Evan’s mother. “Hey, Sharon.”
    Without thinking about what he was doing, Evan jumped into Roy. Suddenly, he had a close-up of his mother’s face.
    â€œI am so sorry,” said Evan. “I know what I’ve put you through.” He stopped, closed Roy’s eyes, remembered who he was in. “I know how much it means to you to spend time with your son. I promise it won’t be a problem again.” He wanted to reach out and put his arms around her, but he knew Roy couldn’t do that. He had to stand there, watch her try to hold the tears back.
    â€œGoodbye, Roy.” She grabbed her purse from under the counter and rushed out, not looking behind her.
    Evan jumped out of Roy and followed her.
    She slid into her dirty old station wagon and peeled out of the parking lot. She was crying freely now, speeding and careening around corners.
    Evan wanted to cry too, floating inside the car, rolling with the turns. Which would be worse for her? he wondered. Having him here, or having him gone?
    As she pulled into the driveway, Evan slid back into himself. He tried to lift his head, but it barely moved. While he had been out of his body, his head had lolled forward and the membranes had grown from his chin into his chest. As he struggled to move, they stretched only a little. His webbed hand lay, twisted, on the wood square. From the way his fingers were now curled, he knew he would never be able to open them well enough to use the square again. And a thick membrane had grown down from his nose, sewing his lips almost completely shut.
    The light fixture fell from the ceiling and landed on Evan’s leg. He yelped. It was a