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

ears, but his arms were pinned, and the sound seemed to come into everywhere at once, ringing his toes as much as his head.
    Then all the membranes on his body tightened. They wrapped and squeezed, and Evan flopped and tugged, but it was useless. He was stuck, folded in a little, now more like a banana than a Popsicle, staring up blurrily at the light fixture that was now a gaping hole. He wondered if Foul was up there in the darkness, looking back at him, salivating. He tried to close his eyes to keep from looking up, but they wouldn’t close. The membranes squeezed even tighter, and his whole body gasped for air. He sucked with his nose, but nothing came in through the mask. His blurry eyes got blurrier, and then, for a second, it all went black.
    He came to with a deep breath. Like the sound, the air seemed to come in from all over, as though his whole body was a lung. He struggled to move, and instead of pushing against membranes so tight it was useless, he flew up with his effort and fell right off the bed, landing on where his nose should have been. But instead of a nose, he felt a flatness, and instead of a throbbing pain from falling, he felt as if he had landed face-first on a cushion.
    He moved his arms forward to push himself up, and they came easily. He pressed what should have been his hands against the floor. They were nubs without fingers, but when he pushed with them, they held his weight. He rolled back on his now- kneeless legs, until he was sitting upright, legs folded under him like rubber tubes.
    He rolled curiously back and forth, but there was no pain at all, only a slight rubbing sensation. No pain at all!
    He looked down at himself. His vision was clear now. Clearer than it had ever been. He had grown used to things being a little blurry. They had blurred a little more each year since he was too young to remember. But now, even in the dim light, he could see with perfect sharpness. It seemed much lighter in the room now. He saw shadows where he had never seen them before. Edges where there had been only shapes.
    He saw his own arms, pink like the creature’s, covered in the yellowed membrane. But the membrane no longer held him. It moved and stretched, just like his skin had. He lifted his arms and made a circle with them. They were easy to lift and did just as he asked.
    Evan sprang up, pushing easily off his new nub legs, his heart starting to sing. He could move again! He could see! His legs held him with no trouble. He kicked one out in front of him and then the other. They moved so well!
    He could still hear his mother’s now-quieter crying from behind the door. What should he do? Should he call out to her, tell her he would be all right, that he was better now? Or should he leave her, not let her see him? Would seeing him frighten her more than his death?
    â€œMom!” he said finally, pressing his face against the door.
    â€œEvan?”
    He heard her standing, swallowing a last faint sniff. Evan was aware that his voice sounded different, more rough, and lower. He wondered if he would sometimes growl and sometimes hiss, just like the others.
    â€œYes, it’s me! Please don’t come in. It will be too horrible, I know it will. It was for me when I first saw one.” He heard the doorknob turn, just a little, as though she couldn’t think of what to do.
    â€œMom, I look awful. You’ll be disgusted. But I’m all right. I can move again! I’m up out of bed.” He heard her sob at this, but with relief.
    â€œOh, honey,” she sobbed. “I don’t care how you look. Of course I don’t care. You’re still my baby, no matter what you look like!”
    Evan pushed his body against the door with all his strength. He was much stronger than he had been an hour ago, but he was not sure how strong.
    â€œI care!” he cried. “I care!”
    â€œOh, honey, you can really move?” She sounded happy. And Evan was happy too. To be