“Did you ever see anything like that?”
“Sure. Lots of times,” said Burnfingers. “On the reservation. Sheep guts.” Behind him, Wendy made a face.
“How do I know which one to take? There aren’t any signs. Leastwise nothing I can read.”
There were a good three dozen possible routes, provided one took into account suspension of certain natural laws. Objects floated around, over, and through several of the roadways. Some were even recognizable.
“We could ask the fish,” Wendy suggested, “if they’d come back.”
Her father looked to the side. A school of silvery shapes glided through the air half a mile distant. They showed no sign of moving closer.
“Maybe if we just wait,” Alicia said hopefully, “someone will come along who can give us directions.”
“Sure, and maybe we’ll all come apart like toys.”
“Or turn into fish!” Only Steven was excited by the possibility. “I wanna be a tuna.”
“You like to eat tuna,” his mother reminded him gently, “but I don’t think you’d like to be one.”
“I would if I could fly.”
“Nobody’s flying anywhere,” his father said sternly, “least of all in this motor home. This is our anchor, the one stable thing in this whole crazy place. Nobody turns into anything unless we all do so together.” He looked at his wife. “I think you’re right, hon. I think we stay here until we can get or figure out directions, even if we have to ask an oak tree in Bermuda shorts.”
But nothing much came by, certainly nothing likely to offer directions. Once a school of large sardines swam over the top of the motor home. They giggled ceaselessly while ignoring the bipedal entities trapped inside.
“Wish we hadn’t used up all the propane,” Frank muttered as he nibbled on a sack of Doritos.
“We did not have much choice,” Burnfingers reminded him. “We could not make a partial bomb. As for myself, I am enjoying the cold snack food. For a long time all the food I had to eat was hot.”
“You think we’ll ever get out of here?” Flucca asked him.
“Of course we will.” Burnfingers chewed on a pepperoni stick. “We have gotten out of every other place we’ve been.”
“I wish I had your confidence.” Frank stared morosely at the impossible interchange frustrating their progress.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Alicia patted his arm. “We’ll make it. Hand me that box of raisins if you’re finished, will you?”
“Sure.” He complied, found she was eyeing him strangely. “Something wrong?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then what are you staring at?”
“Your arm.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing, I guess. Except you used to have only two.”
He frowned at her, then down at himself. A third arm had grown from one shoulder. He raised it, watched the fingers respond to mental commands with a mix of fascination and horror.
“The fish.” Mouse was staring at him, too. “The fish said something about our ‘request’ selves.”
“That’s neat, Dad,” said Steven. “Can you grow another one?”
“What are you talking about? I don’t know. I don’t want to.” As he finished, a fourth arm emerged, then two more. He tested them all, wiggling the fingers, the arms bending and moving gracefully. “This could be handy, except when you needed a new shirt.”
“You always were the grabby type,” Alicia told him.
“Don’t get funny. What about you? If I’m gonna look ridiculous I don’t want to do it alone.”
“All right.” She closed her eyes and strained. Her arms did not multiply, but a faint pink aura appeared in the air surrounding her, a rose-hued mist. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I can’t do it.”
“But you did something else,” Mouse told her. “Try again.”
Alicia took a deep breath and concentrated. Soon a tremendous feeling of health and well-being filled the motor home, wiping away fear and concern, relaxing them all, reassuring and warming. It radiated from Alicia, a pure femininity encompassing sensuality and maternal affection. Frank recognized it right away. He’d felt it before, only nowhere near as powerfully. It was one of the things that had first attracted him to his wife. She’d always had it. The difference here was that instead of concealing it within, she could let it spread outward like a bracing pink wave.
She slumped, blinking. “That felt good, even if I didn’t grow any extra arms.”
“It made all of us feel good.” Mouse was smiling. “That’s a very special ability, Alicia. Maybe more than roads intersect at this place.”
“Hey, look at me, everybody!”
They all turned. Flucca stood in the middle of the motor home, gesturing excitedly. “Watch this.” As they stared, two Fluccas ran toward each other and melted together, like a trick on television.
“Do that again,” Burnfingers asked him.
“No problem.” Snapping his fingers for effect, the dwarf executed a neat pirouette. One of him jumped left, the other to the right, and once more there were two of him. The first jumped on the second’s shoulders. Four stubby arms extended parallel to the floor.
