Sally squinted in disbelief. “ Chirrun. Ya know-you’s a kid, a child. More than one of ya- chirrun. ”
“I think he means children, ” Sofia said.
Sally took a step to the side, then motioned around the back of the metal block. “You kids wanna come back with me? Get ya sumthin’ to fill dem tummies?”
“Where’d you come from?” Paul asked, leaning to get a look around the metal wall. “Is there seriously a whole city under us? Under these roofs?”
“Like I said, boy, we standin’ on the Roofens. Probably done shaved purtin’ near six months off your life stayin’ out chere for so long. Dis dirty air’ll eat yer innards quicker than a beaver on balsa wood.”
“What’s wrong with the air?” Tick asked.
Sally did his funny squint again. “I reckon you folks ain’t lyin’ when you says yer lost. These parts ’bout as polluted as my granny’s toenails. Why do you think they built dem cities under all this here metal?”
“Why’d you come up here, then?” Sofia asked.
Sally paused, his eyes darting back and forth. “I, uh, well, ya see, the thing is…” He scratched his beard. “See, I done heard yer little twitter feet up on my ceilin’ there, so I come up to do some investigatin’. Yep, that’s what I reckon, far as I recall.”
Tick exchanged a baffled look with Sofia and Paul. It didn’t take a genius to realize they’d already caught Sally in his first lie.
“Well,” Tick said, “we need a minute to talk about what we’re gonna do.”
“Go on, then,” Sally said. “I ain’t got a mind to bother dem there bid’ness and matter, such as it were.”
“Huh?” Paul asked.
Tick quickly grabbed his friend by the shoulders and turned him away from Sally, pulling him into a huddle with Sofia.
“So what do we do?” Tick whispered.
“That guy’s something else, ain’t he?” Paul asked. “I can barely understand a word he says.”
“I’m already getting used to it,” Sofia said. “If you ignore every third word or so, it makes perfect sense.”
“But what do we do? ” Tick insisted.
“What else?” Paul said. “Go with this dude and get something to eat.”
“How do we know he’s safe?” Tick asked.
“Dude, get off the sissy train. There are three of us and one of him.”
“He seems perfectly harmless,” Sofia said. “I vote we go with him. We can’t walk around up here for the rest of our lives.”
“Plus,” Paul said, “he said this air’s really polluted. I’m not real cool on the whole lung-cancer thing. Let’s do it.”
Sofia nodded. “I’m dying to see what’s down there.”
Tick thought for a second. He felt uneasy, but he knew it was because their lives had gone flat-out crazy the last couple of days. Sally was definitely holding something back, and that made Tick nervous, but Paul was right- they had him outnumbered.
“All right,” he whispered, then turned to Sally. “Sir, we really appreciate the offer to go to your house. We’re really hungry, and, uh, lost.”
Sally smiled and rubbed his belly. “I ain’t said nothing about goin’ to my house. But I know a restaurant’s got some good eatin’. Come on, den.” He waved his arm in a beckoning gesture as he turned and walked back the way he’d come.
Tick, Sofia, and Paul paused. But then they followed.
Sally led them through a small trapdoor and down a very long and steep set of wooden stairs, which looked out of place amidst all the surrounding metal. The way was dark and hot, humid and reeking of something rotten. Tick felt more nervous by the second, worried they were walking into a trap, but he didn’t know what else to do. Where could they go? Who could they trust?
For now, Sally was their only friend in the world. This world, anyway.
They reached the bottom of the stairs and proceeded down a long hallway, their surroundings remaining unchanged. A faint light from ahead revealed black water seeping down the wooden walls. A rat scurried by Tick’s foot; he barely stopped himself from crying out like the startled maid in an old cartoon.
Sally finally stopped next to a warped door of splintered wood, an iron handle barely hanging on. “Prepare dem hearts a’yorn,” he said. “This place ain’t like none such you ever saw.” He pushed the door, and everyone watched as it swung outward, creaking loudly.
“Follow Uncle Sally and you chirrun might live another day or two.” He stepped through the doorway.
Sofia went first, then Paul, then Tick. For the next several minutes, Tick felt as if his brain might explode from taking in the completely alien place.
Stretching before them, below them, above them, was an endless world of chaos. Long rows of roughly cobbled pathways ran in every direction, with no pattern or regularity. Shops and inns and pubs crowded close on all sides. Hundreds of people bustled about. Dirty, ripped awnings hung over the places of business, wooden signs dangling from chains. On these signs were printed the only means of distinguishing one building from another-their names carved and painted onto the wood. Places called such things as The Axeman’s Guild and The Darkhorse Inn and The Sordid Swine.
Some of the pathways were actually bridges, and Tick could see the levels below, overlapping and seemingly built on top of each other. The same was true above them, balconies and bridges spanning every direction, up and up and up until Tick saw the black roof that covered everything. The ceiling was filled with small rectangles of fluorescent lights, half of which were flickering or burned out altogether.
It was the universe’s worst mall.
Paul leaned over and whispered to Tick, “Dude, check these people out.”
Tick focused on the occupants of the enormous indoor town. Most of them slumped along, barely speaking to each other, many with hunched shoulders or an odd limp. Black seemed to be the color of choice for their clothes, everyone wearing drab and dirty garments with rips and tears aplenty. The people’s faces were dirty too, with disheveled, greasy hair. The only spots of color were an occasional red scarf or green shawl or yellow vest, worn by those who seemed to walk with a little more confidence than the others.
And the smell-it was like a port-a-potty dumping ground, a foul, putrid stench that made Tick gag reflexively every few seconds until he grew somewhat used to it.
“Sally,” Sofia coughed, “I think we were better off on the Roofens.”
“Quit yer poutin’ and come on,” Sally replied, shuffling off to the right.
Tick and the others followed, dodging through the lazy crowd of sullen, black-clad residents, who seemed to be marching toward their destinations with no purpose whatsoever. Tick didn’t see one person smiling. For that matter, none of them showed emotion at all-not a sneer, not a grimace, not a frown to be found.
“We’ve gotta get out of here,” Tick whispered, scared to offend anyone around him but feeling a surge of panic well up inside him. He didn’t know how much longer he could last in this horrible place. “We need to solve that riddle, quick.”
“No kidding,” Paul said. “I’ve just about had my fill of Happy Town.”
“It’s not just that,” Tick said, still speaking quietly. “Something’s not right here-it’s not safe.”
Sally moved them to the side of their current path, next to a small iron table outside a restaurant called The Stinky Stew.
“Have’n yerselves a seat on dem cheers.” He pointed to the four crooked wooden chairs surrounding the table. “I’ll be back with some eats.”
As their guide entered the restaurant, a rusty bell ringing with the movement of the door, Tick and the others pulled out the chairs and sat down. Tick eyeballed the people walking by, looking for potential trouble. Seeing nothing but the unchanging mass of zombie-like shoppers, he said to Sofia, “Get the riddle out.”
Sofia did, putting the paper on the table in front of her. Tick and Paul scooted their chairs across the uneven stones of the floor until they could see the words of the long poem.
Inside the words of the words inside,
There lies a secret to unhide.
