Kate DiCamillo: Flora & Ulysses

It was not her father at the door.

It was Tootie.

“Tootie Tickham!” said Flora.

Tootie stepped through the door and into the living room, and then she stopped. Her eyes widened. “What in the world?” she said.

Flora didn’t even bother turning around. She knew what Tootie was looking at.

“That’s the little shepherdess,” said Flora. “The guardian of lost sheep and light. Or something. She belongs to my mother.”

“Right,” said Tootie. She shook her head. “Well, never mind about the lamp.” She took another step closer to Flora. “Where’s the squirrel?” she whispered.

“Upstairs,” Flora whispered back.

“I’ve come to check and see if what I think happened yesterday actually happened, or if I’m the victim of an extended hallucination.”

Flora looked Tootie in the eye. She said, “Ulysses can type.”

“Who can type?” said Tootie.

“The squirrel. He’s a superhero.”

Tootie said, “For heaven’s sake, what kind of superhero types?”

It was a good (and also slightly disturbing) point. How, exactly, was a typing squirrel going to fight villains and change the world?

“George?” shouted Flora’s mother.

“It’s not Pop!” Flora shouted back. “It’s Mrs. Tickham.”

There was a silence from the kitchen, and then Flora’s mother came into the living room with a big, fake adult smile plastered on her face. “Mrs. Tickham,” she said. “What a lovely surprise. What can we do for you?”

Tootie smiled a big, fake adult smile back. “Oh,” she said. “I just came to pay Flora a visit.”

“Who?”

“Flora,” said Tootie. “Your daughter.”

“Really?” said Flora’s mother. “You came to see Flora?”

“I’ll be right back,” said Flora.

She ran out of the living room and through the dining room.

“What a truly extraordinary lamp,” she heard Tootie say.

“Oh, do you like it?” said Flora’s mother.

Ha! thought Flora.

And then she was out of the dining room and into the kitchen. She ripped the paper out of the typewriter and looked down at the words; they were absolutely not a hallucination.

“Holy bagumba,” said Flora.

A loud scream echoed through the house.

Flora took the paper and shoved it down the front of her pajamas and ran back into the living room.

Ulysses was sitting on top of Mary Ann.

Or rather, he was trying to sit on top of Mary Ann.

His feet were scrabbling to gain purchase on the little shepherdess’s pink-flowered lampshade. He paused in his efforts and looked at Flora in an apologetic and hopeful way, and then he returned to wobbling back and forth.

“Oh, my goodness,” said Tootie.

“How did it get in here?” shouted Flora’s mother. “It just came flying down the stairs.”

“Yes,” said Tootie. She gave Flora a meaningful look. “ Flying. ”

“It absolutely scared the living daylights out of me and Mrs. Tickham. We screamed.”

“We did,” said Tootie. “We screamed. There’s just no end to the excitement.”

“If that squirrel breaks my lamp, I don’t know what I’ll do. Mary Ann is very precious to me.”

“Mary Ann?” said Tootie.

“I’ll just get him off the lamp, okay?” said Flora. She put out a hand.

“Don’t touch it!” screamed her mother. “It has a disease.”

The doorbell, as if it were echoing Flora’s mother’s advice, buzzed its terrible warning buzz.

Flora and her mother and Tootie all turned.

A small voice called out.

The voice said, “Great-Aunt Tootie?”

There was a boy at the door.

He was short, and his hair was so blond that it looked almost white. His eyes were hidden behind enormous dark glasses.

In addition to TERRIBLE THINGS CAN HAPPEN TO YOU!,The Illuminated Adventures of the Amazing Incandesto! regularly featured a second bonus comic entitled The Criminal Element Is Among Us. The Criminal Element gave very specific pointers on how to never, ever be fooled by a criminal, and one of the oft-repeated dictums of The Criminal Element was that the best way to get to know a person was to look him or her directly in the eye.

Flora tried to look the boy in the eye, but all she saw was a reflection of herself in his dark glasses.

She looked short and uncertain, like an accordion in pajamas.

“William,” said Tootie, “I told you to stay put.”

“I heard screaming,” said the boy. His voice was high and thin. “I was concerned. I came as fast as I could. Unfortunately, on the way over here, I had a small but extremely violent encounter with some variety of shrub. And now I’m bleeding. I think I’m bleeding. I’m pretty sure I smell blood. But no one should be concerned. Please, don’t overreact.”

“This,” said Tootie, “is my nephew.”

“Great-nephew,” said the boy. “And I hope I don’t need stitches. Do you think I need stitches?”

“His name is William,” said Tootie.

“William Spiver, actually,” said Tootie’s nephew. “I prefer to be called William Spiver. It distinguishes me from the multiplicity of Williams in the world.” He smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, whoever you are. I would shake your hand, but as I said, I think I’m bleeding. Also, I’m blind.”

“You are not blind,” said Tootie.

“I am suffering from a temporary blindness induced by trauma,” said William Spiver.

Temporary blindness induced by trauma.

The words sent a chill down Flora’s spine.

Seemingly, there was no end to the things that could go wrong with human beings. Why hadn’t TERRIBLE THINGS CAN HAPPEN TO YOU! done an issue on temporary blindness induced by trauma? Or, for that matter, one on extended hallucinations?

“I am temporarily blind,” said William Spiver again.

“How unfortunate,” said Flora’s mother.

“He’s not blind,” said Tootie. “But as of this morning, he is staying with me for the summer. Imagine my surprise and excitement.”

“I have nowhere else to go, Great-Aunt Tootie,” said William Spiver. “You know that. I am at the mercy of the winds of fate.”

“Oh,” said Flora’s mother. She clapped her hands. “How wonderful. A little friend for Flora.”

“I don’t need a little friend,” said Flora.

“Of course you do,” said her mother. She turned to Tootie. “Flora is very lonely. She spends far too much time reading comics. I’ve tried to break her of the habit, but I’m very busy with my novel writing and she is alone a lot. I’m worried that it has made her strange.”

“I’m not strange,” said Flora. This seemed like a safe statement to make when someone as truly, profoundly strange as William Spiver was standing beside her.

“I would be happy to be your friend,” said William Spiver. “Honored.” He bowed.

“How lovely,” said Flora’s mother.

“Yes,” said Flora. “How lovely.”

“The blind,” said William Spiver, “even the temporarily blind, have an excellent sense of smell.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” said Tootie. “Here we go.”

“I have to tell you that I smell something out of the ordinary, something that is not usually smelled within the confines of the human domestic sphere,” said William Spiver. He cleared his throat. “I smell squirrel.”