Free The Sound of Life and Everything by Krista Van Dolzer

that game, then I’d play it, too. “Well, I’m not changin’ mine.”
    â€œThen it appears we’re at an impasse.”
    â€œWhat’s an impasse?” I asked.
    â€œA stalemate,” Mama said. “Which means we’ll need someone to break it.”
    Dr. Franks harrumphed. “Well, it shouldn’t be
you.
”
    â€œNo,” Mama agreed, “it should be someone impartial, someone—”
    â€œIn charge?” I asked.
    â€œExactly,” Mama said.
    I smiled mysteriously. “Then I know just the person.”
    Mama cocked an eyebrow, and a part of me worried that she was going to try to stop me. But instead of getting in my way, she got out of it. And smiled.
Go ahead, sweetness,
that smile seemed to say.
If anyone can do this, you can.
    As it turned out, the head honcho was pretty easy to find. I just shouted Dr. Pauling’s name as I dashed up and down the halls, taking random lefts and rights. Every intersection looked the same, so it wasn’t hard to choose. Doors slid open in my wake, ejecting scads of assistants, who trailed along behind me like a ticker-tape parade, lab coats and clipboards fluttering. Luckily, they weren’t as good at playing tag as I was.
    The men in black suits, on the other hand, were another matter altogether.
    I slammed into the first after taking a wrong turn. He tried to grab me while I blinked the stars out of my eyes, but I recovered just in time to duck under his arms. Regrettably, the second was harder to elude. He seized me from behind while I was distracted by the first, then picked me up as easily as if I were a string bean. I liked to think I’d eaten more Mother Lodes than that.
    The cavalry showed up after the man tossed me over his shoulder. At least the assistants looked like they could barely breathe.
    I stuck out my chin. “I want to talk to Dr. Pauling.”
    One of the assistants sneered. “He isn’t here, silly girl.”
    But I wasn’t discouraged. “I have reason to think he is.”
    At least that shut him up. He backed off just in time for Dr. Franks to turn the corner. Mama was hot on his heels.
    â€œYou will put her down this instant,” Mama hissed after sizing up the situation, “or I will gut you where you stand.”
    Dr. Franks elbowed around her. “You will do no such thing. That child is a menace to society, and I insist that you restrain her.”
    The man glanced at Mama, then Dr. Franks, then Mama again, then put me down. He must have been more afraid of Mama (and I couldn’t say I blamed him).
    Dr. Franks bristled. “If you won’t detain her, then I demand that you expel them.”
    The man checked with his partner, then mumbled, “Sorry, doc. I can’t kick anyone out without Dr. Pauling’s say-so.”
    Dr. Franks’s cheeks paled. For a second, maybe less, I actually felt sorry for him.
    â€œCome with me,” the man said.
    Me and Mama scurried after him, afraid of getting lost. Dr. Franks delayed for as long as he could, then, grudgingly, clomped after us. If he wanted Dr. Pauling to hear his side of the story, he had no choice but to follow.
    The man led us through the labyrinth like a bloodhound on the scent. He never paused to get his bearings or even check his nose. His partner hemmed us in, probably to keep us from exploring.
    Eventually, we arrived at an unfamiliar elevator. It smelled like pencil shavings, which reminded me of Daniel. He’d once drawn a dragon for me on the back of an old napkin, with two ketchup spots for eyes. The napkin was still tucked inside my sock drawer (along with my favorite seashell and a two-dollar bill that Grandpa Willy had passed down to me).
    No one dared to speak as the elevator rattled upward. When the door opened again, I raised a hand to shield my eyes, since this floor was much brighter than the ones below it. Maybe Mother Nature had come up here to hide.
    The man