Free Falcon Quinn and the Black Mirror by Jennifer Finney Boylan Page A

and the floorboards squeaked again. From the top bunk, the monster continued to snore.
    Falcon tiptoed across the room. He wondered, briefly, what had happened after the thing had breathed on him.Why hadn’t it torn him into little pieces and devoured him, as it had seemed so determined to do? How had he wound up back in his own bed, without a scratch?
    He reached the door. There were huge slashes all over it. The claw tracks were filled with what looked like dried blood.
    Falcon reached out and touched the doorknob. He felt the chill of the cold metal against his fingers.
    â€œHello there,” said a small, cheerful voice. “Are you my roommate?”
    Falcon paused for a moment, then looked very, very slowly back over his left shoulder.
    â€œHi! I’m Lincoln Pugh! I come from California. Have you ever been there? They call it the Golden State. Because of the sunshine! I spend a lot of time outside. I’ve got rickets.”
    Falcon blinked. There, sitting up in bed, was a tiny, pale boy with orange hair. He looked six years old. As Falcon watched, the child reached over and put on a pair of glasses. Without question they were the ugliest, dumbest pair of glasses Falcon had ever seen: the frames were rectangular, and enormous, and orange. They dwarfed the rest of Lincoln Pugh’s face.
    The boy was wearing striped pajamas. Lincoln swung his feet out of bed and jumped onto the floor, then walked over to Falcon and extended his hand. “Youcan call me Linky,” he said.
    â€œWhat?” said Falcon.
    â€œLinky. It’s short for Lincoln. What’s your name?”
    â€œFalcon. Falcon Quinn?”
    Falcon looked at Lincoln’s hand for a moment, then grasped it. Lincoln Pugh had the weakest, coldest handshake Falcon had ever experienced. It was like shaking hands with a dead squirrel.
    â€œLooks like we’re roommates,” said Lincoln. “Do you play tetherball? I love tetherball. And sudoku puzzles. You ever do those? I love them.”
    â€œI don’t play…tetherball,” said Falcon. He looked around the room, at the torn curtains, at the ripped-up clothes and the broken chair. Then he looked back at Lincoln Pugh again.
    Lincoln followed Falcon’s gaze. “Gee,” he said. “What happened in here?” He looked concerned. “Did you make this big mess?”
    â€œNo,” said Falcon. “There was a monster—it came in while I was asleep.”
    â€œOh, now, don’t start up with the talk of monsters,” said Lincoln. “My father tried that, and I told him it wasn’t acceptable. There are no such things as monsters. You ask me, I know. I have an IQ of one hundred twenty-seven.” Lincoln Pugh looked very proud of himself. “That’s high,” he said.
    â€œI think there are monsters,” said Falcon. “This is the Academy for Monsters.”
    â€œPlease,” said Lincoln. He went over to the bed and pulled a small orange suitcase out from beneath the bottom bunk. The suitcase was unharmed. Lincoln removed a toothbrush from his case and came back to the door, where Falcon was still standing.
    â€œPlease what?”
    â€œDon’t start with the monster talk. We all know why we’re here. We have issues. I’m not ashamed of it. Of having issues. In a way, it’s interesting.”
    â€œListen,” said Falcon. “There are monsters. I wouldn’t have said so yesterday, but believe me. There’s monsters. That’s all they have here is monsters.”
    â€œFine, whatever,” said Lincoln. “If that makes it easier for you. I, however, am a realist. You might as well know that now. I like to face facts. By the way, where is the bathroom? I would like to brush my teeth. And take medication for my ulcer.”
    â€œYou have an ulcer?”
    â€œOh yes,” said Lincoln. “A big one. Plus rickets.”
    â€œThe bathroom is just off the living-room