The Detachable Boy Read Online Free PDF

peered into the case.
    ‘Oh . . . my . . . sweet . . . Jesus,’ he said. The blood drained from his face and he covered his mouth.
    ‘What? What is . . .’
    Then there was another African-American woman squealing at me. In the absence of a better plan, I stayed dead still. The woman eventually stopped squealing and her eyes began to smile. She disappeared from view and Bay Twelve reverberated with laughter.
    ‘What? What is it? This is no laughing matter!’
    ‘It’s wax, you fools! It’s a wax model!’
    Then there were three heads peering into the case. Three puzzled faces that all began to smile.
    ‘Well, I’ll be . . .’ Clifford the moustache man sang.
    ‘It’s so lifelike,’ Candy whispered.
    ‘Did you see that? It moved! Oh my god, it’s alive!’ the other woman wailed, and backed from view.
    ‘Now who’s delirious?’ Candy chided. ‘Look at the skin, it’s all shiny and such. Most certainly made of wax.’
    She closed the lid. ‘Look here at the consignee’s address. Madame Tussaud’s waxworks. Waxworks. Didn’t I tell you that?’
    I fought back a smile. Ravi had thought of everything.
    ‘Yes, you told me that,’ the other woman said. ‘Right after you fainted !’
    ‘Who’s it supposed to be?’ Clifford asked, and opened the lid again. ‘They make these sculptures of famous folk.’
    ‘Oh yeah! I see it! It’s Orlando Bloom!’ Candy squealed. ‘You know, that actor boy. I want to take him home with me and hug him and squeeze him and . . .’
    ‘Oh my sweet Jesus,’ Clifford said, again. ‘That’s not Orlando Bloom, it’s President George W. Bush. As a child. With a wig on. And no make-up. You know how it is with celebrities when they don’t wear no make-up, it’s like they’s another person and all.’
    The other woman squinted and lowered her face to mine. I could feel her breath on my chin as she stared into my eyes.
    ‘Aagh!’ she shrieked, and everybody – including my pinky foot – jumped.
    ‘I know! I know who it is,’ the woman said. ‘Oh, it’s brilliant!’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Why, it’s Michael Jackson.’
    ‘Oh my god, it is too!’ Candy yelled.
    Clifford shook his head and closed the case. ‘That ain’t no Michael Jackson, it’s George W. Bush. Whoever it’s supposed to be, it ain’t no threat to national security. Where’s the tape? Candy? What did you do with that roll of tape?’
    ‘We ran out,’ Candy said.
    ‘Well, it’s time for a break. Maybe you could bring some down from the storeroom after.’
    ‘That I can do. Let’s get a coffee.’
    I heard the three of them talking as they left Bay Twelve for a land more suited to morning tea.
    The lid of the case had been closed but not locked and I put myself back together in seconds.
    I stuffed my jacket pockets with the cash and supplies from the case and looked around. I had to get out of there. I needed something heavy. Something that weighed almost as much as I did. On the wall beside the door hung a red fire extinguisher. I sized it up and smiled as I realised it would fit perfectly in the case. It would be the perfect body substitute. I’d put it in the case and find another way out of the building, another way to get to Penny Silvania Avenue. I lifted the extinguisher off the hook and then saw the sticker on the wall.
    WARNING
    This fire control device is alarmed.
Removing it from its cradle will initiate
a fire evacuation procedure.

CHAPTER 10
    BRRRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNNGGGGGG the fire alarm sounded, as promised. My head and one of my hands detached in fright, sending the extinguisher and parts of my body rolling across the floor.
    I cursed.
    I pulled myself together and abandoned the extinguisher plan. I slipped through the door to find myself caught in a tide of bodies that bumped and shoved me towards the exit. For a fleeting moment, I could imagine what it would be like being flushed down a toilet. Thankfully, the flush only lasted a minute and the torrent of bodies emptied onto the