Toys Come Home Read Online Free PDF Page A

feeling well enough to go play downstairs, so the toys are left alone.
    “Where is Bobby Dot?” asks StingRay.
    Nobody answers.
    “Sheep, did you hear me?”
    Apparently, Sheep did not.
    “Mice, where is Bobby Dot?” calls StingRay. “Rocking Horse? Does anybody know?”
    “He went to the basement to get washed,” squeaks a tiny voice from under the bookcase.
    “Yes. Well. We know that. We all know that,” says StingRay. “The question is, where is he
now
? Because he hasn’t come back and the basement is full of spiders and maybe ghosts.”
    Nobody answers.
    “If you don’t have any suggestions for me,” announces StingRay, “then I’ll have to go down the hall and ask that yellow towel.”
    Again, no answer.
    Oh.
    Now StingRay has to go ask the towel.
    It is not nearly so scary a prospect as when she thought towels had teeth and claws, but she remembers what Bobby Dot said about them being clubby and unfriendly, and she wishes she had not just announced that she would talk to one.
    Still, Bobby Dot has not returned.
    And StingRay needs to know what happened.
    She waits until night. Until the Girl is asleep and the house is quiet. Then she scoots down the hall and peers nervously into the bathroom. StingRay has never been in there before, and she is surprised at how very tile-y it is. Tile on the floors. Tile on the walls. There is a smell of tangerine soap. The black-and-white whales printed on the shower curtain look menacing.
    The yellow towel, damp and slightly wrinkled, hangs over the shower rod. Some floating bath toys are lined up on the edge of the tub: a boat, an orca, two pirates, a purple spray bottle, and a squirty rocket.
    StingRay addresses the pirates. “Ahoy. My name is StingRay. I am looking to talk to the yellow towel in hopes of investigating the disappearance of a walrus.”
    No reply.
    “What I need to know is: Is this towel friendly? Do you think I can just ask it a question?”
    Again, no reply.
    “Or do I need an introduction?” StingRay goes on. “Or, like, membership in a club?”
    “It’s friendly,” says a voice from above. A soothing, droopy voice.
    StingRay looks up.
    The towel is speaking to her. “None of those bath toys talk,” she continues. “But I do. My name is TukTuk.”
    “Hello,” says StingRay. “I—I’m wondering about the walrus. Bobby Dot. Do you remember? He was covered with puke and he went down to the basement for a wash, but—”
    “He never came back.” TukTuk finishes the sentence.
    StingRay nods.
    “They should never have put him in the Dryer.”
    “What’s a dryer?”
    “Dries towels and clothes after we’re done in the washing machine. Everything spins around very hot.”
    “Why shouldn’t Bobby Dot have gone in?”
    “The Dryer is very sensitive. They should never have put in those sneakers, either.”
    “What happened?”
    “I was in the load ahead of him. He washed up okay, even though his tag said Dry Clean Only. I saw him come out of the washer clean and fresh.”
    “And then?”
    “The Dryer can’t handle sneakers.”
    “TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!” StingRay shouts, and is surprised to see the towel’s edges curl up slightly in recoil.
    For a moment, TukTuk doesn’t answer. Then she says: “The Dryer’s barrel got out of line. Started thumping. No one came. She went through the whole cycle. When the dad unloaded, the walrus was in shreds.”
    StingRay is so shocked she can’t speak.
    “He was nothing but fluff and scraps of plush,” says TukTuk. “The rest was clogging up the lint collector.” She sighs. “Maybe the threads that held him together were plastic. Maybe those threads melted. Or could be all that shaking was just too much.”
    “Oh.”
    “They threw what was left of him in the trash,” TukTuk finishes. “But he was gone long before that happened.”
    Oh, oh, oh.
    Bobby Dot is gone.
    Bobby Dot will never, ever come back.
    StingRay tries to feel sad, because she is pretty sure that’s how you are