Floors: by Patrick Carman

dangling from the ceiling and it was a miracle the whole place didn’t self-destruct from an overload of chaos. It was one of the more confusing places in the maintenance tunnel, and it required Leo’s full attention to get anything done.
    His concentration blown, Leo stepped back from the electrical panel and listened as Remi told him about Ms. Sparks’s early departure and his exploration of the blue box. When Leo understood what Remi had done, he felt angry. It was
his
box, not Remi’s, and now Remi had opened it without him.
    “I checked the registry and no one has stayed in the Central Park Room since Mr. Whippet disappeared,” Remi reported. “What’s in there?”
    Leo didn’t want to talk about the Central Park Room.
    “It’s not your box. You shouldn’t have opened it.”
    “But you told me to go get it,” Remi pleaded, all the excitement gone out of his voice at the thought of upsetting Leo.
    “I didn’t tell you to open it. You shouldn’t have done that.”
    “I was only trying to help.”
    Leo looked at the mess of wires and blown fuses before him and knew he couldn’t possibly fix the air-conditioning in less than half an hour. After that, he’d have a little time — maybe an hour — in which to disappear in the labyrinth of the hotel.
    “It’s okay,” he said, trying to let go of something he really did think was his and his alone. “Just ask next time.”
    “Next time?” said Remi, his old zing returning. “You mean there are
more
boxes in this place? Awesome!”
    “We’re supposed to bring a duck,” said Leo, thinking it would be the perfect errand for Remi and Blop while he finished the electrical work. “Go to the roof and get Betty — she’s the smartest of the bunch. Then meet me at the door to the Central Park Room. We’re going in.”
    “Yes!” cried Remi. “You hear that, Blop? We’re going in!”
    Leo went back to work on the wiring, pulling crystal fuses and electrical tape out of his maintenance bag. While Remi went up the duck elevator, he told Leo what was inside the blue box.
    “Trains and tracks, mostly,” said Remi.
    “Trains?”
    “I know, weird, right? There’s not a train in Central Park, but it says right on the inside of the lid: ‘Enter through Central Park on five, under the arrow.’”
    “Have you been to Central Park before?” asked Leo. He had set the two-way radio on a ledge, pushing the button when he needed to while his hands worked quickly at the wires and fuses.
    “Sure, I’ve been to the park. Who hasn’t?” said Remi. He asked Leo why Blop was being so quiet.
    “If he blows through ten thousand words in under an hour, it usually shuts his voice chip down for a little while. You must have had quite a chat this morning.”
    “Oh yeah, we talked about every thing. He’s my travel buddy.”
    Leo could imagine Remi in the small elevator, sitting on the floor with Blop on his lap in the cardboard box. The two boys were like secret spies making their waythrough a hidden world, not knowing what they’d find around the next corner.
    “‘Under the arrow,’” said Leo, running electrical tape around a bunch of red and yellow wires. “I don’t know about any arrows in the park. We might have to do some searching to find the entrance.”
    “I’m at the roof,” said Remi. “But Betty won’t get in. She’s in a bad mood. Should I bring a different duck?”
    Leo thought about wandering through Central Park with a robot, a duck, and a buddy, and he thought better of the idea.
    “I think we can manage without Betty this time,” said Leo, screwing in the last fuse and throwing the electrical switch. A whirling noise ensued, and Leo knew the air-conditioning was back up again. He was a free man, at least until his dad found out he’d finished fixing the AC in record time. “Head back down and knock on the door. I’ll open it from the inside.”
    “How’re you gonna do
that
?”
    Leo didn’t answer. It was best if only he and