Maurice’s Room by Paula Fox Page B

were like furniture or bathroom fixtures. Maurice felt there wasn’t much to be done with them.

2. “GET EVERVITHING OFF THE FLOOR”
    It was the end of January, and Maurice had just come home from school. He put his books on his bed and went to see what the snake was doing. It was lying on its rock. The lizard was watching it. The robin was so still it looked stuffed. But it cocked its head when Maurice whistled at it. The hamster was hiding bits of carrot in the sawdust at the bottom of its cage. The salamanders had buried themselves in the mud. Maurice was arranging little piles of food for his animals when he heard his uncle’s voice from down the hall.
    â€œLily,” his uncle was saying to his mother, “you ought to dynamite that room!”
    â€œThere must be another way,” his mother said.
    â€œYou’d better give it up,” said his uncle. “Maurice will never clean it.”
    â€œIf we lived in the country, it would be different,” said his mother.
    â€œPerhaps,” said his uncle.
    Maurice took two walnuts from his pocket and cracked them together. His mother came to the door.
    â€œGet everything off the floor,” she said in a low, even voice as though she were counting moving freight cars.
    â€œWhere will I put things?” asked Maurice.
    â€œI don’t care,” she said. “But clear the floor! Or else I’ll bring in the broom, the dustpan, and a very large box. And that will be that!”
    The doorbell rang. It was Jacob.
    â€œJacob can help you,” his mother said.
    Jacob was seven, but he looked bigger than Maurice. It was because he was wearing so many clothes—scarves, mittens, sweaters, two hats, and several pairs of socks. He began to take off his outer clothing, laying each item in a pile at his feet. Meanwhile Maurice explained the predicament.
    â€œWhat are we going to do?” asked Jacob.
    Maurice looked at the chest of drawers. The pebbles and rocks had been moved to the floor, and the chest was now covered with oatmeal boxes. He looked at the table. He could barely see the yellow oilcloth because it was hidden by sections of a witch doctor’s mask he and Jacob had begun to make the week before. The turtles had been moved next to the salamanders on the window sill.
    â€œThere are five more floors in this room if you count the walls and ceiling,” Maurice said to Jacob. Jacob looked smaller and thinner now that he was down to his shirt and pants.
    â€œI see,” said Jacob.
    â€œWe’ll have to ask Mr. Klenk to help us,” said Maurice.
    Jacob began to sort out nails. Then he stopped. “But we won’t be able to do that with everything! And how can we get it all done in just a day?”
    â€œMr. Klenk will know,” said Maurice.

3. THE JANITOR
    Mr. Klenk, the janitor, lived in the basement five floors down. The basement smelled like wet mops, damp cement, pipes, and old furniture stuffing. But it was clean. Mr. Klenk had told Maurice that he couldn’t relax a second or he would be drowned by the rubbish that poured out of all the apartments. “Overwhelming!” Mr. Klenk often exclaimed.
    â€œIt’s a race between me and the junk,” he would say. “If I let it get an edge on me, I’ll get shoved right out of the city.” But Mr. Klenk didn’t seem to feel the same way about Maurice’s collection.
    â€œWell, you’re selective, my boy,” he had said once, giving Maurice a caramel. “Besides, I suspect you’ve got something in mind for all that stuff of yours.”
    The two boys rang the janitor’s bell. Mr. Klenk opened his door, blowing out a cloud of cigar smoke.
    â€œI have to get everything off the floor,” Maurice said. “Could you help us a little?”
    â€œWhat do you have in mind?”
    â€œThere’s plenty of space on the walls,” said Maurice.
    Mr. Klenk nodded and puffed on his cigar.