The Orphan of Awkward Falls by Keith Graves

opened the hatch. Miraculously, the weasel staggered out of the chamber under its own power onto the counter and promptly coughed up the nastiest hairball Josephine had ever laid eyes on.
    “That’s amazing!”
    If this was some kind of trick, it was an awfully good one.
    “Yes, isn’t it?” Thaddeus was as proud of the bedraggled creature as a father with his firstborn child. “You may deliver Coco to the widow Gladstone at first light, Norman. Tell her that the repairs were successfully completed and she’s better than ever.”
    “Will do, sir,” said the robot. “Shall I rock her to sleep in the meantime?”
    “Yes, a nap will lower her blood pressure nicely. But first let’s get some fluids in her.”
    Thaddeus poured a fizzing puddle of soda into a saucer and patted the weasel’s head as it lapped up its first post-death meal. When it was finished, Norman picked up the beast with surprising tenderness and carried it to a chair in the corner, where he swaddled it in a blanket and began rocking it to sleep in his rusty steel arms.
    The lab’s own cuckoo clock, a miniature carousel with little saddled models of unicorns, dragons, lions, and tigers, suddenly sprang to life. A door in the center column of its round platform opened, and a trio of mice scampered out and climbed onto three of the colorful beasts. On second glance, Josephine saw that the little creatures were only mice from the neck down. Their heads were those of parakeets. Wheezy organ music played as the ingenious gadget made five turns before stopping.
    After taking a moment to digest what she had just seen, it dawned on Josephine that the creatures had just announced the time. It was five a.m.! How had six hours passed since she had left her house? It seemed as if she’d just slipped out an hour ago!
    Josephine hopped out of her seat. “Oh, my gosh, I gotta go! My parents will flip if they get up and find me gone!”
    “STOP!” Thaddeus stomped his foot. “Hold her, Norman!” The robot reached out from the rocking chair and clamped a steel claw onto her wrist before she could leave the lab. “What do you think you’re doing? You haven’t sworn the oath of secrecy. Now that you have seen my secret lab, you cannot leave until you swear the oath.”
    “Fine, but can we make it fast? I’m cutting it pretty close.”
    Thaddeus gave her a serious look. “Raise your hand and repeat after me.” The robot raised her hand for her.
    “I, Josephine, do swear…,” he said solemnly.
    “I, Josephine, do swear…,” she repeated.
    “To never blabber anything about Thaddeus to anyone who might have him sent to the orphanage…”
    “To never blabber anything about Thaddeus to anyone who might have him sent to the orphanage…”
    “Or suffer unimaginably dire consequences!”
    “Or suffer unimaginably dire consequences.”
    “The end.”
    “The end. Can I please go now?”
    “Not yet.” The boy looked worried. “You do really promise not to tell, don’t you?”
    “I really do. Crisscross applesauce.”
    Thaddeus looked bewildered. “What does applesauce have to do with anything?”
    “It just means I promise,” she said. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.”
    Josephine could see the boy was still wary, but he nodded for Norman to release her wrist anyway.
    “Simply follow the train at the top of the stairs, madame,” said Norman. “It will lead you safely out.”

    “I’ll be back!” She grabbed her sweater and dashed out of the lab and up the basement stairs. The train was waiting, its engine puffing. Back through the dark corridors it led her, doors opening as they approached, until they reached the foyer. She threw back the big deadbolt on the front door, slung it open, and dashed out into the breaking dawn, hoping she could make it home before she was missed.

Stenchley’s body jerked and his eyes popped open at the sound of the front door opening. Through the leaves of the hedge, he watched a girl come running out