The True Meaning of Smekday

“Yeah?” said Curly. “Whose authority? How does some stupid girl know all this?”

I swallowed. “What…difference does that make? The important thing—”

“The important thing is you heard it from a Boov. Because you’re a bleeping Boov spy.”

I had a feeling telling Curly that he was both right and wrong was not going to help my case any.

“For the last time, I’m not a spy! I’ve been aboveground for the last five months. And I’ve been traveling. You pick up things.” Like fugitive Boov, for example.

Alberto began to sniffle. “My dad may be okay,” he said, “but now he’s all the way in Arizona! I don’t even know where that is!”

Soon he was weeping again, and that was it for me. It was as contagious and sudden as a yawn. I did the last thing I wanted to do in front of the Brotherhood Organized against Oppressive Boov. My face grew hot, and the tears choked out of me like I was sick. My heart was broken, had been for five months, and I couldn’t keep it together anymore.

“Oh, look at her,” said Curly. “It figures.”

I turned my back on the circle of candles. I looked away from the inverted castle and focused on the dark corner of the room, trying to will myself to stop crying. I was trying at that moment to ignore everything that might remind me of the state I was in, figuratively and geographically, so I almost didn’t hear.

One of the boys said, “What’s that on her back?”

“Zipper,” said Curly.

I straightened up, my breath coming in huffs, and tried to see what he was talking about. I couldn’t.

“No…no it’s…” someone said. “Is that…that isn’t…”

A few of the boys were drawing near.

“It is!” shouted Curly. “It’s a Bee!”

“A bee?” I whispered.

Everyone was talking now, fast and loud.

“Well, okay,” I said, drying my eyes. “Brush it off. I’m not allergic or anything.”

Christian had come around to look at me, and I could see it all there in his face, before he said a word.

“It’s not that kind of bee.”

Oh, I thought. A Bee. I pictured its silver body clinging to my sweater, ready to pop and burn through my skin.

“That proves it! She’s a bleeping spy! Why else would she have one of their bees on her?”

They were all advancing on me. Christian stepped between us.

“Now…hold on,” he said, and I could hear the uncertainty in his voice. “This doesn’t…necessarily prove anything. Maybe…maybe they put the Bee on her to force her down here—”

“I swear! I have no idea why this thing is on my back! I’m not doing anything for the Boov. I haven’t even seen a Boov in days!” I said.

So this was arguably the worst possible moment for J.Lo to come running across the room, shouting my name.

“Gratuity! Gratuity!” he said, appearing suddenly from the shadows. “Gratuity! We must to run! We must—Oh. Hello, boy humans.”

The collected members of BOOB scattered like pigeons, flapping and knocking over candles and boxes. Alberto started to cry again. Only Christian and Curly remained.

“Bleep,” whispered Curly.

“J.Lo! What are you doing here? Why is there a Bee on my back?”

“Oho! You see!” Curly said. “They know each other! I was right!”

“No,” I said, “you’re not. It’s not what it looks like—”

“BOOB boys! Get ’em!” ordered Curly, but there was no one left to order, apart from Christian.

“What is this?” he said.

“J.Lo…this Boov,” I said. “He’s all right. The other Boov hate him. He’s like…a Boov criminal.”

I’m not sure if that was the best choice of words. You had to be there.

“He’s hiding from the other Boov?” said Christian.

“Yes!” said J.Lo. “Yes! And they are to coming! They founded our car, and I drove like a superstar, but they will be coming soon!”

“So?” said Curly. “Let’s tie him up and leave him here. The Boov will find him and go.”

“Don’t you—” I began angrily, then checked myself. “Just let us leave,” I said, looking at Christian. “I’ll make sure they don’t find you.”

“Us? Us?” Curly said. His face was red like a zit waiting to pop. “You’d rather go with a bleeping Boov than stay with your own kind?”

“Well, now that you put it that way, you have made me feel sooo welcome—”

“You’re a traitor! He stole your mom and still you’re a traitor!”

J.Lo cowered behind me. Above us I began to think I could hear noises. Voices. And these weren’t human at all.

I grabbed J.Lo’s arm. I didn’t think anything of it at that moment. Later I’d realize it was the first time I’d touched him. Touched him without trying to hit him, anyway.

“C’mon,” I said, and pulled him back in the direction from which he appeared.

Curly was just screaming a laundry list of expletives now.

“No,” said J.Lo. “We cannot go from back there. The patrol is behind me.”

“If we go any other way they’ll follow us through here and find the boys,” I said. “Where’s the car?”

“Hiding behindto many birds inside toasters.”

“The English Puffins ride,” said Christian, who was suddenly at our side. “I can show you a quick way upstairs. Follow me.”

I smiled, and he gave me sort of a half-smile back. We went to an access ladder and went up, slowly. J.Lo was not great with ladders.

“There’s a Bee on my back,” I told him.

“A whatnow?”

Then I think he saw what I meant.

“Oh, yes. A bluzzer. A hunting drone. I did to put it there.”

“What? Are you trying to kill me?”

“Kill…? Oh, no, do not be ridicumulous. Is not the exploring kind. It told me where you were.”

“Like a homing device,” whispered Christian.

“Yes, like this homo thing.”

I was mad and ashamed at the same time. J.Lo hadn’t trusted me, but I hadn’t been trustworthy. I kept quiet as we reached the top of the ladder, which opened into a corridor.

“Take the second left,” said Christian. “Then the first right. Go up the first ladder you see.”