Liesl & Po by Lauren Oliver Read Free Book Online Page B

course.
    I’ll miss the drawings, though , Po thought.
    Bundle was silent, turning floaty flips ahead.
    Whether Bundle had once been a dog or a cat was, at this point, impossible to say. Sometimes, in the natural inquisitive tilt of its head, and the twitchiness of its tail, and the prick of its ears, it seemed very cat. Other times, due to its tendency to follow Po around everywhere and yelp excitedly at every shooting star or wisp of cloud dust, it seemed much more dog.
    But whatever it was, one thing was clear: Bundle was a natural explorer. It liked nothing better than to discover some new and twisted corner of the universe, and then, suddenly, to disperse—blending momentarily into the new place, the new space, whatever it was, and returning to its loose and shaggy shape whenever its curiosity about the new thing had been satisfied. Since it could no longer smell or look or touch, it could learn only in this way: by blending.
    When Bundle was tired, it liked to disperse into Po. Bundle could not climb into Po’s lap because Po had no lap, so instead it climbed inside: It curled up inside of Po’s Essence, and Po walked for a time with the secret knowledge of this other thing, this other being, glowing at Po’s very center like a star burning in the middle of darkness.
    Of all the miracles Po had seen in the time and space of its death, Po thought this—the absorption of another, the carrying of it—was the most bewildering and remarkable of all. Whenever Bundle separated again, Po was left with an ache of sadness that reminded the ghost of the body it had once left behind.
    Let’s go to our place , Po thought to Bundle.
    Mwark , Bundle thought back.
    Bundle and Po skimmed over the top of a glowing, moonlit hill and came to a place where black water ran between soft, pillowed, cloudy hills: a quiet, secluded place, and one both ghosts knew well, and came to often.
    There was another ghost sitting by the river, however, and Po stopped short. Bundle let out a small yelp of surprise. This was Bundle and Po’s secret spot, exactly one third of the way between the endless waterfall and star 6,789. Po had never seen another ghost there, not one single time.
    The new ghost had its back to Bundle and Po, and it was muttering something. It must have only recently crossed over, as even from the back its silhouette was very defined, and very clearly that of a man.
    As Po drifted closer, it heard the man saying, “If I could only get back to that willow tree. I’m sure then I could find my way home. Fifteen feet from the tree is the pond, and up the short little hill is the house, where little Lee-Lee will be waiting with her mother. . . .”
    Po was stunned. All the atoms of its being flipped simultaneously in a funny direction, so the ghost shivered from the inside out. Po had not been kidding when it told Liesl that the chances of seeing her father again were next to impossible: And yet, here her father was. In Bundle and Po’s secret place, no less.
    Po was so surprised it made a sharp whistling sound, and the ghost of Liesl’s father started, and turned around.
    “Oh, hello,” the ghost of Liesl’s father said. “I didn’t hear you come up.”
    Po refrained from pointing out that ghosts stepped soundlessly, since they did not have solid feet to walk with. The man was obviously brand-new, and confused. His contours were extraordinarily clear; there was only the tiniest bit of smudging around his hair, making him appear to be wearing a dark hat. He brought his hand to his cheek and swiped.
    Po had never seen a ghost cry before. There were no actual tears: just quivering little dark spots, like shadows, that pushed apart the atoms of Liesl’s father’s face, temporarily revealing the starry sky beyond. Ghosts, even the newest ones, just weren’t held together very tightly.
    “What are you doing here?” Po asked Liesl’s father. Bundle drifted forward cautiously. The ghost-animal did not fully blend with