The Pure: Book Three of the Oz Chronicles Read Online Free

since you arrived.”
    “People change.”
    He purses his lips together and rubs his
chin with his thumb. “Alright. I’ll give you a restricted pass. You’re not to
go off the yellow path. Understood?”
    “The yellow path. Right.”
    “This is a test, Oz. You play by the
rules and do as I say today, who knows what tomorrow will bring.”
    “Tomorrow. Got it.”
    “I’m not kidding,” he says with a smile.
“I’m cautiously optimistic about this request. It shows progress. Something you
haven’t shown before.”
    I smile this time. “Take a bow, Doc.
You’re a miracle worker. Next thing you know, I’ll be running for president of
the yellow path people.”
     
    ***
     
    What I soon come to find out is the
yellow path people are really just a multitude of crazies who barely qualify to
be human beings. They come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and ages. The only
thing they have in common is the winding yellow line that divides the corridor
floor throughout most of the hospital. There are other lines, red, green, blue,
but I never see the people that inhabit those corridors. I see the occasional
shadow of the blue crazies or red crazies or green crazies where the yellow
line briefly dissects their paths, but I never get a close look.
    A patient with leathery skin and
walnut-sized lumps across his forehead stops me on my way to the janitor’s
closet.
    “New?” he mumbles.
    “I... I’m not sure,” I answer
    His stubbly chin quivers as he stutters
“P-p-p-p-pudding.” “What?”
    “P-p-p...” He gulps to right himself.
“Pudding to p—p-pass.”
    “Pudding?” I say as if this is a crazy
request. Of course it’s a crazy request. He’s crazy. “I don’t have pudding.”
    Upon hearing this, the leathery little
man screams and rams his head into a nearby door jamb. The origin of his lumps
suddenly becomes very clear. “Pudding to pass! Pudding to pass!”
    As I stare at the man in disbelief, a
bony hand appears in my field of vision holding a cup of chocolate pudding.
Bones smiles back at me as I try to piece this scene together in my cluttered
mind.
    “It’s his favorite,” Bones says.
    I don’t respond. I’m seriously
regretting my request for a GP pass.
    “Take it. Give it to him. Before Chester
comes.”
    I still hesitate. Bones slams his hand
into my chest. I take the pudding and hand it to...
    “Gator.”
    “What?”
    Bones sighs in frustration. “His name’s
Gator. On account of his skin is all wrinkled and leathery. That’s what they do
in this place. They call you by what you look like instead of your real name.
They call me...”
    “Bones.”
    “That’s right, Bones.” He looks at Gator
as he rips open the pudding cup. “He’s harmless, ‘cept to himself I suppose. He
was a great man once... well, he claims he was anyway. I didn’t know him ‘fore
they stuck me in here.”
    “Where is here?”
    He looks around. “I don’t really know.
It’s just here.”
    We begin to walk down the corridor.
“Where do you come from?” I ask.
    He thinks about the question. “I’m not
sure. Still trying to figure that out.” He leans in closer and whispers. “I’m
your lookout.”
    “What?”
    “Archie sent me.”
    “Archie?”
    He reaches toward his face and mimics
pulling it off. “Archie.”
    I nod. “Ahhh, yes, Archie. How come he
has a name?”
    He shrugs. “Guess don’t nobody want to
call him what he looks like.” Bones scratches his head. “He says you’re the
key.”
    “I don’t know what that means.”
    “Neither do I, but if Archie wants me to
look out for you, that’s what I aim to do. Won’t nobody hurt you long as I’m
around.”
    I look at his skinny frame and fight the
urge to laugh at his bravado. He senses my skepticism. “Snarkel, snapper momma,
jaws, spot, jumper, hambone, Charlie boy,” he says with a smile. “Long as I got
that, I’m friggin invincible. You understand?”
    I don’t have the heart to tell him “no”
so I nod as if it