8 The Disappeared

8. THE DISAPPEARED Matilda was woken by her cat, standing on her chest and pawing at the duvet. Her phone was still playing Nugget's music. "What's up, Fluff?" asked Matilda. Fluff jumped from the bed, across the floor, and onto the window ledge, where she paced back and forth, rubbing her sides against the glass and meowing loudly. Matilda rubbed her eyes, rolled out of bed, and joined Fluff at the window. Outside, she could see huddles of people,

chattering and pointing and talking on their cell phones. Matilda thought it was a bit strange to see so many grown-ups on the street in their bathrobes and pajamas. A police car whizzed past, blue lights flashing and siren blaring. She walked downstairs, closely followed by Fluff, and found her mom and dad eating breakfast, whispering anxiously. "Oh, good morning, Matilda!" said her mom with an unconvincing smile.

"Would you like some toast?" "Have we got Pirate Pops?" asked Matilda, wearily pulling a chair out from the table. "What's with the worried faces? And the police cars?" "Some children have disappeared," said her mom, looking very concerned. "As soon as we heard, we went to check on

you and were so happy to find you safely tucked up in bed." "Mind you, I'm not sure how you could sleep with that horrible screeching on your phone," added her dad, trying to change the subject. Looking flustered, he missed Matilda's bowl completely and poured a pile of Pirate Pops onto the table. "Oh, um... But your mother told me to leave it on. She said you liked it and it helped you get to sleep. You kids listen to some trash nowadays. I can lend you some real music if you like. I know quite a lot about high- fidelity music, y'know." "So who's missing? Which children!" asked Matilda, ignoring her dad and very

worried about Ruby and her other friends. "Well... we had the radio on earlier, and it's... um... all of them," her mom replied. "All of the children are missing!" Nobody said much after that. They finished their breakfast, and Matilda got ready for school. While she waited for her mom to dry her hair, she had to endure a demonstration of her dad's "high-fidelity music" in the living room. "It's almost like being there!" he exclaimed, playing a jumble of jazz at high volume. "When I close my eyes, I'm transported to the 1950s, in a smoky New York bar, full of cool cats. What do you think, Tilda?"

"It's not so bad, I suppose," Matilda mumbled. "Could you play Nugget's music? From my phone!" "That screechy racket? On my stereo equipment?" said her dad. "Please?" Matilda held out her phone. Moments later, it was playing