9

9

I T'S A BARNYARD SINGALONG!"

Flora goes rigid.

I turned it off I know I turned it off

She stomps back down the hall and stairs, carrying herself with an air of authority that encourages her annoyance to trump her fear.

From the staircase, she can see the purple and green lights flashing alternately. She takes the final step and swings herself around the banister for momentum. The cube's bright voice squeals—"THE COW GOES MOOO!"—just before Flora kicks it.

The plastic skids across the hardwood floor and slams into the base of the couch. She immediately regrets kicking it as the music distorts. Something has dislodged in the inner workings of the toy so that now the tune is slowed down and off-key, like the soundtrack of a spooky fun house.

She lunges toward the couch and, in one swift motion, grabs the cube and falls onto the cushion. That's when she sees the power button is in the on position again. But who could have turned it on?

this is ridiculous no one could have turned it on I must have thought I turned it off and didn't

She flicks the switch with her nail, deliberately moving it to the off position. But the twisted clown music doesn't stop. The once high-pitched voice is now crackly and low as it proclaims: "THE SHEEP GOES BAAAA!"

Flora pads into the kitchen, cube in hand, and heads for the catchall drawer beneath the microwave. She's pretty sure there's a small screwdriver in there somewhere. Her hands push aside a tape measure, loose change, some paper clips, old instruction manuals, an Allen wrench…

"WELCOME TO OUR LEARNING FARM!"

… permanent markers, a small pad of paper, pencils, an X-Acto knife…

the toolbox in the garage

Flora carries the activity cube with her through the living room to the opposite side of the house. She passes the walk-in pantry, where she remembers she's running out of trail mix, and opens the door to the garage. The cement floor is cool beneath her bare feet, and the faint smell of gasoline makes her nostrils twitch. She makes her way to the steel shelving on the back wall, where nondescript boxes and sports gear live. On the second shelf from the top is a red toolbox, given to her by her father.

She finds a screwdriver and finagles the small door off the bottom of the cube. When she finally pulls out the batteries—"IT'S A BARNYARD SINGA"—the music abruptly stops.

Her chest loosens. She didn't realize she had been holding her breath.

On her way back into the house, she flicks off the light before pausing and considering the now-defunct activity cube in her right hand. She turns the light back on, walks again toward the wall shelving, and places the toy beside a container full of stationery. The cube's big orange button with the face of a pig smiles at her. She slides the stationery box in front of the wide grin and leaves before she can give it another thought.