Get off me,” I said to the dark thing on my chest. “Please get off me.”

But it did not move.

I stood up. I kept hold of the letter. I picked up the bologna sandwiches, and I staggered out of room 102.

I went into the office of the Good Night, Sleep Tight, because I did not know where else to go. Bernice was behind the counter. A tragedy was occurring, the darkness had descended, and Granny was gone, but Bernice’s hair was still in curlers.

Here is something I have learned: you should never expect help from someone who perpetually has their hair in curlers.

But what was I to do? Where could I turn?

I didn’t even know who I was.

“Good evening,” I said to Bernice.

“What now?” said Bernice.

I guess that it was just impossible for her to be a friendly person, no matter how hard she tried.

Not that she was trying.

“I am wondering if you have seen my granny recently and if she gave you any information,” I said.

“Seen your granny?” said Bernice. “What information? Don’t tell me your granny is missing.”

“She is not missing,” I said.

“Then why are you looking for her?” said Bernice. She narrowed her eyes.

I narrowed my eyes back at her, but the dark thing was still on my chest and it was very hard for me to breathe.

I turned away from Bernice. I bent over and put my hands on my knees. I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing.

Who am I? Who am I?

That was the question my heart kept beating out.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the alligator staring at me. He was an incredibly ferocious-looking alligator, but he also seemed perplexed — as if he were thinking, How in the world did a dangerous man-eating alligator like me end up dead in the office of the Good Night, Sleep Tight motel?

There is something very sad about contemplating a perplexed stuffed alligator when it is dark outside and you do not know who you are or who your parents were or anything about yourself at all.

“What are you doing?” said Bernice.

Well, yes. That was the question, wasn’t it?

“I am communing with the alligator,” I said.

“Oh,” said Bernice. “You’re communing with the alligator. Of course you are. I suppose next you’ll be speaking with the vending machine. And that reminds me. Let me tell you something about Burke Allen and that vending machine. He makes little quarter-shaped pieces of metal down at that machine shop of his father’s, and then he puts the metal into the vending machine and takes what he wants without paying for a thing. That is theft. That is a crime.”

Burke!

Burke Allen, who gave me two sandwiches when I had only asked for one.

Burke Allen, who had a crow named Clarence.

I could feel the dark thing on top of me lifting up, peeling away. Burke Allen would help me. Burke Allen would know what to do.

I stood up straight. I turned around and faced Bernice.

“Thank you very much,” I said.

Even though she had not helped me with anything at all.

“Be polite up to the last minute. Be polite until they absolutely force you not to be.” That was what the woman named Granny always advised.

I left the Good Night, Sleep Tight office and I did not look back.