Zoo buffaloes would never fit in a backpack.

diamonds.

Also, how to count numbers together, if that is the kind of truth you are after.�

�How is that a truth?� calls Lumphy.

�Okay, a fact, then. Facts are in books. If you�ve been to school.�

�Ahem,� coughs Lumphy. �I was right there next to you. Don�t you remember?�

�Where?�

�At school.�

�Time for bed,� StingRay says importantly.

The Little Girl comes into the bedroom and lifts her up to sleep on the high bed with the fluffy pillows, while Lumphy and Plastic stay where they are.

� �

�Let�s find the book on money,� suggests Plastic, when the lights are out and both StingRay and the Girl are asleep.

Lumphy makes a grouchy noise. Now that it�s night and the Girl can�t see him moving around, he wants to go down the hall to visit TukTuk, the yellow towel who lives in the bathroom. TukTuk always has something interesting to say. She sees a lot of strange behavior in her life as a towel, although she doesn�t get out much. Lumphy particularly likes to hear about tooth brushing and fingernail clipping, things he is not sure he properly understands. �I�m busy,� he tells Plastic.

So Plastic tries to get the one-eared sheep to look for the money book.

�Is there anything about grass in it?� Sheep wants to know.

�I don�t think so. It�s the truths and facts of liquid gold swimming pools.�

�Anything about clover?�

�Probably not,� Plastic is forced to admit.

�If it�s not going to be interesting, I�d just as soon skip it,� Sheep says kindly. She goes to play marbles with the toy mice.

Plastic looks at the books by herself, reading the titles on the spines. One explains the meanings of words. One is full of maps. Another is about the wonderful world of plants. But there isn�t any book on money or gold swimming pools�and even if there was one, Plastic couldn�t pull it out from the shelf.

Only one book lies open on the floor so that she can read it: a book about animals, with pictures and details about how they live, what they eat, and where they sleep at night.

Plastic finds the part about stingrays. They live in the ocean and flap their flipper-wings like birds in the sky. She reads about sheep and how their woolly coats get shorn. She reads about mice, who are part of the rodent family. And she reads a good deal about buffaloes and how they run around in herds.

�Ooh,� she realizes. �I can read about plastics!�

But plastics aren�t there.

She looks again.

They still aren�t there.

Then Plastic goes page by page through the animal book, looking at every picture of every single animal.

None of them looks like her.

Ladybugs are round and red, but Plastic doesn�t have wings like a ladybug.

Turtles are round when their legs are inside their shells, but Plastic does not have a hard shell, or any kind of shell at all.

Hedgehogs are round when they curl themselves in balls, but Plastic is not spiny like a hedgehog.

People say foxes are red�but really they are much more orange, and anyway, Plastic knows she is not a fox. She is not sure she even has a nose.

Where are the plastics? she wonders, and calls the toy mice over to help her pull out the book on the meanings of words. The mice skitter off as soon as they are done, leaving Plastic alone with the book. It is called a Dictionary.

She finds the P�s, and reads: �Plastic. A material produced by polymeri-something-or-other� (a very long word).

But where do we live? wonders Plastic. What do we like to eat?

She reads on. �Plastic. Capable of being shaped or formed. Also, artificial.�

Plastic doesn�t know what Artificial means, so she looks that up, too. �Fake,� says the dictionary. �Not natural.�

Artificial doesn�t sound nice at all.

Plastic scoots under the high bed and doesn�t come out for several hours.

� �

When he gets back from visiting TukTuk the towel, Lumphy finds Plastic and crawls under the bed next to her. �Did you know the Little Girl puts a piece of waxy string in between her teeth every night before bed?� he asks. �It�s called dental floss.�

No, Plastic didn�t know.

�I wouldn�t want string between my teeth,� says Lumphy.

Plastic is not sure she even has teeth.

�Especially not with wax.�

�Maybe it feels nice,� suggests Plastic. �You never know until you try.�

�I know without trying.�

�Could it be a cleaning thing? Since she does it in the bathroom.�

�Nah,� said Lumphy. �What could you clean with a piece of string?�

Plastic doesn�t know.

�All this cleaning, I don�t see what it�s about, anyway,� Lumphy adds.

Plastic tells Lumphy about the dictionary and how it says that plastics are Artificial.

�Hmmm.� Lumphy scratches his ear and turns around three times in the spot where he plans to sleep. �You don�t say what you really think,� he says, finally. �You pretend everything�s all right when it isn�t.�

�So?�

�So, that�s artificial.�

�What about polymeri-something-or-other?�

Lumphy curls himself into a ball. �It�s too late to discuss big words.� He closes his eyes.

Plastic is the tiniest bit angry. �Real buffaloes are interested in other people�s problems,� she says. �Real buffaloes don�t sleep when someone is talking to them. I read it in a book.�

Lumphy lifts his head. His face looks nervous. �What do you mean, real buffaloes?�

Suddenly, Plastic feels like she isn�t being very nice. And whatever plastics are, she wants to be a good one. �Nothing,� she answers. �Never mind.�

� �

�I need to know the truth about plastics,� Plastic confesses to StingRay the next morning, as they are sunning themselves in a square of light on the shaggy rug. �I can�t find it in a book.�

�What do you need to know?� asks StingRay kindly. �I�m sure I can answer.�

�Their natural habitat,� says Plastic. �And what they eat; and whether they are birds, or fish, or mammals.�

�Mammals, definitely,� answers StingRay, who doesn�t actually know. �They�re very furry, plastics. And their natural habitat is the frozen tundra,

where icicles grow up from the ground,

like

mentions me?

It is a terrible bunch of thoughts.

When no one is looking, StingRay sneaks down the hall to the bathroom.

TukTuk is there, hanging on a rod.

�Hello,� says StingRay as if nothing is out of the ordinary. �Don�t let me bother you. I�m just going to do my regular floating that I do.�

�Your tag says �dry clean only,� � remarks TukTuk.

�So?� says StingRay. She puts the plug in the bathtub, turns on the water, and gets in.

�So that means don�t take a bath.�

�I�m a fish,� says StingRay. �I can float.� She sits in the tub, feeling the wetness seep into her plush belly and flippers.

�No you can�t.�

�Can, too! Look at me!�

�Your tummy is still on the floor of the tub.�

�Mind your own business,� snaps StingRay. �I�m doing my floating.�

The water is icy cold. StingRay tries to ignore it. She is waiting for her tummy to come off the floor of the tub. Waiting for proof she is a floater.

But her tummy stays right where it is.

The water goes over her gills, then over her back.

It goes over her eyes, and covers the tip of her tail.

� �

Plastic rides in the trunk of the car, where it is very hot. Then the car stops, and she is lifted out. The air is fresh and salty.

The ocean really does go on and on forever. Plastic can hardly keep from wiggling, she is so excited.

The Little Girl and her parents get their beach blanket and cooler and umbrella set up. They have paperback novels and a portable radio, too. The mother wears a baseball cap and a black bikini. She forces the Little Girl to put on suntan lotion, and the Girl whines. The father runs down to the water and back, yelling about how cold it is. The Girl drinks apple juice from a cardboard box.

Then Plastic is tossed straight up in the air until she nearly touches the sun.

She is rolled through tunnels of damp sand and comes out the other end.

She is the center of a game called Keep Away.

She is perched on top of a large sand castle.

She is tossed onto the surface of the ocean, where she floats upon the waves.

And floats.

And floats.

For longer than she�d like, floating all by herself.

And then, she is eaten.

An animal with musky, wet fur takes Plastic in its jaws with a sudden snap. She can feel the sharp teeth and the floppy warm tongue. The creature makes soft grunting noises as it paddles out of the ocean and onto the sand. Plastic tries to wiggle free, but it has her tight.

Is it a shark.? Plastic wonders.

Does it think I�m a tasty piece of garbage?

The possible shark trots across the sand wagging its tail. It heads a long way down the beach. Again, Plastic tries to get out of its grip, but it has a good hold. It trots and trots, occasionally poking her with its tongue.

Then the possible shark drops Plastic onto a pile of seaweed, pins her down with one enormous paw, and begins to chew.

� �

In the tub, StingRay is completely underwater.

At the beach, a possible-shark tooth pops Plastic�s rubber skin.

In the tub, StingRay is soaked through her sawdust insides.

At the beach, the air whizzes out of Plastic until she is soft and squashy.

StingRay tries to lift a flipper to pull herself out, but the water makes her so heavy she can�t move.

The possible shark tries to swallow Plastic.

StingRay: �Help!�

Plastic: �Stop!� Help! Stop!

But TukTuk can�t move, and the possible shark isn�t listening.

� �

Plastic is stuck in the back of the possible shark�s throat. Very uncomfortable.

�Gagaglah.� The possible shark chokes, coughs, chokes again, coughs�and spits Plastic out onto a pile of seaweed.

Plastic knows she has to get away fast. But what can she do? She is halfway deflated, very un-bouncy. The possible shark licks its chops�but as it swoops in for another chomp, Plastic turns her body so her puncture hole is pointing right at its face. Then she squeezes her rubbery skin together as tight as it will go, pushing her last bit of air out the puncture with a loud, farty noise.

PBBBLEH!

The possible shark is confused.

It pulls back.

It makes a whimpering sound.

Then it trots away, with its tail between its legs.

Yippee! thinks Plastic.

I can�t stay here, though. It might come back., and eat me later.

The seaweed around her is gray-green and scraggly. There are clumps of it all over the beach, drifting in and out as the waves skim across the sand. Plastic checks to be sure no one is looking at her, then slips under a big piece. Rolling is hard with so little air inside, but she uses all her strength�and moves gently forward, and around, until she is wrapped thoroughly in seaweed. Then she waits until she hears a big wave crash on the shore.

As the ocean water rushes toward her, Plastic rolls along the edge of the water, pretending that the wave has caught this unsuspecting and surprisingly round blob of seaweed, and merely happens to be pulling it along. With each crash of the breakers, Plastic rolls a bit further in the direction of the Little Girl and her family.

Once, a wave really does catch her and she bangs up hard against a big rock.

Once, a small crab waves a mean-looking claw in her direction.

And once, a possible shark of a different nature (short legs, curly fur) sniffs her with frightening curiosity.

With tremendous effort, Plastic keeps moving until she hears the Little Girl�s voice. Then she slips out of her seaweed cover and bold-face rolls back to the beach blanket, as fast as she can possibly roll.

� �

StingRay is soaked through with cold water, and so heavy she cannot move. From the bottom of the tub, she hears a sound.

�Warble glub lub mangle.�

Fortunately, her eyes are on the top of her head, so she can see what�s above her. Lumphy and the one-eared sheep are sitting on the edge of the tub!

The rushing sound of the tap makes it impossible to make out what they are saying. And though she is glad to see them, StingRay can�t think how they will rescue her, since both of them are sinkers.

After hating her friend all day, she wishes Plastic were here.

I was mean to her, thinks StingRay, and now she�s gone to the beach and might not ever return.

I�m a sinker,

and a stinker, too,

maybe by using a hammer on it when nobody

plus anything blue that strikes your fancy.