“Laurie, wake up.”

“Mrfl.” Laurie just rolled over. It felt way too early to wake up!

“Come on. Wake up.”

“Mom?” Laurie heard water splashing. The bath?

“We’re here, girl. Help me tidy up the boat.”

“The . . . boat? What b—” she opened her eyes. The walls were made of wood, and it was Winsome, not Laurie’s mother, who wanted her to wake up. Of course—Laurie was still on the Doppelganger.

Laurie went above deck and got her first look at Abstract Island. The Doppelganger was tied up at the end of the main pier. The little harbor was a perfect half-moon. All around the docks, people were fishing or fussing around on identical boats. On land, identical houses and shops were scattered among trees and hilly parks.

“Hey, Winsome, why do all of the buildings look the same?” Laurie asked. “And the trees, too!”

“That’s how they do things here. First they talk endlessly about what makes a building, or a street, or a pigeon. Once they find the perfect abstract design, they make a bunch of copies. Let’s go get some breakfast and then deliver these letters.”

Winsome lifted a huge mail bag and headed down the pier. Laurie had to hurry to keep up.

There were many restaurants around the harbor. The Philosopher’s Diner was packed with old people wearing togas, and at Random Slice Pizza you never knew what toppings you’d get. It was too early for pizza, though.

They took a booth at the Push & Pop Café and ordered full stacks of pancakes. Instead of cutting through the whole pile of pancakes, Winsome ate them off the top of the stack, one by one.

Mystified, Laurie watched Winsome until she could no longer contain her curiosity. “Why are you eating your pancakes funny?”

“I’m not eating them funny. You’re eating them funny.”

Laurie didn’t push the question, but instead tried another. “What should I do about my map?” she asked between bites.

“Beats me, girl.” Winsome said. “So let’s play a game that will help us figure it out.”

“What game?”

“It’s called Five Whys. It’s a game to play when you get stuck.”

“How do you play?”

“I ask you a Why question, and you answer, and then I ask you another, until we find the reason you got stuck,” Winsome said.

“For example?”

“For example,” Winsome began, pausing to swallow her last bite of pancake, “why do you want to follow that map?”

“It’s the one Hugh Rustic made for me with his ants,” Laurie said. “He found a short-enough path through all of the towns.”

“So why did you want to find a short-enough path?”

“Because there are blippity-million paths through Userland, and Tinker didn’t know how to find the shortest one,” Laurie said.

“Why did you ask Tinker for the shortest path?”

“Because Eponymous said that the Wandering Salesman’s algorithm—well, she didn’t say ‘algorithm,’ I figured that out later—she said his algorithm wasn’t sensible.”

“Why did you want to use the Salesman’s algorithm?”

“Because that’s how he finds his way home.”

“Why did you think his algorithm made sense for you?”

“Because I . . .” Laurie hadn’t thought about it. “I don’t know.”

“You were lost and scared, and he seemed to know what he was doing, right?” Winsome asked.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Sweetie, the Wandering Salesman is a salesman. He has to visit many places to buy and sell,” Winsome said. “And it’s his job to convince people.”

“Eponymous said that it made sense, though.”

“The Salesman’s algorithm makes sense for him, but maybe not for you. It’s tempting to jump on the first answer that comes along. But a lot of the time, it’s not the best. That’s why you have to keep your head on.”

“Why didn’t anybody say anything?” Laurie asked.

“Because it’s up to you to ask the right questions,” Winsome replied. “No one is going to live your life for you, girl.”

“But I asked everyone how to get home!”

“No, it sounds like you drifted away from your real goal. By the time you got to Rustic, you didn’t ask how to find Hamilton. You asked him how to find a short path through all the towns in Userland.”

“Wow, you’re right.” Laurie looked down at her lap. “I feel really stupid now.”

“Nah, don’t feel bad. Everyone makes that kind of mistake.”

“They do?”

“You have no idea,” said Winsome. “Algorithms don’t just happen in turtles and ants and coins. They also happen inside your head, and those are the hardest to get right.”

“I still don’t know how I’m going to get home.”

“Neither do I. But asking the right question is a good start. And as long as you’re here, you might as well be useful.” Winsome pointed out the window to a tall white tower on a hill. “Do you see that lighthouse?”

“What about it?”

“Would you like to go up to the top? The view is amazing.”

“Well . . . sure! That sounds like fun,” Laurie said.

“Great. Take this.” Winsome handed her a heavy wooden box. “I need you to deliver it to the lighthouse keeper.”

“What is it?”

“It’s very expensive. And fragile.”

“But—”

“Go on, he’s waiting. I’ll meet you back at the boat.”

Laurie’s climb up the hill was exhausting, so she stopped at the base of the lighthouse to rest a moment before checking for a doorbell or someone to let her in. There was no sign of either on the ground floor, so she shouted at the tower.

“Hello! Hello up there! Anyone?”

A voice came floating down. “Yes! Come up! The door is open.”

Round and round up the staircase, Laurie huffed and puffed with the unwieldy box, Xor perched on her shoulder. Finally she reached the lighthouse keeper’s room at the top of the tower, completely out of breath. The lighthouse keeper had his back to her, scanning the horizon with binoculars.

“Oh, good,” he murmured. “Put it down carefully.”

Laurie heaved the box onto a bench and took a look around. The room had no walls to speak of; it was made almost entirely of glass. Laurie stood next to the lighthouse keeper to get a better look out the windows. To one side was the wide blue water. She could barely see a bump on the horizon—maybe that was Userland. To the other side, all of Abstract Island was laid out like, well, like a map. On the coast were the port and the Doppelganger. Two people in togas were arguing in front of the Philosopher’s Diner. From above, the island looked even more neat and organized.

“Wow! You can see everything from here!” Laurie exclaimed.

“Yes.” The lighthouse keeper just kept his eyes glued to the scenery outside.

“So . . . that’s it?”

“That’s it,” said the lighthouse keeper. “Oh, er, thank you.”

* * *

Walking downhill, without the box, was a lot easier than going up.

“What was in that box, anyway?” Laurie wondered out loud on her way back to the Doppelganger.

Xor poked his head out of her pocket. “My guess is light-bulbs. Something boring,” he chimed in. “Adults are always making a fuss over boring things.”

* * *

Back at the boat, Winsome was getting ready to sail again.

“Good work, girl. Thanks,” she said as Laurie came aboard.

“You’re welcome. He didn’t talk much.”

“That’s how some people get, living in a tower all the time,” Winsome said. “Other people start to talk a lot.”

“They do?”

“You’ll see. So what are you going to do now?”

“I thought about it,” Laurie said. “Userland is just one island. This island is . . . nice, but I asked around, and no one here has heard of Hamilton either.”

“Well,” said Winsome, “do you want to be my assistant?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re looking for a way home, right? The Doppelganger goes just about everywhere. You can help me make deliveries, and you’ll be able to look for answers in a lot more places than you could by walking. Or swimming.”

“Isn’t that the same as you telling me where to go?”

Winsome smiled. “You’re getting smarter by the minute. But don’t get too smart. Sail with me for a while. I need the help. If you don’t like it, I’ll drop you off wherever you want. No hard feelings.”

Laurie thought a moment, biting her lip. “Okay,” she said, “you’ve got yourself a deal!”