“Certainly not,” said the clerk, a nice old lady. But she winked and said, “If you buy it today, you can have it for twenty-five dollars less. And look, its charger comes with it, and this nice case.” She turned the tablet on, and Norm saw that it worked fine.
     He arrived home out of breath. “MOM! Mommmmm, I found a used orPad for sale for a hundred and twenty-five dollars! I have ninety-one. I need to borrow thirty-four dollars. PLEAASSSSE! I can pay you back by doing more work for Uncle Fred.” He said all that in a rush. Burny was excited too, because Norm was.
     Norm ran the entire distance back to the thrift shop, only to discover that the purchase required $10.31 sales tax, and he didn’t have enough. He returned half an hour later with the correct amount, but now he was exhausted.
     “Where did this tablet come from?” he asked, as the clerk rang up his purchase.
     “I’m sorry, I don’t know. It arrived in an anonymous donation box.”
     Norm brought the tablet triumphantly into the house just as his father got home from work. “Look!” said Norm. “It’s the best birthday present I ever got, and it’s not even my birthday yet.”
   Norm was fortunate to buy his tablet when he did. The next day that thrift shop was gone. By the time school started, the space had been rented to a Chinese restaurant.
 

Norm ate dinner impatiently, talking nonstop about his plans for his orPad. His parents looked at each other, perhaps rolling their eyes. Afterward, Norm went into his room, Burny following.
     Norm turned the tablet on. He recognized several of its games, but at the bottom of the screen he saw something unusual—an application without a name. Its icon was a plain black square.
     Naturally, Norm started it.
     To his surprise, the tablet spoke to him. He’d heard apps speak, but this sounded more like a person and less like a computer. “Be sure to eat before using this application. Have you eaten recently?” The voice was feminine and calm.
     “Uh—yes, I just ate dinner,” said Norm, feeling stupid about talking to an orPad.
     “Good! Could I have your name and age, please?”
     “Norm Pardee, and tomorrow is my twelfth birthday.”
     “Norm Pardee, this application will send you on magical adventures. Sit in a comfortable chair, or lie down. Turn the lights low, or even off. Then say START. If you want instructions, say HELP.”
     Norm closed his curtains to block out the light of the setting sun and lay back on his bed holding the tablet above him like a book. Burny sat on the floor, his head higher than Norm’s.
     “Start,” said Norm. Boys of twelve don’t need instructions.
     “Watch the display, Norm Pardee, and listen to the music.” The screen filled with lights that swirled and pulsed and flashed, while music played that sounded like a merry-go-round. A faint breeze touched Norm’s cheek, and he felt dizzy. He closed his eyes and was quickly asleep, the tablet falling to the bed beside him.
 

“Hey, Norm! Norm! It’s me!”
     Norm was surprised to find his bedroom dark. He snapped on the bedside light to see who had spoken. He and Burny were alone in the room. The tablet lay on the bed, silent and dark.
     “Norm?”
     Norm was flabbergasted. “Burny! You can talk!”
     “I always could. You just didn’t understand me.”
     “But—all I’ve ever heard from you is dog noises.”
     “Excuse me? Nothing wrong with dog noises. I’m a dog.”
     Norm looked around the room, which was unchanged. He pinched himself. Ouch! Definitely awake. He knelt on the floor, close to Burny.
     “Burny, you’re talking! Just like in my dream long ago! It was because of the dream that I knew you were the right dog, at the animal shelter. From the beginning, I could see in your eyes that you had something to say. I always wanted to talk to you, and never gave up.”
     “I nearly gave up on you,” Burny said. “Thank goodness you’re smarter than I thought.”
     “Weird. I ran an orPad app, and now I can understand you. That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
     “Norm, lots of things don’t make sense to me.”
     They sat silently, Norm overjoyed that he could converse with his dog. Finally he asked, “What did I miss? What have you been telling me?”
     “To start with, I hate my name. It reminds me of burning my tail. I’ve told you from the beginning that my name is Roderick.”
   “What else? Tell me what you said your first night here.”
   “I was afraid you’d bring that up.” Burny hesitated, embarrassed. “OK. I said I was sorry I spilled the water and threw up. It was all because I wasn’t used to walking on carpet.”
     “And?”
     “Do I have to?”
     “Yes.”
     Burny sighed. “For a boy who took so long to understand me, you’re awfully pushy.”
     “Come on, Burny. Tell me what you said when your tail got burned.”
     “No. You learn a lot of naughty words from older dogs at the shelter, and I will not repeat them.”
     “Wait! Dogs talk to each other?”
     “Most of them.”
     Norm was sleepy. He knew he should brush his teeth and put on his pajamas, but he couldn’t seem to do it. His eyelids were so heavy that it felt good just to lie there and drift off to sleep.