03 - Monster Blood (3 page)

“I have a stupid name, too,” the girl admitted. She waited for Evan to ask.

“What is it?” he said finally.

“Andrea,” she said.

“That’s not a stupid name.”

“I hate it,” she said, pulling a blade of grass off her leggings. “Annndreeea.” She stretched the name out in a deep, cultured
voice. “It sounds so stuck up, like I should be wearing a corduroy jumper with a
prim, white blouse, walking a toy poodle. So I make everyone call me Andy.”

“Hi, Andy,” Evan said, petting Trigger. “My name is—”

“Don’t tell me!” she interrupted, clamping a hot hand over his mouth.

She certainly
isn’t
shy, he thought.

“Let me guess,” she said. “Is it a stupid name, too?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s Evan. Evan Stupid.”

She laughed. “That’s
really
a stupid name.”

He felt glad that he made her laugh. She was cheering him up, he realized. A
lot of the girls back home didn’t appreciate his sense of humor. They thought he
was silly.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Walking Trigger. You know. Exploring the neighborhood.”

“It’s pretty boring,” she said. “Just a lot of houses. Want to go into town?
It’s only a few blocks away.” She pointed down the street.

Evan hesitated. He hadn’t told his aunt he was going into town. But, what the
heck, he thought. She wouldn’t care.

Besides, what could possibly happen?

“Okay,” Evan said. “Let’s check out the town.”

“I have to go to a toy store and look for a present for my cousin,” Andy
said, hoisting her bike up by the handlebars.

“How old are you?” Evan asked, tugging Trigger toward the street.

“Twelve.”

“Me, too,” he said. “Can I try your bike?”

She shook her head as she climbed onto the narrow seat. “No, but I’ll let you
run alongside.” She laughed.

“You’re a riot,” he said sarcastically, hurrying to keep up as she began to
pedal.

“And you’re stupid,” she called back playfully.

“Hey,
Annnndreeeea—
wait up!” he called, stretching the name out to
annoy her.

A few blocks later, the houses ended and they entered town, a three-block
stretch of low two-story shops and offices. Evan saw a small brick post office,
a barbershop with an old-fashioned barber pole out front, a grocery, a drive-through bank, and a hardware store
with a large sign in the window proclaiming a sale on birdseed.

“The toy store is in the next block,” Andy said, walking her bike along the
sidewalk. Evan tugged Trigger’s leash, encouraging him to keep up the pace.
“Actually there are two toy stores, an old one and a new one. I like the old one
best.”

“Let’s check it out,” Evan said, examining the cluttered window display of
the video store on the corner.

I wonder if Aunt Kathryn has a VCR, he thought. He quickly dismissed the
idea. No way….

The toy store was in an old clapboard building that hadn’t been painted in
many years. A small, hand-painted sign in the dust-smeared window proclaimed:
Wagner’s Novelties & Sundries. There were no toys on display.

Andy leaned her bike against the front of the building. “Sometimes the owner
can be a little mean. I don’t know if he’ll let you bring your dog in.”

“Well, let’s give it a try,” Evan said, pulling open the door. Tugging hard
on his leash, Trigger led the way into the store.

Evan found himself in a dark, low-ceilinged, narrow room. It took awhile for
his eyes to adjust to the dim light.

Wagner’s looked more like a warehouse than a store. There were floor-to-ceiling shelves against both walls, jammed with
boxes of toys, and a long display counter that ran through the center of the
store, leaving narrow aisles that even someone as skinny as Evan had to squeeze
through.

At the front of the store, slumped on a tall stool behind an old-fashioned
wooden cash register, sat a grumpy-looking man with a single tuft of white hair
in the center of a red, bald head. He had a drooping white mustache that seemed
to frown at Evan and Andy as they entered.

“Hi,” Andy said timidly, giving the man a wave.

He grunted in reply and turned back to the newspaper he was reading.

Trigger sniffed the low shelves excitedly. Evan looked around at the stacks
of toys. It appeared from the thick layer of dust that they’d been sitting there
for a hundred years. Everything seemed tossed together, dolls next to building
sets, art supplies mixed in with old action figures Evan didn’t even recognize,
a toy drum set underneath a pile of footballs.

He and Andy were the only customers in the store.

“Do they have Nintendo games?” Evan asked her, whispering, afraid to break
the still silence.

“I don’t think so,” Andy whispered back. “I’ll ask.” She shouted up to the
front, “Do you have Nintendo games?”

It took awhile for the man to answer. He scratched his ear. “Don’t carry them,” he grunted finally, sounding annoyed
by the interruption.

Andy and Evan wandered toward the back of the store. “Why do you like this
place?” Evan whispered, picking up an old cap pistol with a cowboy holster.

“I just think it’s neat,” Andy replied. “You can find some real treasures
here. It’s not like other toy stores.”

“That’s for sure,” Evan said sarcastically. “Hey—look!” He picked up a
lunchbox with a cowboy dressed in black emblazoned on its side. “Hopalong
Cassidy,” he read. “Who’s Hopalong Cassidy?”

“A cowboy with a stupid name,” Andy said, taking the old lunchbox from him
and examining it. “Look—it’s made of metal, not plastic. Wonder if my cousin
would like it. He likes stupid names, too.”

“It’s a pretty weird present,” Evan said.

“He’s a pretty weird cousin,” Andy cracked. “Hey, look at this.” She set down
the old lunchbox and picked up an enormous box. “It’s a magic set. ‘Astound your
friends. Perform one hundred amazing tricks,’” she read.

“That’s a lot of amazing tricks,” Evan said.

He wandered farther back into the dimly lit store, Trigger leading the way,
sniffing furiously. “Hey—” To Evan’s surprise, a narrow doorway led into a
small back room.

This room, Evan saw, was even darker and dustier. Stepping inside, he saw
worn-looking stuffed animals tossed into cartons, games in faded, yellowed
boxes, baseball gloves with the leather worn thin and cracked.

Who would want this junk? he thought.

He was about to leave when something caught his eye. It was a blue can, about
the size of a can of soup. He picked it up, surprised by how heavy it was.

Bringing it close to his face to examine it in the dim light, he read the
faded label: Monster Blood. Below that, in smaller type, it read: Surprising
Miracle Substance.

Hey, this looks cool, he thought, turning the can around in his hand.

He suddenly remembered the ten dollars his mother had stuffed into his shirt
pocket.

He turned to see the store owner standing in the doorway, his dark eyes wide
with anger. “What are you
doing
back here?” he bellowed.

Trigger yipped loudly, startled by the man’s booming voice.

Evan gripped the leash, pulled Trigger close. “Uh… how much is this?” he
asked, holding up the can of Monster Blood.

“Not for sale,” the owner said, lowering his voice, his mustache seeming to
frown unpleasantly with the rest of his face.

“Huh? It was on the shelf here,” Evan said, pointing.

“It’s too old,” the man insisted. “Probably no good anymore.”

“Well, I’ll take it, anyway,” Evan said. “Can I have it for less since it’s
so old?”

“What is it?” Andy asked, appearing in the doorway.

“I don’t know,” Evan told her. “It looks cool. It’s called Monster Blood.”

“It’s not for sale,” the man insisted.

Andy pushed past him and took the can from Evan’s hand. “Ooh, I want one,
too,” she said, turning the can around in her hand.

“There’s only one,” Evan told her.

“You sure?” She began searching the shelves.

“It’s no good, I’m telling you,” the owner insisted, sounding exasperated.

“I need one, too,” Andy said to Evan.

“Sorry,” Evan replied, taking the can back. “I saw it first.”

“I’ll buy it from you,” Andy said.

“Why don’t you two
share
it?” the owner suggested.

“You mean you’ll sell it to us?” Evan asked eagerly.

The man shrugged and scratched his ear.

“How much?” Evan asked.

“You sure you don’t have another one?” Andy demanded, going back to the
shelf, pushing a pile of stuffed pandas out of her way. “Or maybe two? I could
keep one and give one to my cousin.”

“Two dollars, I guess,” the man told Evan. “But I’m telling you, it’s no
good. It’s too old.”

“I don’t care,” Evan said, reaching into his shirt pocket for the ten-dollar
bill.

“Well, don’t bring it back to me complaining,” the man said grumpily, and
headed toward the cash register at the front of the store.

A few minutes later, Evan walked out into the bright daylight carrying the
blue can. Trigger panted excitedly, wagging his stubby tail, pleased to be out of the dark,
dusty store. Andy followed them out, an unhappy expression on her face.

“You didn’t buy the lunchbox?” Evan asked.

“Don’t change the subject,” she snapped. “I’ll pay you five dollars for it.”
She reached for the can of Monster Blood.

“No way,” Evan replied. He laughed. “You really like to get your way, don’t
you!”

“I’m an only child,” she said. “What can I tell you? I’m spoiled.”

“Me, too,” Evan said.

“I have an idea,” Andy said, pulling her bike off the storefront wall. “Let’s
share it.”

“Share it?” Evan said, shaking his head. “For sure. I’ll share it the way you
shared your bike.”

“You want to ride the bike home? Here.” She shoved it at him.

“No way,” he said, pushing it back toward her. “I wouldn’t ride your stupid
bike now. It’s a girl’s bike, anyway.”

“It is not,” she insisted. “How is it a girl’s bike?”

Evan ignored the question and, pulling at Trigger’s leash to keep the old dog
moving, started walking back toward his aunt’s.

“How is it a girl’s bike?” Andy repeated, walking the bike beside him.

“Tell you what,” Evan said. “Let’s go back to my aunt’s house and open up the
can. I’ll let you mess with it for a while.”

“Gee, swell,” Andy said sarcastically. “You’re a great guy, Evan.”

“I know,” he said, grinning.

Kathryn was seated in the big armchair in the living room when Evan and Andy
arrived. Who is she talking to? he wondered, hearing her voice. She seemed to be
arguing excitedly with someone.

Leading Andy into the room, Evan saw that it was just Sarabeth, the black
cat. As Evan entered, the cat turned and haughtily walked out of the room.

Kathryn stared at Evan and Andy, a look of surprise on her face. “This is
Andy,” Evan said, gesturing to his new friend.

“What have you got there?” Kathryn asked, ignoring Andy and reaching a large
hand out for the blue can of Monster Blood.

Evan reluctantly handed it to her. Frowning, she rolled it around in her
hand, stopping to read the label, moving her lips as she read. She held the can
for the longest time, seeming to study it carefully, then finally handed it back
to Evan.

As Evan took it back and started to his room with Andy, he heard Kathryn say
something to him in a low whisper. He couldn’t quite hear what she had said. It
sounded like, “Be careful.” But he wasn’t sure.

He turned to see Sarabeth staring at him from the doorway, her yellow eyes
glowing in the dim light.

“My aunt is completely deaf,” Evan explained to Andy as they climbed the
stairs.

“Does that mean you can play your stereo as loud as you want?” Andy asked.

“I don’t think Aunt Kathryn has a stereo,” Evan said.

“That’s too bad,” Andy said, walking around Evan’s room, pulling back the
window curtains and looking down on Trigger, huddled unhappily in his pen.

“Is she really your great-aunt?” Andy asked. “She doesn’t look very old.”

“It’s the black hair,” Evan replied, setting the can of Monster Blood on the
desk in the center of the room. “It makes her look young.”

“Hey—look at all these old books on magic stuff!” Andy exclaimed. “I wonder
why your aunt has all these.”

She pulled one of the heavy, old volumes from the shelf and blew away a layer
of dust from the top. “Maybe your aunt plans to come up here and cast a spell on
you while you’re sleeping, and turn you into a newt.”

“Maybe,” Evan replied, grinning. “What
is
a newt, anyway?”

Andy shrugged. “Some kind of lizard, I think.” She flipped through the
yellowed pages of the old book. “I thought you said there was nothing to do
here,” she told Evan. “You could read all these cool books.”

“Thrills and chills,” Evan said sarcastically.

Replacing the book on the shelf, Andy came over to the desk and stood next to
Evan, her eyes on the can of Monster Blood. “Open it up. It’s so old. It’s
probably all disgusting and rotten.”

“I hope so,” Evan said. He picked up the can and studied it. “No
instructions.”

“Just pull the top off,” she said impatiently.

He tugged at it. It wouldn’t budge.

“Maybe you need a can opener or something,” she said.

“Very helpful,” he muttered, studying the label again. “Look at this. No
instructions. No ingredients. Nothing.”

“Of course not. It’s Monster Blood!” she exclaimed, imitating Count Dracula.
She grabbed Evan’s neck and pretended to strangle him.

He laughed. “Stop! You’re not helping.”

He slammed the can down on the desktop—and the lid popped off.

“Hey—look!” he cried.

She let go of his neck, and they both peered inside the can.