Night of the Giant Everything (3 page)

The sour taste puckered my lips. I started to gag.

I knew I was going to hurl. With another cry, I turned and ran off the stage.

I could hear the roar of laughter in the auditorium. Kids were shrieking and laughing their heads off.

It was a riot back there. I could hear teachers shouting for everyone to get quiet. A few teachers came running to help me.

I cupped my hand over my mouth and ran to the bathroom backstage. But by the time I got there, my stomach had settled down a little. I didn’t feel like puking anymore.

I leaned against the wall, trying to settle myself. Trying to think clearly about what had just happened.

My act was going beautifully, perfectly—and then it was
ruined.

But how? Why?

Then I saw Ava and Courtney come staggering toward me. They were hugging each other, slapping high fives, laughing.

Why were they
celebrating?

“Wh-what happened?” I stammered. I still felt queasy. The burning sour taste lingered in my mouth. I kept swallowing. Swallowing. Trying to get rid of it.

“What happened? What was in that paper cup? What did you give me?”

I lurched to the water fountain on the wall and gulped down about a gallon. Then I turned back to them. They were still giggling and enjoying themselves.

I grabbed each one by the arm. “Tell me. What did you put in that cup?”

They finally stopped giggling.

“Just something we mixed up in the chem lab,” Courtney said.

“Huh? Are you
serious?”
I shrieked.

They both nodded.

“You gave me
chemicals
to drink?” I cried.

They laughed.

“We just poured in whatever we could find,” Ava said. “You know. We pulled bottles off the shelf and poured them in.”

I grabbed my throat. “But—but—why?” I sputtered.

“You deserved it,” they both said at the same time. Then they spun away and took off, running to the backstage door.

“I — I’ve been … poisoned,” I murmured. I stood there, my heart pounding, my brain spinning.

I could still taste the bitter chemicals on my tongue. My stomach lurched again.

I forced myself to move. I picked up Bugsy in his metal birdcage. And I ran out the back door.

Into the sunny, cool afternoon. I ran across the empty playground. I flew across the street without checking for traffic.

I ran without seeing, without thinking. Ran all the way home.

I burst through the kitchen door. Set Bugsy’s cage down on the counter.

And started to shout: “Mom! Dad! Help me!”

No one home.

I swallowed some more. I tried to fight down my panic.

I’m okay. I’m okay,
I told myself.

I’ll brush my teeth,
I decided.
That will get rid of this putrid taste.

I ran to the stairs—and stumbled into a bucket and mop. Water sloshed over my sneakers and made a soapy puddle on the floor.

Mom or Dad must have been mopping the floor and left the mop and pail at the bottom of the stairs.

I stepped around it and pulled myself up the stairs two at a time.

The upstairs hall felt warmer than downstairs. It smelled piney up here. Someone had definitely been cleaning. Probably Dad. He’s the big cleaner in our family.

I passed the guest room, then my room. The bathroom was at the end of the hall.

“Hey!” I let out a startled shout. And stumbled into the wall.

I pushed both hands against the pale pink wallpaper and spun around.

What just happened?
It took me a few seconds to realize. I was standing barefoot on the dark purple carpet.

I’d stepped right out of my sneakers.

But—how? They were tightly laced.

I left them in the middle of the floor and walked down the hall.

Nearly to the bathroom, I tripped over my jeans.

Huh? Why are my pants falling off?

I hitched them up with one hand. I felt strange, a little dizzy. I blinked a few times. The wallpaper seemed to be rising up on both sides of me.

I glanced up. That made me feel even dizzier. The ceiling suddenly appeared much higher than usual. The bathroom door rose a mile over my head.

Was something wrong with my eyes?

My tongue felt dry. Kind of itchy. I could taste the sour chemicals on the roof of my mouth.

It’s going to take a lot of toothpaste to get rid of this taste,
I thought.

I stepped up to the sink and reached for my toothbrush.

“Whoooaaa!”

What’s up with this?

Why did I have to stand on tiptoe to reach over the sink?

My arms weren’t long enough to reach the toothbrush in its cup. I had to jump high to grab it.

I wrapped my hand around it. The toothbrush felt so heavy. I had to hold it in both hands.

Whoa. Wait. Wait …

My head barely poked above the sink. I couldn’t reach the faucet.

I didn’t want to believe it. But I had no choice.

I stood there, my whole body trembling. My teeth began to chatter in fear. The toothbrush was almost as big as a baseball bat!

“I … can’t be shrinking,” I murmured. My voice came out so tiny and high.

“I can’t be shrinking. That’s impossible — right?”

That’s when the clothes fell off my body. My jeans fell to the floor and sagged around me. My T-shirt slid off and puddled around my ankles.

I stood there totally naked and stared up at the sink high above my head.

“It’s impossible — right? I can’t be shrinking.”

I stepped away from the pile of my clothes. My socks were as big as our laundry bags.

I hugged myself to try to keep from trembling. I stood there, naked, staring up at the bottom of the sink high above me.

I felt totally strange. My heart was beat-beat-beating like I had a hummingbird inside me. A water drip in the sink made me jump. The loud noise rang like a bell clanging.

I hugged myself tighter. I was numb with fright. I mean, my skin felt cold and numb. I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering.

How short am I? I wondered.

I turned. I was standing beside the bathroom scale. It was too tall to step up on. I had to hoist myself up using both hands.

How much did I weigh? I stood on the scale. But I was too light to make it go down. The dial showed
zero.

That sent a shudder down my already cold back.

I hopped down from the scale. I couldn’t tell how tall I was. Maybe six inches tall, maybe eight or nine.

Did it matter?

I thought Ava and Courtney were my friends. But they gave me chemicals that made me shrink. They
poisoned
me!

Okay, okay.
I took a deep breath and held it. But it didn’t help me fight back my panic.

Okay. They wanted revenge. But how could they do this to me?
How?

Then a question flashed into my panicked mind. A question that sent shivers of fear down my tiny body.

Was I going to be a tiny person for the rest of my life?

No. Impossible.

I had to get back to my normal size. I had to sit down and
think.

I had to get to my room. I had to figure out something. Make a plan.
Do
something!

And I had to find something to wear.

I ran out of the bathroom. My feet slapped the floor tiles but barely made a sound.

Out into the hall. The purple carpet was thick and tall. It came up over my ankles and scratched my legs.

I saw my sneakers halfway down the hall. They looked like big boats riding on a purple lake.

What can I wear?

I couldn’t walk around naked.

I stepped into my room. The bed rose up like a mountain. I had to crane my neck to see to the top of my bookshelves.

I’d left a pile of dirty clothes on the floor. But
of course they were all too big. I tried to pull up a white sock. It was almost as tall as me. And too heavy to wrap around me.

I sat down on a bunched-up pair of jeans to think. What could I wear? What would fit me?

I realized that maybe I was staring at the answer. On the bottom bookshelf. My two marionettes.

One was a clown in a red-and-white polka-dot clown costume. That wouldn’t be very good. But the other marionette was a man in a brown business suit.

Of course, I’d look totally lame in a brown business suit made for a puppet. But I was only six or eight inches tall. I really couldn’t be choosy.

I ran to the bookshelf. I kept tripping on the white shag rug.

I lowered my shoulder and pushed through the thicket of wool. It was like fighting my way through a jungle. The wool stuck to my legs and scratched my knees. It seemed to take an
hour
to reach the shelf.

I fumbled with the two marionettes. They were bigger than I’d thought. It took all my strength to push the clown marionette away.

I reached for the businessman. The puppet was on its back, staring up. The strings were tangled all around it.

I struggled to push the strings away so I could sit the puppet up. Undressing it wasn’t going to be easy.

I tugged off the shiny black shoes. They were made of some kind of plastic. Would they fit me?

Only one way to find out.

I dropped onto the edge of the bookshelf. Gripped the left shoe in both hands—and pulled it on.

Yes! It was my size!

I didn’t celebrate. What a horrifying thought. My foot was the same size as a puppet foot!

I pulled on the other shoe and stood up. I tried walking along the edge of the shelf. The plastic shoes squeaked. They were a little tight. But at least they covered my bare feet.

I tried to stand the puppet up, but I wasn’t strong enough. It was taller than me. I had to try to pull the suit off with the marionette lying on its back.

I dropped to my hands and knees and started to pull off the marionette’s silky suit pants. I grabbed the waist and tried to tug down. But the pants didn’t move.

I pulled harder.

Then I saw that I was wasting my time. The puppet’s strings were nailed to its body. And the nails went through the clothes.

No way could I tug the pants off without
ripping them to pieces. Or getting them completely tangled in the strings.

With a sigh, I jumped down off the bookshelf.

There I was, less than ten inches tall, totally naked except for squeaky black plastic shoes. Frantically, I gazed around my room.

What could I wear?

I blinked when I saw the two dolls on the floor at the foot of the bed. It took me a few seconds to remember that my little cousin Mindy had left them there the last time she visited.

I stumbled back through the tall wool of the shag rug. Finally, I stopped and stared at the two dolls. Barbie and Ken.

Barbie was in her doctor outfit—white lab coat and a surgeon’s cap. Her hair was tied back. She had a stethoscope around her neck. And she wore glasses.

Ken wore flashy rock-and-roll clothes. A sparkly silver jumpsuit with a neon blue shirt underneath, open to the waist. Lots of fake gold chains around his neck.

I knew this outfit wasn’t nailed to his body. Because Mindy was constantly changing their outfits. Would Ken’s clothes fit me?

Yes. Actually, the shirt was a little loose. The jumpsuit pants were too long, so I rolled up the bottoms. The gold chains I tossed aside.

Okay, I looked like a total freak. But at least I was dressed.

Now I had to calm down. Concentrate. Get my brain chugging.

Ava and Courtney gave me chemicals to drink. And the chemicals made me shrink.

I had to reach them. I had to find out exactly what they put in that paper cup.

If I knew what I drank, maybe … just maybe … our doctor or
someone
would know what I could drink to make me tall again.

Okay. I decided to call Ava first.

Gazing up, I saw my cell phone on the bed.

The bed rose over me like Mount Everest. The phone seemed miles away.

I had to reach it. I had to get up there. But
how?

I grabbed the wooden leg of the bed with both hands. I jumped off the floor and wrapped my legs around it.

I was never a good climber. I could never get to the top of the rope in gym class. And I hated the wall-climbing place at the mall.

But I had to be a good climber now.

Luckily, the little plastic shoes helped. They stuck to the wooden leg and held tight as I worked my way slowly up.

My hands were sweaty. I’d climb a few inches. Plant my feet. Reach up another few inches. But my damp hands kept sliding back down.

Halfway up, I made the mistake of looking down to the floor.

“Whoooaa!”

I’ve always had a problem with heights.

Now I felt dizzy. The room was spinning. I gripped the leg tightly and returned my gaze to the top of the bed.

Still a long way to go.

I raised my hands. Clamped them around the leg. Pushed up with the plastic shoes.

To my shock, the shoes slipped. My wet hands started to slide.

I lost my hold and started to drop.

“Noooo!” a shrill scream escaped my throat as I fell straight down.

I made a desperate grab. Swung both hands out.

And gripped the side of the bedspread.

“Yesssss!”

My hands tightened around the heavy red-and-white fabric. My body slammed into the side of the bed. But I held on tight.

I dug the shoes into the bedspread. Raised my hands and started to climb again.

By the time I reached the top of the bed, my whole body was shaking. Sweat poured down my face.

I lay facedown on the bedspread for a minute or two, struggling to catch my breath. I waited for my arms and legs to stop aching from the climb.

Pushing myself up to my knees, I let out a sad sigh. I suddenly pictured myself jumping out of bed in the morning. Or, sitting on the side of the bed, my feet resting on the floor.

Would I ever be able to do those things again? Would getting into bed at night always be like
climbing a tall mountain? Would Mom and Dad have to buy me some kind of baby bed or maybe a dog bed to sleep in?

Crazy thoughts. But do you blame me?

I shook myself, trying to force those thoughts away. And I crawled over to the phone.

Up close, it appeared bigger than a suitcase. It’s a flip phone. So the first thing I had to do was flip it open.

I gripped the lid with both hands and pushed. To my surprise, it swung up easily.
Yaaay!

The screen lit up with my screen saver—a magician’s top hat with a rabbit poking out of it.

I sighed again. My magic act at school killed. It was awesome. But then Ava and Courtney pulled the best trick of all—making me smaller than a rabbit.

“You’ll be back, Steven,” I said out loud. “This can be fixed. You’ll be back, dude.”

I was trying to cheer myself up. But it didn’t work.

I had to call Ava. I had to know what chemicals she and Courtney put in that cup.

I bent over the phone and lowered my hands to the keyboard. The keys were gigantic—as big as my mom’s pancakes.

I leaned forward and started to push Ava’s number.

“Unnnh.”
I groaned as I tried to push the speed-dial button down. It didn’t budge.

I leaned closer and spread both hands over it. Then I shoved my hands down with all my strength.

No.

Not happening.

My little hands weren’t strong enough to push the key down.

Now what?

Now what?

I pounded both fists on the button. Pounded furiously. But it wouldn’t click.

I could feel my panic start to choke my throat. I froze staring down at the giant phone keys. Suddenly, I had an idea.