Night of the Giant Everything (5 page)

“AAAIIIII!”

I let out a scream as the spider shot out two legs and grabbed me by the shoulders. The hard, stiff legs dug into my skin.

With incredible strength, it pulled me toward its gaping mouth. I struggled to free myself. But I was no match for it.

I opened my mouth to scream again—but stopped as the shadow of the bird covered me in darkness.

I heard a sharp
snap.
Saw the huge beak swoop down in front of me—and grab the spider!

“Huh?” I uttered a startled gasp as Bugsy tightened his beak over the spider. The bird lifted the spider off the floor. Turned and flapped away with it.

For a few seconds, I didn’t move. I stood there shaking. I could still feel the hard pinch of the spider’s legs on my shoulders. And I couldn’t
get that gaping, drool-covered mouth from my mind.

I took a deep breath and held it. I knew I had to get out of the house—fast. Bugsy wouldn’t be happy with his spider meal. He’d be back looking for me—the other bug—any second.

I knew what I had to do. I had to get to Ava’s house. I had to find out what she and Courtney gave me to drink.

But could I get all the way across the street to Ava’s house?

My trip down the stairs had been a nightmare. Would I have to fight every ant, every squirrel, every bunny rabbit, every bug hiding in our front yards to get there?

I had no choice. I had to try.

My heart still thudding in my chest, I ran to the front door. I stopped a few feet in front of it, gazing up at the doorknob high above my head.

Problem Number One: How to open the door?

I gazed down at the crack under the door. Too narrow for me to squeeze through.

I studied the doorknob. Even if I could reach it, I wouldn’t be strong enough to turn it.

And the door was probably locked. That meant turning the knob above the doorknob.

No way. No way. No way.

I heard Bugsy chirp somewhere behind me. The sound sent a chill racing down my back.

I knew I didn’t have much time. But what could I do?

“Hey—wait!” I slapped my forehead. I stared at the mail slot. I was tiny enough to slip through it.

Then I saw the pair of boots standing at the door. My dad’s boots, the tall ones he wears to go hunting in the deep woods.

I grabbed the toe of the nearest boot and rubbed my hands over the rough leather. Then I raised my eyes to the thick crisscross of laces.

I knew what I had to do. Hoist myself onto the toe of the boot. Then use the laces as a rope ladder. Climb the laces. Pull myself to the top of the boot.

That would take me almost to the mail slot.

If I could lift the metal lid of the mail slot, I could slide through it. And drop onto the front stoop.

Another bird chirp in the room behind me moved me to action.

I pressed both hands flat on the toe of the boot—and heaved myself onto it. I stayed on my hands and knees, waiting to catch my balance.

Then I crawled over the toe to the bottom of the laces. The laces felt rough in my hands. They were as thick as ropes.

I wrapped both hands around the bottom laces and pulled myself to a standing position. Then I grabbed the next crisscross of laces.

I gazed up. This wasn’t going to be easy. It was like climbing a mountain that rose
straight up.

I pulled myself higher. And dug my plastic shoes into the laces beneath me.

I found I could lean my weight against the tongue of the boot as I carefully pulled myself up.

One more row of laces. Then the next.

My arms ached. The scratchy laces had turned my hands red. Leaning on the tongue, I dug my shoes into the X of laces beneath me. And tugged myself up higher.

I was breathing hard. Sweat poured down my face as I reached the top of the boot.

I gripped the worn leather at the top. The mail slot shimmered just a few inches over my head.

I can do this!
I told myself.
I can do this!
I let go of the boot—and flung myself at the mail slot lid.

But my shoes caught on the edge of the boot.

My hands grabbed
air.

And I started to fall. Headfirst. Inside the boot.

Into the cavelike darkness of the boot.

Down … down … Screaming all the way.

“OWWW!”

I landed hard on one shoulder. My body thudded onto the leather bottom of the boot.

I rolled onto my back and tried to shake off the pain. It was dark down here and smelly. I grabbed the wall of the boot. The leather was smooth. I slid right back down.

I raised my eyes to the top. Pale light poured down from the opening above me.

I pressed both hands against the side and tried to climb. Too slippery and nothing to hold on to. No way I could get back to the top. And I was too small to push the tongue away and climb back to the laces.

I was stuck.

I tried to hold my breath. The smell down here was sharp and gross. It smelled like sweat and damp socks.

I’d been so close … so close to grabbing the mail slot.

Angrily, I slammed my fist against the wall of the boot.

That gave me an idea. I shoved both fists into the side of the boot. I felt it tilt a little.

I lowered my shoulder and slammed it into the boot wall. Then I dove to the other side and shoved against it.

The boot was rocking from side to side. I pushed one side, then dove into the other side. I whirled from side to side, making the boot tilt harder …

… until it toppled over.

“Whooooaaa!”

I went sliding out headfirst. It was like going down a long waterslide — without the water.

The boot rocked onto its side, and I came tumbling out.

I didn’t wait to catch my breath. One boot lay on its side. The other boot stood straight up in front of the door.

I scrambled to the other boot. I hoisted myself onto the toe, crawled to the laces—and began the long, steep climb again.

A little while later, I gripped the top of the boot. The metal mail slot stood inches in front of me.

Slowly, I edged myself over the side of the boot. I reached one hand out and grabbed the lid of the mail slot.

This time I wasn’t going to leap at the slot.
This time I wanted to be careful. This could be my last chance to escape Bugsy and get out of the house.

Could I lift the mail slot lid with one hand? I leaned forward and gave it a tug.

No. Too heavy for my little hands.

I leaned farther out of the boot and gripped the lid of the mail slot with both hands. “Ohhhh!”

I felt the boot start to fall from under me.

I gripped the mail slot and held on for dear life as the boot fell onto its side.

My feet dangled in the air. Instantly, my arms started to ache. My hands throbbed as I hung on tightly to the lid.

With a burst of strength, I swung my body up—and YES! YES!

My feet shot out through the slot. I let go of the lid and sailed right through.

“Ooof!”
I landed hard on my butt on the welcome mat. I waited for the pain to fade. Then I stretched my arms and legs to make sure nothing was broken.

I gazed across my front yard. I saw only shades of gray and black. It took me a few moments to realize the sun had dropped behind the trees. It wasn’t afternoon anymore. It was evening.

“Hey!” I raised my arm to shield myself as two flies buzzed around my head. The flies were as big as bats!

I could see Ava’s house across the street. I could usually run there in less than a minute. But now, her house seemed a mile or two away. And the sloping front lawn looked like a mountain.

A funny thought flashed into my mind. Maybe my cousin Mindy’s rock-and-roll Ken doll came with a little motorcycle. I could ride it across the street to Ava’s house.

Of course, it was a stupid idea. There was no way I’d risk going back into my house to find out.

But riding would definitely be better than walking.

I turned and lowered myself off the stoop, one step at a time, the way I’d climbed down the stairs.

The shortest way was right down the center of the lawn. But the grass was tall—up to my waist. I moved into it, brushing the high blades away with my shoulder.

The grass bent easily. But the sharp edges of the blades scratched my face and hands as I pushed my way toward the sidewalk.

It was slow going. The air grew cooler. The sky darkened to purple.

I was about a third of the way down the front lawn when my foot caught on something. I stumbled. Lurched forward. Both feet kicked only air.

And I fell into a deep darkness. A pit. Hidden by the grass.

A deep hole.

“Hey!” I landed on both feet. My hands shot out and touched a cool, damp wall of dirt.

I glanced up. The hole was deep. But I could probably climb the dirt wall.

Something poked my back.

I let out a startled cry. I spun around. Too dark to see.

Something poked my chest.

I reached out both hands. And felt something sticky and wet.

Something warm.

And alive.

I jerked my hands back. Squinting hard, I struggled to see what was sharing the hole with me.

It rubbed my face. It was wet and slimy. My skin prickled.

I felt it wrap itself around my neck. It smelled strong, like dirt. And its skin was wet and wrinkly and gluey.

It slid away, leaving my skin wet. It raised itself in front of me.

And in the dim evening light, I saw what it was—a worm.

Just a common earthworm. Not too frightening—unless you are six inches tall!

To me, it was as big as a python.

It curled around my waist. I grabbed its slimy, wet middle. I struggled to pry it off. But I couldn’t budge it.

I shot both hands out and felt something above my head. Looking up, I realized it was a root. Some kind of underground tree root.

I gripped it with both hands.

I swung myself up onto the root. Then I squirmed and thrashed and kicked till the worm finally loosened its grip.

I tugged myself up the root. Grabbed the dirt wall with both hands. And scrambled up the side of the hole.

Gasping for breath, I dove into the grass. I lay there panting for a long time. I kept glancing back to see if the giant worm would follow me. But it stayed down in the hole.

I stood up on shaky legs. My glittery Ken jumpsuit was soaking wet from worm slime. I tried to brush dirt off the front. But it clung to the sticky fabric.

I knew I would totally gross out Ava. But I didn’t care. It was all Ava’s fault that I was in this frightening mess.

A short while later, I stepped out of the grass and onto the sidewalk. Across the street, the lights were on in Ava’s house.

A car rolled past. The headlights blinded me. I shut my eyes and waited for the circles of light to fade.

I opened my eyes. The street was dark again. Could I make it across the street before another car came by?

I took a deep breath. I tensed my whole body. I knew I had to run faster than I’d ever run in
my life. If a car came down the block, there was no way the driver would see me.

I looked up and down the street again. Silent and dark.

Here goes.

My plastic shoes scraped the pavement as I began to run across the street. It wasn’t a big street, but it looked as long as a football field to me!

I leaped over pebbles. I swung my arms and leaned forward as I ran.

I was halfway across, running hard, when I heard voices.

I stopped in the middle of the street. Turned — and saw two gigantic kids on gigantic bikes pedaling furiously right at me.

I cried out. But, of course, they couldn’t hear me.

I tried waving my arms. But I was smaller than a Ken doll. And they didn’t have their bike headlights on.

Side by side, they came rocketing down the middle of the street. They were talking loudly, laughing, pedaling like crazy.

I tried to run. Too late. They were practically on top of me.

I hit the pavement. Dropped to my stomach on the hard asphalt. Shut my eyes and tried to squeeze my arms and legs in as tight as I could.

I could feel a heavy bike tire scrape past me. A burst of wind swept over my body as the bikes sped by.

It took only a few seconds, but it seemed like an hour. My whole body shook as I pulled myself to my feet.

A close call. I watched the two bikes disappear around the corner.

I made it to Ava’s house without any other problems. As I stepped up to her front door, I was shaking and sweaty and smelly and dirty. But mainly, I felt angry.

How could she DO this to me?

Ava’s family has a cat door at the bottom of their front door. So it was easy for me to slip inside.

The front hall was brightly lit. The house was warm and smelled of dinner. Chicken, maybe.

Creeping down the hall, I glimpsed Ava’s parents in the kitchen. They were clearing the dinner table. Dinner was over. I figured Ava must be in her room.

Luckily, the Munroe house is all on one level. No upstairs. No stairs for me to climb.

Keeping an eye out for their cat, I hurried down the hall to Ava’s room. It was at the end of the back hall. I stepped inside and gazed around.

Ava likes bright colors. Her walls were red and green. Like they were decorated for Christmas. A woolly red rug covered the floor.

She had posters of her favorite music stars up and down every wall. The posters covered almost all the space between the floor and the ceiling.

Her collection of stuffed sheep jammed the bookshelves in one corner. Dozens of round black
sheep eyes stared out at me as I made my way to the bright green table she used as a desk.

Ava was leaning over her laptop, typing furiously. She didn’t even notice the curtains blowing wildly in front of the open window in front of her. She wore a yellow T-shirt and white tennis shorts. She was barefoot.

The light from the screen made her blue eyes glow. She was biting her bottom lip, concentrating hard on what she was writing.

I stepped up beside the leg of her chair. “Ava?” I shouted up at her. “It’s me!”

She kept typing. She brushed back her blond hair with one hand and kept typing with the other.

“Ava?” I cupped my hands around my mouth to make my voice louder. “Look down! It’s me! Down here! Ava?”

She kept typing. She couldn’t hear my tiny voice.

I had no choice. I had to get her attention.

I moved forward and wrapped my arms around her bare leg. I hugged her leg tight.

She let out a deafening scream.

Did she think I was a bug? Or a rat?

Her foot flew up. I fell to the floor.

And she slammed her foot down hard to squash me.