Night of the Giant Everything (8 page)

I gazed at the yellow plastic water dish in the side of the cage. Could I stand on it and try to climb to the top of the cage?

No. No way to escape through the top.

Could I hide in the water dish, then surprise Dr. Marcum or Dr. Beach when they came to find me? And maybe run out while they had the cage door open?

I stepped closer to examine it. No. It was filled with water. Deep enough for me to swim in. I’d done enough swimming in that soapy bucket back home.

I spun around, trying to find something … anything….

The giant canary watched me silently as I paced the cage. I turned to it. I took a few steps toward it.

The two scientists must have given it a
lot
of Growth Hormone. It was at least
twenty
times the size of a normal canary.

I studied it for a long while. “You’re going to be my magic trick—aren’t you?” I said. “You are going to help me escape—aren’t you?” I said.

The bird tilted its head as if trying to understand.

“You’re going to work some magic,” I said softly, gently. “I know you are.”

I stepped to the edge of my cage and pressed my cheek up close to its huge orange beak. “Kiss?” I said. “Give me a kiss?”

The yellow bird didn’t move. It just stared at me with one round black eye the size of a coat button.

“Kiss?” I pressed my face through the bars. “Come on, birdie. Give me a big, wet kiss.”

I gasped as the bird lowered its beak and slurped its wet tongue down my cheek.

I swung away from the giant canary. I raised my hand. I touched the wet bird saliva on my skin.

Then I walked to the cage door and waited.

I crossed my arms in front of me and stared straight ahead. And waited for my body to start to feel different.

I waited a minute. Two minutes. Three. I didn’t move. I could still feel the touch of the bird’s tongue on my skin. Thinking about it made my whole face tingle.

And then I felt a rumbling in my stomach. A sudden ache in my arms and legs.

Was it happening? Was the Growth Hormone from the bird’s tongue going to make me bigger?

I stood perfectly still. My knees began to hurt. My toes throbbed.

The jumpsuit felt tight across my chest … around my waist.

Yes!

I started to grow. I could feel myself sliding up. Feel my skin stretch … my legs creak … my head shoot up.

My head rose to the top of the cage. I nearly filled the cage. Another few seconds and I’d be too big to get out!

I pushed hard against the latch. It popped open. I shoved the door. Swung it all the way out.

I could just barely squeeze out the opening. My arms were stretching. My legs lengthened rapidly. My stomach grew. My feet tore out of the little plastic shoes.

I hit the floor and my jumpsuit made a ripping sound—and flew off.

I stood there, startled. Totally naked. But I didn’t care. I was free. And a few seconds later, I stood tall next to the cages. I was my old height again.

Birds squawked and flapped, as if they were celebrating with me.

But I knew I still wasn’t safe. I had to get out of that lab. I had to get away from the two scientists.

Over the squawk of the birds, I heard their voices far down the hall. The exit to the lab seemed a mile away.

How could I distract them and get out the door?

Only one way. I began moving down the row, opening cage doors. I pulled and prodded the birds out of their cages.

They came flying out, eager to be free. Birds of all sizes. Birds that had been shrunk. Little birds that had been stretched into giants.

Cages toppled and crashed to the floor as I moved down the row. Birds flapped and flew and soared overhead.

Dr. Beach and Dr. Marcum came running into the aisle. They shouted angrily as birds rushed at their heads. The two men frantically grabbed at birds, trying to capture them and return them to their cages.

They were surrounded by escaped birds. Screaming and cursing and swinging their hands furiously, the two men didn’t even see me as I darted past.

I reached the exit and hurtled outside. I left the door wide open. Birds flew out and soared toward the sky.

I took off, running down the gravel path in my bare feet. Behind me, I could hear the men’s angry shouts over the deafening bird cries.

I watched to see if they were coming after me. But no. They were too busy with their escaped birds.

How did I get home? It was all a dark blur to me.

I ran all the way. I kept away from the roads. I tried to stay behind hedges and trees. I ran through backyards.

It was a dark night, no moon or stars. I don’t know if anyone saw me, a naked twelve-year-old boy running as hard as he could.

Mom and Dad were so happy to see me. Of course, they had a million questions for me. I said, “I’ll tell you everything. Just let me get some clothes on!”

I can’t tell you how happy I was when my jeans and T-shirt
fit!

At the dinner table, I told Mom and Dad everything, from the beginning. Dad called the police to tell them about the two men and their science lab in the woods.

Then I settled down to my favorite dessert. Chocolate ice cream with chocolate syrup over it.

The spoon felt good in my hand. It was the right size.

I was the right size. The
world
was the right size again.

The chocolate ice cream was helping to calm me down. All three of us had big smiles on our faces.

Then I heard a flapping sound at the window.

I gasped as Bugsy came flying in. Mom and Dad cried out in surprise.

The bird fluttered over the dining room table.

“He—he followed me home!” I stammered.

And then Bugsy landed on my shoulder. His claws dug into my T-shirt.

He leaned his beak forward.

“No!” I cried. “No, Bugsy! Don’t kiss! Don’t kiss! Bugsy! Oh, nooooo!” I wailed. “He
kissed
me!”

Well, Steven, that’s quite a tall tale you told me. Or should I call it a
short story?

Here. Let me pick you up and carry you to your room for the night. Whoa. Are you putting on weight? You must weigh at least two pounds.

Tonight you will sleep in the guest deadroom. I have a comfy dresser drawer made up for you.

Don’t be afraid. There are no birds flying around in the Hall of Horrors. Well … only vultures.

I am the Story-Keeper, and I will keep your story here where it belongs.

But now I’m being rude. We have a new guest.

Come right in, young woman. Don’t be afraid of my pet scorpions. They only sting when they haven’t been fed for a while.

Hmmmm … Have I fed them recently? I don’t remember.

What is your name, dear? Monica? I see you are carrying a Halloween mask. A very ugly, frightening mask. Does this mean you have a Halloween story for me?

Come in. Plenty of room in the Hall of Horrors. You know … There’s Always Room for One More Scream.

Ready for More?

Here’s another tale from the Hall of Horrors:

THE FIVE MASKS OF
DR. SCREEM

My brother, Peter, tightened the belt around his white karate uniform. “Monica,” he said, “if you get more Snickers bars than me, can we trade?”

He didn’t wait for me to answer.

“Mom, are we allowed to eat unwrapped candy?” he shouted. Mom was downstairs. How did he expect her to hear him?

He did a little dance and gave me a hard karate chop on the shoulder.

“Ow. Stop it, Peter,” I groaned. I rubbed my shoulder.

He laughed. “You’re such a wimp.” He pretended to chop me again. I ducked away.

“Can you get dizzy from eating chocolate?” Peter asked. “Freddy Milner says if you eat enough chocolate, you get so dizzy, you can’t walk straight.”

“Don’t try it tonight,” I said.

He staggered around the room till he crashed into the wall. Then he leaped in the air and did a high karate kick.

“Look out!” I screamed. He almost kicked my laptop off the desk.

“Why don’t you get out of my room and wait downstairs?” I said.

“Why don’t you make me?” he said. He grinned his toothy grin as he raised both fists.

Peter thinks he’s cute, but he isn’t. For one thing, he’s too tall to be cute. He’s ten — two years younger than me — but he’s nearly a foot taller than I am. He has stringy blond hair and a long, bent nose and funny teeth. He’s my brother but let’s face facts — he’s a beast.

He picked up a postage stamp from my desk. Licked it — and stuck it to my forehead. Then he collapsed laughing on my bed.

“Why did you do that?” I growled.

He shrugged. “Why not?”

Guess you can understand why I spell Peter’s name P-A-I-N.

He talks too much. He can’t stand still. He’s always dancing and chopping and kicking. And he thinks he’s funny, but he isn’t.

My friends can’t stand him.

Some kids take pills to slow them down to normal speed. But my parents make excuses for Peter. They say he’s just high energy.

Like I’m some kind of lazy slob. I’m only captain of the gymnastics team and star sprinter of the Hillcrest Middle School track team.

“What kind of costume is that?” Peter asked
with a sneer. “A pair of black shorts over purple tights?”

“It’s my gymnastics uniform,” I said.

He laughed. “You look like a freak.”

“Mom!” I shouted down the stairs. “Do I have to take him?”

I heard her footsteps on the stairs. I stepped out into the hall. She stopped halfway up and leaned on the banister.

“Monica, are you still complaining?” She blew back a strand of her curly copper-colored hair.

She and I have the same color hair. Actually, we kind of look like sisters. We’re both small and thin. Unlike Peter and Dad, both gangly hulks.

I sighed. “I just want to meet up with Caroline and Regina and hang out with them.”

“Well, you can’t,” Mom said. “You have to take Peter trick-or-treating.”

I rolled my eyes. “But, Mom, all he does is practice karate on us till we’re black and blue.”

That made Peter laugh. Behind me in my room, he picked up one of my stuffed pandas and gave it some hard chops.

“You girls can defend yourselves,” Mom said. “Kick him back.”

Peter dropped the panda to the floor. “Huh?”

“Besides, he’ll be too busy collecting candy,” Mom said. “You know he’s a total candy nut. He won’t have time to pester you and your friends.”

She shouted to Peter. “Am I right?”

“Whatever,” Peter replied.

I sighed again. “Okay, let’s get it over with,” I said.

I returned to my room and pulled a silvery mask over my eyes. Maybe people wouldn’t recognize me. The elastic band caught in my hair. As if being with my brother wasn’t enough pain.

I turned and saw Peter pull a black mask down over his eyes. It matched the black belt around his uniform. Peter is nowhere near a black belt. But he wears one anyway.

A few seconds later, we stepped out the front door. Peter hopped down the steps and went running to the street.

It was a dark October night. A half-moon hung low over the houses across the street. The wind gusted, making dead leaves swirl in circles in the front yard.

I shivered. Maybe my shorts and tights and sleeveless T-shirt were a mistake. Maybe I needed a jacket.

But as I followed Peter away from the light of the house into the blue-black darkness, I realized I wasn’t shivering from the wind.

Normally, I’m not a fraidy cat. But I just had a feeling …

… A very bad feeling about this Halloween.

Caroline wore a top hat, a ragged man’s overcoat, big floppy shoes, and a bumpy rubber nose. She spoke in a high, creaky voice and said she was a Munchkin from
The Wizard of Oz.

Regina wore gray spandex workout clothes. She had black whiskers painted on her cheeks. She said she was Catwoman. With her olive-colored eyes, she looked like a cat even without the whiskers.

All three of us are on the gymnastics team at school. So we are pretty strong and athletic.

But we were no match for Peter.

He kept dancing around us, making wide circles. Then he’d dart in and snatch something out of our trick-or-treat bags. He was a total thief.

“Give that back!” Regina cried. She made a grab for the candy bar Peter swiped. “That’s my favorite!”

“Mine, too,” Peter said, dancing away, giggling
his head off. He shoved Regina’s candy into his big shopping bag.

Regina didn’t give up easily. She let out a roar and dove at Peter.

He dodged to the side and gave her a hard karate chop — in the neck.

“Ullllp.”
Regina made a horrible noise and started to choke.

For once, Peter stopped dancing. “Oh. Sorry,” he said. “That was an accident.”

“This
is an accident, too!” Caroline cried. She lowered her shoulder and plowed right into Peter.

The two of them went rolling into a pile of dry leaves. Peter held on to his trick-or-treat bag for dear life. He swung it at Caroline, and she rolled away from him.

Regina rubbed her throat. “I’m okay,” she said.

“It was an accident. Really,” Peter insisted. He jumped up and trotted over to Regina. He held up his shopping bag. “Take a candy. Go ahead. Take any one.”

Regina eyed him suspiciously.

He shook the bag in front of her. She reached in and pulled out a big Snickers bar.

“Not
that
one!” Peter cried. He grabbed it out of her hand and backed away with it.

Regina let out a groan. “You creep!”

Caroline took Regina by the arm and started to pull her away. “Catch you later, Monica,” she called.

“Hey, wait —” I started after them. “Where are you going?”

“Away from the Karate Monster,” Caroline said.
“Far
away.”

My two friends took off, running hand in hand down the sidewalk. I watched them appear and disappear in the circles of light from the streetlamps.

Then I turned angrily to my brother. “Thanks for chasing my friends away,” I snapped.

He shrugged. “Can I help it if they’re losers?”

I wanted to punch his lights out. But we’re a nonviolent family. I mean, everyone but Peter.

So I just swung my fists in the air and counted to ten.

“Okay.” I felt a little less angry. “Let’s go home.” I started to walk, but Peter grabbed my shoulder and spun me around.

“We can’t go home, Monica. It’s too early. And look —” He shook his big shopping bag so I could hear the candy rattling around inside it. “My bag is only half full.”

I laughed. “You’re kidding, right? You really think you’re going to fill that
huge
bag? No way. That would take all night.”

“Okay, okay,” Peter replied. “Just one more block. Two more blocks. Three —”

I rolled my eyes. “One more block, Peter. But you can do both sides of the street.”

“Okay. Stand back. Here goes.” He ran full speed up the front lawn to a brightly lit house with a big grinning jack-o'-lantern in the front window. A flickering candle inside it made its jagged eyes glow.

I stayed at the curb and watched him ring the doorbell. A girl in a Dora the Explorer costume appeared at the door.

Shivering, I hugged myself. The wind had grown colder. It felt heavy and damp, as if it might snow. The half-moon had disappeared behind dark clouds.

It was getting late. I glanced up and down the street. I didn’t see any other trick-or-treaters. Peter is such a candy freak. I knew he’d stay out all night if he could.

But I wanted to get home and warm up. And call Regina and Caroline and apologize for Peter for the ten-thousandth time this month.

I stayed down by the curb and watched him run from house to house. This was his biggest night of the year. Bigger than Christmas.

When he got home, he’d turn the shopping bag over on his rug and dump out all the candy. Then he’d sort it for hours, making piles of one candy bar and then another.

He’s so totally mental. Sometimes when he was smaller he’d actually roll on his back in his Halloween candy, like a dog.

Of course, that was when he was still cute. Now, he only
thinks
he’s cute.

I watched him run up to the last house on the block. It was a tiny square house with two bikes lying on their sides in the front yard. A young woman answered the door and started to hand Peter an apple.

“No way!” he cried. “No apples!” He spun away before she could drop it in his bag. Then he leaped off her front stoop and came running toward me.

“Monica, we have to do one more block,” he said breathlessly.

I crossed my arms in front of me. “Peter, you promised,” I said. “One last block. That was it.”

“But — but —” he sputtered. “Did you see what happened up there? She tried to give me an
apple!
No candy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Big tragedy,” I said.

“Come on, Monica. Give me a break.” He started to pull me across the street.

“It’s late,” I said. “Mom and Dad will be worried. Do you see anyone else still out here?”

He didn’t answer. He tore across the street and started to run along a tall hedge at the corner.

“Peter? Come back here!” I called after him.

But he disappeared into the deep shadow of the hedge.

Where were we? I couldn’t read the street sign. The streetlight was really dim. Without any moonlight, it was too dark to see anything.

Tall hedges rose up like black walls. Behind them, high trees whispered and shook.

We never go this far, I told myself. I don’t know this block.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, houses came into focus. Big houses on top of steep, sloping lawns. No lights in the windows. No one moving. No cars on the street.

A sudden howl made my skin prickle.

Was that a cat? Or just the strong wind through the old trees?

I realized my heart was suddenly thudding in my chest. I turned and chased after Peter.

He was halfway up a long driveway that led to an enormous house nearly hidden behind hedges and tall shrubs. The house looked like an old castle, with pointed towers on both sides.

“Peter?” My voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

I trotted to catch up to him. “Let’s go home,” I said. “This house is totally dark. The
whole block
is totally dark. We’ve wandered into a weird neighborhood.”

He laughed. “You’re afraid? Ha-ha. Look at you. Shaking like a baby.”

“I — I’m not afraid. But it’s creepy,” I said. “Let’s go. Now. No one is going to answer the door here.”

He adjusted the belt on his karate uniform.
Then he straightened the black mask over his eyes. “Let’s see,” he said.

He pushed the doorbell. I could hear loud chimes inside the house.

Silence.

“See? No one’s coming,” I said. “Come on, Peter. I’m freezing. And you have plenty of candy. Let’s go home.”

He ignored me, as usual. He pushed the doorbell again and held it in.

Again, I heard the chimes on the other side of the tall wooden door.

The trees shook in a strong wind gust. Dead leaves blew up against the front stoop, as if trying to get to us.

I heard another howl. Far away. It sounded almost human.

“Peter, please —” I whispered.

And then I heard footsteps. A clicking sound inside the house.

The door squeaked and then slowly slid open. A dark-haired woman in a long dress peered out at us.

Gray light shone behind her. I couldn’t see her face clearly. It was hidden in shadow.

“Trick or treat,” Peter said.

The woman took a step toward us. I could see her dark eyes go wide.

“Oh, thank goodness!” she cried. “You’re here. I
knew
you would come!”