The Bully Bug (5 page)

I followed him, trying to figure out what was going on. What if the rest of the colors went away? I didn't want to end up in a gray world. Then what if the gray went away, too?

“Hi, Lud. Hi, Bud,” Mom said when we walked into the kitchen. “I made your favorite again.”

“Thanks.” I looked at the steaming roast, fresh out of the oven, and felt sick. But something in the kitchen smelled wonderful. I walked across the floor to the garbage can. It was filled with rotten fruit. Yellow and gray peaches. A couple gray strawberries. A hunk of watermelon, green on the outside, light gray inside. Small flies buzzed around the top of the can.

“Oh, would you take that outside for me?” Mom asked. “I cleaned out the fridge today.”

“Sure.” I pulled the bag out of the can and headed to the side of the house where we keep the big cans. I couldn't believe how great the fruit smelled. But it looked awful.

Fighting the urge to take a bite of one of the peaches, I tossed out the bag and went back inside. Everyone else was already at the table.

“I don't feel hungry,” I said.

“Are you sick?” Mom asked.

I shook my head. “No. I had a big lunch. I think I'll skip dinner.”

“You know, dinner is the most important meal of the evening,” Dad said.

“I know,” I told him. “But I'm just not hungry.”

Mom looked at me with that
Are you getting sick?
look. I tried to look back at her with that
I'm fine
look.

“Maybe you'll be hungry later,” she said.

“Maybe.” I went up to the room. I might be slow to think up stuff in school, but even I knew that something strange was happening to me. I stared at my face in the mirror. My eyes looked different. Hey—that was kind of a joke. But they really did look different. They were darker. And the colored part was bigger. I picked up my toothbrush. It wasn't red anymore. It was gray. I took off my shirt and checked out the bug bites. They were fine. Not puffy or anything. There sure were a bunch of them, though. All over my chest.

But they seemed to be healing.

I went back to my room.

Pit came running in a minute later, waving an action figure in my face. “Captain Spazmodic saves the universe!” he shouted.

“That's great,” I told him.

“Want to play?” he asked.

I almost said no. I wasn't feeling real good. But playing wouldn't make me feel any worse. And I hated to let Pit down. “Sure. Let's play.”

So we sat and played for a while, saving the universe. Pit was lucky. Life was simple for him. At least, right now it was. He just had kindergarten to deal with.

“Lud,” Pit said when he was getting up to leave.

“What?”

“Danny Milliken called me stupid today.”

“Don't you listen to him,” I said. I took his arm and pulled him onto my lap. “That's going to happen. People who call names. They're the stupid ones. You remember that. Okay?”

Pit nodded. “Okay.”

“And remember something else. What do I always tell you?”

“Mellons stick together,” he said.

“That's right. No matter what. No matter who calls you names, or who makes fun of you, you've got Mom and Dad and me and everyone else in the family.”

“Yeah.” He smiled.

“Now, go to bed before May starts shouting.”

He nodded and climbed off my lap. Then he laughed and pointed at my shirt.

“What?” I asked.

“You're drooling,” he said. He threw his head back and laughed even louder.

“Thanks for letting me know.” I wiped my chin. It was soaked.

“Piiiiiittttt!”
May hollered from downstairs. “Bed tiiiimmme!”

I watched him race out of the room. Maybe it wasn't any easier in kindergarten. Maybe it's never easy.

I got up from the floor. It was still early. I can stay up later than Pit. But I was feeling really tired. And worried. Especially about not seeing red. And about all the drooling. It was bad enough being big and stupid. It would be awful to be all slobbery on top of that. People who don't care either way about sweat can get all funny about a little bit of spit. That's a fact.

Right now, all I could do was get ready for bed. Maybe I could figure out something tomorrow. Or better yet, maybe I'd wake up and be all normal, like when you go to sleep sick but in the morning your fever is all gone. That's the best kind of problem—the kind that goes away all by itself.

But I didn't get better while I was asleep. I got buggier. A whole lot buggier.

 

Ten

EAT PLENTY OF GREENS

 

I woke up early again. Bud was still snoring away. At least this time I wasn't hanging from the ceiling. As I sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched, I noticed there were dark things all over my pajama top.

“What the heck?”

I reached down and tried to brush one off. It was like a thin spike, about as thick as the tube inside those clear pens. The spike didn't brush off. I pulled at one, but it wouldn't pull out, either. When I pulled, I felt this strange tugging at my chest.

I didn't like that feeling at all. I yanked off my top. Oh man. The things were stuck on me. No. It was even worse: They were growing out of me. I ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.

All over my chest, on my arms, too, I had them. Wherever I had a bite, a thick hair or two was sticking up. I touched the tip of one. It was springy, but kind of sharp, too. Then I felt my chest. The skin around the hair had turned hard, like plastic. I tapped it with a fingernail, and it made this clicking sound.

Man. I didn't want anyone to see that. They'd think I was some kind of freak. There's a kid in school with a bunch of pimples on his forehead, and everyone makes fun of him. I can imagine what they'd do to me.

Someone was walking down the hall. It sounded like Dad. I slammed the bathroom door shut and grabbed a shirt from the laundry basket on the floor. It didn't help. The hairs stuck right out through the shirt.

Oh man. I reached under the shirt and tried to smooth the hairs down. They sprang right back up.

I looked around the bathroom. I saw Dad's razor. But the thought of cutting the hairs made me shiver. I was afraid it would hurt. Worse, I was afraid what might drip out of them if I cut them. Maybe some kind of green goo.

There had to be something I could do. Dad's hair gel! That was it. I grabbed the jar and scooped up a big handful, then reached under my shirt and tried again. This time, the hairs stayed. After I'd slicked down the hairs on my chest, I took care of the ones on my arms.

I opened the door and walked into the hall, going past Dad.

He looked at me and sniffed. “You smell nice,” he said.

Oh man. I'd forgotten that Dad's hair gel smelled. I just couldn't win. If I kept it on, I'd smell like a barbershop. If I washed it off, I'd be walking around with hairs sticking out all over my chest, looking like a porcupine or a cactus person.

I went down to breakfast.

“You smell nice,” Mom said. She smiled.

Pit shook his head. “You stink,” he said. He pinched his nose.

I checked my shirt, making sure none of the hairs had popped back up. Now I really didn't feel like eating. “I got to get to school early,” I said. I stood up from the table and headed for the door.

It felt strange walking to school by myself. I was so used to going everywhere with Bud. But I just had to get away. It was still early, and there was nobody in the yard when I got there. I walked around back. There was this spot off on the side where each class plants a tree when they graduate. They'd been doing it since the school was built thirty years ago, so some of the trees are pretty big. I went over there and leaned against a tree. According to the sign, it had been planted ten years ago.

I stood for a while, trying to figure out what to do. The voice startled me.

“Lud, stop that. You're killing the tree.”

I looked up. It was Dawn. She pointed at my hand. I hadn't realized I was holding a handful of fresh, green leaves. Worse, when I tried to say something, I realized my mouth was full. I spat out a hunk of half-chewed leaves.

“You are so gross,” she said.

“But…” I looked at the tree. Two of the lower branches were bare. All the leaves were gone. My stomach felt full, like I'd just stuffed myself with three or four hot dogs. Oh man, I'd been eating leaves. And I didn't even know what I was doing. It was like when you get going on a bag of chips and eat them without thinking about it. Once, I watched Bud eat a whole bag of oatmeal-raisin cookies while he was watching television. I don't think he even tasted them. But this wasn't chips or cookies. It was leaves.

Then Dawn smiled and said, “But I'll say one thing for you—you smell nice.”

“Thanks.”

“Just take it easy on the trees.” She walked off. I looked around. There still wasn't anyone in the yard. Dawn must have come early to work on a project. At least nobody else had seen me.

There was no question. I needed help. But there wasn't anybody in my family who could help me. If it was a problem with a machine, I could ask Dad. If it was a problem with regular kid stuff, I could ask Mom. But this wasn't something a mom or dad would know about.

I didn't have a choice. There was only one person smart enough to help me. Except I wasn't sure I could show him my problem without scaring him to death.

 

Eleven

SHOW AND TELL

 

I had to talk to the nerd.
When you need a screwdriver, don't try to do the job with a fork.
That's what Dad says. I walked out to the front of the school and waited. Finally, I saw him coming down the street with his show-off friend, Sebastian. I headed toward them, wondering how I could get the nerd alone so I could talk with him.

But as soon as they spotted me, they turned off and dashed for the back door of the school. By the time I got there, they'd gone inside.

Then the bell rang, so I went in, too. I started searching the halls. I knew I'd catch up with the nerd in my first class, but I wanted to talk to him right away.

“Hey, wait up.”

I looked over my shoulder. It was Bud. “Not now,” I said.

“Why'd you run off?” he asked.

“I'll tell you later.”

The bell rang. I rushed into class. The nerd was already at his seat. I headed toward him.

“Okay, everyone,” Mr. Phermat said. “Let's get settled. Take your seats. There'll be no talking during the test.”

Oh man. I sat down and tried to get the nerd's attention. He didn't even look my way. He seemed happy to be taking a test.

It would have to wait until the end of class. I looked at the test. Man. There weren't even any airplane problems. It was all trains and cars and stuff. I'd bet Mr. Phermat did it that way just to make sure I'd flunk.

I'd show him. I got out my pencil and tried my best. But it was no use. The problems didn't make any more sense than they ever did. Worst of all, I was trying so hard, I didn't even hear the bell. The next thing I knew, Mr. Phermat was standing at my desk, taking my test paper from me. I looked around. The nerd had already gone. He'd probably been the first one to hand in his test.

I left the class and checked the hall. The nerd was far ahead. He stopped at the end of the hall and looked around. Then he ducked into the boys' room. Perfect. I'd finally be able to talk to him. I went down the hall and followed him in. By then, he was at the sink, washing his hands. A blast of hot air hit me. The radiator was stuck, so it was on all year round.

As the door closed behind me, the nerd glanced over. His eyes locked on me for a second with a look of so much fear that I laughed. I couldn't help it. He turned his head away.

I walked over to him. He tried to dash past me.

“Not so fast,” I said, putting out a hand to block him.