by R. L. Stine
His hair fell over his forehead and covered one eye. He had his hands shoved into his jeans pockets. Even from the back of the room, I could see he looked uncomfortable.
“Class, we have a new student,” Ms. Foreman announced. She stood behind the kid with her hands on his shoulders. “His name is Liam Nathan.”
No, it isn’t, I told myself. A stab of fear made my chest ache. I wanted to shout. I wanted to warn Ms. Foreman.
I know who it is. And his name isn’t Liam Nathan.
I knew I had to say something. Ms. Foreman had just welcomed a monster to the classroom. But how could I tell her? If I came right out and said it, she’d never believe me. And the other kids would all be laughing their heads off.
I stared at the boy, studying him. Of course, he looked like a normal kid. Black T-shirt with a red Fender guitar decal on the front, pulled down over faded denim jeans with holes at both knees, low Converse Chuck Taylor sneakers …
But he had Robby’s hair. And he had Robby’s shy smile.
A monster. He’s a monster.
I knew the damage he could do. I knew how he could rage out of control. He could hurt people. He was totally dangerous.
How could I warn the teacher?
At the front of the room, Ms. Foreman was still offering the kid her nicest smile. “Welcome to our school, Liam,” she said. “I know everyone in our class will give you a very warm welcome.”
He nodded and murmured thanks. I could just barely hear him.
“Do you have any questions about our school?” Ms. Foreman asked him.
He pushed the hair off his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “When is lunchtime?”
That PROVES it! I thought.
The class burst out laughing, of course. But I didn’t laugh. That answer sent a chill down my back. At lunchtime, he would grow into a snarling beast and start hurting people. Maybe wreck the whole school.
I had no choice. I had to warn Ms. Foreman.
I raised my hand high and waved it in the air. “Ms. Foreman? Ms. Foreman?” I shouted.
She turned to me. “No, not yet, Jordan,” she said. “We’re not telling our true stories yet. I said I’d call on you first.”
“But—But—” I sputtered.
Then I realized the kid had his eyes locked on me. He trapped me in a cold stare. He saw me for the first time. Robby knew that I was about to tell the teacher the truth about him.
His gaze was like ice. I mean, beyond cruel. I could see he was threatening me, warning me to shut up.
I lowered my hand to the desk. Some kids were staring at me. Could they see how frightened I was?
“Liam,” Ms. Foreman said, pointing at me. “Why don’t you take that empty desk next to Jordan?”
Oh noooo.
The kid nodded and came walking down the aisle between the desks. He kept his eyes on me the whole time. He stopped in front of my desk, and I thought he was going to say something.
I thought maybe he was about to warn me to keep my mouth shut. Or threaten to do something terrible if I snitched on him.
But no. He didn’t say a word. He gave me one last look with those deep, dark brown eyes. Then edged past me and dropped onto the desk seat beside me.
I turned to the front. I clasped my hands together so he couldn’t see they were shaking. I pretended everything was okay. Perfectly normal.
Ms. Foreman sat on the edge of her desk and began talking about the class picnic. We have it on the picnic grounds at Carnival World every year. She said after the picnic, our class could go on some of the rides.
I tried to concentrate on what she was saying. But it was really hard, knowing that a dangerous monster was sitting at the desk next to me and watching my every move.
How could I pretend he wasn’t there?
And then when he tapped me on the shoulder, I nearly lost it. I nearly screamed, but somehow I held it in.
He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Did you bring lunch to school, or do you eat in the cafeteria?”
“Uh …” I froze. I could still feel the hard tap on my shoulder. His question repeated in my ears.
He was letting me know who he was. And he was warning me that lunch period was going to be a horror show.
“Jordan? Jordan? Earth calling Jordan!”
Ms. Foreman’s voice broke through my terrified thoughts. I shook “Liam’s” voice from my mind and turned toward her.
“Jordan, didn’t you hear me? It’s time for our reports. Come up here and tell the class your true story. It’s about Carnival World, right?”
“Well …” I glanced at “Liam” next to me. What would he do if I told the truth? If I told the story of how we let him escape from the carnival?
Would he attack me?
Probably.
My legs were trembling as I pulled myself to my feet. My mind was spinning. I started to make my way to the front of the class.
As I turned to face everyone, I decided what to do. I’d tell the true story about the carnival, but I’d make it sound like a joke.
I’d make everyone laugh. That way, Robby would know that I wasn’t going to snitch on him.
I shoved my hands into my jeans pockets and rocked back and forth on my shoes. Then I took a couple of deep breaths.
“You’ll never guess what happened to me at Carnival World,” I started. “I swear this is true.” I winked and made a face to make them think I was kidding, that it wasn’t true at all.
Then I told them about being trapped in the Tunnel of Fear. I changed this part a little. I made it sound like Karla was totally frightened and I had to be brave to take care of her.
Then I told them how we came out of the tunnel at the back and how the carnival owner gave us candy bars. And then I came to the part where we found the boy sitting in the cage with the sign that said not to feed him.
I grinned and tried to make it seem like I was telling a joke, a made-up story. But my voice was shaky, and kids kept shouting for me to talk louder.
Hey, I was trying to look calm, but I was scared to death. I kept my eyes on “Liam” near the back of the room, and he was watching me with the coldest stare on his face.
Was he warning me not to tell the story? Was he planning to come roaring at me if I told everyone who he was?
It’s scary enough to give an oral report in front of the class. But it’s a lot scarier to have a dangerous monster watching you and listening to your every word.
I hiccupped and everyone laughed.
“Go on, Jordan,” Ms. Foreman interrupted. “The story is just getting good.”
“I … I (hic) have the hiccups,” I said, faking that last hic. “I’ll have to finish (hic) tomorrow.”
“Sorry. This isn’t a miniseries.” She handed me a water bottle and watched as I took a long swallow. “Okay. Go on with your story,” she said.
“Well … Karla and I should have obeyed the sign,” I said. “But we felt sorry for the boy, and we gave him a few chunks of candy bar.”
“Liam” leaned forward over his desktop. His eyes were wide now. He didn’t blink or move. His hands were balled into fists on the desktop.
I knew he wanted me to stop. But I had gone too far. I had told too much of the story.
I forced a laugh. I tried to make it sound like a joke I was making up. I told how the boy started to vomit and how he grew fur and ballooned up till he was enormous.
“He became a roaring monster,” I said. “Karla and I should have obeyed the sign. But the candy turned him into a huge, angry creature. And he broke out of the cage and ran through the carnival scaring everyone and—”
Everyone was laughing now. The whole class did think it was a joke. Kids were roaring and slapping their desks and hee-hawing and hooting.
Everyone but “Liam.” He didn’t laugh.
I saw his eyes bulge. His mouth shot open. He let out a cry and jumped to his feet.
Here he comes, I told myself. I’m dead meat. Here he comes.
I
stumbled back against the wall. The laughter stopped as kids saw “Liam” leap to his feet.
His face reddened. His eyes were still bulging.
Ms. Foreman stood up from her desk chair. “Liam?” she called. “What’s wrong?”
Everyone turned to look at him. I had my eyes on the door, ready to run out of the room.
“A bee,” Liam said. “A bee. It tried to sting me.”
He’s lying!
Did I say those words or just think them? I was too scared to think straight.
He’s lying, Ms. Foreman. He was about to attack me.
“Do you see the bee now?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “I think it flew away.”
There was a lot of murmuring and tense mumbling in the room. A lot of kids don’t like bees.
Bernardo jumped to his feet, gazing all around. “I’m allergic to bees,” he told Ms. Foreman. “My whole body swells up.”
“I don’t see it,” Ms. Foreman said. “Sit down, Bernardo. You too, Liam. It must have flown back out the window.”
It took a few minutes to get everyone quiet and settled down. I didn’t move. I stood with my back against the wall, my arms crossed, waiting for Ms. Foreman to tell me I could sit down.
Finally, she turned to me. “Jordan, I’m a little confused,” she said, squinting at me.
I swallowed. “Confused?”
She nodded. “Yes. That was a very entertaining horror story. I guess you’d call it a horror story. A fantasy story, maybe? Very imaginative, very clever.”
“Thanks,” I said softly.
“But I can’t give you a passing grade,” she continued. “The assignment was to tell a true story—not a made-up story.”
I had my eyes on “Liam.” He was perched on the edge of his chair, leaning tensely over the desktop. His hands were still clenched into fists.
“But … it was a true story,” I protested.
That made a lot of kids laugh. Ms. Foreman laughed, too.
Then she shook her head. “Nice try. I don’t want to give you a failing grade, Jordan. Tell you what. I’ll call you up again after everyone else has talked. Then maybe you can tell us a true story about the carnival.”
“Yeah. Okay,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say.
I forced a grin onto my face. Like the whole thing was a joke to me. And I kind of strutted back to my seat.
But, believe me, I didn’t feel like grinning or strutting. I dropped down beside the monster and kept my eyes on the front of the room. Ms. Foreman called Shonda Fallows to the front. Shonda started to talk about her first horseback riding lesson.
I cradled my head in my hands and pretended to be totally into Shonda’s story. But I knew “Liam” had his eye on me.
And sure enough, he tapped me hard on the shoulder again.
I had no choice. I had to turn toward him.
He leaned closer and whispered. “I want to tell you something.”
I made a gulping sound. “What?” I whispered.
He hesitated. At the front of the class, Shonda was finishing her story. Some kids started to clap.
My skin was tingling again. I tensed my leg muscles, getting ready to run. “What did you want to tell me?”
“I really liked your story,” “Liam” said. “I thought it was awesome.”
I stared at him. “Thanks,” I murmured.
What does he mean by that? What is he trying to tell me?
We both knew his secret. We both knew that I knew who he really was.
He brushed his hair off his eyes. Then he settled back in his seat and turned to the front of the room.
Was he being sarcastic? Was he trying to frighten me?
I didn’t know how much longer I could sit there beside the monster without exploding. I had to tell Ms. Foreman the truth about him. I had to get over my terror—before he did something horrible.
If people got hurt, it would be my fault.
No. No way. I couldn’t let that happen.
I took a deep breath and raised my hand high. I waved it impatiently. “Ms. Foreman? Ms. Foreman?”
My heart was beating so hard in my chest, it made my voice break. I waved my hand high. “Ms. Foreman?”
She didn’t hear me. She perched on the edge of her desk again. “I forgot to eat breakfast this morning,” she said. “Does anyone have anything in their backpack I could nibble on?”
“Huh?” A gasp escaped my throat.
Shonda Fallows began to dig in her backpack. “I think I have something, Ms. Foreman.”
No. Wait.
Shonda handed Ms. Foreman a chocolate cupcake.
My breath caught in my throat. I tried to call out a warning, but I was only able to release a squeak.
“Thank you, Shonda. You’re a lifesaver,” Ms. Foreman said. She carefully peeled the paper off the cupcake. She tossed the paper onto her desk. Then she raised the cupcake in front of her—and jammed the whole thing into her mouth.
She made loud chewing sounds as she mashed the cupcake between her teeth. She began grunting like an animal. Her eyes spun in her head, and she swallowed the mashed-up cupcake with a loud gulllp.
“Oh no,” I murmured. “Oh no.” But I was helpless to do anything, frozen in shock in my chair.
Ms. Foreman leaped to her feet, tossed her head back—and let out a sick, disgusting wet burp. “BLLURRRRRRRRRRPP.”
Kids called out, laughed, gasped. Everyone was confused. Who could believe it?
I could.
And, of course, things instantly became more frightening.
The teacher opened her mouth wide, and a thick stream of orange vomit spewed into the air. It splashed over the kids in the front row.
Everyone was screaming now. Shonda raised her backpack over her head, trying to protect herself. But the hot spray of vomit poured over her, soaking the front of her T-shirt and her skirt.
Ms. Foreman stretched her arms out wide as the fur began to sprout. In seconds, her face disappeared behind the thick covering of green, prickly fur. Her arms became furry gorilla arms. Green fur poked out from her clothes.
Her body stretched up toward the ceiling. She twisted her head and roared as she grew. In seconds, she was an ugly, furious monster. A monster I knew well.
Without realizing it, I was out of my seat. “Stop!” I cried. “Robby—stop right now!”
In a fever of fright, I hurtled toward the creature. I leaped off the floor and wrapped my hands around his waist, trying to tackle him, desperate to bring him down.
“Ohhh!” I cried out when he didn’t budge. It was like trying to tackle a mountain.
Stunned, I shut my eyes. My hands slid off him and I hit the floor hard. Bounced once. Struggled to get back on my feet.
With a roar, the monster slapped both paws against my chest. Pain shot down my whole body. I started to slump back to the floor.
But he grabbed me by the front of my T-shirt. Held me up with both paws—and ripped my shirt in two.
“NOOOO!” I screamed, twisting and squirming, frantic to get away.
Why had I attacked the creature? What was I thinking?
I spun free—but for only a second. I felt the steel-hard fingers wrap around my waist. And with a hard tug, the monster tore my jeans away.
I staggered back. In my underpants. I stumbled, shaking my head, dazed.
The room echoed with terrified screams.
The monster tilted back his head in a hoarse animal roar. He swept his hand over the desk, sending everything smashing, clattering to the floor. He lifted a tall bookshelf off the wall and heaved it across the room. Kids screamed and ducked away as it crashed over desks, spilling books everywhere.
With another roar, he overturned the aquarium, sending a lake of water over the floor, yellow and red fish flapping helplessly at my feet.
“Stop it, Robby!” I screamed, finding my voice again. “Stop it!”
He heaved the aquarium against the wall. It shattered, and sh
ards of glass flew into the air, sending kids ducking and diving for cover.
I spun away, trying to avoid the flying glass. When I turned back, the monster had raided someone’s backpack. He held a sandwich in a sandwich bag and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth. The plastic bag poked from his mouth as he chewed. He swallowed the sandwich and the bag.
Then, ignoring the screams and cries that filled the room, he let out another long, wet burp. Swung around. Shoved me out of the way. And took a running dive out the open window.
I tried to force my heartbeats to slow. I was gasping for air. I saw Liam at the back of the room. He was standing beside his desk, hugging himself, trembling.
I had been so wrong about him. But I didn’t have time to think about it.
I turned when I heard a voice at the classroom door. Ms. Foreman stood there in her jacket, her briefcase in hand. The real Ms. Foreman.
“Sorry I’m late, everyone,” she said. “Car trouble.”
She squinted at me. Her mouth dropped open when she saw that I was standing there in my underpants.
And then her eyes nearly flew out of her head. “Oh, good heavens! What happened here?”
A few minutes later, I was on the phone. “Mom, please hurry. Bring me jeans and a T-shirt. Can you get here fast?”
“Jordan, what happened to your clothes?”
“It’s a long story. I promise I’ll tell you everything when you get here.”
“But what are you wearing now?”
“Nothing! I mean, just my underpants. Mom—please—can I explain later? Ms. Foreman gave me her jacket to cover me up. But things are a little … weird.”
Yes. Things were weird at my school. For one thing, there were blue-uniformed cops everywhere you looked. And a line of kids outside Miss Lyons’s office. She’s the principal, and she wanted to talk to every kid in our class before we were allowed to go home. And every parent.
The parents waited outside Miss Lyons’s office, too. They were all shaking their heads in disbelief when they found out what had happened.
