by R. L. Stine
13
Scott shot out his hands and plowed right into Big Bruno. The manager stumbled backward, trying to keep his balance.
Glen quickly scooped Mac up from the floor. “Got him!” he yelled to Scott. He stuffed Mac into his jacket pocket. Then the two boys ran.
As they raced out of the arcade, they could hear Big Bruno hit the floor with a huge thud.
“Guess we can’t go back there again!” Scott shouted as they dashed to the bus stop.
“That’s for sure,” Glen replied, panting.
Scott couldn’t stop trembling on the bus ride home. He didn’t feel much like talking, and Glen didn’t either.
“What are we going to do with Mac now?” Scott finally asked when they were safely back in his room.
“What can we do?” Glen shrugged. “I think we’re stuck with him.”
“Well, from now on he’s staying in his aquarium,” Scott said firmly. “And we’ll definitely have to make a cover for it.”
Glen reached into his pocket and pulled Mac out.
“What happened to him?” Glen cried. “He looks horrible!”
He really does, Scott thought. Mac was all shriveled up. And wrinkled—like a prune. He had shrunk to the size of a tiny bug.
Scott stared at his face. His eyes were sunken in. And his lips were cracked and curled back so that his jagged teeth jutted out. He resembled a dry sponge with baby fangs.
His little chest heaved up and down. And he was wheezing. Gasping for breath. Scott couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. He took him from Glen and gently slid him inside his aquarium.
Then, the instant Mac hit the water, it happened.
Mac started to change.
Into something no one—not even the kids who lived on Fear Street—would believe.
14
“Nooooo!” Glen shouted.
Scott practically knocked the aquarium over as he leaped back. “No way!” he gasped.
Mac was transforming.
He was growing darker. Because the hair all over his body was growing longer and thicker.
His arms started to bulge, getting bigger and stronger. His legs throbbed as they grew, too.
Even the tiny little wings on Mac’s back began to expand—looking more and more like the wings on the monkeys from The Wizard of Oz.
When Mac finally stopped growing, he was bigger than a hamster. Much bigger. Now he was about the size of a rabbit.
“What if he keeps growing?” Glen asked. “What if he grows as big as a real monkey? Or even a gorilla?”
“That’s not going to happen,” Scott said, trying to convince himself as well as Glen. “But I’ll tell you one thing. I sure don’t want him running around loose in my room.”
“I don’t blame you,” Glen replied.
Scott pulled a huge dictionary off his bookshelf and placed it down on top of the aquarium. He slid it over slightly to leave a sliver of space for fresh air to enter. “That should hold him,” he declared,
“Uh-oh,” Glen said.
“What?” Scott shot a frightened glance at Mac.
“Look what time it is!” Glen said. “If I don’t get home right now, my mother will have a fit.” Glen headed for the door.
Scott followed him down the stairs. As they reached the landing, they spotted Kelly. She was twirling around the living room in a poofy pink dress, pretending to be a model or something.
“My mother’s making her a dress for that stupid school dance she’s going to,” Scott whispered to Glen.
That’s all his mother had been talking about lately. Kelly’s first dance. Kelly’s first dance. His mom made a big deal about first anythings, like Scott’s first home run. But that was okay, Scott thought. That was important.
“Like anybody is gonna dance with her,” Glen interrupted his thoughts.
“Yeah, really.”
“I’ll see you later, Mrs. Adams,” Glen called to Scott’s mom as he headed out the door.
“Be careful going home.” She didn’t glance up. She was struggling to pin the bottom of Kelly’s dress while Kelly swished around. “Stay still, Kelly,” she ordered.
Kelly stopped swishing—and started twirling. She twirled her long blond hair into a bun on top of her head. “How do you think I should wear my hair?” she asked. “Like this, Mom? Or like this?” she asked, twirling it into yet another style.
“I think you should wear it down. You have such beautiful hair. It would be a shame not to show it off,” Mom said.
“Oh, puke,” Scott muttered as he headed back through the living room.
“Shut up,” Kelly snapped back. “You immature little twerp!”
Immature. Scott hated it more than anything when Kelly called him immature. She was only a year older than he was. One lousy year. But she was always treating him like she was a grown-up and he was a baby.
“Witch,” he screamed at her.
“Scott,” his mother scolded. “Enough!” She stuck one more pin in Kelly’s dress. “Okay. I’m finished. Go upstairs and change,” she told Kelly.
“You always take her side,” Scott complained to his mother.
For a minute she looked as though she was going to explode. But she didn’t. “Look,” she said calmly. “I know I’ve been paying lots of attention to Kelly lately. But this dance is really important to her. And if she doesn’t have the dress she saw in the mall, she’s going to make everybody’s life miserable.”
That was the truth. Kelly had dragged their mother to the mall a million times, trying to find the perfect dress. And they had finally found it. But their mom refused to buy it. She said it cost practically as much as a new car. So she decided to try to make it.
The timer on the stove in the kitchen went off. “Oh, shoot,” his mother said as she jumped up off the couch. “I almost forgot about dinner.” She headed for the kitchen.
Scott charged up the stairs, taking them two at a time—before his mom had a chance to ask him to set the table or something.
“Kelly thinks she’s so cool, ‘cause she’s going to some stupid dance. In some stupid dress,” Scott muttered as he entered his room.
He walked over to his dresser mirror and started imitating Kelly, using his best bratty-sounding Kelly voice. “Which way should I wear my hair?” Scott tried twirling the hair on top of his head the same way Kelly had. “This way?” He made a face at himself in the mirror. “Or this way?”
He would have gone on complaining, but something in the mirror caught his eye. Something that reminded him that he had bigger things to worry about than Kelly.
The dictionary on top of Mac’s aquarium was gone.
15
Scott’s eyes darted around the room.
There it was.
The dictionary.
Pages open and rumpled. On the floor.
Scott picked it up and placed it back on top of the aquarium. “I don’t believe this,” he mumbled to himself.
Then he reached for the thickest volume of his encyclopedia and stacked it on top of the dictionary. He made the small opening for air even tinier.
Mac will have to be a magician to get out now, Scott thought.
Scott walked backward to his bed. He didn’t want to take his eyes off the aqua ape.
He propped himself up against the headboard and stared at Mac. When his mom called him for dinner, he told her he wasn’t feeling well. Upset stomach, he said. There was no way he was leaving this room—not until he was sure Mac couldn’t escape.
Scott decided to stay awake all night and check Mac’s tank every fifteen minutes. Even if he had to use toothpicks to keep his eyelids open to do it.
Every time Scott got up and peered into the tank, Mac waved at him. The aqua ape looked harmless. But Scott wasn’t taking any chances.
He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was 11:45. At midnight Scott would get up to check on Mac again. But he was growing sleepy. Very sleepy.
He didn’t feel really safe all alone w
ith the aqua ape. He thought about all the trouble Mac had caused at the mall. That was pretty weird. Then he remembered how Mac had suddenly sprouted all that hair—and had grown twice as big, right before his eyes. That was really weird.
When Scott checked the clock again, it was well past midnight. I fell asleep, Scott thought as he shot up in bed. But he didn’t go check on Mac. He didn’t even glance at the aquarium.
Scott threw on his clothes and sneaked out of the house. He was headed for Fear Lake. He didn’t want to go. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself. It was as if the lake were somehow calling to him, somehow controlling his every move, his every thought.
He walked through the woods as if he were in a trance. It was dark. And silent. Totally silent.
This is too scary, he thought. No one should be out here. In the middle of the night. Alone.
He tried to turn back. But every path he took seemed totally unfamiliar to him. And all of them led to the same place. All of them led to Fear Lake.
“You have the power to create life!” The words echoed through the darkness as Scott found himself moving closer and closer to the lake.
Was he imagining the voice? Was it simply echoing in his own mind? Scott couldn’t be certain. But he was sure of one thing—he did not have the power to turn back. Something was forcing him to continue onward.
Then, suddenly, without warning, the entire sky lit up with lightning. And the sound of thunder roared above him.
“You have the power to create life!” There was the voice again. Only this time it was much louder. And seemed to be coming from . . . the lake!
Scott whirled. To head back. But the invisible force turned him around. And propelled him forward. He felt as if someone—or something—were pushing him from behind.
“Stop!” Scott screamed. “Stop!” But the louder he yelled the faster he was shoved toward the lake.
Faster. Faster. He was sure he was going to be pushed right into the dark water.
But just as he reached the water’s edge, the force stopped pushing.
Scott stood still. Trying to catch his breath. That’s when he noticed the water in Fear Lake. It was bubbling and churning—the same way the water had bubbled and churned in Mac’s bowl.
And then it happened.
A huge monster rose from the inky water directly in front of Scott.
Scott thought about closing his eyes. Closing his eyes tightly so he wouldn’t have to look at the monster. But he was afraid that if he did that the monster would grab him and pull him down. Down into the evil water.
So he forced himself to stare at the creature. And his heart nearly burst in his chest—the monster looked just like Mac! It was Mac. Only worse.
It was dark and hairy and huge, with giant wings on its back. And its teeth were pointy—as sharp as sharks’ teeth.
Scott could hear screams in the distance. They sounded familiar. Scott hoped it was someone coming to rescue him.
Mac reached down and grabbed Scott around the neck with one huge, slimy, hairy paw. He yanked Scott six feet off the ground.
Scott tried to struggle free. But it was hopeless. This monster-Mac was stronger than twelve weight lifters.
Scott opened his mouth to yell, but the monster swatted his other huge paw over Scott’s lips, nearly knocking his head off.
The screams in the distance grew louder.
Closer.
But if someone was out there—trying to save him—it was too late.
Because Scott knew there was no way anyone could help.
There was no way he would ever escape Mac.
16
Mac suddenly released his grip.
Scott crashed to the ground. Hard.
His eyes popped wide open.
It took him a minute to realize that he wasn’t lying in the mud by the side of Fear Lake. He was lying on the floor. In his bedroom. He had tossed and turned himself right out of the bed.
Just a dream, thought Scott. Just a horrible dream.
Scott closed his eyes. But they flew wide open when he heard the scream.
A high scream.
Kelly’s screams—the screams he had heard echoing in his dream. Only he wasn’t dreaming anymore.
Scott saw his parents race past his door. “What’s going on?” he called.
“I don’t know,” his mother answered, without stopping.
Scott scrambled to his feet. But just as he was about to dash after her, he spotted something terrifying. And he wished he were still dreaming.
There on the floor lay the dictionary and the encyclopedia.
Please, oh please, let Mac be in there, Scott prayed as he cautiously approached the aquarium.
But Mac was gone.
Scott rushed out of his room and down the hall. As he reached the door to Kelly’s bedroom, he half expected to see Mac standing six feet tall, looming over her.
Scott didn’t see Mac. But he was pretty sure Mac was responsible for what he did see.
Kelly stood at the foot of her bed. Her long blond hair was twisted together in front of her face and tied in a million little knots. Scott could barely even see the tip of her nose sticking out.
“How on earth did this happen?” Scott’s father asked, trying to untie some of the hair in front of her face.
“I don’t know!” Kelly answered hysterically. “I just woke up like this!”
Scott knew he had to find Mac before anyone else did. He glanced around Kelly’s room, checking the floor, the curtains, the desk. Then he spotted Mac crawling out from under Kelly’s pillow.
Scott slid past his parents and sat down on Kelly’s bed, right in front of Mac. To hide him.
“Oooooouch!” Kelly screamed. “You’re hurting me!”
“I hate to tell you this, Kel,” their mother said apologetically. “I think we’re going to have to cut it.”
“Noooooo!” Kelly screamed and burst into tears.
Scott felt like screaming, too—when he saw Mac clap his hands with joy. Then the little ape leaped off the bed and darted across the floor—in plain view.
“Maybe you should go down in the kitchen and put some peanut butter in Kelly’s hair,” Scott blurted out. He had to get everyone out of there—fast.
Kelly cried harder and his mother frowned at him. “Really,” Scott said. “Glen got some gum in his hair once and that’s how his mom got it out.” No one bothered to answer.
Mac stood between Kelly’s bare feet, grinning up at Scott.
“I promise you, it’ll grow back,” their mother said, trying to comfort Kelly.
Scott picked up one of the stuffed animals on Kelly’s bed and hurled it at Mac. He missed. Mac waved at him.
“Leave my stuff alone!” Kelly wailed.
Scott’s father glanced at him with angry, narrowed eyes.
“I can’t even begin to imagine how this happened,” Scott’s father began, trying to break the tension. “What were you doing? Having a wrestling match in your sleep?” he asked. He was trying to make Kelly smile. It wasn’t working.
Scott gasped as Mac strutted toward his father’s pajama leg.
“What?” Scott’s father asked.
“Nothing,” Scott lied. He watched Mac crawl closer to his dad. “I just can’t believe that Kelly’s got to get her hair cut off, that’s all.”
“Drop dead!” Kelly screamed. Then she shoved Scott off the bed.
This was his chance.
His only chance.
Scott fell to the floor. He sprawled out at his father’s feet and stretched his hand out to grab Mac.
His eyes met Mac’s for a moment.
Scott swore Mac winked at him. Then he scampered to the wall and slithered right down one of the large, open air vents.
Oh, no, Scott thought. Mac is running loose in the house—and I don’t know what he’ll do next.
He’s out of control!
17
“He’s running loose in my house!” Scott told Glen for the hundr
edth time. “We’ve got to get him out of there!”
Scott turned his bicycle into his driveway and hurried into the garage. Glen was right behind him.
All day at school Scott had asked himself the same question over and over: What is Mac doing now?
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell your mom about Mac,” Glen said, parking his bike.
“Do you know what kind of trouble I’d be in if she knew about Mac?”
“Yeah.” Glen nodded. “But what if she saw Mac running around the house today? Or what if he did something even worse? Just think how really mad she’ll be. What are you going to say then?”
“We’re going to play dumb,” he told Glen. “If something bad has happened, let me do all the talking.”
“Let’s start looking for Mac in the den,” Scott suggested. “That’s where the air vents in Kelly’s room lead to.”
Scott turned the doorknob to the den. He hesitated for a moment. Okay, he thought. Now I’m ready—for anything.
But he wasn’t ready for what he saw when he opened the door. Kelly stood in the den. Her hair was cut shorter than he’d ever seen it. It was almost as short as his hair.
“Doesn’t Kelly’s hair look nice?” his mother asked in a tone of voice that told Scott the only acceptable answer was yes.
But Scott couldn’t speak.
Glen picked up the slack. “Nice hairdo, Kelly.”
“Yeah. Nice hairdo, Kel,” Scott repeated.
That seemed to satisfy Scott’s mother. “See,” she said to Kelly. “Didn’t I tell you?”
Then she turned her attention back to Scott. “Kelly and I are going out for a few minutes,” she told him. “We have to go to the fabric store to pick up a little more material for Kelly’s dress. We shouldn’t be too long. Please behave while I’m gone.” She always said that last part before she left the house.
“Okay,” Scott answered. He couldn’t wait for his mother to leave. He needed time to search for Mac.
When Scott’s mother opened the door, she hesitated. “It looks like it’s going to rain,” she said. “Maybe we shouldn’t go now.”
