by R. L. Stine
“This is kind of cool!” Evan declared. Having his revenge on Conan had put him in a better mood. “Let’s go see if we can have some more fun!”
“Yaaaay!” Kermit cried, racing to keep up with Evan.
Evan ducked his head to keep from banging it on a low tree branch. He took several big steps toward the street.
“Oh!” He stopped and cried out when he felt himself step on something. He heard a cracking, then a crunch beneath his enormous sneaker.
He turned to see Kermit raise both hands to his face. “Oh, no!” Kermit shrieked. “You squashed Andy! Evan—you squashed Andy!”
19
Evan gasped and jerked up his foot.
Kermit let out a high-pitched laugh. “Gotcha, Evan!”
Andy came running over from the driveway. “That wasn’t funny!” she scolded Kermit. “That was a really dumb joke, Kermit. You scared Evan to death.”
“I know!” Kermit laughed, very pleased with himself.
Evan let out a sigh of relief. He bent down to see what he had stepped on. Conan’s skateboard. It lay crushed and splintered, flat on the grass.
He turned angrily to Kermit. “No more stupid jokes,” he thundered. “Or I’ll put you up in the tree with Conan.”
“Okay. Okay,” Kermit mumbled. “You think you’re tough just because you’re so big.”
Evan held up a pointer finger. “Careful, Kermit,” he warned. “I could knock you over with one finger.”
“Conan is still yelling for help back there,” Andy reported.
Evan smiled. “Let’s see who’s hanging out at the playground. Maybe we can surprise some other kids.”
Evan crossed the street, taking long, heavy strides. He felt as if he were walking on stilts. This is kind of cool, he told himself. I’m the biggest person in the world!
He passed by the neighbors’ basketball hoop, which stood on a pole at the curb. Hey—I’m at least six feet taller than the basket! he realized.
“Hey—wait up!” Andy called breathlessly. “Don’t walk so fast!”
“I can’t help it!” Evan called back.
A small blue car rolled by, then squealed to a stop. Evan could see a woman and two kids in the car. They were all staring out at him.
A little girl on a bike turned the corner. She started pedaling toward Evan. He saw the look of surprise on her face when she spotted him.
She braked her bike hard, nearly toppling over the handlebars. Then she wheeled around and sped out of sight.
Evan laughed.
Another car screeched to a halt.
As he started to cross another street, Evan turned to see who was in the car. He didn’t watch where he was going.
A loud crunch made him stop.
With a gasp, he peered down—and saw that he had stepped on a car.
“Oh, no!” Evan cried. His sneaker had crushed in the top of the car—as if it were made of tinfoil.
Evan backed away in horror. Was someone inside?
He dropped to his knees to stare in the window. “Thank goodness!” he cried when he saw that the car was empty.
“Wow!” Kermit exclaimed, walking around and around the smashed-in car. “You must weigh at least a ton, Evan!”
Andy stepped up beside Evan, who remained on his knees. “Be careful,” she warned. “You’ve got to watch every step.”
Evan nodded in agreement. “At least I think I’ve stopped growing,” he called down to her.
As they reached the playground, Evan saw several kids shouting and pointing excitedly at a tall maple tree on the corner.
What’s going on? Evan wondered.
As he lumbered closer, he saw the problem. Their yellow kite had become stuck up in the tree.
“Hey—no problem!” Evan boomed.
The kids screamed and cried out in surprise as Evan stepped up to them. They all backed away, their faces tight with fear.
Evan reached up easily and tugged the kite loose from the tree limb. Then he leaned down and gently handed it to the nearest kid.
“Hey, thanks!” A grin spread across the kid’s freckled face.
The other kids all cheered. Evan took a bow.
Andy laughed. “You need a red cape and a pair of blue tights,” she shouted up to him. “It’s Super Evan!”
“Super Evan!” the kids shouted as they ran off happily with their kite.
Evan leaned down to talk to Andy. “If I stay big like this, do you think I really could get a job as a superhero?”
“I don’t think it pays very well,” Kermit chimed in. “In the comic books, you never see those guys getting paid.”
They crossed the street and headed toward the playground. Evan glanced at the redbrick school building on the corner. It’s so small, he thought.
He suddenly realized that he stood at least two stories tall. If I walk over there, I can see into the second-floor classrooms, he thought.
How will I go to school? Evan wondered. I can’t squeeze through the door. I won’t fit in Mrs. McGrady’s room anymore.
Feeling a wave of sadness roll over him, he turned away from the school building. He heard cheers and shouts. A softball game was underway on the practice diamond.
Evan recognized Billy Denver and Brian Johnson and some of the other kids. He always had to beg to play softball with them. They never wanted Evan on their team because he wasn’t a very good hitter.
He strolled over the grass to the practice diamond. Andy and Kermit ran behind him, struggling to keep up.
Brian was starting to pitch the ball. But he stopped short when he spotted Evan. The ball dropped from his hand and dribbled to the ground.
Players on both teams gasped and shouted.
Evan strode up to Brian on the pitcher’s mound. Brian’s eyes bulged in fear as Evan drew near. Brian raised his hands to shield himself. “Don’t hurt me!” he pleaded.
“Hey—it’s Evan!” Billy exclaimed. “Look, guys! It’s Evan!”
Kids from both teams gathered around, murmuring excitedly, nervously.
Brian slowly lowered his hands and stared up at the giant Evan. “Wow! It really is you! Evan—how did you do that?”
“What happened to you?” another kid cried.
“He’s been working out!” Andy told them.
The kids laughed. Very tense laughter.
Andy always has a joke for everything, Evan thought.
“Uh… want to play?” Brian asked. “You can be on my team.”
“No. My team!” Billy insisted.
“No way! He’s on my team!” Brian shouted. “We’re one man short, remember?”
“Don’t say short around Evan!” Andy joked.
Everyone laughed again.
Billy and Brian continued to fight over which team would get Evan. Evan stood back and enjoyed the argument. He picked up a wooden bat. It had always seemed so heavy before. Now it felt as light as a pencil.
Billy won the argument. “You can bat now, Evan,” he said, grinning up at him.
“How can I pitch to him? He’s a giant!” Brian complained.
“Pitch it really high,” Evan suggested.
“Evan, do your mom and dad know you grew like this?” Billy asked, walking to home plate beside Evan.
Evan swallowed hard. He hadn’t thought about his parents. They’d be getting home from work soon. They weren’t going to be happy about this. How would he break the news to them? he wondered.
And then he thought: I won’t have to break the news to them. They’ll see for themselves what has happened!
He stepped up to the plate and swung the bat onto his shoulder. “Wish we had a bigger bat,” he muttered. It was a little larger than a drinking straw.
“Get a hit!” Billy shouted from behind the backstop.
“Get a hit, Evan!” several other players called.
Brian’s first pitch sailed past Evan’s ankles.
“Higher!” Evan called out to him. “You’ll have to throw it higher.”
<
br /> “I’m trying!” Brian grumbled. He pulled the softball back and tossed it again.
This time, the pitch flew past Evan’s knees.
“It’s hard to throw that high,” Brian complained. “This isn’t fair.”
“Strike him out, Brian!” the first baseman cried. “You can do it. Evan always strikes out!”
It’s true, Evan thought unhappily. I do usually strike out.
He gripped the little bat tighter, poising it over his shoulder. He suddenly wondered if being so big would make a difference.
Maybe he’d just strike out bigger!
Brian’s next pitch sailed higher. Evan swung hard. The bat hit the softball with a deafening thwack—and cracked in two.
The ball sailed up, up, up. Off the playground. Over the school. And out of sight, somewhere in the next block.
Cheers and cries of amazement rang out over the diamond.
Evan watched the ball fly out of sight. Then he leaped joyfully in the air and began running the bases.
The longest home run in the history of the world!
It took only four steps between bases. He had just rounded second base when he heard the sirens.
Evan turned his eyes to the street in time to see two fire trucks squeal around the corner. The trucks pulled right up onto the playground grass and came roaring toward the softball diamond, sirens blaring.
Evan stopped at third base.
The sirens cut off as the two fire engines skidded to a halt along the first base line.
Evan’s mouth dropped open as Conan Barber leaped out of the first truck. Several black-uniformed firefighters dropped to the ground behind Conan.
“There he is!” Conan cried, pointing furiously at Evan. “That’s him! Get him!”
20
Grim-faced firefighters began hoisting heavy firehoses off the trucks. Others moved toward Evan, hatchets clutched menacingly in their hands.
“That’s him!” Conan shrieked. “He’s the one who put me in the tree and wrecked my parents’ fence!”
“Huh?” Still standing on third base, Evan froze in shock.
Was this really happening?
The playground rang out with shouts of surprise. But the voices were drowned out by more sirens.
Evan saw flashing red lights. And then two black-and-white police cars roared over the grass, screeching up behind the fire engines.
A man and woman came running behind the police cars. “That’s the one!” they called breathlessly, pointing at Evan. “That’s the one who crushed the car. We saw him do it!”
The firefighters were busily connecting the hoses to hydrants at the curb. Blue-uniformed police swarmed on to the field. The kids on the two softball teams huddled together on the pitcher’s mound. They all seemed dazed and frightened.
“He tried to kill me!” Conan was shouting to a woman police officer. “That giant put me in a tree and left me there!”
“He crushed a car!” a woman screamed.
Evan hadn’t moved from third base. He gazed past the fire engines to Andy and Kermit. They stood near the backstop. Kermit had the dumb, toothy grin on his face.
Andy had her hands cupped around her mouth. She was shouting something to Evan. But he couldn’t hear her over the wail of sirens and the excited shouts and cries of everyone in the playground.
Some of the police and fire officers huddled together, talking rapidly. They kept glancing up at Evan as they talked.
What are they going to do to me? Evan wondered, frozen in fear.
Should I run? Should I try to explain?
More people came hurrying across the playground. As soon as they spotted Evan, their expressions turned to surprise and amazement.
They’re all staring at me, Evan realized. They’re pointing at me as if I’m some kind of freak.
I am some kind of freak! he admitted to himself.
Firefighters formed a line, holding their hatchets waist-high. Others readied the firehoses, aiming them up at Evan’s chest.
Evan heard more sirens. More police cars rolled on to the playground.
A young police officer with wavy red hair and a red mustache stepped up to Evan. “What—is—your—name?” he shouted, speaking each word slowly, as if maybe Evan didn’t speak English.
“Uh… Evan. Evan Ross,” Evan called down.
“Do you come from another planet?” the officer shouted.
“Huh?” Evan couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing.
He heard some of the softball players laughing, too.
“I live in Atlanta,” he shouted down to the officer. “Around the corner. On Brookridge Drive.”
Several officers and firefighters held their ears. Evan’s voice came out louder than he had planned.
Evan took a step toward them.
The firefighters raised a firehose. Several others readied their hatchets.
“He’s dangerous!” Evan heard Conan shout. “Watch out! He’s really dangerous!”
That got everyone shouting and screaming.
The playground was filling with people. Neighborhood people. Kids and their parents. Cars stopped and people climbed out to see why the crowd had gathered.
More police cars bumped over the grass. Their wailing sirens added to the deafening noise, the shouts and cries, the frightened murmurs.
The noise. The staring eyes. The pointed fingers.
It all started to make Evan dizzy.
He felt his legs tremble. His forehead throbbed.
The police had formed a line. They started to circle Evan.
As they closed in, Evan felt himself explode. “I can’t take any more!” he screamed, raising his fists. “Stop it! Stop it! All of you! Get away! Leave me alone! I mean it!”
Silence as the sirens cut off. The voices hushed.
And then Evan heard the red-haired police officer shout to the others: “He’s turned violent. We have to bring him down!”
21
Evan didn’t have time to be frightened.
The firehoses chugged and gurgled—then shot out thick streams of water.
Evan ducked low. Dove forward. Tried to get away from the roaring water.
The force of the water stream ripped the ground to his side.
Evan dodged to the other side.
Wow! That’s powerful! he thought, horrified. The water is strong enough to knock me over!
Frightened shouts rose up over the roar of the water.
Evan plunged through the line of dark-uniformed police officers—and kept running. “Don’t shoot!” he screamed. “Don’t shoot me! I’m not from another planet! I’m just a boy!”
He didn’t know if they could hear him or not.
He dodged past several startled onlookers. A long hook-and-ladder stood in his path.
He stopped. Glanced back.
Firefighters were turning the hoses. The powerful spray arced high. Water crashed to the ground just behind Evan, loud as thunder.
Kids and parents were running in all directions, frantic, frightened expressions locked on their faces.
Evan took a deep breath. Bent his knees. And leaped over the fire truck in his path.
He heard shouts of surprise behind him. He vaulted high over the truck. Landed hard on the other side. Stumbled. Caught his balance.
Then, ducking low, his arms stretched out in front of him, Evan ran.
His long legs carried him away quickly. As he reached the street, a low tree branch popped up as if from nowhere.
Evan dipped his head just in time.
Leaves scratched over his forehead, but he kept running.
Got to watch out for tree branches, he warned himself. Got to remember that I’m two stories tall.
Breathing hard, he plunged across the street. The late afternoon sun was lowering behind the trees. The shadows were longer now, and darker. Evan’s shadow seemed a mile long as it stretched out in front of him.
He heard the rise and fall of shrill sirens behind him.
Heard angry shouts. Heard the thud of footsteps, people running after him.
Where can I hide? he asked himself. Where will I be safe?
Home?
No. That’s the first place the police will look.
Where? Where?
It was so hard to think clearly. They were close behind him, he knew. Chasing him. Eager to bring him down.
If only he could stop somewhere, close his eyes, shut them all out, and think. Then maybe he could come up with a plan.
But he knew he had to keep running.
His head throbbed. His chest ached.
His long legs were taking him quickly away from the playground. But he still felt awkward, with his sneakers so far below him and his head so high in the trees.
I’ll hide out at Kermit’s house, he thought.
Then he quickly decided that was a bad idea, too.
“I can’t get in Kermit’s house!” he cried out loud. “I’m too big!”
And then he had a truly frightening thought: “I can’t fit in any house!”
Where will I sleep? he wondered. And then: Will they let me sleep?
Can’t the police see I’m just a boy? Evan asked himself bitterly. He turned the corner and ran past his house. The lights were all off. The door closed. No car in the driveway.
His parents hadn’t come home from work.
He kept running. Running across yards. Ducking low. Trying to hide behind shrubs and tall hedges.
Can’t they see I’m a boy? Not a creature from another planet?
Why do they think I’m so dangerous?
It’s all Conan’s fault, Evan decided. Conan got the firefighters and police all crazy with his wild stories.
His wild, true stories.
And now where can I run? Where can I hide?
The answer came to him as he neared Kermit’s house. Two doors down, a lot had been cleared. And an enormous stack of lumber had been piled at the back. Someone was about to build a house on the lot.
Breathing hard, sweat pouring down his broad forehead, Evan turned and ran across the lot. He ducked behind the tall pile of lumber. And stopped.
He dropped to his knees and leaned against the lumber stack, struggling to catch his breath. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his T-shirt.
