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Creature Teacher: The Final Exam

Page 7

by R. L. Stine


  There was only one more part of the test. Was there any way at all I could move myself up on the chart and save my life?

  Mrs. Maaargh rumbled to the front of the room. She clapped her huge baseball-mitt hands over her head. The room immediately grew silent.

  She grabbed a whole chicken off the food table and stuffed it into her mouth. Her chewing sounds reminded me of a garbage truck grinding up trash. Finally, she swallowed the chicken with a loud gulllllp.

  “I think we should all give a hand to Sophie!” she shouted, burping as she talked. “Sophie won the underground swim today!”

  Everyone obediently clapped.

  I saw Sophie at one of the girls’ tables. She stood up and pumped her hands above her head like a boxing champion. She had a big grin on her face.

  And why shouldn’t she? She was safe now. She probably moved to the top of Mrs. Maaargh’s chart.

  I started back to the table. But Mrs. Maaargh pointed at me and waved her finger to call me over. I had no choice. I slumped over to her.

  She had chicken grease smeared over her fat, flabby face. “Tommy, don’t fall in the quicksand pit tomorrow, okay?” she growled.

  My mouth dropped open. “Huh? Quicksand?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Don’t fall in, okay? All that gritty sand gets stuck in my teeth.”

  After breakfast the next morning, Uncle Felix, Mrs. Maaargh, and all the counselors led everyone to the High Cliffs and the quicksand pit below them.

  It was a long walk in the hot sun to the other side of the island. Then a steep climb up a sloping hill that led to the High Cliffs.

  No one spoke. No one whispered or laughed or made a sound.

  We all knew how serious this was. Especially me.

  The final part of the Final Exam. The last chance to decide who was going home a winner. And who was staying on the island — as dinner!

  I knew kids were watching me as we walked. I caught them staring. They looked away when I saw them. I knew what they were thinking. They were feeling sorry for Tommy the Loser. And they were also feeling glad that they weren’t me.

  Maybe I’ll surprise them, I told myself. Maybe I’ve been waiting for the final challenge to prove I’m a winner.

  Maybe.

  Sweat prickled the back of my neck. I slapped a mosquito off my arm.

  We climbed the grassy hill in silence. I saw Sophie at the head of the line, walking behind Mrs. Maaargh.

  Sophie knew she was a winner. Her name was now at the top of Mrs. Maaargh’s chart. But Sophie had the same tense, worried expression as the rest of us.

  Everyone knew the final part of the Final Exam would be dangerous and terrifying. And as I reached the top of the hill and saw the twin cliffs and the wide orange quicksand pit so far below, I knew this was about to be the most frightening moment of my life.

  The two dark-rock cliffs jutted out, facing each other. I’d say they were at least twenty feet apart.

  A wooden ladder had been placed between the two cliffs. Like a bridge connecting them.

  And down below … way down below … I could see the quicksand pit Mrs. Maaargh had warned about. Even from this high up, I could see it bubbling and tossing like a thick ocean.

  Seeing the ladder stretching between the cliffs, I had a pretty good idea of what we were supposed to do to pass the test. But Mrs. Maaargh stepped up to the cliff edge to explain.

  “This is the easiest test yet!” she exclaimed. Then she burst out laughing. “Well … maybe it isn’t as easy as it looks. But it will separate the winners from the loser.”

  She gazed at me as she said the word loser.

  “You get down on your hands and knees,” she continued. “And you climb across the ladder, one rung at a time. Take your time. Move across the ladder as slowly as you like.”

  A gust of wind made the ladder bounce. It didn’t look very sturdy to me.

  “Grip the rungs carefully,” Mrs. Maaargh instructed. “One slip — and you will plunge headfirst into the quicksand pit down below.”

  Sophie raised her hand and waved it hard to get Mrs. Maaargh’s attention. “If we fall into the pit,” Sophie said in a trembling voice, “is there someone down there to fish us out?”

  Mrs. Maaargh grinned at her. “Probably,” she answered. Then she laughed again. Her laugh sounded like deep stomach belches.

  Uncle Felix stepped forward to give us his usual pep talk. He was dressed in tennis whites, a white shirt, and shorts. And he swung a tennis racket as he talked.

  “The Final Exam is a wonderful chance to show how Camp Winner has turned you into a winner!” he shouted in his high, shrill voice. “Remember, everyone, a winner never falls — and a faller never wins! Think before you sink!”

  Maybe he expected everyone to applaud after that. But we all just stood there in silence. Most of us had our eyes on the slender ladder stretched between the cliffs.

  The sun beamed down. My hands were sweaty from the heat. What if they slipped off the ladder?

  Before I could think about it more, Mrs. Maaargh stepped forward and made the most frightening announcement of all.

  She had her bulging, tennis ball eyes on me as she started to talk. And the grin on her face told me she did not have good news for me.

  “We are going to go across the ladder in order this morning,” she boomed. She raised her Wait Watchers Chart in both hands. “We will begin with the camper at the bottom of the chart and go up.”

  My mouth suddenly went dry. It wasn’t hard to figure out what that meant. It meant I had to go first.

  “If anyone falls into the pit,” Mrs. Maaargh continued, “the test is over. That camper is the loser. No one else has to try.”

  Now everyone was definitely staring at me. The other kids all knew that if I fell, they’d be totally safe. They wouldn’t have to crawl over the pit. They could go back to camp and celebrate.

  I knew their eyes were all on me. It made me angry. Did everyone here really think I was a total loser?

  Mrs. Maaargh beckoned me forward with one black-taloned finger. I stepped to the edge of the cliff. “This looks too easy!” I said, loud enough so everyone could hear. “Don’t you have anything more challenging for a Final Exam?”

  I managed to say that without my voice trembling and giving me away. I felt good. Why should I let everyone see how totally terrified I was?

  I dropped onto my hands and knees. I crawled to the cliff edge.

  I peered down at the bubbling quicksand pit so far below. I’d never had trouble with heights before. But I sure did now!

  Sunlight flashed in my eyes. I suddenly felt dizzy. My legs were trembling so hard, I couldn’t make them crawl to the ladder.

  “Get going, dog,” Mrs. Maaargh growled.

  I took a deep breath and held it. But it didn’t help slow my racing heartbeats.

  My hands shaking, I leaned down and grabbed the first rung of the ladder. My hands were wet with sweat. I gripped the rung as tightly as I could and crawled forward a few inches.

  Then I reached out carefully and grabbed the second rung.

  Silence all around. I knew the campers were all watching with their fingers crossed. Somewhere a bird hooted in a faraway tree.

  I glanced back. Mrs. Maaargh wasn’t even watching. She had turned her back to talk to Uncle Felix.

  I reached for the third rung — but stopped when a hand gripped my ankle.

  “Wait —” Ricardo whispered.

  I gripped the third rung. My knee pushed into the first rung. I was already out over the side of the cliff. I swung my head around to Ricardo. “What do you want?”

  “The tenth rung is a fake,” he whispered. He glanced back to make sure Mrs. Maaargh didn’t see him.

  “What do you mean?” I demanded.

  “Don’t grab the tenth rung,” he warned. “If you grab the tenth one, it will break off — and you’ll fall into the quicksand.”

  “How — how do you know?” I stammered.

  �
��I heard two counselors talking after breakfast. They said Mrs. Maaargh made the tenth rung loose so it would break off.”

  I squinted at him. “You’re sure?”

  “I heard them,” he insisted. “They said the tenth rung.”

  Ricardo jumped back just in time. Mrs. Maaargh finished talking with Uncle Felix and turned to watch me on the ladder. Ricardo quickly backed away into the crowd of kids.

  I took another deep breath. My hands were dripping wet. But no way I could stop to wipe them off on my shirt or anything.

  I grabbed the fourth rung and slid my knees forward. I was out over the quicksand pit now. I knew I couldn’t back up. I had to keep going.

  And I had to remember … Don’t grab the tenth rung.

  “Ow.” The hard wooden rungs made my knees ache. The sun beat down on me. The sunlight made it hard to focus my eyes.

  I wrapped my hands around the fifth rung.

  Don’t grab the tenth one. Go right to the eleventh rung.

  Skip the tenth one. Skip the tenth one.

  A sharp pain tightened my back. I ignored it and grabbed the sixth rung.

  The wind gusts seemed to grow stronger as I climbed farther between the two cliffs. The ladder bounced beneath me.

  I grabbed the seventh rung. Pulled myself forward.

  I took another deep breath. I tried to swallow but my mouth was too dry.

  I waited for the wind to fade. Then I squeezed my hand around the eighth rung.

  It broke off with a loud craaaaaaack.

  My hands fluttered like birds as I fell forward, fell from the ladder. Plunged headfirst.

  Headfirst. Down … down … screaming all the way.

  My scream cut off as I did a hard belly flop into the quicksand. My face hit the sand first. It was burning hot!

  My body smacked the surface of the wet sand, and I sank instantly.

  I raised my hands and tried to slap the surface. But that didn’t help. The thick, wet sand rose up as if swallowing me. And sucked me down.

  I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. I struggled to kick my legs and push myself to the surface.

  As I struggled and kicked and squirmed and pulled, I thought about Ricardo.

  Dog-eat-dog. Eat or be eaten.

  Ricardo tricked me so he wouldn’t have to go across the ladder. He tricked me — and I fell for it.

  Kids like Ricardo came to this camp to compete and defeat everyone else. They came to win, win, win. And I just never caught on. I trusted him to the very last moment.

  A burst of anger made me thrust myself forward with my arms and legs. I kicked hard in the burning, thick sand — and gasped when my head poked up over the surface.

  I tilted my head back and sucked in air. I raised my arms over the pit and kicked again, rising higher.

  I heard a shout and saw Bert wading toward me. Bert to the rescue again. He grabbed my arm and pulled me up. Then he wrapped his arm around my waist and carried me out of the quicksand.

  I rubbed sand off my face with both hands. “Guess the Final Exam is over,” I said.

  Mrs. Maaargh stared down at me, drooling. “Don’t think of yourself as a loser, Tommy,” she said. “Think of yourself as a good meal.”

  Bert led me to the shower cabin. He forced me to take a very long shower. He reminded me that Mrs. Maaargh doesn’t like sand in her food.

  Standing under the shower, I tried to think. Could I come up with an escape plan? Was there any way I could save myself?

  The hot water poured down on me. I stood there thinking for a long time, maybe twenty minutes. No ideas came to me.

  Too late to try to contact my parents. Besides, I’d already tried that.

  No place on the island to escape to. No place to hide. I’d tried that, too.

  As Bert led me to my cabin, I sighed sadly. I knew I was doomed. The Final Exam was over, and I had failed. No way I could change my fate.

  “Get dressed,” Bert said. “We don’t want to keep Mrs. Maaargh waiting. She likes her lunch on time.” He patted my shoulder. “Sorry, kid. Really. What else can I say? Sorry.”

  He said he’d come back for me in a few minutes. I watched him walk down the hill.

  I stepped into the cabin to get ready. I couldn’t decide what to wear. What do you wear when you’re about to be a monster’s lunch?

  I pulled on a Camp Winner T-shirt and my gym shorts. I was tying my sneakers when Sophie and Ricardo burst into the cabin.

  “I didn’t trick you. I swear!” Ricardo cried. “I heard those counselors say it was the tenth rung. Really. They probably knew I was listening. So they played a trick on me.”

  I squinted at him. I didn’t want to believe him. I wanted to stay angry.

  “He’s telling the truth,” Sophie insisted. “I know he wanted to help you. We both like you, Tommy. We wouldn’t want —”

  “The counselors tricked us,” Ricardo said. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  I sighed. “It’s too late anyway,” I murmured. “What difference does it make now?”

  “You’re a hero!” Sophie declared. “Really. You are. You saved the rest of us.”

  “Some hero,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “A hero sandwich is more like it.”

  “Everyone thinks you’re a winner, Tommy,” Ricardo said. “Just think of that. Everyone thinks you’re a hero.”

  I opened my mouth to reply. But Bert knocked on the cabin door and stepped inside. His eyes were sad. But he blocked the door in case I tried to run away.

  “You ready?” he asked softly.

  “I … don’t know how to answer that,” I said.

  I gave Sophie and Ricardo a fast wave. Then I followed Bert out the door.

  As we walked down the path to the dining hall, I thought about breaking free and making a run for it.

  Bert watched me and stayed close, as if he could read my mind.

  A few minutes later, we walked into the back of the dining hall. Bert led me through the kitchen.

  We walked past the stoves and the sinks. And then … I let out a sharp cry as I saw a huge silver serving platter, big enough for me to fit in tight and snug.

  And now, here I was on my back. In just gym shorts. I was squeezed into the silver platter. My arms folded over my chest.

  I gazed up at Mrs. Maaargh. She leaned over the table and drooled on me, wet yellow drool. She grinned and licked her liver lips with her fat tongue.

  “I plan to eat your arms first,” she said. “You know. Get the bony parts out of the way.”

  Was I supposed to say something? I crossed my arms tighter over my chest to stop from shaking.

  “Don’t worry, Tommy,” she said. “I’ll eat your head last.”

  Huh? Was that supposed to make me feel better? Was that good news?

  She poked my ribs with a fat finger. “Mmmmmmm.” She made disgusting lip-smacking sounds.

  She leaned over me, drool running over her lower lip. She grabbed my right arm and pulled it toward her jagged teeth.

  Nothing can save me now, I realized. I can’t believe this is how I end up — as a monster’s lunch.

  I shut my eyes. I couldn’t bear to watch.

  I gritted my teeth and waited for the incredible pain.

  Waited.

  Then I opened my eyes in time to see her roll out her enormous, fat tongue. She brought my arm to her lips. And she ran her tongue up and down my arm. She LICKED me, a long, slow lick. Her tongue was rough and dry and felt like sandpaper on my skin.

  LLLLLIIIIIIICCK.

  Then her pointed teeth poked out as she opened her mouth wide to bite.

  But she didn’t bite down. Instead, a choked gasp escaped her throat.

  Her eyes bulged. Her face darkened to purple.

  “AAAAAAAAAACK.” She stuck her tongue way out, and a hideous cry burst from her open mouth.

  She dropped my arm. She fell back with a violent jerk of her whole body.

  She started to gag and choke. Her huge body quivered and
shook.

  She gagged and gagged, wiping her tongue against her lips.

  She turned back to me in horror. “My tongue! My whole mouth! It’s BURNING! BURNING! What did you do? What did you DO?!”

  I sat up in the platter.

  She squeezed her throat and choked some more.

  “It’s my Bombs Away! hot sauce,” I said. “I rubbed it all over me. It explodes in your mouth. Do you like it?”

  She frantically waved her arms above her head and shrieked in pain. “Burning! BURNING! My mouth is ON FIRE! HELP ME! I’m DYING! I’m ON FIRE!”

  Holding her throat, her tongue flapping the air, she spun away from the table — and ran out of the dining hall screaming at the top of her lungs.

  I jumped out of the platter and lowered myself to the floor. I walked to the window and peered out. I could see Mrs. Maaargh down below. Running and screaming.

  I could hear her through the open window. “I’m DYING! I’m BURNING! BURNING! Help me! I’m DYING!”

  Pressing my face to the window glass, I watched her rocket across the beach. She didn’t stop at the water. She plunged into the lake and kept running. And then she was swimming. Paddling furiously, swimming away.

  Did she plan to swim across the whole lake? I watched her slap the water, kicking and splashing, sending up high waves, until she vanished in the distance.

  Gone. Mrs. Maaargh was gone.

  I stared out at the water for a long time. She didn’t swim back.

  A smile crossed my face. My parents were right, I thought. A person can’t live without hot sauce.

  “Party! Party! Par-tee!”

  Kids chanted as music rocked the camp. We danced. We celebrated. We swam. We pulled all the cake and cookies and ice cream from the camp kitchen and had the biggest island party blowout in history.

  Uncle Felix locked himself in his office. There was no way he could stop us.

  Five more days of camp. Five more days of celebration and partying. No Mrs. Maaargh. No more dog-eat-dog competitions. We were all friends now.

  I climbed up on a table in the dining hall and ripped Mrs. Maaargh’s chart into tiny shreds. Then I tossed the shreds up like confetti. Everyone cheered and danced and sang.

 

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