by R. L. Stine
Sunspots flashed before my eyelids. They faded quickly. Clouds covered the sun again.
I opened my eyes — and gasped. What was that creature running toward the school?
It was covered in brown fur. And even from this distance, I could see long, pointed teeth curling from its open mouth.
A monster! A real one.
My breath caught in my throat. I froze and stared as it lumbered across the school yard toward the entrance to the school.
Is that Monroe? Can it be Monroe?
The sun poured down again. I blinked. The monster had vanished.
No one there. No monster. No Monroe. I saw two boys riding their bikes around the side of the building. Other kids made their way up the front walk. A girl dropped her backpack and papers flew across the grass.
“I’m going totally crazy,” I said out loud.
I decided it had to be the bright sunlight in my eyes. It made me imagine I saw a monster.
Monroe isn’t a monster. What’s WRONG with me?
My dad loves animals. He grew up on a farm where they had chickens and goats and sheep. He’s always telling us stories about how he got in trouble trying to hide the animals in his bedroom at night when he was little.
I guess that’s why he manages a pet shop. It’s a cool little store at the mall called Pets & More Pets. It’s mostly birds and fish. But he has hamsters and gerbils and guinea pigs, too, and sometimes some kittens.
On Saturday, Dad gave me a ride to the mall. Monroe and I planned to meet there and hang out. And I wanted to check out the store. I needed to choose an animal to bring to the school pet fair.
There would be $300 prizes for the strangest pets — and the most talented. I thought maybe I’d bring one of Dad’s mynah birds. Or maybe some weirdo kind of fish.
How lucky was I to have a whole pet shop to choose from!
I always have to laugh when I ride with Dad. He drives a little Ford Focus, and he’s so tall, he has to fold himself up to sit behind the wheel. His knees come up to the steering wheel and his head bumps the car roof. Mom says he needs a bigger car. But Dad says he’s totally comfortable.
We drove past the school and made a left turn on Main Street. “How’s school going?” Dad asked.
“Okay,” I said.
He waited for me to say more, but I didn’t.
“Too bad about the swim team thing,” Dad said, eyes straight ahead on the road.
“Yeah,” I said. “Too bad. But Coach Waller says I can try out again later.”
That’s not happening.
I could feel myself blushing, just thinking about standing there with my swimsuit down.
“So you have a new friend? This guy Monroe?” Dad said, signaling his turn into the mall.
“Yeah,” I said. “He’s a good guy. We’re … a lot alike, I guess.”
Again, I pictured the dark-furred monster loping toward the school in the bright sunlight. I couldn’t get the picture out of my mind.
It had to be my imagination running wild again. I wish I would stop seeing monsters everywhere.
Dad parked in his reserved spot, and we walked into the mall. It was already crowded with Saturday morning shoppers. Dad took out his keys and unlocked the pet-shop door. A tall, red macaw watched us from the front window. It started to squawk, as if saying hello.
I told Dad I’d meet him later and hurried off to find Monroe. We’d made a plan to meet in front of the bakery called The Doughnut Hole. But I didn’t see him there.
Something bumped me hard from behind. A jolt of fear ran down my body. But it was just a woman trying to carry packages and push a baby stroller. She apologized three or four times and moved on.
I gazed across the aisle and saw Lissa. She was walking with her mom, coming out of a dress store. “Hey!” I called to her, and she came jogging over. “Lissa, what’s up?”
She made a face. “My cousin is getting married, and Mom dragged me here to find a dress to wear. Everything she picks out is, like, for a five-year-old. I said, ‘Why can’t I just get a new pair of jeans?’”
Lissa opened her mouth in a growl. “AAAAAGGGH. I hate shopping with her.”
Mrs. Gardener waved for Lissa to come back into the store. “I’m coming!” Lissa shouted. She turned to me. “What are you doing here?”
“Meeting Monroe,” I said. I glanced over to The Doughnut Hole. He still wasn’t there.
I leaned closer to Lissa. “Can I tell you something? Something I saw?”
She squinted at me. “Let me guess. You saw another monster?”
I nodded. “Yes. I did.”
She stared at me. “You’re serious?”
“Lissa, I saw this big, furry creature. Really. Running across the school yard. I … I don’t think I imagined it. I saw it so clearly. It had piles of dark fur and long yellow fangs.”
Lissa squinted at me. “You’re serious?” she repeated.
“Of course I’m serious.” I didn’t mean to sound so breathless. But I wanted her to believe me. “Monroe was running ahead of me. Then the sun came out and got in my eyes. And I saw a monster, furry, with teeth and —”
“Calm down, Bean.” Lissa grabbed my shoulders. “Okay. You saw a monster. Deal with it.”
“Huh? Deal with it?”
“Deal with it.”
I didn’t really know what she meant. We stared at each other for a long moment. “Want to hang out with Monroe and me?” I said finally.
“How can I?” She glanced across the aisle at her mother, impatiently tapping her foot in front of the clothing store. “Got to go. If you see any monsters, don’t scream for me — okay?”
“Ha-ha,” I said. “Is your middle name Lame? You are so not funny.”
I saw Monroe walking toward the doughnut shop. I waved and ran over to him. He had a big bag of tortilla chips in one hand and was stuffing his face with them.
“One of my hungry days,” he said. “My mom says it’s probably a growth spurt.”
“A growth spurt?”
He nodded, chewing loudly. “Yeah, you know. When you suddenly shoot up an inch or two?”
I sighed. “That never happened to me.” I pictured the furry monster running in sunlight. Was that one of Monroe’s growth spurts?
Stop being stupid, Bean.
We walked around for an hour or so. We bought soft pretzels with mustard, and then we bought cinnamon buns. We had a good time kidding around, joking about Harlan and other kids at school.
Suddenly, Monroe stopped and rubbed his stomach. “You hear that? My stomach is growling like an angry bear.”
“And that means …”
“It means I’m starving. Come on, dude. Over here.” He pulled me into The Burger Balloon. It’s a huge hamburger place with red-and-blue balloons floating at the ceiling and balloons bobbing on the walls and over the booths.
We moved down the long aisle, searching for a table. I waved to Lissa and her mom. They had a booth near the window.
We sat down on the other side of the restaurant. A tall waitress in a red-and-blue uniform took our order. Monroe ordered two cheeseburgers and two orders of fries. He really was hungry.
Across from us, a mother raised a big cup, giving her baby a milkshake through a straw. Two teenagers held hands across their table, waiting for their food to arrive.
“Why is it taking so long?” Monroe said, glancing around. He rubbed his stomach. “Hear that?”
I actually did hear it. His stomach growled so loud, it sounded like a lion’s roar.
“Whoa.” I stared at him. “Weird.”
His face turned red. His stomach growled again. He tapped his hands on the table. “I am way hungry.”
The waitress brought the food for the two teenagers. As she set down the tray, the aroma of the burgers floated over to us.
Monroe jumped to his feet.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Bathroom,” he said. “Be right back.”
I watched hi
m stomp to the back of the restaurant. Two kids from my school sat down in a booth against the wall. I called to them, but they couldn’t hear me over the voices and clatter and loud music.
I suddenly felt pretty hungry myself. I glanced around for our waitress.
I sat up straight when I heard a shrill scream. A scream from the kitchen.
“Help! A MONSTER! Somebody — help!”
I spun around and stared at the back. The double kitchen doors had small, round windows, but I couldn’t see into the kitchen.
Did I hear right? Did the screaming woman say there was a monster?
“Help! Monster! Help!” The frightened screams again.
“See!” I wanted to shout to Lissa across the restaurant, but she and her mom had already left.
The restaurant grew silent, except for the blaring music. Some people jumped up. A few hurried toward the kitchen. A baby started to cry.
I leaped to my feet just as Monroe came walking back. He had his hands in his jeans pockets and walked slowly, calmly.
“Bean, what’s up?” he asked. “I thought I heard screams. Did you hear them?”
I didn’t answer. I was staring hard. Staring at the chunk of raw hamburger on Monroe’s chin.
Monroe slid into the booth. “Still no food? Where is it?” he asked.
I stared hard at him. Two minutes ago, he said he was going to the bathroom. A few seconds later, the cook started screaming about a monster in the kitchen.
I worked up my courage. Took a deep breath. “Uh … Monroe …” I pointed to his chin. “What is that on your chin?”
Did you turn into a monster and grab raw hamburger meat in the kitchen?
Monroe reached up and tugged the chunk off his face. He examined it. “My bubblegum!” he said. He laughed. “I wondered where it went!” He popped it into his mouth and started to chew.
Was it bubblegum? Or raw hamburger?
Three dark-uniformed police officers came running into the restaurant. They raced into the kitchen with their hands on their holsters.
Staring at Monroe, I thought: The monster you’re looking for might be sitting right here with me.
I shuddered.
I instantly felt bad for having that thought. I mean, Monroe was my new friend. That was no way to think about a friend.
Besides, I had no proof. I didn’t know if the screaming woman was serious about seeing a monster. No one in the restaurant knew what to believe, either.
The kitchen doors were open wide. I saw a woman in a white apron and chef’s hat. She was surrounded by people and the police listening to her talk. She waved her hands wildly in the air as she told her story.
The police officers left, shaking their heads. The restaurant grew calm again. That was it. No proof. What if I was wrong? I decided not to tell anyone — not even Lissa — till I had definite proof about Monroe.
Our cheeseburgers finally arrived. Monroe wolfed down both of his while I was just starting on mine. Then he gobbled up two orders of fries. He asked if he could have some of my fries. He said his stomach was still growling.
He finished my fries and burped so hard, it knocked over his Coke. He grinned. “How about dessert?”
“No way,” I said. I checked the time on my phone. “I have to get back to my dad.”
Monroe burped again. His burps were long and raw. They sounded more like vomiting than burping. “Can I come with you?”
“Yeah. Sure.” I led the way through the mall to Dad’s pet shop. The macaw wasn’t in the front window. He’d been replaced by three fuzzy gray kittens. They were rolling around, having a wrestling match. A good crowd gathered to watch.
I opened the door for Monroe, and we stepped into the store. I waved to Dad. He was behind the front counter, handing a large green bag of dog kibble to a woman. She wrapped it in her arms and walked past Monroe and me, out of the store.
“This is my friend Monroe,” I told Dad. Dad ducked out from behind the counter and came over to us, wiping his hands on the legs of his khakis.
Monroe had his back turned. He was staring intently at a large glass cage. I saw several gerbils scrabbling around through the layer of shredded newspaper at the bottom.
“Hi, Monroe,” Dad said.
Monroe nodded. He kept his eyes on the little brown gerbils.
Dad lifted the glass lid and pulled out a gerbil. He let the gerbil climb over his hand. “Too many of you little guys,” he muttered.
Monroe smiled at Dad. “Yeah. You sure have a bunch of them,” he said.
“They’re climbing all over each other.” Dad shook his head. “I really should put them in a larger cage. They just multiply too fast.”
“They’re cute,” Monroe said, eyeing the gerbil in Dad’s hand.
Dad set the gerbil down gently on the shredded newspaper on the cage bottom. “One is cute,” he said. “Thirty? Not cute.” He lowered the lid over the cage.
A mynah bird whistled on its perch against the wall.
“Murray hates it when he doesn’t get all the attention,” Dad said. He walked over and petted the bird’s beak with one finger. The mynah made a cooing sound. “Hey, did you two have lunch?” Dad asked.
“Yeah. We ate at The Burger Balloon,” I said.
“Rafael will be here to take over,” Dad said. “Then we can go home.” He turned to Monroe. “Would you like a ride?”
Monroe tossed back his long hair. “Yeah. Sure. Thanks a lot.”
Dad motioned to the rear of the store. “Bean, come to the supply room for a sec. Help me move some big seed bags.” He disappeared into the back.
“Look around,” I told Monroe. “I’ll be right back.”
“No problem,” he said.
I turned and started to jog to the supply room. I was nearly there when I turned back — and uttered a hoarse cry.
A creature. A big, fur-covered creature … it stood in the aisle.
At first, I thought it was a gorilla. But it stood tall like a human, and I could see the long yellow fangs poking down from its black lips. And its bloodred eyes. And I realized …
I realized it was the monster. The same ugly monster I’d seen running to school.
I froze in shock. In total horror.
And I watched it lift the gerbil cage lid with a fat, furry paw. It pulled out two gerbils and raised them high.
It held them by their tails. I watched them swinging together upside down in its grasp.
And then, the creature lowered the two gerbils into its open mouth and noisily chewed them up.
I felt sick. My stomach heaved. I pressed my hand over my mouth to keep my lunch down.
I spun away from the monster and stumbled into the supply room. “Dad? Dad?” My voice burst out high and shrill.
He had a huge bag of birdseed slung over his shoulder. He was carrying it to a pile of seed bags against the wall.
“Dad — come quick!”
He squinted at me. “What’s the problem? A customer?”
“N-no,” I stammered. “It’s … it’s …”
He lowered the bag to the floor, then followed me, wiping his hands again.
“Dad. Look —” I pointed to the front of the store.
No one there.
No monster. No Monroe. The store was empty.
Dad crinkled up his face. “Bean, what’s up? What are you showing me?”
My mouth hung open. My heart was doing flip-flops in my chest.
“A … monster,” I choked out in a whisper.
Dad groaned. “Oh, Bean. Not another imaginary monster. Is that why you dragged me out here?”
“No, I —” I took a breath. “It wasn’t imaginary. And it ate two gerbils.”
He walked over to the glass cage and peered inside. “They look fine to me.”
“Dad, do you know how many gerbils were in the cage? I mean, did you keep count?”
Dad scrunched up his face, thinking. “No. Actually, I didn’t keep count. I don’t know how many are in ther
e. Maybe thirty, I guess.”
“Dad, I saw it. I —”
“Where’s your friend Monroe?” Dad asked. “Maybe he saw the monster, too.”
“Over here.” I heard Monroe shout.
I stepped to the next aisle and saw him in front of the mynah bird. “I didn’t know they could talk,” Monroe said. “Murray and I have been having a great conversation — haven’t we, Murray?”
“Loser,” the bird chirped. “Loser.”
Dad laughed. “I taught him to say that. He knows a lot of words.”
“Monroe, did you see anyone come into the store?” I demanded breathlessly.
He brushed his hair off his forehead. “No. No one.”
“Are you sure?” My voice cracked. “Didn’t you see something at the gerbil cage? Something standing over the cage?”
Monroe shook his head. “No. I had my back turned. I was talking to the bird the whole time you were gone.”
“Loser,” Murray chimed in. He obviously liked that word.
“Didn’t you hear anything?” I cried.
Monroe shook his head again.
Dad put a hand on my shoulder. “Calm down, Bean.”
“What’s the problem?” Monroe asked.
“Bean has a monster problem,” Dad told him. “He has monsters on the brain.”
“Dad, that’s not fair,” I snapped. I studied Monroe. Monroe is lying. He has to be lying.
Murray the mynah bobbed his head up and down. “Happy New Year!” he declared.
Dad and Monroe burst out laughing. “Who taught him that?” Dad said. “Not me.”
I didn’t laugh. I could still see that gorilla-size monster sliding the two gerbils into his mouth. Why wouldn’t Dad believe me? I wanted to scream. Aren’t your parents supposed to believe you?
I really wanted Monroe to be my friend. But the monster seemed to appear wherever Monroe went. The school … the hamburger restaurant … the pet shop.
Was I really supposed to believe that Monroe wasn’t a monster?
But that didn’t make sense at all. He seemed like a totally normal guy. Why would a totally normal guy keep turning into a monster?
I kept thinking about this all the way home. My brain just kept turning it over and over. It was a mystery, a mystery I had to solve. I couldn’t think about anything else.
