by R. L. Stine
She patted my shoulder. “Sorry.” She stared at me while she chewed some more tortilla chips. “I have an idea, Bean.”
I frowned at her. “What kind of idea?”
“Why don’t you just go up to Monroe and ask him if he’s a monster?”
“Aaaaaagggh.” I let out a cry. “Great idea,” I said. “Great way to lose a friend forever. What if I ask him the question and he isn’t a monster? He’ll think I’m crazy.”
“Everyone already thinks you’re crazy,” Lissa said.
“Oh, wow. You’re going to bring up the swimming pool thing again?”
“Just saying.”
“What am I going to do?” I cried. I slammed my Coke can on the counter. “Last night, the monster in my dream pointed at me and growled, ‘You’re next. You’re next.’ What does that mean? Does some monster want to kill me? I … I think I’m really in danger, Lissa.”
Her expression turned serious. “Wish I could help you,” she said softly. Then her eyes grew wide.
I realized she wasn’t looking at me. She was staring over my shoulder.
Before I could turn around, she opened her mouth in a scream of horror.
I spun around. I stared at the kitchen doorway. No one there.
Lissa dropped off the kitchen stool. She pointed. “I … I saw it. It was there.”
I stared at the empty doorway. “What? You saw what?”
“Quick, Bean.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the hall. We looked both ways. No one there. I could hear the little kids dancing to their dance party game.
“Lissa, I don’t see anything.”
She trotted to the front door and checked the lock. “I saw it. The monster. It … it was here, Bean. It followed you.”
I swallowed hard. I suddenly felt cold all over.
“You saw it? Really?”
She nodded. Her whole body shuddered. “It was big and hairy. I mean, covered in dark fur. Like a gorilla or something. Only, its eyes were human. Red eyes. It looked ugly … ugly and mean.”
A thousand questions spun through my mind. “But how did it get in, Lissa? Where did it go?”
She shrugged. “It appeared and then it disappeared. But I saw it. I believe you now. And I believe it followed you here.”
“You mean … you finally think it’s real?”
She nodded. She squeezed my arm. “You didn’t make it up. It was real.” She pressed her back against the wall. I could see she was thinking hard. “Maybe it is Monroe. Monroe lives in this building. He knows I live here, too. Maybe he followed you.”
“Wh-what am I going to do?” I stammered.
“Follow him,” she answered.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Follow Monroe. Spy on him. Watch him when he thinks no one is watching. Because …”
“Because I have to prove he’s the monster?”
“Yes. You have to prove it. You have to see if you’re right about him.”
I nodded, thinking hard. “There’s only one problem with that,” I told her.
“Problem?”
“Yeah. What if I am right? What then?”
“Have you ever been to Lissa’s apartment?” I asked Monroe.
It was the next morning, and we were walking to school.
Harlan had already bombed up to us. He said he was going to give us both a break today. So he took both of our lunches. We watched helplessly as he ran off laughing like a maniac.
Sweet guy.
I’d been thinking about my plan to spy on Monroe and learn the truth about him. As we walked along Elm Street, I felt kind of jumpy. Excited. But not a good kind of excited. Just tense.
Monroe scratched his cheek. “No. Never been to her apartment. It’s on six, right?”
How did he know the floor Lissa lived on?
I nodded. “Yeah. It’s nice. It has a long hall with lots of rooms. Bigger than my apartment.” I squinted at him, trying to read his thoughts. “You never been there?”
“No. Lissa seems nice. But she never talks to me.”
We let a school bus rumble past. Then we crossed the street.
I remembered the first time I saw the monster. Running toward the school entrance. It was in a flash of bright sunlight. Yes. The sun was so bright, I had to blink. And when I could focus again, I saw the monster.
“Let’s cross the street,” I said. I tugged him by the arm.
He pulled back. “Why? We never walk on that side.”
“It’s sunnier,” I said. “I just feel like a little sun.”
If we walk in the bright sunlight, maybe you’ll turn furry again.
I pulled him across the street. The morning sun was still low in the sky, and it was blindingly bright.
I blinked a few times. Just the way I had the first time. I shut my eyes for a few seconds. And when I opened them …
… When I opened them, Monroe looked exactly the same. No fur. No monster.
I felt disappointed. And relieved. All at the same time. It made my stomach feel funny, like all churned up.
I don’t like spying on my friends. But what choice did I have?
You’re next. You’re next.
I couldn’t get that growled threat out of my ears. I heard it over and over. And each time, it gave me a chill.
In class, it was easy to keep an eye on Monroe. Because he sat at the desk right next to me.
We had quiet reading hour just before lunch. I was reading a book called The Call of the Wild. I like animal stories, and this was a great one about a dog.
Suddenly, I gasped when I heard Monroe let out a growl.
My book fell onto the desk. I turned, expecting him to be furry.
He grinned at me and rubbed his stomach. “Can you hear my stomach growling?” he whispered. “I’m so hungry.”
“Mine is growling, too,” I lied.
His stomach growled again. “Too bad Harlan stole our lunches,” he muttered. He went back to his book. I glanced at the cover. He was reading Frankenstein.
Later, I borrowed some money from Lissa and bought lunch for me and Monroe. I watched him eat his ham sandwich and bag of potato chips. He didn’t do anything unusual.
Some kids at the next table were having a burping contest. It made Monroe smile, but he didn’t join in. I never took my eyes off him. I looked for any sign. But he didn’t do anything the tiniest bit monsterish.
Lissa stepped up beside me in the hall after lunch. “How’s it going?” she whispered.
“Nothing yet,” I said.
“Keep watching him, Bean. Don’t give up. You have to know the truth, right?”
“Right.”
She grabbed my arm. “But be careful. Don’t let him know you’re spying on him.”
“No way,” I said.
What would he do if he knew?
I tried to be careful. Whenever Monroe glanced my way, I pretended to be watching something else. I was totally tense, but I tried to seem perfectly calm and normal.
“Are you enjoying the Frankenstein book?” I asked him.
“It’s kind of hard to read,” he said. “But I like monster stories.”
Really?
Not much of a clue. I mean, lots of people like monster stories. Including me.
The day dragged by without anything interesting happening. Until gym class late that afternoon.
Coach Waller had a bunch of us guys playing a basketball game at one end of the gym. It was shirts and skins, and I was happy to be on the skins team because it was steamy and hot in the gym.
Monroe played on the other team. He was a very aggressive player. He kept bumping and shouldering and even head-butting other players. I could see Waller watching him from the sidelines. Monroe was playing harder than anyone else.
He was a total ball hog. He kept driving to the basket, and never passed the ball to another teammate. He took shot after shot — and sank most of them.
I was surprised. I’d never thought of him as being a sports
dude.
Sweat matted his thick hair and poured down his forehead. His face was bright red, and he kept making grunting sounds as he ran up and down the court.
Is this a clue? Is he finally going to reveal himself?
“Whoa!” I missed a pass. It bounced off my chest because I had my eye on Monroe.
“Bean — are you a klutz or a super klutz?” a kid named Arnie shouted.
“Both,” I said. It was supposed to be a joke, but no one laughed.
I shoved my arms out to block Monroe, but he dribbled right past me as if I were invisible. Kids cheered as he dropped another basket.
Then, to my surprise, he walked right off the basketball floor. His chest was heaving up and down because he was breathing really hard. He had his eyes on the locker room door.
This is it, I told myself. I’m about to get my proof.
Yes, it was just a hunch. But it was a strong hunch. As I saw Monroe slump into the locker room, I knew he was about to turn into a monster and do something weird.
I tossed the ball to Arnie, gave the players a little wave, and trotted to the locker room. “Back in a minute,” I called to Coach Waller.
I grabbed the door handle and pulled the locker room door open just a crack. I didn’t want Monroe to know I was following him.
I peered inside. The air was cooler in there. The locker room was nearly dark. I could hear showers running in the back. I stepped inside and closed the door silently behind me. I didn’t see Monroe in the row of gym lockers.
The back of my neck began to tingle. A drop of sweat fell from my nose. I realized I was holding my breath. I stepped on tiptoe toward the back of the dressing room.
I stopped when I heard the shuffle of sneakers in the next row of lockers. I waited … waited …
And then I heard a scream. A high, shrill shriek of pain.
And I knew … I knew. The monster has attacked someone.
I took a deep breath and took off. I ran to the next aisle and stared down the row of lockers.
I knew I was about to see something ugly. Something horrifying.
But … no. It was a kid in my class. A short, skinny, red-haired guy named Victor. He stood hunched in front of an open locker, shaking his right hand. He turned when he saw me. “Bean?”
“I … heard a scream,” I stammered.
He nodded. He raised his hand. “I just slammed it in the locker. That was me screaming. It hurts. Man, it really hurts.”
I struggled to catch my breath. I stared at Victor’s hand. It was swelling up like a balloon. “You’d better show it to Coach Waller,” I said.
He nodded. He started toward the door.
“Have you seen Monroe?” I called after him.
He motioned with his head to the back.
I spotted Monroe at a sink in front of the shower room. He was splashing cold water on his face. He turned when I stepped close.
“My face started to burn,” he said, water running down the front of his shirt. “Guess I got overheated.” He squinted at me. “What are you doing here? Why’d you leave the game?”
“I … uh … was worried about you,” I said. “I saw you leave and I thought maybe you were sick.”
“Hey, thanks.” He splashed more water over his hair. “Thanks a lot, Bean. You’re a good friend.”
We walked back to the gym floor together. Monroe had this strange smile on his face. Like he was pleased with himself about something.
And as we joined the game, I found myself thinking:
Did I make a terrible mistake about Monroe?
Or is he behaving himself because he figured out I’m watching him?
Those are the questions I wanted to ask Lissa when I met up with her outside the school swimming pool before her team practice.
She kept swinging her swim bag, hitting me in the knees with it.
“Do you have to do that?” I asked.
She grinned. “Yes, I do.” She swung it again, and I dodged out of the way.
“Are you coming to my swim meet tomorrow?” she asked.
“Is there a meet tomorrow?” I said. “You’ve only told me about it twenty times.”
She hit me with the blue canvas bag again. “Are your underpants too tight? Is that why you’re in such a bad mood?”
“I don’t want to talk about my underpants with a girl,” I said. “I’m in a bad mood because I’ve been spying on Monroe all day, and it’s a total waste of time. I think maybe he guessed I’m spying on him.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But do you always have to be a quitter, Bean? You’ve only been spying one day. You’ve got to keep it up.”
I jumped away from her swim bag as it came around again. “Okay. So now I’m a loser and a quitter?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lissa said. “You’re going to make me late. Listen, have you thought about the school pet fair?”
“Yeah. A little,” I said.
Two girls from the swim team trotted past, hurrying to the pool. They both laughed when they saw me. I knew why. They were remembering me standing at the pool with my swimsuit down at my ankles.
I could feel myself blushing all over again.
“Well, for sure I’m not going to win the three-hundred-dollar prize,” Lissa said. “All I’ve got is my boring cat, Corky. But you’ve got a whole pet shop to choose from.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said. “I wanted to bring a mynah bird. But my dad has an aquarium with some betta fighting fish. He said they can’t lose. They are totally fierce and awesome to watch.”
“Cool,” Lissa said. “You’ll probably win.” She spun away and, still swinging the swim bag, headed to the pool. “Maybe winning the pet fair will put you in a better mood,” she called without looking back.
“Maybe,” I said.
Did I know then that the day of the pet fair was going to be the worst day of my life?
No. I didn’t have a clue.
I climbed the stairs to our apartment. I almost never take the elevator. It’s too slow. It creaks and groans as if it’s complaining about having to carry people.
Since I live on the fourth floor, it isn’t very far to go. Monroe doesn’t have to climb at all since he lives on the first floor of the building.
I wondered if he was home. I wondered if he was in his room, changing into a growling monster. I wondered if he liked to roar and thrash the air with his big paws and terrify his little brother and sister.
But what if they were monsters, too?
What if the whole Morton family were monsters?
“What if I’m going crazy?” I said to myself as I opened our apartment door.
“Talking to yourself?” Mom said, turning as I entered. “That’s the first sign.”
I jumped. I didn’t expect her to be home. She’s usually at her office, thinking about rockets all day.
“Oh, h-hi,” I stammered. “I didn’t think —”
She was arranging yellow and white flowers in a vase. “Aren’t these pretty? I saw them at the market, and I had to buy them. They smell nice, too.”
I dropped my backpack on the floor. I sniffed the air. Yes, they smelled sweet.
“How was your day?” Mom asked, working at the flowers.
“Not bad,” I said. And then I blurted out what was on my mind. “You know, I had another monster nightmare. And in the dream, the monster pointed at me and said, ‘You’re next. You’re next.’ I know it sounds crazy, but I think Monroe is a monster. And I think he’s dangerous. I think maybe he’s very dangerous. So I’ve been spying on him. You know. Trying to prove for sure that he’s a monster.”
It felt so good to finally get the words out. It just felt great to get the whole thing off my chest.
Mom turned to me. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Bean. This song is so loud in my ears, I didn’t hear a word you just said.”
She pulled the little white earphones from her ears. “Now, tell me again. What were you saying?”
“Well �
�”
The phone rang.
Mom started toward the kitchen. “I’d better get that. I’ve been expecting a call from Houston.”
I let out a long whoosh of air. I suddenly felt like a deflated balloon. I could hear Mom talking on the phone. She just kept saying yes, yes, yes. Who knows what that was about.
When you’re a rocket scientist, you get a lot of calls from Florida and from Houston and Washington. People are always calling and asking her advice.
Dad gets calls, too. It’s usually about sick pets. Or pets that died. Dad says he just sells pets, he doesn’t doctor them. But people call anyway.
I dragged my backpack into my room. I checked the desk to make sure there were no dead animals there. That’s what I thought about every time I walked into my room. Will I find another dead gerbil?
My next thought: Is the monster coming for me? Am I really NEXT?
I shivered. I wasn’t safe — not even in my own bedroom.
I walked to my bedroom window and pushed aside the curtains. The window looked down on the street.
Whoa. I could see Harlan down there. He was talking to two blond-haired girls. I couldn’t see their faces. Just the tops of their heads.
Harlan shoved one of them really hard, and she toppled onto the sidewalk. Her friend pulled her to her feet, and they both ran away.
Harlan acts like a monster all the time. I suddenly remembered what Lissa said to me. She said if I ever stood up to Harlan, my nightmares about being chased by a monster would stop.
That’s because I told her I thought Harlan was the monster in my dreams. But that was before Monroe moved in.
“Bean — can you do me a favor?” Mom shouted from the kitchen.
I turned away from the window and made my way down the hall. “What’s the favor?”
“Run down to the store on the corner and buy sour cream. You know your dad likes sour cream on his baked potato. And I completely forgot to buy it.”
“No problem,” I said.
She handed me a twenty-dollar bill. “Just get a small container. You and he are the only ones who eat it.”
I nodded and headed out the door. I tucked the money in my jeans pocket and started down the stairs. I could hear voices in the stairwell from one of the floors below.
