The Ooze

by R. L. Stine

  “Get your coat, Michelle,” Dad said. “Al, we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

  I sighed.

  Well, maybe going to a restaurant would at least help me get my mind off the ooze. After all, eating was one thing I still knew how to do.

  “I’ll be right there,” I said. “I left my coat in my room.”

  “Al,” Dad called after me, “It’s the Science Bowl day after tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, Dad,” I said wearily.

  “Do you know how Michelle won her Science Bowls?” Dad asked. “By working hard. By making sacrifices.”

  Michelle came back with her coat and stood next to Dad. Smirking at me. She was loving every second of this.

  “Maybe you should stay home,” Dad continued. “You will have the house to yourself—the perfect environment for a good study session.”

  “But I have to eat, don’t I?” I asked.

  “You can heat something up in the microwave,” Mom said.

  “But, Mom . . . ” I stopped and shook my head. Nothing I said would make them change their minds. I could see that.

  “Have a good time,” I muttered as they trooped out the door.

  I flopped down on the couch. Now what was I supposed to do? It was clear Mom and Dad weren’t going to help me.

  Chester strolled into the living room. He jumped up on my lap and started to purr. He liked me a lot more now that he was stupid.

  I scratched him under the chin. “What are we going to do? Huh, Chester? I guess you don’t know, either.”

  Tubby came barreling into the room and jumped up on the sofa next to me. “I know you haven’t got a clue, Tub-man.”

  I sighed and closed my eyes. I pictured my brain filled with orange slime. “Ewwwww!” I cried out. Chester jumped off my lap. Tubby just thumped his tail.

  I have to stop the ooze. I can’t just sit here all night and let myself get dumber and dumber.

  I know! I leaped up from the couch. I’ll read the manual that came with the chemistry set. Maybe it would have some answers.

  I really didn’t want to go back in the basement—at least not alone. So I made Tubby come with me. I didn’t even glance at the cooler. I just grabbed the manual out of the box and ran back upstairs.

  I raced to my room and slammed the door behind me. Then I sat down at my desk and turned on my reading lamp. Tubby plopped down at my feet.

  You can do this, I told myself. I opened the manual to the first page.

  “Oh, no!” I groaned. The words were so hard. “Compounds. Elements. Neutralize.” How was I supposed to understand big words like that?

  Miss Scott would say to look them up in the dictionary. She was always making us look up words.

  I pulled my dictionary off the shelf and flipped to the words beginning with the letter C.

  I ran my finger down each page. “Com,” I muttered. “Com-p. Com-p-oun-d.”

  Found it. “Composed of or resulting from union of separate elements, ingredients, or parts.”

  “What does that mean?” I wailed. Okay, okay, don’t give up, I told myself. Start with a smaller word.

  I flipped to the words beginning with the letter P. “Parts,” I mumbled. “Parts, parts, parts.”

  Here it is. “One of the often indefinite or unequal subdivisions . . . ”

  I slammed the dictionary shut and pounded my head on my desk.

  “This is hopeless!” I shouted. “I’m stupid. I’m just too stupid.”

  Then I had a horrible thought.

  How dumb would I be tomorrow?

  10

  The next morning I didn’t have to wonder why I felt so weird. I knew what was wrong. I knew I was dumber. But that was about all I knew.

  If I took everything slowly—and didn’t say much—I figured I could make it through the day without doing anything too stupid.

  I managed to put on jeans and a shirt and my socks. Now came the hard part. My shoes.

  I picked up one shoe, flipped it upside down, and studied it. Then I studied my feet. I found a match!

  I slipped my shoe on. It felt comfortable.

  I didn’t even have to think about the other shoe. I stuck it on the other foot and I was set.

  You are doing good, I told myself. Very good.

  Now I had to brush my teeth and comb my hair. I headed into the bathroom.

  I just needed three things—a comb, a toothbrush, and toothpaste. Simple, right?

  Well, sort of. It didn’t take too long to wash the toothpaste out of my hair.

  I rinsed the toothpaste off my comb, put some on my toothbrush, and brushed my teeth.

  I didn’t bother eating breakfast. I wanted some extra time—in case I got lost on the way to school.

  Mom handed me the plastic container with my lunch in it as I headed past her.

  “Your dad and I talked about you and the chemistry set last night,” she said.

  Great, I thought. I have enough to deal with today without a lecture from Mom.

  “It was irresponsible of you to use that set without the safety lesson,” she told me. “But we know how hard you’ve been working lately to prepare for the Science Bowl. So we have decided to let you off this time.”

  Whew! That wasn’t bad at all.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I called. Then I headed out the front door. Concentrating on each step I took, I managed to reach the school before the first bell.

  “Hey, Brains!” someone yelled.

  I turned and spotted Eric leaning against the big oak tree in front of school. “Oooooh,” I moaned. I had forgotten about Eric.

  “You’re lucky I didn’t find you after school yesterday,” he growled.

  “Yeah,” I muttered, and kept walking.

  Eric circled around me and blocked my way. He shoved a piece of paper into my hands.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “My math homework,” he said. “It’s due this afternoon.”

  “Do you want me to help you with it?” I asked.

  “Noooo,” Eric crooned. “I want you to do it. And I want it done by lunch!” Then he strutted up the school steps.

  I stared down at the paper.

  “And do yourself a favor, Sterner,” he called back to me.

  “What?”

  “Do it right,” he snarled. “No funny stuff like yesterday. This is your last chance!”

  I glanced down at the paper again. I felt my head start to hurt.

  Numbers. Lots of them. With math you have to expect that.

  But the paper also had tons of strange little symbols on it. They looked familiar. But none of them made any sense to me.

  I had to find Colin right away. He knew what was going on. He would help me.

  I ran up the front steps, through the double doors, and down the hall. If I reached Miss Scott’s room before the final bell rang, I could explain everything to Colin. Then he would do Eric’s homework for me! I knew he would!

  “Ready for tomorrow?” someone called. Alix trotted up beside me with a big grin on her face.

  “Tomorrow?” I asked. “What’s tomorrow?”

  “As if you didn’t know,” she teased. “I bet you have been studying for the Science Bowl nonstop. Admit it, Al. You don’t want everyone around here to say your sister is smarter than you are.”

  “I guess not,” I mumbled. “I guess not.”

  The bell rang as soon as we walked through the door. Miss Scott started the class immediately.

  No time to talk to Colin.

  Now what was I going to do?

  Eric was expecting his math homework at lunch. And I wouldn’t be able to talk to Colin before then.

  I guess I’ll have to try it by myself, I thought. I stared down at the assignment. Studying it as hard as I could.

  What did that little cross mean? And what was that line with the dot above and below it?

  I could feel Eric’s hot breath on the back of my neck. I’ll never figure this out. Never. He’s going to kill me.
>
  The hours until lunch passed so quickly—I could hardly believe it when the bell rang. “I’ll be waiting right outside the door for my homework, Brains!” Eric growled.

  I carefully returned my books to my backpack. I gathered all my pens together and put a rubber band around them. I organized my pencils, then I brushed the pink fuzz off my big eraser.

  How long would Eric wait for me? Would he give up and go to lunch? Or would he guard the door until I got there?

  “Al?” Miss Scott asked. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  I glanced around the room. All the other kids were gone. “Not especially,” I said. “Do you know where the sponge is? I want to wash the top of my desk.”

  “Later, Al,” Miss Scott said. “Go to lunch now, even if you aren’t hungry. It’s an order. Go to lunch.”

  When I stood up, my legs started to tremble. But I had no choice. I had to walk out that door.

  “Hand it over!” Eric barked the second I stepped into the hall.

  “I didn’t . . . ” I mumbled. “I couldn’t.”

  “Wrong answer, Alvin.” Before I could say another word, he lunged at me.

  He grabbed the back of my shirt, but I jerked free. I took off toward the cafeteria. When I reached the double doors, I spun right and ran down another hall.

  A group of fifth graders swarmed down the stairs. I pushed my way into the crowd, taking the stairs two and three at a time.

  “Hey, use the other stairs!” one of the kids shouted.

  “Don’t you know this is the down staircase?” another kid yelled. “What are you, a moron?”

  I didn’t bother to answer.

  I plowed through those kids all the way to the next floor.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Eric stood at the bottom of the stairway, trying to fight his way up.

  “I’m coming for you, Sterner!” he shouted.

  I bolted down the hall until I came to another staircase. It was the up staircase, but I ran down it as fast as I could. Before anybody could stop me, I raced straight out of the school.

  I didn’t stop running until I reached home. Mom and Dad were both at work. Michelle was still in school.

  What am I going to do? I thought. What am I going to do? I have to figure out something.

  But I can’t, I realized. I just can’t. I couldn’t even do a simple math problem anymore. How could I figure out what to do about the ooze—a much bigger problem. Much bigger.

  There was no way I could.

  I was just too dumb.

  And getting dumber every second.

  11

  “Al! Wake up!” Dad called. “It’s Science Bowl day!”

  I didn’t want to wake up. I didn’t want to go to school. And I definitely didn’t want to be in the Science Bowl.

  I rolled onto my stomach and buried my head under my pillow.

  I heard Dad open my door. “Al, get moving. Do you know what time it is?”

  I opened my eyes and stared at the alarm clock. The little hand was on the seven and the big hand was on the two.

  But what did that mean?

  I couldn’t remember how to tell time.

  I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and stared at the clock again. I still had no idea what it said. How could I forget something I learned back in kindergarten? I was stupider than ever!

  Dad walked over and sat down on the bed next to me. “Better step on it, Al. You need to be sharp if you expect to shine at the Science Bowl this afternoon!”

  “But, Dad, I really don’t feel . . . ” I began.

  But he wasn’t listening. “You need to have a good breakfast. That’s very important. And you need to find a few minutes before the Science Bowl to give yourself a mental pep talk,” Dad instructed.

  “Mmm-hmm,” I mumbled.

  “I know you’ll do great. Just like your sister!” Dad clapped me on the back and left the room.

  I thought I was doing great when I was able to get dressed, brush my teeth, and comb my hair with no mistakes. But I knew it would take a lot more than that to please Dad.

  I shuffled into the kitchen and plopped down in my chair.

  Michelle grinned her horrible grin at me. “Ready for the big day?” she chirped.

  I grunted. What could I say?

  My mom set a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon down in front of me. “Protein is good brain food,” she said.

  I knew I needed a lot more than protein to get through the Science Bowl—without the whole school laughing at me. I needed a miracle.

  “Let me quiz you,” Michelle suggested. She picked up my Science Teasers book.

  “You mind if I eat first?” I grumbled.

  “I’m trying to help you build up your confidence.” Michelle pouted. “It’s how I won all the Science Bowls I was ever in.”

  Michelle thumbed through the book. “We’ll start with an easy one. Here’s an astronomy question. What was Galileo’s earth-shaking discovery?”

  I had no idea.

  I shoveled a huge forkful of scrambled egg into my mouth, hoping I would come up with an answer before I swallowed.

  I didn’t.

  “Come on, Al,” Dad urged. “Just give her the answer.”

  “I’m hungry,” I complained. “I don’t want to be quizzed now.”

  “I was only trying to help,” Michelle whined.

  Mom ruffled my hair. I hate that. It makes me feel like such a baby. “He’s probably nervous. It’s his first Science Bowl, after all.”

  “I’ll give you a hint,” Dad said. “It has to do with what you are to me.”

  I spooned some jelly on my toast and took a huge bite. Think, I told myself with each chew. Think, think, think. What was I to Dad? His kid. What could that have to do with Galileo?

  “Now I’ll give you a hint,” Michelle volunteered. “It doesn’t have to do with what I am to Dad.”

  Michelle’s hint only made me more confused. Why wouldn’t they leave me alone?

  “You can do it, son,” Dad said.

  I tried to smile at him. But I had no idea what the answer was. Galileo. Galileo. It sounded like the name of one of those Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

  “The sun sure is bright today,” Michelle said. “I love the sun. Don’t you, Al?”

  I drank my whole glass of orange juice without taking a breath. But when I set my glass down, Mom, Dad, and Michelle were staring at me. Waiting for my answer.

  Michelle shook her head in disgust and shoved Science Teasers back over to me. “Galileo’s earth-shaking discovery was that the earth revolves around the sun.” She said each word slowly and clearly.

  I pretended not to hear her. I pretended to study Science Teasers so my family would lay off. But I could only understand a couple of words on every page.

  “You want to make Mom and Dad proud, don’t you?” Michelle asked. She never gives up. “And don’t forget Mr. Gosling. You want him to be proud, too, don’t you?”

  Mr. Gosling was my science teacher. I felt my head start to throb. What Michelle said made me think of something. Something important. But what?

  Mr. Gosling, I thought. Something about Mr. Gosling.

  What do I know about him? Not much. He’s smart. I know that, I thought.

  That’s it. He is smart. He isn’t getting stupider and stupider. If I show the ooze to him, maybe he can help me!

  I finished the rest of my breakfast as fast as I could. I stuck my plate and orange juice glass in the dishwasher, but I stuck my spoon in my pocket.

  I spotted the plastic container Mom kept her coupons in on the counter. Perfect. When no one was looking, I emptied the coupons into a drawer and stuck the container under my shirt.

  “Be right back,” I announced. “I left my notebook in the basement.”

  The cooler was still under the table, just where I left it. I opened the lid. Only a crack. I couldn’t let the ooze splash me—the way it did the day before. I couldn’t afford to get any stupider.

  I peeked into the
cooler. Whoa! The ooze had grown. And it had more veins. Lots more throbbing veins.

  My heart pounded as I stared at the disgusting glob.

  I started to jab the spoon in—but the ooze jerked away from it. It moved from the spoon—before the spoon even touched it.

  I slammed down the lid and jumped back in fear.

  This stuff was disgusting and creepy. Totally creepy.

  My hands started to tremble as I inched toward the cooler again. Don’t think about it, I told myself. Just scoop some up. All you need is a little bit on the spoon.

  I opened the lid again, shoved the spoon deep into the quivering mass, and dropped a blob of it into the container.

  I clamped the lid on and made sure it was sealed tightly. Then I smuggled the ooze back upstairs and slid it into my backpack.

  “Wish me luck,” I said as I slipped the backpack over my shoulder.

  “Good luck.” Michelle laughed. “You’re really going to need it!”

  Mom gave me a hug and my plastic lunch container with a sandwich inside. “Good luck, Al!”

  Dad shook my hand. “We’ll be in the audience cheering you on!” he said.

  I nodded. And as I walked to school, I tried not to think about my parents . . . watching me in horror . . . as I gave one wrong answer after another in the Science Bowl.

  * * *

  Alix and Colin were waiting for me on the school steps. “You ready for the big day, Al?” Alix asked.

  “I studied for it,” I said. That was true. And it was better than telling Alix she now had an idiot for a Science Bowl partner.

  “I’m betting on both of you!” Colin told us as we headed toward Miss Scott’s class.

  Eric was already there when we walked through the door. And he did not look happy.

  I carefully slid my backpack under my seat and pretended not to notice him.

  “I flunked the math homework,” Eric told me. “You know what that means?”

  I shrugged.

  He poked me in the back. “That means I had to stay after school again. And you know what that means?”

  I shook my head. Why was he asking me so many questions?

  He poked me in the back again. “That means I had to miss baseball practice again. No one makes me miss practice and gets away with it, Sterner! No one.” Poke. Poke. Poke.