by R. L. Stine
Aunt Benna and I scrambled out of the shack, stretching and yawning. Even though the sun was still low over the trees, the air already felt hot and wet.
My whole body ached from lying on the hard ground. My shirt was damp and smelly. My stomach growled. I scratched my neck and discovered it was covered with mosquito bites.
Not one of the great mornings.
And it wasn’t going to get any better.
We walked for hours through the sweltering jungle. Carolyn and Kareen led the way. Dr. Hawlings walked behind Aunt Benna and me, making sure we didn’t try to escape.
No one said a word. The only sounds were the cries of animals, the chirping of birds overhead, and the swish of the tall weeds and grass as we pushed through.
Swarms of white gnats flew up off the path, swirling together like small tornadoes. The sun beamed down through the trees, burning the back of my neck.
When we finally made it back to the row of cabins, I was hot, sweaty, starving, and dying of thirst.
Dr. Hawlings shoved Aunt Benna and me into an empty cabin. He slammed the door behind us and locked it.
The cabin had two folding chairs and a small bed without sheets or blankets. I dropped down wearily onto the bare mattress. “What is he going to do to us?”
Aunt Benna bit her lip. “Don’t worry,” she said softly. “I’ll figure something out.” She crossed the small room and tried the window. It was either stuck or bolted from the outside.
“Maybe we can break the glass,” I suggested.
“No, he’ll hear it,” Aunt Benna replied.
I rubbed the back of my neck. The mosquito bites were itching like crazy. I wiped sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand.
The door opened. Kareen entered, carrying two small bottles of water. She tossed one to me and one to my aunt. Then she turned quickly, closed the door hard behind her, and carefully locked it.
I tilted the bottle to my mouth and gulped down the water without taking a breath. There were a few drops left at the bottom. I sprinkled them over the top of my head. Then I tossed the bottle to the floor.
“What are we going to do?” I asked Aunt Benna.
She was sitting in one of the folding chairs, her feet resting on the other. She raised a finger to her lips. “Ssshhh.”
Outside, I heard the rattle of machinery. A metallic clang. I heard the rush of water from a hose.
I hurried to the window and peered out. But it faced the wrong way. I couldn’t see anything.
“We’ve had one lucky break,” Aunt Benna murmured.
I stared at her. “Excuse me?”
“One lucky break,” she repeated. “Hawlings didn’t take away the shrunken head. It was so dark last night, I don’t think he saw it.”
I pulled the head out from my pocket. The black hair had become tangled. I started to smooth it back.
“Put it away, Mark,” Aunt Benna ordered sharply. “We don’t want Hawlings to see it. He doesn’t know that you need the head for Jungle Magic.”
“This particular head?” I asked, shoving it back in the pocket. “Only this head?”
Aunt Benna nodded. “Yes. That head and the magic word. The word I gave you when I hypnotized you. When you were four.”
The head’s black hair fell over my pocket. I carefully tucked it inside.
Outside, I heard another metallic clank. I heard a splash. The roar of water grew louder.
“We are in terrible danger,” Aunt Benna said softly. “You will have to use the Jungle Magic to save us, Mark.”
I felt a chill of fear. But I muttered, “No problem.”
“Wait till I give you the signal,” Aunt Benna instructed. “When I blink my eyes three times, pull the shrunken head out and shout the word. Keep watching me. Watch for the signal — okay?”
Before I could reply, the door burst open. Dr. Hawlings and Carolyn hurried in, their faces grim.
Dr. Hawlings carried a large silvery pistol. “Outside,” he ordered, waving the pistol at Aunt Benna and me.
Carolyn led the way down the row of cabins. She turned and made us stop behind the main headquarters building. Kareen stood against the wall, a wide-brimmed straw hat pulled down over her eyes.
The sun beamed down. The back of my neck prickled and itched.
Huddling close to my aunt, I squinted into the bright sunlight. To my right, the big pile of shrunken heads came into focus.
The dark eyes on the leathery, green-and-brown heads seemed to stare at me. The mouths were all twisted in ugly expressions of anger and horror.
I turned away from the terrifying pile of tiny heads — to see something even more terrifying.
An enormous black pot stood behind the headquarters building. Water brimmed over the top, bubbling and boiling.
The pot stood on some kind of electric burner. Like a stove burner. It glared red hot. The boiling water inside the pot bubbled and steamed.
I turned to Aunt Benna and caught the fear on her face. “You can’t do this!” she screamed to Dr. Hawlings. “You know you can’t get away with this!”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Dr. Hawlings said calmly, without any emotion at all. A smile spread over his face. “I don’t want to harm you, Benna. I just want to own the Jungle Magic.”
I kept my eyes locked on my aunt. Waiting for her signal. Waiting for the three blinks that meant I should go into action.
“Give me the Jungle Magic,” Dr. Hawlings insisted.
Carolyn stepped up beside him, hands on her waist. “Give it to us, Benna. We don’t want trouble. We really don’t.”
“No!” The word shot out of my aunt’s mouth. “No! No! No! You both know that I will never give up the secret of Jungle Magic. Not to you. Not ever!”
Carolyn sighed. “Please, Benna. Don’t make it difficult.”
My aunt stared back at her. “Never,” she murmured.
Aunt Benna blinked.
I swallowed hard, watching for two more blinks.
No. Not the signal. Not yet.
Dr. Hawlings stepped forward. “Please, Benna. I’m giving you one last chance. Tell us the secret — now.”
Aunt Benna shook her head.
“Then I have no choice,” Dr. Hawlings said, shaking his head. “Since you two are the only ones in the world who know the secret, you are both too dangerous. The secret must die with you.”
“Wh-what are you going to do to us?” I blurted out.
“We’re going to shrink your heads,” Dr. Hawlings replied.
28
The pot hissed as water boiled over the side. I stared in horror at the billows of steam rising up over the pot.
Was he really going to shrink our heads?
Was I going to end up shriveled and leathery, with a head the size of a doorknob?
I forced my legs to stop wobbling and stared at Aunt Benna. Stared at her. Stared hard. Watching her eyes. Waiting for the three blinks.
Hurry! I pleaded silently. Hurry — before he tosses us into the boiling water!
Kareen watched in silence. What was she thinking? I wondered. I couldn’t see her expression. Her face was hidden under the brim of the straw hat.
“Benna, one last chance,” Dr. Hawlings said softly. “Because I like you. And I like your nephew. Don’t let me harm your nephew, Benna. Do it for him, okay? Tell me the secret — for Mark’s sake.”
“It isn’t worth it, Benna,” Carolyn chimed in. “It will be so easy for you to give the Jungle Magic to us.”
“I — I can’t,” Aunt Benna stammered.
“Then we have no choice,” Dr. Hawlings said, almost sadly. “The boy goes in first.”
He took a step toward me.
Aunt Benna blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.
Finally!
With a trembling hand, I tugged the head from my pocket.
I raised it in front of me. I opened my mouth to shout the secret word.
But Dr. Hawlings swiped the head from my hand.
He
grabbed it away — and tossed it onto the big pile of heads.
Then he dove for me, reaching out to grab me with both hands.
I ducked out from under him.
And threw myself onto the disgusting pile of heads.
I began frantically sorting through them with both hands. Picking one up, tossing it aside. Grabbing the next one. The next one. The next one.
They felt sticky and warm. Hard as baseballs. The hair brushed my hands. The dark eyes stared up at me blankly. They were so ugly, my stomach tightened. My breath came in wheezing gasps.
Behind me, I could hear my aunt struggling with Dr. Hawlings. Wrestling with him. Trying to keep him away from me.
I heard Carolyn’s shouts. Kareen’s cries of alarm.
I had to find my shrunken head.
I had to find it before Dr. Hawlings broke free of my aunt and grabbed me.
I picked one up. Tossed it down. Picked up another. Tossed it down.
How could I find mine?
Which one was it?
Which one? Which one?
29
I grabbed a head. Saw ants crawling over its cheeks.
Picked up another.
It stared at me with glassy black eyes.
Picked up another.
It had a long white scratch on its ear.
I started to toss it back onto the pile.
But stopped.
A white scratch on its ear?
Yes! Mine had a scratch! My sister, Jessica — she scratched it back home!
Yes! This head was mine!
“Thank you, Jessica!” I cried at the top of my lungs.
With an angry cry, Dr. Hawlings dove at me. He wrapped his arms around me and started to drag me off the pile of heads.
“Kah-lee-ah!” I shouted, holding on tightly to the shrunken head. My shrunken head.
“Kah-lee-ah!”
Will it save Aunt Benna and me? I wondered.
Will the Jungle Magic work this time?
Dr. Hawlings still had his arms around my shoulders. He was still trying to pull me toward the boiling pot.
“Kah-lee-ah!” I screamed.
His hands slid away.
They seemed to shrink. His arms seemed to shrink into his body.
“Huh?” I uttered a startled cry when I realized that he was shrinking. Dr. Hawlings’s entire body was shrinking, growing smaller and smaller!
I raised my eyes to Kareen and Carolyn. They were shrinking, too. Shrinking down to the ground.
Kareen disappeared under the straw hat. Then she came running out from under the brim. A tiny Kareen, about the size of a mouse.
All three of them — Kareen, Carolyn, and Dr. Hawlings — scampered over the grass. Mouse-sized. Squeaking angrily in tiny mouse voices.
I stood beside the pile of heads and watched them scurry over the ground. Squeaking and squealing. I watched them until they disappeared into the jungle.
Then I turned back to Aunt Benna. “It worked!” I cried. “The Jungle Magic — it saved us!”
She rushed forward and wrapped me in a hug. “You did it, Mark. You did it! The jungle is safe now! The whole world is safe!”
There were more hugs when Aunt Benna flew me home. Hugs from Mom — and even Jessica.
They met us at the airport. Then Mom drove us home for a big welcome-home dinner. I had so many stories to tell, I started telling them in the car. And I didn’t stop talking until way past dinner.
It was nearly bedtime when Aunt Benna led me into the den. She closed the door behind us. Then she sat me down on the couch.
She sat down beside me. “Look into my eyes,” she said softly. “Look deeply, Mark. Very deeply.”
I raised my eyes to hers. “What are you going to do?” I asked.
I didn’t hear her reply.
As I stared into her eyes, the room grew fuzzy. The colors all seemed to shift and blur. I thought I saw the posters on the den wall flipping over and over. I thought I saw the chairs and coffee table sliding across the floor.
After a while, the room came back into focus. Aunt Benna smiled at me. “There,” she said, squeezing my hand. “You’re back to normal, Mark.”
“Huh?” I squinted at her. “What do you mean?”
“No more Jungle Magic,” she explained. “I took it back. You’re a normal boy again.”
“You mean, if I shout ‘Kah-lee-ah’ nothing will happen?” I asked.
“That’s right.” She smiled at me, still holding my hand. “I took back the magic. The shrunken head has no powers. And you have no powers. You never have to worry about it again.”
She stood up, yawning. “It’s getting late. Bedtime, don’t you think?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I guess.” I was still thinking about how I didn’t have Jungle Magic anymore. “Aunt Benna?”
“Yes?”
“Can I keep the shrunken head?”
“Of course,” she replied, tugging me to my feet. “Keep the shrunken head. As a souvenir. That way, you will always remember your jungle adventure.”
“I don’t think I could forget it too easily,” I replied. Then I said good night and made my way to bed.
The next morning, I woke up early and pulled on my clothes as fast as I could. I couldn’t wait to get to school and show off the shrunken head to Eric and Joel and all the other kids.
I gulped down my cornflakes and chugged my orange juice. I strapped on my backpack. Called good-bye to Mom. Grabbed the shrunken head and headed out the door.
Holding the head carefully in my hand, I started to jog along the sidewalk. It was a bright, sunny day. The air smelled warm and sweet.
My school is only three blocks from my house. But as I jogged along, it seemed like miles.
I couldn’t wait to get there and show off to everyone.
I couldn’t wait to tell my friends about all my jungle adventures.
I could see the school in the next block. And I could see a bunch of kids hanging out by the front door.
As I ran across the street, I suddenly felt the head move in my hand.
It twitched.
“Huh?” I let out a gasp and stared down at it.
The eyes blinked, then stared up at me. The lips closed, then opened again. “Hey, kid,” the head growled. “Let me tell the part about the tiger!”
BEHIND THE SCREAMS
HOW I GOT MY
SHRUNKEN HEAD
CONTENTS
About the Author
Q & A with R.L. Stine
Recipe for Shrunken Heads
Quicksand Survival Guide
Jungle Creatures of the Night
Say the Magic Words
A Terrifying Peek at
GOOSEBUMPS HORRORLAND #10
HELP! WE HAVE STRANGE POWERS!
Bonus material written and compiled
by Matthew D. Payne
About the Author
R.L. Stine’s books are read all over the world. So far, his books have sold more than 300 million copies, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written the teen series Fear Street, the funny series Rotten School, as well as the Mostly Ghostly series, The Nightmare Room series, and the two-book thriller Dangerous Girls. R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and Minnie, his King Charles spaniel. You can learn more about him at www.RLStine.com.
Q & A with R.L. Stine
How long could you survive in the jungle, alone and without supplies?
R.L. Stine (RLS): Not long. I don’t like leaving my crypt—I mean, apartment.
Do you own a shrunken head?
RLS: I do have a shrunken head … my own! You don’t think you could dream up all these weird ideas with a normal head, do you?
Your readers are dying to know: What happened to Kareen, Carolyn, and Dr. Hawlings after they were shrunk and ran off into the jungle?
RLS: I’m dying to know, too. Let me know if any of you ever run into them!
Your books have given millions of kids goose bumps, but what about you? Have you ever found yourself frightened by your own writing?
RLS: No, my writing never frightens me. But occasionally I laugh at my own jokes. Sometimes I crack myself up!
What else are you frightened of? Large spiders? Dark basements? Flying?
RLS: Just about anything can be scary. And often things that are very ordinary are the scariest things of all. Like dolls. Children play with dolls. They’re sweet, right? But many books and movies have made dolls seem really creepy. Frankly, I don’t trust dolls. Do you?
If you were a superhero, what would your superpower be?
RLS: I’d be Steel-Finger, because I have typed all of my books with just one finger. You should see it! It’s all bent and funny looking from typing three hundred books!
Things are getting crazy in HorrorLand! In Goosebumps HorrorLand #10: Help! We Have Strange Powers! we go even deeper into this mysterious theme park. What sort of special powers do the kids have, and why do they need help?
RLS: They need all the help they can get—especially when they come up against two new supervillains who are definitely not kid friendly.
To find out what R.L. Stine thinks about ventriloquist’s dummies, pick up the special collector’s edition of Goosebumps: NIGHT OF THE LIVING DUMMY
Recipe for Shrunken Heads
Creating real shrunken heads is tough work! You have to remove the skull ever so carefully, boil the skin just perfectly, and spend hours and hours rolling hot stones and sand around in the ever-shrinking head. Who has time for that?
Want an easier way to create a shrunken head? Then follow the recipe below.
WARNING: Please ask an adult for help! This recipe involves carving tools.
