by R. L. Stine
And lowered it into the shoe box. And fastened the lid over the top.
I set the shoe box down on the dresser top and examined my hand. It felt wet and sticky. But the skin hadn’t turned yellow or peeled off or anything.
I could hear the creature pulsing inside the box.
“Don’t growl like that again,” I told it. “You scared me.”
I grabbed some tissues and wiped off my hand. I kept my eyes on the box. The creature was bouncing around in there.
What kind of animal is it? I wondered.
I wished Mom and Dad were home. I really, really wanted to show it to them.
I glanced at the clock radio on my bedside table. Only nine o’clock. Anne might still be sleeping. Sometimes she slept until noon on Saturdays. I’m not really sure why. She said it made the day go faster. Anne is a pretty weird girl.
I lifted the box with both hands. The egg creature felt surprisingly heavy. I made sure the lid was on tight. Then I carried it down the stairs and out the back door.
It was a sunny, warm day. A soft breeze made the fresh spring leaves tremble on the trees. Two houses down Mr. Simpson was already mowing his back lawn. Near the garage two robins were having a tug-of-war over a fat brown earthworm.
I carried the box to Anne’s back door. The door was open. I peered through the screen.
“Hi, Dana. Come in,” Anne’s mother called from in front of the sink.
Balancing the box against my chest, I pulled open the screen door and stepped into the kitchen. Anne sat at the breakfast table. She wore a big blue T-shirt over black bike shorts. Her red-brown hair was tied behind her head in a long ponytail.
Three guesses what she was eating for breakfast.
You got it. Scrambled eggs.
“Yo, Dana!” she greeted me. “What’s up?”
“Well—”
Mrs. Gravel moved to the stove. “Dana, have you had breakfast? Can I make you some scrambled eggs?”
My stomach did a flip-flop. I swallowed hard. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Nice fresh eggs,” Mrs. Gravel insisted. “I could make them fried if you don’t like scrambled.”
“No thanks,” I replied weakly.
I felt the eggy blob bounce inside the box.
“I might need some more,” Anne told her mom, shoveling in a big glob. “These eggs are great, Mom.”
Mrs. Gravel cracked an egg on the side of the skillet. “Maybe I’ll make one for myself,” she said.
All this egg talk was making me sick.
Anne finished her orange juice. “Hey—what’s in the box? New sneakers?”
“Uh… no,” I replied. “Check this out, Anne. You won’t believe what I found.”
I was so eager to show it to her! Holding the box in front of me with both hands, I started across the kitchen.
And tripped over Stubby.
Again!
That big dumb sheepdog always got underfoot.
“Whooooaaa!” I let out a cry as I fell over the dog—and watched the shoe box fly into the air.
I landed on top of Stubby. Got a mouthful of fur.
Struggled frantically to my feet.
And saw the egg creature sail out of the box and drop onto Anne’s breakfast plate.
Anne’s mouth dropped open. Her face twisted in disgust. “Oh, yuck!” she wailed. “Rotten eggs! Gross! Rotten eggs!”
“No—it’s alive!” I protested.
But I don’t think anyone heard me. Stubby jumped up on me as I started to explain, and nearly knocked me down again.
“Down, boy! Down!” Mrs. Gravel scolded. “You know better than that.”
“Get this away!” Anne demanded, shoving her plate across the table.
Her mom examined the plate, then glared at me. “Dana, what’s wrong with you? This isn’t funny. You ruined perfectly good scrambled eggs.”
“You spoiled my breakfast!” Anne cried angrily.
“No, wait—” I protested.
But I wasn’t fast enough.
Mrs. Gravel grabbed up the plate. She carried it to the sink, clicked on the garbage disposal—and started to empty the egg creature into the roaring drain.
11
“Nooooo!”
I let out a shriek—and dove for the sink.
I made a wild grab and pulled the creature from the drain.
No. I pulled a handful of scrambled eggs from the drain!
The egg creature rolled around the sink and started to slide toward the gurgling drain. I tossed the scrambled eggs down and grabbed the creature as it started to drop toward the grinding blades.
The lumpy yellow blob felt hot in my hands. I could feel the veins throbbing. The whole creature pulsed rapidly, like a racing heart.
I raised it up to my face and examined it. Still in one piece. “I saved your life!” I told it. “Whew! What a close one!”
I balanced it carefully in my palm. It shuddered and throbbed. Wet bubbles rolled down its lumpy sides. The black eyes stared up at me.
“What is that thing?” Anne demanded, getting up from the breakfast table. She straightened her long ponytail. “Is it a puppet? Did you make it out of an old sock or something?”
Before I could answer, Mrs. Gravel gave me a gentle push toward the kitchen door. “Get it out of here, Dana,” she ordered. “It’s disgusting.” She pointed down. “Look. It’s dripping some kind of eggy goo all over my kitchen floor.”
“I—I found it out back,” I started. “I don’t really know what it is, but—”
“Out,” Anne’s mom insisted. She held open the screen door for me. “Out. I mean it. I don’t want to have to wash the whole floor.”
I didn’t have a choice. I carried the egg creature out into the backyard. It seemed a little calmer. At least it wasn’t trembling and pulsing so hard.
Anne followed me to the driveway. The bright sun made the egg creature gleam. My hands felt slimy and wet. I didn’t want to squeeze it too tightly. But I also didn’t want to let it fall.
“Is it a puppet?” Anne demanded. She bent down to see it better. “Yuck. It’s alive?”
I nodded. “I don’t know what it is. But it’s definitely alive. I found it yesterday. At Brandy’s party.”
Anne continued to study the yellow blob. “You found it? Where?”
“I found an egg back by the creek,” I told her. “A very weird-looking egg. I took it home, and it hatched this morning. And this is what came out.”
“But what is it?” Anne asked. She gingerly poked its side with a pointer finger. “Oh, yuck. It’s wet and mushy.”
“It’s not a chicken,” I replied.
“Duhhh,” Anne said, rolling her eyes. “Did you figure that out all by yourself?”
“I thought it might be a turtle egg,” I said, ignoring her sarcasm.
She squinted harder at it. “Do you think it’s a turtle without its shell? Do turtles hatch without their shells?”
“I don’t think so,” I replied.
“Maybe it’s some kind of mistake,” Anne suggested. “A freak of nature. You know. Like you!” She laughed.
Anne has a great sense of humor.
She poked the egg creature again. The creature let out a soft wheeze of air. “Maybe you discovered a new species,” Anne suggested. “A whole new kind of animal that’s never been seen before.”
“Maybe,” I replied. That was an exciting idea.
“They’ll name it after you,” Anne teased. “They’ll call it the Dodo!” She laughed again.
“You’re not being very helpful,” I said sharply.
And then I had an idea.
“Know what I’m going to do with it?” I said, cupping it carefully between my hands. “I’m going to take it to that little science lab.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “What science lab?”
“You know that little lab,” I replied impatiently. “The one on Denver Street. Just three blocks from here.”
“I don’t hang out
at weird little science labs,” Anne said.
“Well, I don’t, either,” I told her. “But I’ve passed by that lab a million times, riding my bike to school. I’m going to take this thing there. Someone will tell me what it is.”
“I’m not going with you,” Anne said, crossing her skinny arms in front of her chest. “I have better things to do.”
“I didn’t invite you,” I sneered.
She sneered back at me.
I think she was jealous that I found the mysterious creature and she didn’t.
“Please get me the shoe box,” I said. “I left it in your kitchen. I’m going to ride my bike over to that lab right now.”
Anne went inside and came back with the shoe box. “It’s all sticky inside,” she said, making a disgusted face. “Whatever that thing is, it sure sweats a lot.”
“Maybe your face scared it!” I declared. My turn to laugh. I’m usually the serious one. I don’t get off too many jokes. But that was a pretty good one.
Anne ignored it. She watched as I lowered the creature into the box. Then she raised her eyes to me. “You sure that isn’t some kind of wind-up toy? This thing is all a big joke—isn’t it, Dana?”
I shook my head. “No way. It’s no joke. I’ll stop by later and tell you what the scientists at the lab say about it.”
I fit the lid on the shoe box. Then I hurried to the garage to get my bike.
I couldn’t wait to get to the science lab.
As it turned out, I should have stayed as far away from that place as possible.
But how could I know what was waiting for me there?
12
“Look out!”
Anne’s stupid sheepdog ran in front of my bike just as I started down the driveway.
I jammed on the hand brake. My bike squealed to a sharp stop—and the shoe box nearly toppled off the handlebars.
“Stubby—you moron!” I shrieked.
The dog loped off across the backyard, probably laughing to himself. I think Stubby gets a real thrill by tripping me up whenever he sees me.
I waited for my heart to stop thudding in my chest. Then I steadied the shoe box on the handlebars.
I started pedaling along the street, steering with one hand, keeping the other hand on top of the box.
“The scientists at the lab have got to know what this thing is,” I told myself. “They’ve got to.”
I usually speed down my street. But this morning I pedaled slowly. I stopped at each corner to make sure no cars were coming.
I tried to steer away from bumps in the street. But my street has a lot of potholes. Each time I hit a bump, I could hear the egg creature bouncing inside the carton.
Just don’t bounce out, I thought.
I pictured it bouncing out of the box, dropping onto the street, and being run over by a car.
I stopped to balance it better on the handlebars. Then I began pedaling slowly again.
Some kids from school were starting up a softball game on the playground on the next block. They called to me. I think they wanted me to join the game.
But I pretended I didn’t hear them. I didn’t have time for softball. I was on a scientific mission. I didn’t look back. I kept pedaling.
As I turned the corner onto Denver, a city bus roared past. The whoosh of air from the bus nearly knocked me over.
As I steadied the bike, I saw the lid push up from the shoe box.
The egg creature was trying to escape!
I grabbed the box and tried to push down the lid. I pedaled faster. The lab was only a block away.
The creature pushed up against the lid.
I pushed back.
I didn’t want to crush it. But I didn’t want it to escape, either.
I could feel it bouncing inside the box. Pushing up against the lid.
I kept my hand on the lid, struggling to hold it down.
A station wagon filled with kids rumbled past. One of the kids yelled something to me. I didn’t really hear him. I was concentrating as hard as I could on keeping the egg creature inside the box.
I rolled through a stop sign. I didn’t even see it. Luckily no cars were approaching.
The lab came into view on the next corner. It was a white shingled building. Very low. Only one story tall. But very long. With a row of small, square windows along the front. It looked like a very long train car.
I bumped up the curb and rode my bike onto the grass. Then I grabbed the shoe box with both hands and hopped off. The bike fell to the ground, both wheels spinning.
Gripping the box tightly in both hands, I ran across the front lawn, up to the white double doors in front.
I found a doorbell on the wall to the right of the doors. I pushed it. Pushed it again. Kept my finger on it.
When no one came to the door, I tried the knob. Pushed. Then pulled.
No. The door was locked.
I tried knocking. I pounded as hard as I could with my fist.
Then I rang the bell again.
Where was everyone?
I was about to start pounding again when I saw the sign over the door. A small, hand-printed black-and-white sign that sent my heart sinking. It read:
CLOSED SATURDAYS AND SUNDAYS.
13
I let out a long sigh and shoved the box under my arm. I was so disappointed. What was I going to do with this weird egg creature now?
Shaking my head unhappily, I turned and started back to my bike. I was halfway across the grass when I heard the front door open.
I turned to see an older man in a white lab coat. He had shiny white hair, parted in the middle and slicked down on the sides. His moustache was salt-and-pepper. He had pale blue eyes that peered out at me from his pale, wrinkly face.
His smile made his eyes crinkle up at the sides. “Can I help you?” he asked.
“Uh… yeah,” I stammered. I raised the shoe box in front of me and started back across the grass. I could feel the egg creature bouncing around in there.
“Is that a sick bird?” the man asked, squinting at the box. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. This is a science lab. I’m not a vet.”
“No. It’s not a bird,” I told him. I carried the box to the doorway. My heart was pounding. For some reason, I felt really nervous.
I guess I was excited about talking to a real scientist. I respect and admire scientists so much.
Also, I was excited about finally finding out what had hatched from that weird egg. And finding out what I should do with it.
The man smiled at me again. He had a warm, friendly smile that made me feel a little calmer. “Well, if it isn’t a bird in there, what is it?” he asked softly.
“I was hoping you could tell me!” I replied. I shoved the shoe box toward him, but he didn’t take it.
“It’s something I found,” I continued. “I mean, I found an egg. In my backyard.”
“An egg? What kind of egg, son?”
“I don’t know,” I told him. “It was very big. And it had veins all over it. And it kind of breathed.”
He stared at me. “An egg that breathed.”
I nodded. “I put it in my dresser drawer. And then it hatched this morning. And—”
“Come in, son,” the man said. “Come right in.” His expression changed. His eyes flashed. He suddenly looked very interested.
He put a hand on my shoulder and guided me into the lab. I had to blink a few times and wait for my eyes to adjust to the dim light inside.
The walls were all white. I saw a desk and chairs. A low table with some science magazines on it. This was a waiting room, I decided. It was all very clean and modern-looking. A lot of chrome and glass and white leather.
The man had his eyes on the box in my hands. He rubbed his moustache with his fingers. “I’m Dr. Gray,” he announced. “I’m the managing lab scientist here.”
I switched the box to my left hand so I could shake hands with him. “I want to be a scientist when I’m older,” I blurted ou
t. I could feel my face turning red.
“What’s your name, son?” Dr. Gray asked.
“Oh. Uh. Dana Johnson. I live a few blocks away. On Melrose.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Dana,” Dr. Gray said, straightening the front of his white lab coat. He moved to the front door. He closed it, locked it, and bolted it.
That’s weird, I thought, feeling a shiver of fear.
Why did he do that?
Then I remembered that the lab was closed on weekends. He probably bolts the doors when the place is closed.
“Follow me,” Dr. Gray said. He led the way down the narrow white hallway. I followed him into a small lab. I saw a long table cluttered with all kinds of test tubes, specimen jars, and electronic equipment.
“Set the box down there,” he instructed, pointing to an empty spot on the table.
I set the box down. He reached in front of me to remove the lid. “You found this in your backyard?”
I nodded. “Back by the creek.”
He carefully pulled the lid off the box.
“Oh my goodness!” he murmured.
14
The egg creature stared up at us. It quivered and bubbled against the side of the box. The bottom of the box was puddled with a sticky yellow goo.
“So you found one,” Dr. Gray murmured, tilting the box. The yellow blob slid to the other end.
“Found one?” I replied. “You mean you know what it is?”
“I thought I rounded them all up,” Dr. Gray replied, rubbing his moustache. He turned his pale blue eyes on me. “But I guess I missed one.”
“What is it?” I demanded. “What kind of animal is it?”
He shrugged. He tilted the box the other way, making the egg creature slide to the other end. Then he gently poked the eggy blob in the back. “This is a young one,” he said softly.
“A young what?” I asked impatiently.
“The eggs fell all over town,” Dr. Gray said, poking the egg creature. “Like a meteor shower. Only on this town.”
“Excuse me?” I cried. “They fell from the sky?” I wanted desperately to understand. But so far, nothing made sense.
