Don't Stay Up Late

by R. L. Stine

  He lowered his hands to the arms of the chair. I think he wanted to get up. He wanted to leave.

  But the front doorbell rang, startling us both. And I heard a dog bark outside.

  “Nate—it’s Morty!” I cried. I tugged Nate to his feet. “Someone has found Morty!”

  We both tore across the living room to the front door. I pulled the door open and held my arms out to hug my dog.

  8.

  The young guy on the front stoop wore a black leather vest over a white T-shirt and baggy denim jeans. He had a green and yellow John Deere cap pulled over his forehead. A stubble of black beard covered his tanned cheeks.

  “I saw your thing online about your missing dog,” he said. “I found him in my backyard and—”

  “But that’s not my dog!” I cried. “That’s not Morty!”

  My voice came out high and shrill. Nate put a hand on my shoulder as if to steady me.

  “Wrong dog,” he told the guy.

  The dog gazed up at me, panting softly. It was some kind of shepherd-mix. Its tail was tucked between its hind legs. A patch of gray fur on its back was missing.

  The guy squinted at me, then at the dog. “You sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure,” I snapped. I wanted to slam the door shut. I didn’t want to look at that ragged, forlorn animal on my stoop. I wanted Morty.

  “Who is it, dear?” Mom called from inside the house.

  “No one,” I shouted back.

  “Sorry,” the guy said. “I thought maybe—”

  “Thanks for trying,” Nate told him.

  I pushed the door shut. I led the way back to the den. I was walking stiffly, as if every muscle in my body had tightened. Total tension and frustration and disappointment.

  Through the living room window, I saw the guy leading the dog down the driveway. He and the dog had their heads lowered with the same unhappy expression on their faces. It would have made a funny photo … if I was in the mood for funny.

  In the den, Nate slid his arms around my waist. His hair fell over his forehead as he started to kiss me. I cut the kiss off with a shudder. I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Nate. I’m just not good company right now. Seriously. You’d better go.”

  * * *

  Late that night I sat straight up in bed when I heard a dog howling outside my bedroom window. I was still in that space between asleep and awake, but I knew I wasn’t dreaming.

  The window stood half-open. The curtains at the window were still. No breeze tonight. But as I climbed to my feet, I could see pale lights, the sky clear and full of stars.

  I tugged my sneakers on without lacing them. And found my jean jacket in my closet. As I pulled it over my shoulders, I heard the dog howl again. A long, mournful sound.

  “Morty. I’m coming, Morty.”

  I crept downstairs. The steps creaked beneath my feet. The house was dark. It smelled of popcorn, the late-night snack Mom and I shared while watching a dumb comedy movie on TV.

  Moving silently, I made my way out the back door, across the dew-wet back lawn, and into the woods that stretched behind our house.

  The dog howled again. Close by. Very close.

  My heart started to pound.

  A brilliant full moon shone down through the trees. The sky was so clear tonight. Above the spring-bare tree limbs I could see the stars high above me.

  The moonlight … the starlight … made the whole world glow like silver. Unreal.

  The cool air made my skin tingle. I pulled the jean jacket tighter. I listened hard. “Morty, where are you? Morty—I’m coming.”

  Another howl. And then a tall shadow moved between the silvery trees. A shadow. A figure. Running fast.

  It burst into view, and I tried to scream.

  I was staring at some kind of creature.

  I grabbed a tree trunk and wrapped my arms around it, as if to hold myself up. I stared into the silvery light and watched the thing trot through the trees.

  He stood on two legs and ran upright, like a human. But he was bare-chested, and even in this strange light, I could see that his body was weird, huge, long-fingered hands at the end of skinny arms, a nearly bald head, red glowing eyes. He stopped for a moment in a pool of light. And I saw his face … distorted … features twisted.… Not a human face.

  His ears stuck straight up, like pig’s ears. A long animal snout poked from between his cheeks. His snout hung open. I could see two rows of long, fanglike teeth.

  And suddenly, with my arms wrapped tightly around the cold, rough tree trunk, I knew I was dreaming again. Another nightmare. You know how when you are asleep and you are totally aware that you are in a dream.

  Wake up. Wake up, Lisa.

  Why couldn’t I wake myself from this one?

  The creature made ugly growling sounds. He was a blur as he moved toward me. And then he was only a shadow again, a shadow with glowing ruby eyes. He seemed to melt into the darkness.

  Was he really there at all?

  Wake up, Lisa. Hurry. Wake up from this nightmare.

  But there was no escape this time. I heard a groan. And then the shadow swept over me, grabbed me, shook me hard, grunting my name.

  9.

  “Let me go!” I shrieked. My eyes were shut tight. “Get off me!”

  “Lisa, what are you doing out here?”

  I opened my eyes to see my mother, hair wild about her face, a raincoat pulled over her nightshirt. Her eyes were wide with fright. They reflected the eerie light from the moon. Her chin trembled. She was shivering.

  “What are you doing out here? Why are you in the woods in the middle of the night? I was frantic. I searched everywhere for you.”

  I leaned forward and forced her to hug me. I just stood there leaning into her, wrapped up in her, my head pressed against the front of her coat.

  “Lisa? Can you talk? Are you okay?” Her voice trembled on the night air.

  I stood up. Her warmth lingered on my skin. “I thought … I thought I was dreaming. I saw a creature. An ugly half-human creature that ran into the shadows, Mom. I saw it and I knew I had to be dreaming.”

  Mom had tears in her eyes. They glistened in the moonlight like twin pearls. “But you’re not dreaming, Lisa. Look where you are. You’re in the woods.”

  I gazed around. The cool night air made me shiver. I hugged myself to stop my shakes. “Was I sleepwalking?”

  Mom hesitated. “I guess you were.”

  “Something new,” I said, rolling my eyes. “The nightmares weren’t bad enough. Now I have to go roaming around like a lunatic in the woods.” I sighed. “At least I was sane enough to put on clothes. I’m not walking around out here totally naked. That’s a good sign, right?”

  I was trying to get a smile from my mom. I didn’t like to see tears in her eyes. She wasn’t an emotional person. She wasn’t supposed to cry.

  She didn’t smile and she didn’t answer my question. Without another word, I took her arm and we began to walk to the house. After a few steps, I stopped.

  She stumbled but caught her balance. “Lisa? What’s wrong?”

  “What about the creature?” I asked. “Was he real, too?”

  “Of course not,” she said softly.

  “But what does that mean? That I was sleepwalking and having a nightmare at the same time?” I sighed. “Will I always be this crazy, Mom?”

  “You’re not crazy.” Her voice was a whisper. “Don’t say that.”

  “Well, will I ever be normal again? Will I?”

  She stepped into shadows. I couldn’t see her face. I couldn’t hear her whispered reply. My question lingered in the air like a forgotten whisper.

  * * *

  The next morning I slept in and woke up refreshed. I thought about the day. I remembered I had an appointment with Dr. Shein. Before that, I wanted to walk over to Nate’s house and apologize for how badly I treated him the day before.

  Of course, Mom thought it might be too much for me. “Why don’t you invite him over h
ere?”

  “Mom,” I said, “I can walk three blocks in broad daylight. Seriously. You have to let me try to do normal things. It’s the only way I’ll ever return to a normal life.”

  I didn’t shout and I didn’t plead. I kept my voice low and steady, and I think my argument won her over.

  “Maybe you’re right. Walk to Nate’s. Go ahead. Get out of the house for a couple of hours. I don’t want to hold you back. Let’s see how you do.”

  A couple of hours? She was treating me like a mental patient. But so what? I got my way. I texted Nate and told him I was coming over.

  It was a warm spring afternoon. I pulled a blue, long-sleeved top over a pair of denim shorts. “You need a jacket,” Mom called from the kitchen.

  “No, I don’t,” I shouted.

  “Don’t forget your appointment with Dr. Shein,” she yelled.

  “I won’t forget.” I stepped outside, squinting into the sunlight, and took a deep breath. The air smelled so fresh and sweet.

  Across the street, the dogwood trees in the Millers’ front yard were just beginning to show their white blossoms. Two little boys in their driveway were tossing a Nerf baseball back and forth. They waved to me as I walked to the sidewalk.

  Our front lawn needed to be mowed. It was overgrown with weeds, and the brown fall leaves hadn’t been raked. Dad had always taken care of the lawn. Mom probably hadn’t given it a thought.

  I crossed Pines Road. An SUV filled with kids in soccer uniforms rumbled past. The houses on this block were big, with wide sloping lawns. I saw two robins fighting over a fat brown earthworm, a real tug-of-war.

  A beautiful spring day and I was enjoying my walk, feeling like a human again, feeling like I could face the world and move on. Just move on.

  The walk was refreshing and enjoyable—until I arrived at Nate’s house. And then I was heaved back … back into a world of horror.

  10.

  Nate lives in a long, ranch-style house, dark redwood with purple shutters beside the windows. The purple shutters were his dad’s idea. His dad is kind of an old-style hippie. He tries to be very cool. He sells life insurance, but he’s also a jazz musician and a painter.

  Nate’s mom is tall and thin and very pretty in an old-fashioned TV sitcom way. She likes to chatter and gossip. She is the nicest person in the world. Nate has a younger brother, Tim, who looks like a Nate clone, but I don’t know him very well.

  Actually, the whole family could be clones. They are all lanky and tall with straight black hair and dark eyes.

  I walked up Nate’s driveway. His dad’s red Prius was parked at the top of the driveway. The sun was reflected in their living room window making it glow like gold. I turned toward the front stoop but stopped when I heard voices. From the backyard?

  Yes. I made my way around the side of the garage, stepping over a coiled green garden hose. I smelled something sweet from the open kitchen window. Mrs. Goodman is an awesome baker.

  Nate’s backyard is fenced in by tall, straight evergreen shrubs. I saw a row of shrubs, gleaming in the sunlight. And then I heard a scream.

  I stepped past the garage onto the back lawn. And cried out as I saw a hideous green creature. A demon. From out of my nightmares. Only this one was real, as real as the grass and the blue sky and the gray squirrel that leaped out of its way and darted from the yard.

  The green creature dove out of the shadows of the tall shrubs and scrambled across the yard. I saw Saralynn with her back turned.

  No time to warn her. I tried to scream but I couldn’t make a sound.

  No time. No time.

  The creature looked like something out of a horror movie with huge, three-fingered hands, a round green head with rows of long pointed teeth hanging from its mouth, a slender green body, naked, totally naked.

  A few feet from Saralynn, it turned. It saw me! It spun away from her and came galloping at me, grunting, its huge bare feet thundering over the grass.

  Before I could move, it dove forward—and grabbed me around the waist.

  I opened my mouth and uttered a shrill scream.

  11.

  “You idiot!” I cried. “You stupid idiot!”

  Nate laughed and slid the green creature mask off his head. His dark hair was damp and matted across his forehead. “Lisa? Did I scare you?”

  I pumped both fists against his green rubber chest. “How could you do that to me? Did you think that was funny?”

  “Oops. Sorry,” he said, his smile fading. “I just wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

  “You ruined the whole scene,” I heard a voice behind me say. I turned and saw Isaac with a little camcorder in his hand. “We’ll have to start again.”

  “Too bad,” I said. “I can’t believe you would do that to me, Nate. Especially after … after…”

  He tried to slide his green arm around my shoulders but I backed away. “I just got carried away,” he said. “Guess I like being a demon too much.”

  “We’re sorry,” Saralynn said, her eyes on Nate. “It’s just that we’ve been working for days on my horror video.”

  “Do you like the demon costume?” Nate said, thumping the green chest with one fist. “It was actually used in an old Universal horror film back in the fifties. It’s from my costume collection.”

  “Hey, Nate, you should do it without the mask,” Isaac said. “Your face is a lot scarier.”

  Saralynn put an arm around my waist. “Lisa, forgive us. Sometimes Nate is an idiot.”

  “You don’t understand,” I said. “These days, I’m scared of my own reflection. Last night I saw a creature running through the woods. And now—now when I saw you in your costume coming at me…” My voice trailed off.

  Saralynn kept her arm around my waist. “We know you’ve been having a tough time.”

  I took a deep breath and forced myself to stop trembling. “I’m going to stop being ridiculous,” I said. “I promise. I’m going to be myself again. You’ll see.”

  “Maybe we should go inside,” Nate said.

  “We need to shoot the rest at night,” Isaac said. “It’s too nice outside to be scary.”

  I started to follow them to the house. I felt much better. They really were good friends. Other kids might have laughed or made jokes or tried to embarrass me for seeing a demon in the backyard. But they tried to assure me that I wasn’t crazy.

  Nate stepped up beside me as we made our way along the side of the garage. “I have a new horror film on DVD,” he said. “My Big Fat Blood-Soaked Wedding. Have you seen it?”

  “Of course not,” I said.

  “I heard it’s a riot,” Isaac said.

  “Let’s watch it,” Saralynn said. “Nate, what have you got for snacks?”

  I stopped at the kitchen door. Through the window, I could see Nate’s mom taking something out of the oven. The smell of chocolate floated over the backyard. “I can’t stay,” I said.

  “Sorry,” Nate said, squeezing my hand. “A horror film is probably a bad idea. I didn’t think.”

  “It’s not that,” I said. “I have a doctor appointment. I just came over to apologize. You know. For yesterday when you came over. I was a beast. I’m really sorry. I—”

  “Has the doctor been helpful?” Saralynn asked.

  “She’s wonderful,” I said. “She’s so supportive. She makes me feel I really can get over this.”

  “That’s so nice you have someone good to talk to,” Saralynn said.

  Behind her, Isaac was waving frantically, trying to get my attention. I turned to him. “What’s up?”

  “Hey, I have a great idea,” he said. “Why don’t you come hear my band at the Hothouse Friday night? We totally suck, but maybe it will take your mind off everything.”

  “Yeah. Maybe,” I said.

  But I realized I didn’t want to do that. Since the accident, I’d only seen my three friends. I hadn’t seen anyone else from school.

  And if I went to hear Isaac’s band, all these people woul
d be feeling sorry for me, and staring at me, and giving me sympathetic looks, and offering me condolences and saying how sorry they were.

  I knew they’d all mean well. But I couldn’t take it. I knew all that attention and all that sympathy would freak me out.

  “So you’ll come?” Isaac said.

  “Well … I’ll ask Dr. Shein if it’s a good idea,” I said.

  Nate tugged at the neck of his green rubber costume. “I’ve got to get out of this thing,” he groaned. “It’s two hundred degrees in here.”

  I gazed at the demon mask crumpled in his hand. “You make a terrifying monster,” I said.

  For some reason, Nate blushed. Then he grinned at me. “Seriously. That’s my real personality.” His cheeks remained red.

  I saw Saralynn flash him a disapproving look. Like he shouldn’t have made that joke.

  What’s going on with those two? I wondered. Is there something I’m not getting? Are they more than friends?

  12.

  Dr. Shein has one weird habit that I’ve noticed. She has a white mug filled with yellow pencils on her desk beside the phone. And as we talk, she chews on an eraser. By the time our session is over, she has completely chewed the eraser off. I’ve never seen her spit one out. I think she swallows them.

  Weird, right?

  Just a nervous habit, I guess. Aside from the eraser-chewing, she is totally normal and nice and just an awesome, sweet, understanding person. I couldn’t have survived all that has happened to me without her, and that’s the truth.

  Now I sat in the red leather armchair across from her wide glass desk. My hands were sweaty and left a trail of dampness on the chair arms. I kept crossing and uncrossing my legs.

  Yes, Dr. Shein was always understanding and never judgmental. But it made me tense whenever I told her about the crazy things I had imagined or done. I was eager for her to think that I was getting better, even if I didn’t believe it myself.

  The sun had come out early in the afternoon and filled the windows behind her with yellow light. Her short blonde hair appeared to glow. She has bright blue eyes behind her frameless glasses and a friendly expression, even though she seldom smiles.