“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked. “Let’s both say it at the same time. Ready? One, two, three!”
“I made the moths,” Marvin blurted.
“The moths are the killers!” Fatima said gleefully.
“I—what?” Marvin said.
“Yes! I think THEY are actually the Elephant Vampire,” she said. “I was looking back over the timeline of the killings—”
“That’s how you spend your free time?” Marvin interrupted.
She ignored him and barreled on. “And your discovery of the moths exactly matches up with the first animal disappearances. Plus, just think about it—who else would be strong enough to take down an elephant like Big ’Un? Maybe GIANT INSECTS?” She finally paused and thought about what Marvin had said. “You made the moths. You made the moths what?”
“I made the moths … clean up after themselves,” Marvin said, grinning lamely.
“That’s your big news?” she said. “I don’t think you understand the concept of ‘big news.’”
“Let’s call it ‘highly unexpected news,’” he said.
“Let’s not.”
“Can we at least agree that they’d be unlikely to do that?” he said.
“I suppose so,” Fatima said. “Because I’d expect them to be, oh, I don’t know, sucking the life from their next victims!”
“They can’t be the killers,” Marvin said. “They’re just big dopes who like to eat wool and watch baseball.”
“They’re mutants!” she said. “Who knows what they’re capable of? Or where they even came from? Whoever created them must have had a sick agenda and a dark, twisted mind.”
“Or, maybe,” Marvin said, swallowing nervously, “he was just having a bad day. And even though this researcher—let’s call him ‘Martin’—was trying to do science responsibly, he accidentally mixed some stuff together, and left it lying around for a few days, unattended, and maybe some normal moths just happened to drink it—”
He looked up and saw that Fatima was glaring at him. Her arms were stiff at her sides, and she was angrily drumming the fingers of one hand against her knee brace. Clackety-clack. Clackety-clack.
“It’s just a theory,” Marvin said.
“You idiot,” she said. “You did some dumb, reckless experiment and created those giant moths, didn’t you?”
“One person’s ‘dumb and reckless’ is another person’s ‘pioneering and innovative,’” Marvin said. “Just ask Alexander Fleming about his moldy bread.”
“Fleming’s discovery of penicillin saved millions of people,” she shot back. “Your creations are draining the lifeblood of pachyderms and countless stray cats.”
“Okay, so maybe they’re not exactly the same …” Marvin said.
“You admit it then?” Fatima said. “You admit that you created those monsters?”
“Look, I wasn’t setting out to create giant insects,” he said. “Just better-tasting Pork Punch. So I mixed together some of the raw ingredients to find the perfect blend. And this wasn’t it—let me tell you. I took one swig and spit the whole thing right back into the container. Then I guess some ordinary moths drank it, and—well, the results are living in my bedroom.”
“Your clean bedroom?” she asked.
“No, that part was—well, not exactly true,” Marvin admitted. “Call it wishful thinking.”
“So let me get this straight,” Fatima said, folding her arms. “You took a product that we know has dire effects on living specimens—like Lee—and introduced human DNA to it?”
“What?”
“When you took a mouthful and spat it back in, your saliva entered the mix,” she said. “Now human DNA—your DNA—has been combined with whatever noxious chemicals are already present in Pork Loaf products.”
“I didn’t think of that,” Marvin admitted.
“Big surprise,” she said. “You know, this all makes perfect sense now. Not only do those moths have your DNA, they have your infuriating personality traits, too.”
“My personality traits?”
“Yes! Abraham—that’s the little round one, right?—he has your sarcasm and rudeness. And Aristotle is like a reflection of your intellectual side,” she said. “Honestly, I thought he would be shorter, given the source material.”
“Hey!” Marvin said. “Well, don’t forget about Ahab. He’s just a big sweetheart. Who couldn’t love him?”
“Maybe his victims,” Fatima said. “You know, as they were having their fluids sucked through his long proboscis?”
Up ahead, the line finally started moving. “Take your seats, please,” a teacher called out to the students. Marvin and Fatima walked along with the crowd.
“You’re wrong about the moths,” Marvin said. “They wouldn’t hurt a fly. I mean, they did ambush me and beat me with kitchen utensils once, but that was a misunderstanding.”
“Believe what you want,” Fatima said. “I know I wouldn’t be able to sleep in that room with those murderers. And I definitely wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that I was the one who created them.”
Marvin shuffled into the cafetorium with the rest of the students, trying to ignore her warning. He couldn’t believe that the moths were capable of such horrific acts.
But he also couldn’t quite get the idea out of his mind.
As Marvin walked into the cafetorium, he saw the cheery banner of the Swine in Pearls Theater Brigade. The community acting troupe had visited Marvin’s elementary school each year, performing instructional dramas like Good Neighbors Don’t Cut in Line, Raise Your Hand if You’ve Got to Go, and Marvin’s personal favorite, You Can Pick Your Friends, but You Can’t Pick Your Friend’s Nose. Representatives from the police and fire departments stood at the side of the room.
Marvin also noticed that the Odoriferous Needs students had been brought in from their modular classroom and were seated in a roped-off area to one side of the room. The fire exits stood open, and large fans positioned in front of them were sucking the unpleasant stench out of the building.
In the middle of the cordoned-off crowd of students, Lee was holding court, dispensing wisdom to the newly smelly. Marvin was surprised at just how confident—even happy—Lee appeared to be.
“What about those commercial skunk-spray removers?” one boy asked Lee.
Lee shook his head. “Those don’t work as well as you think,” he said. “Lots of hype. Best to stick to the basics. Baking soda baths are good. And wear natural fibers—they breathe better.”
The girl to Lee’s left, Olivia Muntz, looked uncomfortable as she struggled with how to phrase her question. “But do you really want the—odor—to get out?” she said. “Wouldn’t it be better to trap it in?”
“No,” Lee said. “Ventilation is your friend. The last thing you want is a buildup.” The other children nodded solemnly. “Make sure you always leave the bedroom window cracked, just a little, when you go to sleep,” he added, looking at his audience one by one. “Or else, when you wake up in the morning, you might pass out again from the concentrated smell.”
“That happened to me this morning!” a boy said. “My dad used a pair of barbecue tongs to drag me out of my room.”
“Been there,” Lee said. “One time, I missed school for a week because of that. My grandmother thought I had the flu.”
Fatima watched Lee, a look of surprise on her face. “He looks great,” she said to Marvin as they walked to the front of the room. “He really seems to be coming into his own.”
Lee glanced over at Marvin as they passed. Marvin gave a small wave, but Lee turned back to his listeners without any sign of recognition. Marvin saw Stevie and Amber sitting toward the edge of the smelly crowd, clearly not happy with their place in the world. They ignored Lee and talked quietly to each other.
Fatima and Marvin sat near the front, close to the stage that took up one wall. Once the crowd filled in, recorded music began to play, signaling the start of the show. The troupe’s players march
ed out on stage, dressed in black pants and turtlenecks and white gloves. They skulked around the front of the room, doing an interpretive “Vampire Dance,” before finally breaking into song:
Stop, drop, and roll.
Stop, drop, and roll.
Protect your neck;
Protect your soul.
Stop, drop, and roll.
Stop, drop, and roll.
Don’t let him put
You into a hole!
They danced around some more, actors alternately playing the parts of the Elephant Vampire or his victims, some of whom panicked and were “killed,” while others confidently followed the song’s instructions and rolled away to safety. They sang a few more verses before belting out the final chorus:
If you see the Elephant Vampire, what do you do?
Stop, drop, and roll—that’ll save you!
Stop, drop, and roll—
THAT … WILL … SAAA-AAAVE …
YOUUUUUUU!!!
The troupe’s leader stepped forward. “Remember, kids,” she said, “only you can prevent Elephant Vampires!” All the actors bowed.
Everyone applauded, and then a police officer stepped in front of the actors and said, “Great job. Just great. Now, are there any questions?”
Several hands shot up. The officer pointed to the first student. The kid stood up and said, “My uncle Jim is an actor, and my mom says he’s a bum.”
The police officer looked to the troupe leader. “Do you want to take this one?”
She stepped forward. “Most actors I know are very kind and dedicated to their craft.”
Someone else asked the police officer, “Can you see in the dark?”
“No,” said the officer.
“Then how are you going to catch the Elephant Vampire?”
The officer rolled his eyes. “What I meant to say was, Officer Smith here can see in the dark,” he said, motioning to his partner.
The auditorium erupted into cheers.
“Can he fly?”
“Yes, Officer Smith can fly, too,” he said curtly. More cheers.
“Can we see him fly?”
“Next question,” the officer said.
“I have a question,” Fatima said, standing up. “How in the world will stopping, dropping, and rolling protect us from a killer—or killers”—she squinted sideways at Marvin—“that could take down a six-ton bull elephant?”
“Let me answer your question by asking you another question,” the officer said. “Do you think that this big, stumpy-legged elephant could stop, drop, and roll?”
Fatima thought about it a moment. “No, probably not,” she said.
“Well, there you have it,” the officer said.
One of the actors stepped forward. “It’s very difficult for a vampire to bite your neck if you’re rolling on the ground,” he said. “Believe me, we tried it.”
“Plus, if you’re on fire, it will put the flames out,” said the assistant fire chief.
“Why would I be on fire?” Fatima asked.
The fire chief shrugged. “You’d be surprised how often it happens to me.”
Marvin raised his hand. “How do we know the Elephant Vampire is even real?” he asked. “I mean, no one’s even seen him.”
The police officer frowned. “Well, then how do you explain what happened to Big ’Un?”
“I don’t know,” Marvin said, “but just because an elephant died doesn’t mean an Elephant Vampire killed him. I mean, an Elephant Vampire sounds like something out of one of those crazy tabloids with stories about UFOs and bigfoot.” Fatima shot Marvin a dirty look. “It could be some sort of spontaneous dehydration problem. Animals are mostly water, you know, and those elephants do eat a lot of peanuts.”
“I say we listen to him,” a voice called out from the back of the room. Marvin turned and saw that it was his cousin, Stevie. “After all, if anyone knows how to communicate with elephants, it’s Tarzan!”
The students—stinky and fresh-smelling alike—erupted into laughter. Stevie gave Marvin a knowing look that told his cousin he wasn’t out of the game yet.
The principal, Evander “E-Man” Calypso, stepped out in front of the crowd, waving his hands for quiet. He was a big man, a former linebacker who had gone into education after he retired from professional football. “Okay, everyone,” he said. “The E-Man thinks we should give a big round of applause to all of our performers and first responders.” Everyone clapped enthusiastically. “Now, the E-Man knows you all want to do your part to help catch the Elephant Vampire, but the school board, mayor, and police commissioner have decided it would be best if everyone stayed indoors and out of the way. Therefore, we’re canceling all Harvest Festival activities next weekend, including the bonfire, the parade, the fair, and the school dance.”
The applause died, quickly replaced with shouts of dismay from the students. All except for Marvin.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Marvin said. Fatima scowled but said nothing.
In the Odoriferous Needs section, Amber Bluestone got to her feet. “You can’t cancel the dance,” she shouted. “I have to be queen!”
“Queen of what?” someone shouted. “Queen of the landfill?” A few chuckles broke out in response.
Stevie stood and stared directly at the principal. “I have the best minds on three continents flying in to treat my … condition,” Stevie said. “A perfumer from Paris, a chemical-warfare expert, and a Nobel-winning zoologist who is the authority on skunks. I will be ready for the dance, and I will claim my crown.”
The principal calmly shook his head. “The E-Man is sorry, but the decision is final, and—”
Little Stevie pointed an angry finger at the principal. “I’ll have your job, you hack!”
The E-Man, though he stood over six feet tall, shrank somewhat in the face of Stevie’s anger. He stuttered out, “The, uh, the E-Man understands you might be disappointed. But the E-Man thought that, instead of singing songs at a bonfire, watching a parade, eating cotton candy, and going out dancing with your friends, maybe you might enjoy staying inside and reading these free safety comics!” The principal reached into a cardboard box behind him and threw handfuls of comic books into the crowd. The children reacted with excitement, until they saw the titles.
The children grumbled their general discontent. “This … this is a travesty,” Marvin said, staring at the Fearless Phil comic book in his hands. He couldn’t believe that his hero had been reduced to telling stupid children not to stick forks into electrical outlets.
“What do any of these comic books have to do with the current crisis?” Fatima asked, waving a copy of Cautious Kitty.
“A little caution never hurt anyone,” the police officer said. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
She furrowed her brow. “Well, yes, but—”
“That’s enough questions for today,” said the E-Man. The assistant fire chief waved to him, and the principal nodded and winked. “And one final announcement from the fire department before you’re dismissed.”
The assistant fire chief stepped forward, taking his hat off and running a hand over his close-shaved gray hair. “Kids, I’m gonna talk straight to you,” he said. “Once you’re past the age of seven, there’s no more time for foolin’ around. I know a bunch of you out there think you’re pretty funny. Well guess what? We don’t have time for pranksters and jokers. That’s why, after the other day’s little stunt in the science lab, we refurbished all the fire alarms in this building with an explosive dye pack. I want you to know that your actions have consequences. You pull one of those fire alarms, you’re gettin’ a face full of blue. You WILL be caught. And we WILL come down on you. Hard. Think you can hide from me? That blue dye never washes off. I’ll see your blue face at school, at the mall, when you’re eating your pizza pie!”
One of the kids called out, “But what if there’s an actual fire?”
The fireman whirled on him. “I said we don’t have time for pranksters, and we don’t have t
ime for smart alecks, either!”
“That will be all,” the principal said. “Dismissed.”
Marvin turned to Fatima. “Huh,” he said, standing up to leave. “Explosive dye packs?”
Fatima dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “Pfft. That’s nonsense. Didn’t you see that wink from the principal? They’re just spreading some urban legend so that everyone will be too afraid to pull the fire alarms.”
“At least the Harvest Dance is canceled,” Marvin said. “Now we don’t have to go through that whole charade.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re glad you don’t have to go to the dance with me,” Fatima said, her face dark.
Marvin stared at her for a moment. “Now that I think about it,” he said, “if there’s no dance that night …” He trailed off and raised an expectant eyebrow at her.
“Yes, Marvin?” Fatima asked, excited.
“Do you think I can get my money back on the tickets?”
Fatima huffed in frustration and stormed out of the cafetorium, leaving Marvin alone with his thoughts.
He was somewhat frustrated that she hadn’t answered his question.
Two weeks had passed since the death of Big ’Un, and the level of tension in the town was growing greater every day. The authorities still had no leads on the whereabouts of the Elephant Vampire, and public outrage over city hall’s ineffective leadership was nearing the breaking point.
At home, Marvin was trying to make the best of life with his new roommates. He was not used to such close quarters, particularly when the roommates were so large, hairy, and inhuman. Also, they never stopped watching the round-the-clock TV news coverage about the Elephant Vampire situation, which made it hard for Marvin to concentrate on his homework.
At every hour of the day, the stations had breaking news reports about the Elephant Vampire panic; most had discontinued all regular programming. Channel 7 began each ten-minute news block with an animated title that swooshed on-screen. A scary vampire head appeared, the mouth opening wide to reveal oversize fangs. Then, the camera zoomed in tight on the upper fangs, which morphed into large letter Vs. Finally, the full title appeared: “CRISIS: VAMPIRE VATCH IN THE ’VILLE,” backed by Stars and Stripes graphics in red, white, and blue.
Marvin and the Moths Page 10
