“We’re here.” She smiled.
The pet tracker paw had stopped us in front of a two-level house with white wood paneling. All the lights in the windows were on, and the rumble of hip-hop thrummed from inside.
“Is this where it lives?” I asked. Call me crazy, but I was expecting the Toadies’ hideout to be a little spookier.
“Don’t think so,” grunted Liz as she parked the moped behind a nearby car.
As we snuck toward the house, I studied the address painted in cheery, red cursive on the mailbox. Why did I know this address?
Liz yanked me down below a window, where she was crouching in the dirt behind a thorny rosebush. “You want to give away our position?” she whispered angrily.
She carefully switched her cell phone to video camera mode. She slowly raised it like a periscope to the window.
“You play a lot of Call of Duty, don’t you?” I whispered. Liz didn’t laugh. I didn’t expect her to; at this point, I was just trying to amuse myself.
Now that we were closer to the house, the music was louder. There was roaring laughter and the sound of a stereo blasting inside. The thump-thump of the bass radiated through the walls.
At least the Toadies have good taste in music, I thought.
Liz checked the video she had just recorded. She looked confused.
“What is it?” I asked. “Some kind of Toadie rave?”
“You sure you read the tracker right?” Liz said.
“You saw it for yourself,” I said. “Toadie’s right here. Why, what’s wrong?”
She tossed me her phone. The video showed a living room cluttered with Coke cans and pizza boxes and a couch packed with boys jumping up and down while kids danced in the background. Not exactly the den of monsters I expected.
Then I recognized one of the boys.
“Jesper?” I exclaimed.
“Shhh!” said Liz.
“This is Jesper’s house,” I said.
“Well, the tracker says the Toadie’s right here. So we have to check it out,” said Liz as she waddled low around the house to get a better view from another window.
I froze with a sudden realization.
Victor might be here.
I looked down at my clothes. My puffy green jacket was caked with trash juice, leaves were stuck in my frizzed-out hair, my sneakers were soggy, and the knees on my jeans were soaked with mud.
Suddenly, I wasn’t afraid of monsters. I was afraid of being seen by my crush, covered in dirt and sweat, with some deranged blue-haired teenager. Liz was already at the kitchen window, poking her head up to have a look inside.
“You don’t understand,” I said, crouching behind Liz. “Jesper goes to my school. Everyone here goes to my school.”
“I care,” she said flatly. Then she perked up and asked, “Are his parents home?”
“No,” I said, realizing with horror. “That’s why he’s having a party.”
A kid alone is a kid in danger.
I gnawed on the cuff of my brown sweater while Liz slipped around the back of the house and began to open the screen door.
“Wait!” I begged, closing the door. “Look. There’s a ninety to a hundred percent chance my crush might be in there, and I’m covered in dirt and leaves, and I wore this exact same stupid brown sweater to school today.”
I gave Liz my best “I know you understand this” look. She crossed her arms and hawked a loogie.
“You’re not one of those annoying wanna-be popular types are you?” she asked, wiping her chin.
“No. Actually, I’m an Invisible,” I said, stepping away from her gross spittle. “Y’know.” I shrugged. “I don’t stand out, no one notices me. Invisible.”
“You willingly call yourself that?” she asked.
I was about to answer yes when I stopped. I had never actually called myself an Invisible out loud. It felt awful.
“That is sad,” she said, pushing past me.
I can’t say I didn’t agree with her.
Liz pointed to a large princess play set in the dark corner of the backyard. “What do you make of that?”
“Jesper has weird taste in toys?” I guessed.
“Or?” she said, circling her hand at me.
“Or he has a little sister,” I said, snapping my fingers.
“Bingo,” Liz said. “And where there’s kids, there’s monsters.”
Liz boldly walked to the screen door. I followed so closely that I was hiding behind her. Her hand held the doorknob.
“Look, I get it,” she said. “You’re a huge dork.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“You’re afraid. It happens. Not to me, but it happens. But if we’re going to get through this, you gotta grab your fear by the horns and punch it in the face until you own it.”
“I’ve never punched anything in my life,” I said quietly.
“It’s easy. Watch.”
Liz sprang into the middle of the backyard and snapped into a tense fighting stance. I jumped back, worried she was going to demonstrate how to kill a monster on me. Fists coiled, elbows raised, she hopped from one foot to the other.
“Feet shoulder width apart. Left fist blocks your face, right fist pulls back. Use your whole body to create the power behind the punch. Find your center, step, spin, duck, weave, twist, and KEEEYIII!”
Her arms and legs waved and exploded into a mixture of what I can only guess was jujitsu and kung fu. Her right fist hurled through the air so fast that the zipper on the end of her sleeve whistled.
Then she bowed. “That’s called the Monster Heart Breaker. Most powerful move a babysitter can do.”
A whirl of excitement and curiosity detonated inside me.
Liz laughed. “Kelly, I’m messing with you. It took me three years just to learn the first three steps.”
I shrugged her off and spread my feet shoulder width apart, balling up my fists. A vision of Liz doing the punch played in my mind. Sneakers bobbing up and down, like there was a movie in superslow motion. I saw my arms and legs moving in sync with Liz’s arms and legs. Suddenly, the night sky brightened, like I was wearing night-vision goggles.
I guess it was the nerves of possibly seeing Victor combined with the horror of losing Jacob, but I felt everything in me wind up, coiling like a rubber band about to snap.
My whole body shot forward with my fist leading the charge. My knuckles crashed into the princess play set.
BOOM, BABY!
The pink kingdom shattered across the lawn.
“Ow!” I cried, holding my fist and rubbing it.
I kissed my swollen, scratched knuckles and saw that Liz’s jaw was hanging open in shock at the supreme damage I had done to the play set. She made a confused face and spun around to the party, tightening the straps on her backpack.
I rubbed my hand. What the pasta primavera was going on with me? The mind-moves? The night vision? And that punch? What is up, K-Ferg?
Ignoring the throbbing pain in my hand, I threw back my shoulders, lifted my head up, and marched into the craziest party in eighth-grade history.
19
The dark kitchen walls were streaked with splotches of cupcake frosting and pizza sauce. The trash can was overflowing with soda cans. The sink, clogged by a Barbie doll, was filled with murky water that was dripping onto the floor.
In the jam-packed living room, a gathering of cackling boys stood around a yellow Slip’N Slide covered in what appeared to be olive oil. Jesper Tanaka, wearing ski goggles, a grass skirt, a Hawaiian shirt, and the wild look of a boy from Lord of the Flies, ran and dove onto the Slip’N Slide at full speed.
WHOOSH, THUMP!
His buddies gave Jesper’s run seven thumbs-up, one thumbs-down. Jesper bowed, slicked oil from his hair, and caught sight of Liz.
“Aloha, Shorty. Aaaaw, yeah,” said Jesper in a raspy voice that sounded like he had been screaming at the top of his lungs for the past five hours. He danced up to Liz and removed his ski goggles. I saw the
muscles in Liz’s jaw flexing in growing anger. I gave Jesper a little hello wave. He stared at me, perplexed at the flushed redhead. “Oh, it’s—it’s you,” he said. “Hey, you.”
I sighed. “Hey, you” is code for “Hey, person whose name I don’t remember.”
Jesper’s friends rushed up to his side. I recognized them as the soccer team guys who all sat together in the cafeteria during lunch. Victor’s friends. But there was no Victor. I was relieved he wasn’t with them, but I was also a little let down. As much as I didn’t want to see him, well, I wanted to see him.
The boys’ eyes were focused intently on us. Liz, specifically. They were clearly in awe of seeing a high schooler in their midst, especially one who looked like her.
“Who are you?” Kent said, flipping his preppy bangs out of his eyes.
“Friend of Kelly’s,” Liz said, looking through them. Her head was swiveling around the house, scoping for the Toadie.
“Who?” said Kent.
I tried to melt into the shadows, but Liz snatched me by my brown sweater and pulled me to her side.
“Oh, right. Yeah. Kelly. You go to our school?”
I nodded and died a little on the inside. It was true. I was an Invisible. The thought made me stare down at the scuffs on my sneakers.
“Ooooh. Yeah. Kelly. Hey!” all the boys said in unison, hoping to impress Liz.
“You guys see anything weird tonight?” I managed.
“I saw Jesper’s mom’s underwear drawer,” giggled one of the Soccer Buddies.
“Dude, I told you not to go in there!” Jesper said, shoving the laughing boys.
“Middle schoolers,” Liz groaned, and pushed her way beyond them, farther into the darkened house. I followed after her, making sure to keep my distance from Deanna, who was dressed like a really pretty but kind of confusing mix of a devil, a cat, an angel, and a pixie. She was holding court with the Princess Pack and three guys who were all dressed like the Incredible Hulk.
“Great abs trump everything,” I heard Deanna inform the group. “I mean, it’s sad that our society has such a superficial standard of beauty, but it’s true.” Deanna jabbed her index finger into the palm of her hand to show she really and truly believed this. “Abs are the most important thing in the world; I mean, you guys get it.”
Everyone around her nodded in total agreement. Abs were indeed everything. “Surprise, surprise, bucket of fries!” Deanna purred, turning her full attention on me. “Kelly Ferguson came to a party.” She looked me up and down and then cocked her head to the side. “And she’s wearing the exact same brown sweater she wore to school,” she announced to the cool kids.
“Buh-rave,” confirmed one of her pack.
“Yeah, I figured I’d go meta for Halloween and be me,” I mumbled.
“But like the bedraggled version?” Deanna laughed. “Are you like one of those survival guys who climbs mountains and drinks their own pee?”
I forced a laugh. Bursts of blinding light erupted around the living room. Kids’ camera flashes cast twitching shadows on the wall. The music switched to a crazy-making pop song.
“Aren’t you supposed to be babysitting?” Deanna asked.
“Actually, I am,” I said, with a little grit in my voice.
“That would explain the general sadness,” Deanna said snarkily, waving her hand around me. “So where’s your baby?”
Liz came to my side. “Monsters took him,” she growled.
“Oh! Two sitters for the price of one.” Deanna chuckled to the Princess Pack. “So you’re like a goth-punk-rock-sad-person-at-the-end-of-the-world kind of thing, am I right?”
I saw the veins bulge and throb on the side of Liz’s neck. Her fingers coiled into a fist. Having Liz beside me felt like I had an eight-hundred-pound gorilla with me. I stood up a little straighter and smiled at Deanna. Some dark part of me would love to have watched Liz pummel Deanna, but we had work to do.
Liz kept her eyes locked on Deanna as we walked away down a hall kaleidoscoped with shadows. A handwritten “Keep Out” sign was taped on a closed door.
Liz grabbed Jesper, who was following us—specifically Liz. “What’s in there?”
Jesper hopped to Liz’s side, happy to help. “That is the basement,” he said. “The deal with my parents going away is I can have some peeps over as long as I look after my little sister. She’s four, but she’s super whack,” Jesper said, leaning against the wall with his elbow. “Kids. What are you going to do?”
“She have any friends down there?” Liz asked.
“No. Just her bestie, the TV.”
I shot Liz a knowing look. She nodded. A kid alone is a kid in danger.
We made our way toward the door, but someone slammed into me, spilling a wave of soda onto my jacket.
“¡Estúpido!” Victor said, wiping Dr Pepper off his jeans.
My feet glued to the floor. My knees turned to water.
“Victor!” I shouted louder than I should have.
“¡Voseo! Kelly!” Victor exclaimed. He was wearing a black vest and a T-shirt and a fake parrot on his shoulder. He had a curly mustache drawn over his top lip. He was a pirate; a really handsome pirate with a shocked smile on his face.
“Lo siento. I did not see you,” he said, digging into his pockets for a napkin. He began furiously swiping the napkin across my slime-green jacket. I stopped breathing. I just stood there with a million thoughts rushing through my head.
There may or may not be a goblin devouring your friend’s little sister at the moment, but your eyes are so dark and dreamy that I seemed to have lost sight of my objective for coming here.
“Uh. It’s okay,” I said, waving my hand at my jacket. “My jacket’s not only hideous, it’s also waterproof.”
He looked at me for a confused moment and then laughed. My cheeks burned. I flattened the spirals of red curls leaping from my forehead.
“Ferguson,” said Liz, opening up the basement door. “We gotta go.”
With a huge, goofy smile on my face, I looked at Liz. “Liz. This is Victor. Victor,” I said, trying to gesture with my face that this was the future love of my life.
“Basement. Now,” Liz demanded.
I looked at the stairs and imagined all the horrors happening down there. One of the soccer guys flickered the lights on and off, making a distracting strobe-light effect around the party.
“Everything okay?” Victor asked.
“Oh, yeah!” I sang nervously. “Everything is awesoooome!”
I danced in place and pointed to the ceiling, as if I were raising the roof. Victor’s forehead crinkled in confusion. Liz shot me a “what are you doing?” expression. I took a deep breath and steadied myself.
“Be right back,” I said, sighing.
Resigned to my fate, I ducked down the dark stairs behind Liz. I wanted to reach out for Victor, like we were saying good-bye in a train station in an old black-and-white movie, but Liz shut the door closed behind us.
“That was my crush!” I whispered. “I totally blew it.”
“I’ve seen worse,” said Liz, flicking her hand. “And by ‘worse,’ I mean zombies eating people’s brains. Now focus.”
Liz showed me the pet tracker. “Toadie’s here.”
As we descended the carpeted stairs, I heard the faint sound of chewing and crunching coming from the depths of the basement.
20
The chilly, vast basement was decorated like a pink palace. Unicorns dangled from the ceiling. A regiment of Barbie dolls leered at us from their dollhouse.
In the center of the room sat Penny Tanaka, wearing pink striped pajamas and a crooked, broken tiara that had been fixed with duct tape. She was noisily eating a bowl of cereal, lying on a bed of tassel-edged pillows, singing along with Frozen for what must have been the zillionth time.
We perched on the last step and looked around at the toys and plastic furniture, tea set and bookshelves.
“Where is it?” I whispered.
“Hiding,” she whispered, showing me the tracker. “But it’s here.”
“Shh!” said little Penny, without looking away from the TV.
“Ohmygosh!” said Liz in a bright, cheerful voice. “We looooove this movie. Can we watch with you, pleeeeease?”
Penny studied us a moment. She nodded with a quick smile.
“Super doo! Thanks. I’m Liz, that’s Kelly,” said Liz as she sat on a pillow and gestured for me to sit down beside her.
“I’m Penny,” said the little girl.
Liz held out her hand, the little girl shook it, and Liz sang along to the movie with giddy glee. She rocked back and forth on the pillow, holding her ankles and keeping time with the song. I glanced down at the tracker and saw the paw dot was right where we were sitting.
The large wooden bookshelf rocked slightly. A book tumbled off the shelf, pages flapping. The hairs on my arms prickled.
A round lump rose under the blue carpet, like a swell in the ocean. It was the Toadie. It had come up from a tunnel under the basement and found itself sealed under the carpet, searching for a way out. I wanted to step on it like a bug, but if it knew where Jacob was, then we needed it alive.
The bump in the rug knocked into tea table chairs, tipping them aside. Little teacups and plastic dishes rattled as the table leg was knocked from below.
The bump shook with the distinct, angry, muffled grumble of Snaggle, the Toadie we’d let get away.
I watched in quiet horror as the little monster scuttled toward the laundry room in the far corner of the basement. The Toadie scurried out from under the carpet onto the floor of the laundry room.
Liz leaned over to me and whispered, “Get the Toadie. I’ll protect the kid.”
“What?!” I tried to whisper but it came out like a shout.
In her most bright and excited voice (with a hint of nerves), Liz chirped, “Hey, Penny! Let’s go play upstairs.”
“No thanks,” replied Penny, eyes glued to the TV.
A Babysitter's Guide to Monster Hunting #1 Page 9
