06 - Let's Get Invisible!

by R. L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)

  But something about her smile was different.

  Something.

  But what?

  I pulled the string. Zack vanished in the flash of bright light.

  “Return of the Invisible Man!” he cried in a deep voice.

  “Not so loud,” I warned him. “My mom’ll hear you downstairs.”

  Erin had lowered herself to the floor beside April. I walked over and stood over her. “You sure you’re okay?” I asked. “You don’t feel dizzy or weird or anything?”

  She shook her head. “No. Really. Why don’t you believe me, Max?”

  As I stared down at her, I tried to figure out what was different about her appearance. What a mystery! I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

  “Well, how come you didn’t answer when I called you?” I demanded.

  “Huh?” Her face filled with surprise. “When?”

  “At about twelve minutes,” I told her. “I called you and Zack called you. But you didn’t answer us.”

  Erin’s expression turned thoughtful. “I guess I didn’t hear you,” she replied finally. “But I’m fine, Max. Really. I feel great. It was really awesome.”

  I joined them on the floor and leaned back against the wall to wait for Zack’s turn to be over. “I really mean it. Don’t turn off the light till fifteen minutes,” he reminded me.

  Then he messed up my hair, making it stand straight up in the air.

  Both girls laughed.

  I had to get up, walk over to the mirror, and comb it back down. I don’t know why people think messed-up hair is such a riot. I really don’t get it.

  “Hey, follow me. I’ve got an idea,” Zack said. His voice was coming from the doorway.

  “Whoa—hold on!” I called. But I could hear his sneakers clomping across the attic.

  “Follow me outside,” he called to us. We heard his footsteps on the attic stairs.

  “Zack—don’t do it,” I pleaded. “Whatever it is, don’t do it!”

  But there was no way he was going to listen to me.

  A few seconds later, we were out the back door, following our invisible friend toward our neighbor Mr. Evander’s back yard.

  This is going to be trouble, I thought unhappily. Big trouble.

  Erin, April, and I hid behind the hedge that separated our two yards. As usual, Mr. Evander was out in his tomato garden, stooped over, pulling up weeds, his big belly hanging out under his T-shirt, his red bald head shiny under the sun.

  What is Zack going to do? I wondered, holding my breath, my whole body heavy with dread.

  And then I saw three tomatoes float up from the ground. They hovered in the air, then floated closer to Mr. Evander.

  Oh, no, I thought, groaning silently to myself.

  Please, Zack. Please don’t do it.

  Erin, April, and I were huddled together behind the hedge, staring in disbelief as the three tomatoes began to circle each other rapidly in the air.

  Invisible Zack was juggling them. Showing off, as usual. He was always bragging about how he could juggle, and we couldn’t.

  It took a while for Mr. Evander to notice.

  But when he finally saw the three tomatoes spinning around in midair a few feet in front of him, his eyes bugged out and his face turned as red as the tomatoes!

  “Oh!” he cried. He let the weeds fall from his hands. And then he just stared at the spinning tomatoes, like he was frozen.

  Zack tossed the tomatoes higher as he juggled.

  April and Erin held hands over their mouths to stifle their laughter. They thought Zack’s stunt was a real hoot. But I just wanted to get Zack back up to the attic.

  “Hey, Mary! Mary!” Mr. Evander started calling to his wife. “Mary—come out here! You’ve got to see this! Mary!”

  A few seconds later, his wife came running across the yard, a frightened expression on her face. “Mike, what’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

  “Look—these tomatoes are twirling in the air!” Mr. Evander cried, motioning wildly for her to hurry.

  Zack let the tomatoes fall to the ground.

  “Where?” Mrs. Evander asked breathlessly, running as fast as she could.

  “There. Look!” Mr. Evander pointed.

  “I don’t see any tomatoes,” Mrs. Evander said, stopping in front of her husband, panting loudly.

  “Yes! They’re spinning. They’re—”

  “Those tomatoes?” Mrs. Evander asked, pointing to the three tomatoes on the ground.

  “Well… yes. They were twirling around, and—” Looking terribly confused, Mr. Evander scratched the back of his neck.

  “Mike, how long have you been out in the sun?” his wife scolded. “Didn’t I tell you to wear a cap?”

  “Uh… I’ll be in in a few minutes,” Mr. Evander said softly, staring down at the tomatoes.

  As soon as Mrs. Evander turned and headed back to the house, the three tomatoes floated up from the ground and began twirling in the air again.

  “Mary, look!” Mr. Evander shouted excitedly. “Look—quick! They’re doing it again!”

  Zack let the tomatoes drop to the ground.

  Mrs. Evander spun around and stared into empty space. “Mike, you’d better come with me—right now,” she insisted. She hurried back, grabbed Mr. Evander by the arm, and pulled him away. The poor man looked totally bewildered, staring at the tomatoes on the ground, still scratching the back of his neck as his wife pulled him to the house.

  “Hey, this is awesome!” Zack cried, right in front of me.

  Erin and April collapsed in wild giggles. I had to admit it was pretty funny. We laughed about it for a while. Then we sneaked back into the house and up to the attic.

  In the safety of the little room, we laughed some more about Zack’s juggling stunt. Zack bragged that he was the world’s first invisible juggler.

  Then, at twelve minutes, Zack suddenly stopped answering us.

  Just as Erin had.

  The three of us called his name over and over.

  Silence.

  Zack didn’t reply.

  “I’m going to bring him back,” I said, instantly gripped with fear once again. I ran to the string.

  “Wait,” Erin said, holding me back.

  “Huh? What for?” I pulled away from her.

  “He said to wait till fifteen minutes, remember?” she argued.

  “Erin, he’s completely disappeared!” I cried.

  “But he’ll be really mad,” Erin pleaded.

  “I say bring him back,” April said anxiously.

  “Give him until fifteen minutes,” Erin insisted.

  “No,” I said. I pulled the string.

  The light clicked off.

  A few minutes later, Zack flickered back. He smiled at us. “How long?” he asked, turning to April.

  “Thirteen minutes, twenty seconds,” she told him.

  His grin widened. “The new champ!”

  “You’re okay? You didn’t answer us,” I said, studying his face.

  “I’m fine. I didn’t hear you calling me. But I’m fine.”

  Zack looked different to me, too. Something was very different about him. But what?

  “What’s your problem, Max?” he demanded. “Why are you staring at me like I’m some kind of alien life-form or something?”

  “Your hair,” I said, studying him. “Was it like that before?”

  “Huh? What are you talking about? Are you freaking out or something?” Zack asked, rolling his eyes.

  “Was your hair like that before?” I repeated. “Buzzed real short on the right and then combed long to the left? Wasn’t it the other way around?”

  “You’re messed up, Max,” he said, grinning at Erin and April. “My hair is the same it’s always been. You’ve been staring in that mirror too long or something.”

  I could’ve sworn his hair had been short on the left, long on the right. But I guess Zack would know his own hair.

  “Are you going to go?” Erin asked, jumping up beh
ind me.

  “Yeah, are you going to beat fifteen minutes?” Zack asked.

  I shook my head. “No, I really don’t feel like it,” I told them truthfully. “Let’s declare Zack the winner and get out of here.”

  “No way!” Zack and Erin declared in unison.

  “You’ve got to try,” Zack insisted.

  “Don’t wimp out, Max. You can beat Zack. I know you can,” Erin declared.

  She and Zack both pushed me up to the mirror.

  I tried to pull back. But they practically held me in place.

  “No. Really,” I said. “Zack can be the winner. I—”

  “Go for it, Max!” Erin urged. “I’m betting on you!”

  “Yeah. Go for it,” Zack repeated, his hand firmly on my shoulder.

  “No. Please—” I said.

  But Zack reached up with his free hand and pulled the string.

  21

  I stared into the mirror for a moment, waiting for the glare to fade from my eyes. It was always such a shock. That first moment, when your reflection disappeared. When you stared at the spot where you knew you were standing—and realized you were looking right through yourself!

  “How do you feel, Max? How do you feel?” Erin asked, imitating me.

  “Erin, what’s your problem?” I snapped. It wasn’t like her to be so sarcastic.

  “Just giving you a taste of your own medicine,” she replied, grinning.

  Something about her smile was lopsided, not normal.

  “Think you can beat my record?” Zack demanded.

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” I replied uncertainly.

  Zack stepped up to the mirror and studied his reflection. I had the strangest feeling as I watched him. I can’t really explain it. I’d never seen Zack stand in just that position and admire himself in just that way.

  Something was different. I knew it. But I couldn’t figure out what.

  Maybe it’s just my nervousness, I told myself.

  I’m just so stressed out. Maybe it’s affecting the way I look at my friends. Maybe I’m making all this up.

  “Two minutes,” April announced.

  “Are you just going to stand there?” Erin asked, staring into the mirror. “Aren’t you going to move around or anything, Max?”

  “No. I don’t think so,” I said. “I mean, I can’t think of anything I want to do. I’m just going to wait till the time is up.”

  “You want to quit now?” Zack asked, grinning at the spot where he thought I was standing.

  I shook my head. Then I remembered that no one could see it. “No. I might as well go the distance,” I told him. “Since I’m here, I might as well make you look bad, Zack.”

  He laughed scornfully. “You won’t beat thirteen-twenty,” he said confidently. “No way.”

  “Well, you know what?” I said, angered by his smug tone of voice. “I’m just going to stand here until I do.”

  And that’s what I did. I stood in place, leaning against the mirror frame, while April counted off the minutes.

  I did okay until a short while after she had called out eleven minutes. Then, suddenly, the glare of the light began to hurt my eyes.

  I closed my eyes, but it didn’t help. The light grew brighter, harsher. It seemed to sweep around me, surround me, fold over me.

  And then I began to feel dizzy and light. As if I were about to float away, even though I knew I was standing in place.

  “Hey, guys?” I called out. “I think I’ve had enough.”

  My voice sounded tiny and far away, even to me.

  The light swirled around me. I felt myself grow lighter, lighter, until I had to struggle to keep my feet on the floor to keep from floating away.

  I uttered a high-pitched cry. I was suddenly gripped by panic.

  Cold panic.

  “Zack—bring me back!” I shouted.

  “Okay, Max. No problem,” I heard Zack reply.

  He seemed miles and miles away.

  I struggled to see him through the blinding yellow light. He was a dark figure behind the wall of light, a dark figure moving quickly to the mirror.

  “I’m bringing you back now, Max. Hold on,” I heard Zack say.

  The bright light glowed even brighter. It hurt so much. Even with my eyes closed, it hurt.

  “Zack, pull the string!” I shouted.

  I opened my eyes to see his dim shadow reaching up to the string.

  Pull it, pull it, pull it! I urged silently.

  I knew that in a second, the light would go off. And I’d be safe.

  A second.

  One tug of the string.

  Pull it, pull it, pull it, Zack!

  Zack reached for the string. I saw him grab it.

  And then I heard another voice in the room. A new voice. A surprised voice.

  “Hi. What’s going on up here? What are you kids doing?”

  I saw the shadowy figure of Zack drop the string and step away without pulling it.

  My mom had burst into the room.

  22

  “Please—pull the string!” I called.

  No one seemed to hear me.

  “We’re just hanging out,” I heard Zack tell my mom.

  “But where’s Max?” I heard her ask. “How did you find this little room? What are you all doing in here?” Her voice sounded as if it were coming from underwater, far, far away.

  The entire room began to shimmer in the light, flickering on and off. I held on tightly to the frame of the mirror, struggling not to float away.

  “Can you hear me?” I called. “Please, somebody—pull the string! Bring me back!”

  They were just gray shadows in the wavering, rolling light. They didn’t seem to hear me.

  Gripping the frame tightly, I saw a shadow approach the mirror. My mom. She walked around it, admiring it.

  “I can’t believe we never knew about this room. Where did this old mirror come from?” I heard her ask.

  She was standing so close to me. They all were.

  They were so close and so far away at the same time.

  “Please bring me back!” I shouted.

  I listened for an answer. But the voices faded away.

  The shadows moved in a flickering blur. I tried to reach out to them, but they were too far away.

  I let go of the mirror frame and began to float.

  “Mom, I’m right here. Can’t you hear me? Can’t you do anything?”

  So light, so completely weightless, I floated in front of the mirror.

  My feet were off the floor. I couldn’t see them in the blinding glare.

  I floated to the mirror glass, under the light.

  I could feel the light pull me closer. Closer.

  Until it pulled me right into the mirror.

  I knew I was inside the mirror. Inside a glistening blur of colors. The shapes shimmered and rolled together as if underwater.

  And I floated through the glimmering shards of light and color, floated silently away from my friends, away from my mom, floated away from the tiny attic room.

  Into the center of the mirror.

  Into the center of an undulating, rolling world of twisting lights and colors.

  “Help me!” I cried.

  But my voice was muffled by the blurred, shifting colors.

  “Bring me back! Get me back!”

  Floating deeper into this glimmering world, I could barely hear myself.

  Deeper into the mirror. And still deeper.

  The colors gave way to shapes of gray and black. It was cold here. Cold as glass.

  And as I floated deeper, deeper, the grays and blacks faded, too. The world was white now. Pure white all around. Shadowless white as far as I could see.

  I stared straight ahead, no longer calling out, too frightened to call out, too mystified by the cold, ivory world I had entered.

  “Hello, Max,” a familiar voice said.

  “Ohh!” I cried out, realizing I was not alone.

  23

/>   A scream of terror escaped my lips. I tried to form words, but my brain seemed to be paralyzed.

  The figure approached quickly, silently, through the cold, white world of the mirror. He smiled at me, an eerie, familiar smile.

  “You!” I managed to scream.

  He stopped inches away from me.

  I stared at him in disbelief.

  I was staring at myself. Me. Smiling back at me. The smile as cold as the glass that surrounded us.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I’m your reflection.”

  “No!”

  His eyes—my eyes—studied me hungrily, like a dog staring at a meaty bone. His smile grew wider as I cried out my fear.

  “I’ve been waiting here for you,” my reflection said, his eyes locked on mine.

  “No!” I repeated.

  I turned away.

  I knew I had to get away.

  I started to run.

  But I stopped short when I saw the faces in front of me. Distorted, unhappy faces, dozens of them, fun house mirror faces, with enormous, drooping eyes, and tiny mouths tight with sadness.

  The faces seemed to hover just ahead of me. The gaping eyes staring at me, the tiny mouths moving rapidly as if calling to me, warning me, telling me to get away.

  Who were these people, these faces?

  Why were they inside the mirror with me?

  Why did their distorted, twisted images reveal so much sadness, so much pain?

  “No!”

  I gasped as I thought I recognized two of the floating faces, their mouths working furiously, their eyebrows rising wildly up and down.

  Erin and Zack?

  No.

  That was impossible, wasn’t it?

  I stared hard at them. Why were they talking so frantically? What were they trying to tell me?

  “Help me!” I called. But they didn’t seem to hear me.

  The faces, dozens of them, bobbed and floated.

  “Help me—please!”

  And then I felt myself being spun around. I stared into the eyes of my reflection as he gripped my shoulders and held me in place.

  “You’re not leaving,” he told me. His quiet voice echoed through the clear stillness, icicles scratching against glass.

  I struggled to free myself, but his grip was strong.