Attack of the Vampire Weenies

by David Lubar

  Janet ran the rest of the way home. Before she got there, she saw a third T form in the clouds. This could definitely be the most important message in her whole life, but only if she managed to figure it out.

  When she got home, she went straight to the living room and looked in the bookcase. But the dictionary wasn’t there. Janet ran into the kitchen. “Mom, where’s the dictionary?”

  “I think it’s in your brother’s room,” her mom said. “But what’s the rush? Sit down and relax for a minute. Come on.” She held up a box that said ORANGE-LEMON SPICE. “Join me for a nice, quiet cup of tea.”

  “No time,” Janet said.

  “No time for a nice, relaxing cup of tea?” her mom asked.

  “Maybe later,” Janet said. Right now, she had to find the answer to that mysterious message from the clouds. What was the meaning of that letter? She ran out of the kitchen and headed for the stairs. There was no way she could relax until she figured out the message.

  Behind her, the teakettle blew out a steamy cloud and whistled a high-pitched laugh.

  FAMILY TIME

  Stephen had just finished clearing the table and was about to sneak off to his room for a few hours of mindless video games when his mom snagged him with those horrible words.

  “Stephen,” she said, “it’s Thursday. You know what we do on Thursday.”

  Stephen stopped in his tracks. Here it comes, he thought.

  “Family time!” his little sister, Tiffany, shouted. “Thursday is family time,” she said through a mouth missing more than a few teeth.

  “What will it be?” his dad asked. “A board game, a word game, or a card game?”

  “Board game,” Stephen said, hoping to keep the damage to a minimum. At least he could handle something like Scrabble or Parcheesi. That would be bearable.

  “Cards!” everyone else shouted.

  “Cards it is,” his dad said. “I’ll get the deck.”

  “Can we play Crazy Eights?” Stephen asked. “That’s a fun game. Or how about Go Fish?” Please, he thought, please play something normal.

  “No!” Tiffany shouted. “I want to play double-deck wangle.”

  Stephen cringed at those words.

  “Yes, wangle,” his mother agreed.

  “Wangle it is,” his dad said, returning with two decks of cards, a pad of paper, a pencil, and a real big grin.

  “But…” Stephen’s mind frantically searched for any words, any excuses or suggestions or ideas that could stop what was about to happen. He failed.

  They sat at the table. Stephen’s dad handed the deck to Stephen’s mom. “You cut them, Betty.”

  She cut the cards. “Oh good, a seven of hearts.” She held the red-spotted card up for all to admire. She seemed pleased. “That means it’s your deal, Tiffany.”

  “Goody,” Tiffany said.

  Stephen didn’t have any idea how the seven of hearts meant that his sister got the first deal. He didn’t bother asking—he knew he wouldn’t understand the answer.

  Tiffany shuffled the double decks, then dealt out the cards. Each person got three cards facedown, then two more faceup. Then each got three more, but some were up and some were down. Stephen didn’t understand the reason for any of it.

  “I’ve got proof of trump,” his father said. “That gives me the first play.” He put down a card.

  “Reflux aggressive,” his mom said, placing three cards on the table.

  “Tribbly scoop,” Tiffany said, picking up one card from the table and putting down another.

  Stephen had sat through this scene a thousand times during family hour, and he still had no idea what was going on. He realized everyone was looking at him. He reached for one of the cards on the table.

  “Steph,” his father said, “you know you can’t borgy until there are three bleats played.”

  “Uh, yeah, sorry. I forgot.” He jerked his hand back, then tossed down a card from those he held.

  “Nice reverse triskum,” his mom said.

  Stephen relaxed slightly.

  “Come on,” Tiffany said, “a two-year-old could have made that move. He had a perfect chance for an angry fleebax with the nine of diamonds and the five of spades, but he didn’t even see it. It’s like he doesn’t even know what he’s doing.” She grinned at him, looking like some sort of Halloween pumpkin carved by a lunatic dentist.

  “Now, Tiffany, that’s not nice,” her mom said. “Your play, dear,” she said to Stephen’s dad.

  “Indeed.” He looked at the cards in his hand, then down at the cards on the table. “Got to try a navux,” he said, picking a card off the top of the deck. His face broke into a giant grin. “Well, lookee here, aren’t I lucky tonight.” He held up a three of clubs. “Triple slimper on a two-way bixley. That’s a relief. I was so sure I’d get skidinkled.” He placed the three on top of a king of diamonds that was on the table, then covered them both with a jack of diamonds.

  “Very nice, dear,” Stephen’s mom said.

  “Good play, Dad,” Tiffany told him.

  “Uh, nice move,” Stephen said. In all too short a time, it was his turn again. They all looked at him like they were expecting something special. He reached toward one of the cards on the table. Their smiles started to disappear. He pulled his hand back. They waited. He reached for one of his faceup cards. They didn’t lose their smiles. He pulled out the card and put it in the center of the table.

  “Nice royal flixum,” his mom said.

  “Thanks.” Stephen checked the clock on the wall. It was almost over. Family hour was nearly done for the week. He’d survived again.

  “Aren’t you going to box the end leapers?” Tiffany asked, giving him that silly gloating grin again.

  “Huh?”

  “The end leapers.” She reached over, picked up his card, and turned it sideways. “Forty more points that way,” she said.

  “Thanks.” Stephen stared at the table. From what he saw, the cards might as well have been shaken up in a bag and tossed out by the handful. None of it meant anything.

  “This is nice,” his dad said. “I’m glad we can all get together for family fun.”

  “Me, too,” his mom agreed. “It’s so nice that we have this time together. Don’t you think so, kids?”

  “Yeah,” Tiffany said.

  “You like it, too, don’t you, Steph?” his mom asked.

  Stephen knew this was his chance. He wanted to throw the stupid cards across the room and shout, “I don’t understand any of this!” He wanted to tell them he had no idea what was going on, that he’d never had any idea, and he doubted he ever would have any idea. They’d explained, they’d showed examples, they’d told him over and over. He just didn’t get it.

  “It’s his favorite,” his dad said. “It’s everyone’s favorite, right, Steph?”

  “Sure,” Stephen said. “I love it.”

  “I’ve got an idea,” his mom said. “Since we’re having so much fun, why stop? There’s no rule that says family hour has to be only sixty minutes. Let’s play for another hour. Is that okay with everyone?”

  “Great,” his dad said.

  “Yay!” Tiffany screamed.

  “No,” Stephen said. He wasn’t even sure if he’d spoken aloud or just thought the word. It didn’t matter. They couldn’t possibly hear him over their shouts of joy.

  GEE! OGRAPHY

  “This is a real pain,” Eric whispered as he took a spot at the end of the line behind Darren.

  “Yeah, but it will be over really fast,” Darren said.

  “Especially for me.” Eric figured he’d be booted out of the geography bee quicker than a turtle in a dodgeball game. That was fine. He’d be happy to sit at his desk and watch the rest of the class struggle with unpronounceable world capitals, unmemorizable river names, and far too many majestic mountain ranges. Right now, the kids were all standing along the side of the room by the windows, waiting for Mr. Bedecker to start asking questions.

  Eric glanced t
oward the front of the line. Bobby the Brain was the first one there, looking eager to show everyone how smart he was. And Cindy Merkle, who once actually brought her globe in from home for show and tell, was right behind him, followed by Tracey Orben and Kim Fletcher.

  “You can tell who likes geography,” Eric whispered to Darren.

  “Let’s all pay attention,” Mr. Bedecker said. “We’re ready to begin. Take your time. Think about your answer. Remember, the three winners from our class get to compete in the school contest. The first-place winner in our class gets a small prize, too.” He held up a bag of gummi worms.

  Eric loved gummi worms, but he was pretty sure he’d lose on the first round. He liked math and science, and he loved reading, but geography was hard. He just wasn’t good at memorizing facts. He waited for his moment of doom as the line moved toward Mr. Bedecker.

  Darren’s turn came.

  “Name a state that borders Canada,” Mr. Bedecker said.

  Eric couldn’t believe his friend’s luck. That had to be the easiest question he’d heard so far.

  “Oregon,” Darren said. “No, wait!” He closed his eyes, as if looking at a map. “I mean, Washington.”

  “Right,” Mr. Bedecker said.

  Darren let out a sigh of relief and walked to the end of the line. It was Eric’s turn.

  “Ready, Eric?” Mr. Bedecker asked.

  “I guess.”

  Mr. Bedecker read the question. “Name a country on the Arabian peninsula along the Strait of Hormuz.”

  Oh, man, he’s got to be kidding, Eric thought. This was so unfair, especially after Darren’s easy question. Eric had heard of Arabia, but the rest of the question was gibberish. Oh, man, I’m really going to look stupid. He was so lost, he couldn’t even dream up a wild guess. When he opened his mouth, all that came out was, “Oh, man.”

  Mr. Bedecker stared at Eric for a moment. Then he stared at the sheet of paper in his hand. Then he stared back at Eric. No gummi worms for me, Eric thought as his head slumped in defeat.

  Before Eric could leave the line and slink back to his desk, Mr Bedecker smiled. “Very good. You’re absolutely right. The Sultantate of Oman is correct.”

  “Wow,” Darren whispered when Eric stepped up behind him. “How’d you know that? I’d never even heard of Oman.”

  “Not a clue,” Eric whispered back. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten so lucky. He watched as a bunch of kids, including Darren, were knocked out in the second round. Then Mr. Bedecker asked Eric, “Can you name the country whose capital is Oslo?”

  “No way,” Eric blurted out.

  “Correct again, Eric,” Mr. Bedecker said. “Norway is the right answer.”

  Eric was so stunned, and the line of remaining kids was so short, he was caught by surprise when his third turn came around.

  “Well, Eric?” Mr. Bedecker asked.

  Eric stared at him. He had no idea what the question was.

  “Eric, please don’t tell me you weren’t paying attention,” Mr. Bedecker said.

  All Eric could do was mutter, “Sorry.”

  Mr. Bedecker looked even more surprised than before. “Very, very good, Eric. I owe you an apology. I see you were definitely paying attention. Runnymede and Epsom are both in the English county of Surrey. I had no idea you were such a serious student of geography. Even I wasn’t sure about that one until I checked my textbook.”

  Eric looked at Darren and shrugged. Then he looked at the line. It wasn’t much of a line anymore. It was just four other kids. He’d almost made it into the top three.

  His next turn came quickly. “What is the capital of Macau?”

  “Macau?” Eric had never even heard of that place.

  Mr. Bedecker nodded. “Correct. Macau is the name of the capital city as well as the country.”

  Two more kids got knocked out. Eric had made it to the final three. All of them would compete in the school contest. But first, they’d see who was the winner for the class and, more important, the winner of those gummi worms.

  “The rules get stricter now,” Mr. Bedecker said. “No second chances. Make sure of your answer before you speak. Does everyone understand?”

  “Yes.” Eric didn’t care if they changed the rules. It doesn’t matter. I can’t lose, he thought. I can say anything and I’ll be right. Somehow, he was riding a lucky streak. He’d seen it happen in sports and on game shows. No reason it couldn’t happen during a geography bee. He was invincible. Invulnerable. Unbeatable. He couldn’t wait to nail the question.

  Eric pushed his tongue against the side of his left rear molar, as if already prying away stuck bits of gummi worm. The bag was as good as his. Give me your toughest question. He’d never won anything in his whole life, and he was really enjoying how good it felt to be a champ.

  Mr. Bedecker glanced down at the sheet of questions, then nodded, as if he, too, realized that Eric would know the answer. “What is the name of the country that is directly south of the United States?”

  Eric barely listened. “Yummy gummi mummy tummy,” he blurted out, confident that anything he said would be correct. Half a second later, it sank in what he’d just done. “Wait. Mexico! I mean Mexico. I know that. Everyone knows that.”

  “I’m sorry, Eric. You heard the rules. I have to take your first answer,” Mr. Bedecker said. “I regret to inform you that ‘yummy gummi mummy tummy’ is not a country directly south of the United States. Or anywhere else, as far as I know.”

  “But…” Eric stood for a moment, waiting for his luck to return, then shuffled over to his desk as the imagined taste of gummi worms faded from his mouth. He sat and watched Cindy win first place, with Bobby coming in second. The bell rang. School was over for the day.

  “Come on,” Darren said. “Let’s go hang out at my house.”

  “I can’t,” Eric said.

  “Why not?”

  Eric picked up his geography book. “I have to study for the school contest. I only have one week, and there’s a ton of stuff to learn.”

  “Study? You’re kidding,” Darren said.

  Eric shook his head. “Nope, I’m serious. I have to get ready. There’s a lot more to winning than just luck, you know.”

  THE SPIDER SHOUTER

  “Kill it!” Roger shouted. He pointed at the spider that sat like a small plum in the center of the huge web. “I hate them.”

  “They’re kind of cool.” Dana walked over toward the corner of the porch and studied the web. “I like spiders.”

  “I don’t,” Roger said. “They creep me out. They look all swollen in back, like they’re filled with green icky stuff.”

  “Chill out.” Dana thought the spider was awesome. Not that she’d want one crawling on her or anything like that. She felt Roger, who’d come over from next door to borrow a magazine, was way too nervous about everything. “It won’t hurt you.”

  “Go away!” Roger shouted at the spider.

  The spider skittered to the side of the web near the house.

  “Hey, it listened to you,” Dana said.

  “No way,” Roger said. “Spiders don’t have ears.”

  “Sure they do. Everything has ears.” But even as she said that, she realized she wasn’t sure.

  “Bacteria don’t have ears,” Roger said.

  “I’m talking about animals and bugs and stuff,” Dana said.

  “Well, bugs don’t have ears. I’ll prove it.” Roger stepped closer to the web—but not too close—and shouted, “Get off the porch!”

  The spider dropped down from the web. Dana saw that it was dangling from a tiny glistening line of spider silk. When the spider reached the floor of the porch, it ran to the edge and went over the side.

  “It totally heard you,” Dana said.

  “No way.” Roger shook his head.

  “Come on. I’m looking this up.” Dana ran inside. She was going to check out the answer online, but on the way to her room, she passed her parents’ bookcase with the old encyclopedia. She g
rabbed the volume for the letter S and opened it to the page for spiders.

  She skimmed the subject lines until she saw “Senses.”

  “Okay, here it is. They don’t have ears.…”

  “Told you.” Roger smirked.

  “But they sort of hear. They feel vibrations in their legs. So it felt what you said.” She held up the page to show Roger. “Try calling it.”

  “That’s stupid. There’s no way the spider listened to me. I’ll prove it.”

  Roger went back outside. Dana followed him to the porch.

  “Here, spider!” Roger yelled, like he was calling a dog. “Come here, spider. Hey, spider. Come here.”

  Dana watched the porch boards beneath the web. For a moment, nothing happened.

  Then the spider crawled into sight. It didn’t climb back to the web. Instead, it raced right toward Roger with eight tiny legs pumping like it was desperate to reach him.

  “Ahhhgg!” Roger ran to the other side of the porch. The spider followed him.

  “Ahhg!” he screamed again when he reached the railing. He stomped down on the spider.

  “Why’d you do that?” Dana asked. “Spiders are good.” She pointed to another paragraph in the encyclopedia. “It says they help control bad insects.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t want one chasing after me,” Roger said. “You shouldn’t have told me to call it.”

  “Oh, now you’re blaming me? You’re the one who called it.” Before Dana could say anything else, a motion to her side caught her attention. Another spider, just as large as the first one, was coming up from the front of the porch.

  She watched as it ran toward Roger. She wasn’t sure whether to warn him. She didn’t want the spider to get stomped, but she didn’t think Roger would want the spider crawling on him. She pointed.

  “Arggg!” Roger shouted and stomped.

  A third spider came from under the porch. And then a fourth.

  Roger stomped them both. He let out a howl of anger and fear. But the sound suddenly cut off. Roger grabbed his throat. He moved his lips. A faint whisper came out.