My Friend Slappy

by R. L. Stine

  I nodded. “Yes. I believe it.”

  The rest of the day seemed just fine. But when I started to walk home, Travis and Kelly were waiting for me in the teachers’ parking lot.

  “Hey, Sluggs,” Travis called. “We want to talk to you.”

  I followed them to the fence at the back of the parking lot. They each had a bag of tortilla chips, and they crunched chips as they walked. I thought they might offer me some, but they didn’t.

  “Hey, thanks for writing those papers,” Travis said. “First A-minus I ever got.”

  “And how come I only got a B?” Kelly demanded. He swallowed the last chip, crinkled the bag up, and tossed it at my chest. “Why didn’t you get me an A, Sluggs?”

  I took a step back. “I … did the best I could,” I told him. “You never get B’s, Kelly. I know you don’t even get C’s.”

  Kelly curled his fists at his sides. “You were supposed to get us A’s.”

  “That wasn’t the deal,” I said. “Come on. I saved your lives. I saved your final grades. I can’t believe you’re giving me a hard time.”

  Travis gave Kelly a hard shove, sending him back into the fence. “Shut up, Kelly. Sluggs is right. He did an awesome job.”

  Kelly tried to shove Travis back. But Travis dodged to the side, and Kelly missed.

  I decided to change the subject. “Hey, guys, tell me about the Crokodile Tears concert. How are we getting to the civic center? Are your parents driving you there? Can you pick me up?”

  They both stared at me.

  “You’re joking, right?” Travis said.

  “No. Why?”

  “The concert was last week,” Travis said. “You missed it, Sluggs.”

  “You should have gone. It was totally awesome!” Kelly exclaimed.

  “No, wait—” I said. “You said you had a ticket for me. You said—”

  “No, we didn’t,” Kelly said.

  “I don’t remember anything about a ticket,” Travis said.

  “No. Come on,” I said. “Seriously. Stop kidding around. You promised. You promised we’d go. You promised we’d be friends. We’d hang out at the concert.”

  “We said that? Are you sure?” Kelly said.

  “That was a joke,” Travis said. He grinned at me. “Don’t you know when we’re joking?”

  “Why would we hang out with a slug?” Kelly said.

  They both laughed.

  I let out a long sigh. I suddenly felt weak. Dizzy.

  It was all a trick. They tricked me into writing their papers. And they lied. They were lying about the whole deal.

  I risked everything for them, and they were lying the whole time. It was all a joke … just a mean joke.

  “I—I—I—” I was too angry to talk. I could feel the anger growing inside me, burning my chest, growing … growing … until I was about to burst apart. Explode like a big balloon popping.

  “You TRICKED me!” I screamed. And then I lost it.

  I went diving into Kelly. I tackled him hard, and he crashed to the ground. Then Travis tried to pull me off Kelly, and he tripped over my legs.

  “HEY, STOP THAT!” a voice shouted. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

  Panting hard, I looked up. And saw Mr. Plame running full speed across the parking lot. His face was bright red and his eyes were wide with surprise.

  He was out of breath by the time he stopped in front of me. “Barton? I … I don’t believe what I just saw,” he stammered.

  “Barton attacked us,” Travis said, picking himself up off the ground.

  “He just went berserk,” Kelly added.

  “It … it was an accident,” I said.

  Totally lame. But I was too stunned to think clearly.

  Mr. Plame turned to Kelly and Travis. They both were groaning and holding their stomachs and acting like they’d never recover.

  “Are you okay?” the teacher asked them.

  “No,” they both said at the same time.

  “I think he broke my ribs,” Kelly groaned.

  What a phony.

  “Let’s get you both to the nurse,” Mr. Plame said. He turned back to me. “I saw the whole thing. I saw you lunge at Kelly. Why on earth did you do that, Barton?”

  I lowered my head. “It’s a long story,” I muttered.

  Mr. Plame wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He narrowed his eyes at me. “You know we have a zero-tolerance violence policy at this school.”

  “Yeah. I know,” I said.

  He took my arm. “Okay. Come to the office and let’s call your parents.”

  Haha. Looks like our friend Barton got himself in some serious trouble. Doesn’t he know Rule Number One?

  Always tackle someone when your teacher ISN’T looking!

  I learned that in kindergarten. I was a real star in kindergarten. That’s because all the others in my class were dummies! Hahaha.

  Well … you’d better turn the page. This story is about to get good. That’s because the rest of it is about ME! Hahahaha.

  “It’s about time you got back at those two bullies!” Dad exclaimed at dinner that night.

  I tried to tell him it was all a mistake. An accident.

  Mrs. Garvey, the middle school principal, suspended me from school for a week. And Dad was the only one who was happy about it.

  “You shouldn’t encourage violence,” Mom said, shaking her head.

  “Those two punks won’t be bothering Barton anytime soon,” Dad replied.

  I didn’t think he was right. But I kept my head lowered to my spaghetti bowl.

  “They’re kids. They’re not punks,” Mom said.

  “This spaghetti is cold,” Dad complained. “How on earth do you make cold spaghetti?”

  “You cooked dinner tonight!” Mom said. “Did you forget?”

  She and Dad started shouting at each other about which one of them made the spaghetti. I ate quickly and hurried upstairs to my room.

  A whole week without school. Some kids might be happy about that. But not me. Being suspended from school was bad news. And I wasn’t even being punished for writing those two book reports. I was suspended for fighting. I couldn’t believe it.

  I pictured Travis and Kelly in the parking lot that afternoon. I pictured them both on the ground.

  “It’s all their fault,” I murmured to myself. “If they hadn’t played such a mean trick …”

  And now everyone was upset and disappointed in me. Mrs. Garvey was upset. Mr. Plame was so upset, he could barely speak. Mom was so upset, she pretended it was perfectly normal for me to be home all day.

  And I wondered if Lizzie was unhappy with me, too. I tried texting her, but she didn’t reply. Maybe she hadn’t even heard about it.

  Sighing, I slumped to the closet and pulled the dummy out of its case. I carried it to the edge of my bed and sat it down on my lap.

  “Slappy,” I said, “you may be my only friend.”

  The dummy grinned back at me with its painted smile.

  I reached into the jacket pocket and pulled out the two sheets of paper. I folded up the first one and tucked it back into the pocket. Then I raised the page with the funny words to my face.

  “What do these words mean?” I asked out loud.

  I started to read them. But I heard footsteps on the stairs—and Lizzie burst into my room.

  She was dressed in a short white skirt and a white top. She had obviously just come from a tennis lesson. Her dark hair fell wildly around her face.

  “Barton—I heard,” she said. “Are you okay?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah. Fine.”

  Lizzie took a moment to catch her breath. “My mom heard about you from one of her friends.”

  “Good news travels fast,” I said sarcastically.

  “You’re making jokes?” she cried. “You were suspended from school and you’re making jokes?”

  I shrugged. “What else can I do?”

  She swept her hair back with both hands. “Did you re
ally attack Travis and Kelly?”

  “Well … we all ended up on the ground,” I said. “I didn’t really attack them.”

  Her mouth dropped open and stayed open. “I—I—I—”

  “I know. You’re shocked,” I said.

  “How long are you suspended?”

  “A week,” I said.

  “Oh, wow. Oh, wow. How are your parents taking it?” she asked.

  “One good, one bad,” I said. “Dad thinks I’m a superhero. Mom thinks I’m a criminal.”

  She squinted at the dummy on my lap. “Hey, what are you doing with that thing?”

  “Just goofing,” I said. “I have a lot of time to fill. Maybe if I work up a ventriloquist act, it will take my mind off what happened. And I think I can use him for my History project.”

  “Use the dummy? How?”

  “I’m doing the history of puppets,” I said. “I can do a thing about ventriloquist dummies, too.” I bounced Slappy in my lap. “What are you doing for your History project?”

  Lizzie dragged my desk chair over to the bed and sat down across from me. “I’m going to show off some of my more unusual stuffed dogs,” she said. “And I’m going to talk about how dogs came to be pets for humans. It’s interesting. Dogs came out of the wild and started being pets thousands of years ago.

  “What’s that paper in your hand?” Lizzie pointed.

  I didn’t realize I was still holding it. “Some weird words,” I said. “They came with the dummy.”

  “Words?” Lizzie grabbed the paper from my hand.

  “Hey, these are weird words.” She raised the page and read the words out loud: “KARRU MARRI ODONNA LOMA MOLONU KARRANO.”

  And that’s when things got crazy.

  I heard a soft buzz and felt something like an electric current roll through the dummy. I sat him up straight.

  His eyes blinked.

  I didn’t do it. I wasn’t controlling his eyes.

  Lizzie handed the sheet of paper to me, and I stuffed it back in Slappy’s jacket pocket. “Is that supposed to be some kind of magic spell?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  And then the dummy’s wooden lips clicked up and down. “This is where the magic happens!” he rasped.

  Lizzie gasped. “I didn’t know you could throw your voice, Barton.”

  “I—I can’t!” I stammered. “Slappy said that. I didn’t.”

  “Shut up,” Lizzie snapped. “Don’t try to freak me out.”

  We both stared at the grinning dummy.

  “He sure is ugly,” Lizzie said.

  “You’re not so cute yourself!” Slappy cried in a high, shrill voice.

  Lizzie frowned at me. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

  “I—I didn’t say it,” I stammered. I could feel the blood pulsing at my temples. Something weird was happening here.

  I really wasn’t saying those things. I knew Lizzie wouldn’t believe me. But the dummy was talking on his own.

  “Are you sure you should wear white?” Slappy shouted at Lizzie. “You look like a used tissue!”

  “Stop it, Barton,” Lizzie snapped. “You’re not funny. You have to practice and think up better jokes.”

  “Are those your lips?” Slappy asked Lizzie. “Or are you eating worms? Hahahaha!”

  Lizzie jumped up and sent the desk chair sliding back across the room. “I’m outta here,” she said.

  “No, wait—” I stood up, holding Slappy in one hand. “You’ve got to believe me. I—”

  “We’ve been friends since fourth grade,” Lizzie said. “I thought I knew you. But … you’re totally weird, Barton. First, you attack two kids and get kicked out of school. Then you start pretending a dummy can talk and say really gross things to me. And—and—oh, good-bye.”

  She turned and strode out of the room.

  I stood without moving and listened to her hurry down the stairs and out the front door.

  I turned the dummy toward me and raised it so we were eye to eye.

  “She’s cute,” Slappy rasped. “What species is she?”

  “You can really talk!” I cried. “You’re alive!”

  I raised him high above my head. “You’re alive! Alive!”

  “Put me down!” the dummy screamed. “Do you hear me? Put me down!”

  I lowered him till we were face-to-face again. My brain was spinning. I could barely breathe.

  I knew I should be terrified of this creature. But I wasn’t.

  I suddenly had plans for him. I didn’t even have to think about it for a second. The idea flashed into my brain, and I knew the dummy could change my life.

  Holding him in front of me, I felt as if I had won a lottery. I was the new champion of the world! I was unbeatable! Immortal!

  Slappy was about to become my new secret weapon. My new way to finally get my revenge against Travis and Kelly.

  The dummy blinked its eyes a few times. “What’s wrong with you?” he snapped. “You’re supposed to be scared of me.”

  “Scared?” I replied. “Why?”

  “Because I’m alive,” he said. “Because I can do really bad things. Because I can do really bad things to you!”

  I snickered. “I can do bad things to you, too, Slappy. I can put you back in your case.”

  “No, you can’t,” he rasped in his scratchy, shrill voice. “Try it.”

  “Okay.” I swung him over my shoulder and walked to the closet. I bent and pulled the case from the closet floor. Then I started to pull up the lid.

  “Owwwwww!”

  I screamed as a powerful electric current buzzed over both my hands. I could see the electricity zapping over my skin. Pain shot up and down my arms.

  “Okay! Okay!” I shouted. “I get it. You can do bad things.”

  Slappy rolled his eyes, and the current stopped crackling over me. I shook both hands in the air. They still buzzed and throbbed.

  “Now are you scared of me?” the dummy asked.

  “Okay, okay,” I mumbled. “So you’ve got powers. That’s even better.”

  The dummy’s eyes spun in his head. “Better? Why is that better?”

  “Because you’re going to help me,” I said. “We’re going to be best buddies.”

  “No, we’re not,” he insisted. “Someone must have scrambled your brain—if you have one. We’re not going to be friends. You’re going to be my servant. Servant for life!”

  I laughed. “Sounds great.”

  The dummy blinked at me. “Are you kidding me? You should be shaking right now.”

  “I am shaking,” I said. “Shaking with laughter. You’re funny.”

  “Maybe you need another shock treatment from me,” Slappy said.

  I sat him on the bed and held him up by the shoulders. I brought my face close to his. “Don’t you understand?” I said. “Thanks to you, I own the only living dummy on earth! You’re going to make me famous. And there are a few other things you are going to do for me. There are two guys I want you to meet.”

  The dummy shook his head. “You need a checkup from the neck up, kid. Everyone is scared of me. Do you hear? Everyone!”

  “You and I are going to be good friends,” I said. “Forget that scare stuff. It won’t work on me. Save it for these two guys in my class. You can get as scary as you like with them.”

  I patted him on the top of his wooden head. “I am your friend,” I said, “and friends don’t scare friends.”

  Boy, was I wrong.

  All week, I thought about the ways I could use Slappy to scare Travis and Kelly. Slappy chuckled at every evil idea I had.

  I saw that he could be dangerous. But I thought as long as I stayed his friend, I’d be okay.

  On Friday night, I invited Lizzy to come work on our science notebooks. But that was a lie. I wanted to tell her all about Slappy and the plans I had for my new friend.

  I greeted her at the front door. Her mouth dropped open in shock. “Barton? What happened to your hair?” she asked.
“It looks like you stuck your head in a blender!”

  “No big deal,” I said. “Travis and Kelly caught me after school. They said they had to give me a Welcome Back to School present. Then they held me down and gave me a haircut.”

  Lizzie gasped. “Huh? Aren’t you upset? What did your parents say?”

  “They didn’t notice,” I said.

  “But—but—” Lizzie sputtered. “You can’t let those boys get away with that.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said, leading the way upstairs to my room. “I’ve got a plan for them.”

  “A plan? What are you going to do? Go after them again?”

  “You’ll see,” I said. I closed the door behind us. I motioned for Lizzie to take a seat on my desk chair.

  “Why are you grinning like that, Barton?” she demanded. “Have you looked in a mirror? Have you seen what they did to you?”

  “No worries, Lizzie. They’re history. You’ll see.”

  “Are you going to tell me your plan?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m going to show you. I’ll give you a hint. Slappy is going to help out.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure. Great plan, Barton. An old ventriloquist dummy will help you get revenge against Travis and Kelly. Do you have a thermometer up here? I think you’re running a fever.”

  I motioned for her to come over to the closet. “You’ll see,” I said.

  “I know what’s in your closet,” Lizzie said. “Puppets. Is that what you’re going to do? Put on a puppet show for Travis and Kelly? Wow. That’ll teach them a lesson.”

  “I’m not going to do a puppet show,” I said. “I’m going to put on a Slappy show.”

  She stepped up beside me. I grabbed the closet door handle. “You’re not going to believe this,” I said.

  I pulled open the closet door—and gasped.

  Slappy was gone.

  I stepped into the closet. I had a bunch of marionettes hanging on hooks against the closet wall. I pushed them aside and peered to the back. No sign of him.

  “That’s weird,” I said, turning to Lizzie. “I left him here this morning.”

  “BOOOO!” a shrill voice shouted.