by Greyson Mann
So . . . I’ll call Chloe. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.
WAIT!!! I can’t call Chloe, because I have Chloe’s phone. CRUD!!!
It’s okay. Deep breaths. I can call Ziggy Zombie on his crusty old phone.
I mean, I WOULD, if I had his number.
Who am I kidding??? As soon as I have a signal, I’m calling HOME. Mom will pick up. Good old Mom, who’s probably worrying about me anyway. She’ll know what to do. The first thing she’ll do is call the principal, who will FIRE Mr. Carl. But hopefully not before Mr. Carl comes back to get me.
WHEN is Mr. Carl coming back to get me???????
If he were here right now, he’d say, “What a great scientific question, Gerald! Let’s test it out!”
He’d have me figuring out the speed of the minecarts and the distance from here to the Extreme Hills—and back again. We’d be drawing diagrams and sketching out minecart tracks.
But he’s NOT here, Gerald. So get it together.
Oh, no. I’m talking to myself. This is NOT good!!!
It’s daylight, and I’m not supposed to be out here without a buddy. This is when polar bears hunt for prey. When the wolves start howling. When the killer rabbits creep out of their dens . . .
Okay, GET A GRIP, Gerald. Snap out of it.
I just have to PRETEND that Mr. Carl and Ms. Wanda are here, and do what they would tell me to do.
First things first: Get fuel.
There are a few sticks on the ground from the torch chandelier I blew up in Chloe’s igloo. That’ll work. I’m going to go light them now, so DON’T go away.
Right now, trusty journal, YOU are the only buddy I’ve got.
DAY 12: TUESDAY AFTERNOON
Okay, a fire is blazing in the fire pit in Chloe’s busted-up igloo.
I did what Mr. Carl would tell me to do. I gathered some mushrooms. Something is bubbling on the fire. It’s not exactly mushroom stew, but I guess if you boil mushrooms in melted snow, it’s KIND of like stew.
I’m watching for a signal on my phone, and keeping a lookout for minecarts on the tracks below. But it’s SO hard—my eyelids keep closing. This survival stuff is exhausting. And COLD.
Where’s a zombie to spoon when you need one?
I did NOT just write that. Where’s an ERASER when you need one???
I think I need to build a roof. That’ll keep the heat in the igloo. I wish Sam were here right now—my buddy Sam, who paid attention when Mr. Carl was teaching us how to engineer the perfect roof.
But I’m going to do my best.
Pack, stack, curve. Pack, stack, curve. Wish me luck.
DAY 12: TUESDAY NIGHT
IS MR. CARL COMING BACK FOR ME?
EVER???
AM I GOING TO DIE OUT HERE IN THE COLD TAIGA???
It’ll serve him right if I do. Because he never taught us what to do in THIS situation. He left a few lessons OUT of his lesson book, if you ask me.
Yeah, like you would have paid attention anyway, Gerald. You were too busy breaking rules and having FUN.
Huh? WHO SAID THAT???
Seriously, I think I’m starting to lose it up here. It’s so quiet!!!
Wait, I think I hear a wolf howling. He sounds LONELY.
Dude, I know exactly how you feel. I miss my pack, too. I miss Sam’s jolly jiggliness. I kind of miss Ziggy, because if he were here right now, I’d at least hear grunts and groans instead of SILENCE. I even miss Chloe, because . . . well, no. I guess I don’t really miss Chloe—not yet. But leave this creep out in the Taiga long enough, and I will.
I just tried howling like a wolf. It came out more like a long hisssssss. But I swear my voice curled around and echoed right back at me. CREEPY.
Okay, shake it off. Think positive, Gerald.
You have a roof on the igloo. It’s not perfect, but it’s good enough—and it has a hole in it so the smoke can get out (thanks to Sam).
You have fuel, but these sticks aren’t going to last forever.
You have a few drops of NOT very delicious, super watery mushroom stew.
Okay, what else did Mr. Carl teach you? THINK, creeper, THINK!
How fast can snow golems move? How long before they melt? What is the trajectory of snowballs off a bow and arrow?
SHEESH. NOT helpful.
I could always make a homemade sled to sleep on. Or climb way up that hill to Polar Bear Land and slide down a water slide. NOT. Or . . .
Wait, genius just struck. If there’s ANY place where I might get a phone signal, it’s up there—WAY up there, by the waterfall!
But it’s sure a long way up. And, I mean, I haven’t slept in ages. And if I’m going to run into polar bears, I REALLY have to be well rested.
So I’m going to sleep first. And when I wake up, well . . . I guess I’m going mountain climbing.
DAY 13: WEDNESDAY MORNING
Wow, I slept the whole night away. Now it’s daytime, and I’m wide awake. I really shouldn’t go up the mountain during the DAYTIME, should I? All by MYSELF?
Sure, NOW you want to start following Mr. Carl’s rules, Gerald.
ACK!!! It’s that voice again. I CANNOT stay in this igloo talking to myself. It’s time to move on. I’m going to pack up everything I have—my phone, a slimy brown mushroom, and two sticks—and head for the hills.
If I don’t make it back, you’ll know what happened.
Yup, I turned into Polar Bear Breakfast. I hope they’re not expecting much of a meal out of me, because I’m already shrinking on this mushroom diet.
Wait, there’s one thing I gotta do first.
Dear Mom,
I’m really, REALLY sorry I hung up on you today. I promise that if I make it out of the Taiga alive, I will answer EVERY time you call—even if you talk really loud and don’t look at the screen and make smoochy noises and embarrass me in front of all my friends. Because that’s just what moms do.
If I DON’T make it out, just remember that you’ve been a good mom—which I know isn’t easy when you have a daughter like Chloe. Please tell her not to blame herself for my death (even if it is kind of her fault).
I hope you will all remember me the way I was: a handsome creeper, and not the frozen green Creep-sicle that I’m about to become.
Your smart, loyal, and faithful son,
Gerald Creeper Jr.
DAY 13: WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON
I made it to the top of the mountain. So why am I whispering? Because I’m in a CAVE.
I know, I know, it’s not the smartest place for a creeper to be if he doesn’t want to become polar bear food. But I STILL can’t get a phone signal, and a snowstorm blew in, and I was starting to look like a snow golem out there. So what was I supposed to do???
I grabbed some spruce branches for protection. I figure I can use them like swords if I have to. And I’m going to keep my eyes open and watch for OTHER eyes—glowing eyes—in this cave. And if I need to do something to pass the time, I can always weave my branches into a sled. Or a bed.
Wait, I just had a genius idea: I can’t CALL Mom, but maybe I can text her. And then the text will hang out there in cyberspace, and as SOON as there’s a break in the storm, it’ll PING on Mom’s phone. And she’ll come rescue me.
“Dear Mom. I’m in a cave at the top of a hill in the Taiga. Yup, Mr. Carl left me behind. Can you come pick me up? Just follow the frozen waterfall up the hill, and you’ll find me in the first cave on the left—I mean, if I’m still here. I haven’t seen any polar bears yet, but . . .“
I didn’t mean to cut the message off right there, but I accidentally hit SEND. Oh, well. Mom will get the idea.
Wait, what’s that noise?
Dude, dude, dude, dude, dude . . . it was a GROWL. Gotta go!!!!
DAY 13: WEDNESDAY NIGHT (I THINK . . .)
False alarm. The growl I heard was my own STOMACH. Mushroom stew isn’t the most filling meal a creep can have.
I WISH it would stop snowing out there so I could go mushroom picking. It’s wet and heavy snow, th
e perfect kind for snow golems.
I can’t believe I’m thinking about snow golems at a time like this. But it’s starting to get awfully lonely in here. Maybe if I built myself some buddies, I wouldn’t go TOTALLY crazy out here in the Taiga. I could build a whole FAMILY of snow golems—I mean, if I only had a few pumpkins.
I’d even settle for a moldy old jack-o-lantern. I could name my snow golem Ziggy and pretend he was a zombie, except with better breath.
Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do when it stops snowing. I’ll go back down the mountain and bust my way into the main cabin. There’ll be loads of pumpkins in there. And pork chops, with my name written all over them. And coal so I can make a BLAZING fire in the furnace.
Then we’ll just live off the land, me and my snow golems.
Yup, that’s what I’m going to do. When it stops snowing, I mean. But for now, maybe I’ll just lie down on my homemade sled-bed and shut my eyes for a sec . . .
DAY 14???
Is it daytime out there? Or just the moon reflecting off the snow?
Wait, is that the light at the end of the tunnel that some mobs see when they leave the Overworld? HUH. If it is, I gotta say, it’s been a good life. I can’t complain much.
I mean, I would have LIKED to become a famous rapper. But maybe explorers will find my journal in this cave, and they’ll give it to Mom, and she’ll post all my rap songs on Instagolem and Snapghast and Hisser and Faceblock. And they’ll go viral. YEAH! I could be like that artist Van Golem who didn’t really get famous until after he died.
Don’t laugh. It could happen.
So I’d better get busy and do more writing. I want Mom to have PLENTY of material to work with.
Okay, now I’m just HUNGRY. CRUD!!!
DAY ???
I think it’s thundering again out there. Is another storm rolling in? GREAT.
Wait, that’s not thunder. That’s . . .
A MINECART!!! Gotta go!!!
DAY 15: FRIDAY
Wow. I did NOT see all that coming. You just never know how a field trip is going to turn out.
Let me catch you up.
It was NOT thundering outside. It was definitely a bunch of minecarts, with a furnace cart blazing full of coal.
Mr. Carl really had that thing revved up. And even from way up on the mountain, I could see Sam Slime spilling out of his minecart. He wasn’t sitting next to Willow anymore. Maybe he was saving a seat for me. Maybe he was just hoping and praying that he’d see me again, his good old buddy Gerald.
“I’m here!” I shouted. “I’m here! I’m here! I’m here!”
I jumped up and down and ran in circles, but they probably couldn’t hear or see me from way down below.
But you know what did?
A POLAR BEAR.
It was just a cute little thing—poking its white head up from the snow to check out this crazy creeper who was running in circles.
When I saw that bear cub, my heart melted like an igloo roof. I suddenly knew exactly why Sam wanted to meet one. I actually took a step toward it.
Until I heard growling.
UH-OH.
Yup, there was Mama Bear. And she was NOT happy to see me making friends with her cub. When she reared up on her hind legs, she was taller than an iron golem, I swear.
Now some mobs might have passed out in fear. But I am proud to say that I, Gerald Creeper Jr., did not.
Nope. I did exactly what Mr. Carl would have told me to do. I ran to the frozen waterfall and stomped on the ice to break it. When water gushed out, I jumped on board that slide and FLEW down the hill. I didn’t even need a sled.
I must have made it to the bottom in record time. And you know who was there to greet me?
MOM.
Well I’ve never been so happy to see that creeper in all my life. I might have shed a few tears—and I don’t even care who saw me.
Mom looked kind of crazy, like she hadn’t slept in days. And she looked FIERCE—like a Mama polar bear who’d just found out someone was messing with her cub.
Turns out, Mom DID get my text. And she took a high-speed minecart to the Extreme Hills, where she ordered Mr. Carl to turn his minecarts AROUND and go back to get her son.
Mr. Carl was ashamed of himself, I could tell. He hissed and stammered and apologized like a gazillion times. I should have been mad at the creeper, but for some reason, I wasn’t. Maybe it was because I hadn’t totally followed all his rules. And because even though he’d left me in the Taiga, he’d kind of SAVED me too—with his science lessons.
I told him about gathering fuel, about making mushroom stew, and about the water slide. I talked REALLY loud when I described the polar bears, because I wanted everyone to hear me.
Sam got all weepy, like he was worried about me. Even Chloe looked kind of impressed. “Did you get a photo?” she asked. Leave it to Chloe to STILL be thinking about the Snapghast contest.
“Nope,” I said. “I don’t need one. THAT’s a picture I’ll never forget.”
Especially the polar bear cub. I could see that cub clear as day in my head, all cute and curious about me—not scared at all. But what if I’d been a hostile mob? Or an Ender Dragon? That poor cub didn’t know any better. It needed someone looking out for him.
I was like that once—like 14 days ago.
But I’ve grown a lot since then. From now on, I’m going to follow rules. I’m going to listen when my teacher tells me something.
Yup, you won’t even recognize me. I’m going to be a whole different creeper. I mean, MOSTLY.
Chloe can spend her life posting photos if she wants to.
As for me? I’m going to LIVE my life.
But not out in the Taiga. I’m kind of done with that for a while.
“Hey, Mom!” I said in a super loud voice, like she did whenever she video-chatted with me. “Let’s go HOME.”
DON’T MISS ANY OF GERALD CREEPER JR.’S HILARIOUS ADVENTURES!
