by R. L. Stine
In the deep silence, my footsteps sounded deafening as I crossed the street and stepped onto McClatchy’s driveway. I turned and peered down the long, tall hedge. McClatchy’s two lawn gnomes usually stood together at the back of the hedge.
But, no. The hedge rose up like a black wall. I squinted hard. And saw only darkness.
I took a few cautious steps up McClatchy’s driveway. Again, I felt a chill at the back of my neck. My throat tightened and my legs felt wobbly as I made my way toward the house.
Silence.
The only sound was my rapid breathing. My eyes darted all around. I felt like a frightened rabbit. Every sense was alert.
Where have all the lawn gnomes gone?
It isn’t really that late. Why isn’t anyone else outside?
I squinted hard at McClatchy’s front porch. I saw a stack of firewood logs piled at one end. A large axe leaned against the porch wall. A pair of tall black boots stood beside the door.
Suddenly, I froze. My breath caught in my chest.
A sound. I heard a sound.
The crunch of leaves. The soft thud of a footstep. Then another.
Every muscle in my body tightened. I forced myself to turn toward the sound.
I still couldn’t see them in the darkness. But I could hear them.
The lawn gnomes. They were coming for me.
The tiny moon slid out from behind the clouds. Pale light washed over the lawn. The scrape of rapid footsteps grew louder.
I held my breath. And stared at a family of raccoons making their way across the grass. They kept their heads low. Their dark-ringed eyes stared straight ahead. There were five or six of them, walking rapidly in a straight line.
I couldn’t help it. A laugh burst from my throat.
I’d been so frightened, I was shaking. And all because of a family of raccoons.
The lawn gnomes had vanished. Disappeared. Where had they gone? I didn’t care. It was perfectly safe out here.
What were people afraid of? Raccoons?
An idea popped into my head. I decided to go to Elliot’s house.
I’ll drag Elliot outside with me. I’ll show him there’s nothing to be afraid of.
I trotted down to the street and turned away from McClatchy’s yard. I remembered the houses looked a lot alike on Elliot’s block. But I was pretty sure I remembered his. Third house from the corner.
I jogged along the side of the street. I gazed into every yard I passed. No lawn gnomes anywhere. I had seen at least two or three in front of every house. But now they had all vanished.
Weird. But so what?
It took me only a few minutes to reach Elliot’s block. I heard a cat crying through an open window. Another house had the TV turned up really loud.
It was a block of small, square houses. I peered down the street. No one outside. Nothing moving.
I trotted up to the third house from the corner. I saw Elliot’s bike leaning against one wall. And I saw Elliot through the front window. He was sitting at a table with a laptop glowing in front of him. I could see on the screen that he was playing a game.
I stepped up to the house and tapped on the window. He didn’t hear me. He didn’t turn around.
I tapped harder on the glass. Then I shouted: “Hey, Elliot — it’s me.”
He finally turned around. His eyes bulged with surprise. He came up close to the window and peered out at me for a long time.
Like he was seeing a ghost or something.
I waved for him to come to the front door. And I could see the fear in his eyes.
A few seconds later, he pulled the front door open just a crack. “Jay — what are you doing out there?”
“Having fun,” I said. “Come on out.”
He peeked out at me through the crack. I could only see one eye.
“Go home,” he whispered. “Are you crazy? You shouldn’t be out there.”
“Come on, Elliot,” I said. “I swear there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“It’s not allowed,” he insisted. “Everyone knows it’s not allowed.”
“Everyone is wrong,” I said. I pushed the front door open wider and grabbed his arm. “Come on out. It’s an awesome night. Come on. Try it.”
“I … don’t think so,” he said. He pulled back. “Maybe some other time. But I have to ask my parents. They —”
I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and tugged him out onto the front walk. His eyes bulged again, and he gazed all around.
“See? Perfectly safe,” I said.
“Th-this is a big mistake,” he stammered.
“No way,” I said. “Let’s take a walk. It’s so totally cool. We’re the only ones out here. It’s like it’s our own private world.”
He swallowed hard. “I … don’t … like this,” he said. His eyes darted from side to side.
I pulled him to the street.
“What’s that sound?” he cried.
“It’s a cat,” I told him. “Inside the house on the corner.” I started to walk, waving for him to follow me. “Come on, dude. A short walk. Calm down. Really. We’re the only ones out here. See?”
He held back. “But, Jay — you know the rules. You know what —”
I kept walking. I knew he’d follow me.
“Hey, wait up,” he called. He came scrambling after me.
“Isn’t this awesome?” I said. We crossed the street and turned onto the next block. “Isn’t this totally awesome? Our own world?”
He poked me in the ribs.
“Hey.” I spun around. “Why’d you do that?”
His chin trembled. His eyes were wide again. He pointed. “Uh … Jay … I don’t think we’re alone.”
Gazing into the dark, I heard the thunder of footsteps.
The lawn gnomes seemed to appear from all directions. How many were there? Fifty? A hundred? An army of lawn gnomes!
They moved quickly. Their little boots pounded the pavement. Their tall caps bobbed and tilted under the pale moonlight. Their faces were shadowy and grim, eyes narrowed on Elliot and me.
We had no time to move. They surrounded us, forming a tight circle. I gazed from one unfriendly bearded face to the next.
They were a foot shorter than Elliot and me. But there was no way we could fight them. They closed in tightly, bumping their hard chests against us. Pushing us. Pushing until we were squeezed together.
They still hadn’t spoken or made a sound. They crushed around us, squeezing us in the middle of their tight circle.
“Malfunction,” one of them said finally, in a squeaky cartoon voice. “Malfunction.”
He was staring at me as he said it.
“What do you want?” I shouted. “Go away! We haven’t done anything to you!”
Elliot put a hand on my shoulder. “Careful,” he whispered. “Don’t get them angry.”
“Angry?” I cried. “I’m the one who’s angry.”
“Shhhhh,” Elliot warned. “I told you we’re not allowed out here.”
“Go away!” I screamed at them. “Leave us alone!”
I placed my hands on the shoulders of the gnome in front of me and tried to push him out of my way.
I guess that was a mistake. Because the gnomes all uttered angry cries at once. It sounded like dogs giving a warning bark.
And then the little guy shoved my hands off. He grabbed me by the waist — squeezed me hard in an iron grip — and hoisted me off the ground.
“Whoooa!” I let out a startled cry. The gnome was incredibly strong.
I tried to squirm and spin out of his hands. That only made him squeeze my waist tighter. I tried to hit him. My hands grabbed nothing but air. I couldn’t escape.
Other gnomes reached for me. They held me high above their heads. And then I saw Elliot lifted off his feet.
He didn’t put up too much of a struggle. I guess he was too frightened.
A few seconds later, the gnomes began to move. Elliot and I were helpless. Bumping along, held high over
their pointed hats. I twisted and screamed and squirmed and thrashed my arms.
The army of gnomes bunched together like a herd of cattle. Moving in a straight line down the street with Elliot and me on our backs, prisoners.
“Let us down!” I screamed. I was so frightened, my voice came out in a high squeak.
They moved quickly, their boots thudding the pavement as they carried us along the dark, empty street. Their stone-hard fingers dug into my sides, into my back.
“Let us go!” I wailed. “Where are you taking us? What are you going to do?”
“Stop! Let us go!” I shouted. But they ignored my cries. The clatter of their boots on the pavement drowned out my terrified screams.
Elliot and I bumped along together. It was like being carried by a powerful ocean wave. And I saw no one else on the street, no one who could stop them or try to help us.
I could scream till my throat exploded and no one would hear.
The gnomes turned a corner. Tall trees passed overhead. I glanced over to Elliot. “Where are they taking us? Do you have any idea?”
His face was twisted in fear. “Jay, I know exactly where they are taking us,” he said in a trembling voice. “They are taking us to the quagmire. They are going to throw us in.”
“Huh?” A cry escaped my throat.
“That’s the punishment for being out at night,” Elliot said. “I … I tried to tell you.”
“The punishment?” I cried. “For being outside? I don’t understand. That makes no sense to me.”
“Don’t you remember anything?” Elliot demanded.
“Remember?”
“Yes. Jay, why are you acting so stupid? Everyone knows the lawn gnomes come alive at night. It’s only our world during the day. But when it gets dark out, the gnomes take over. It’s their world and — and — you should stop pretending you don’t know all this.”
I didn’t get a chance to reply.
The gnomes stopped suddenly. I bounced hard in their hands. They lowered me slowly to the ground and placed me gently on my feet.
I gazed around. The moon floated high in the sky, sending down pale silvery light.
The quagmire gleamed in front of us. A shimmering, deadly lake. A lake of thick quicksand where it took only seconds to sink out of sight.
I shuddered.
I remembered my first time here. And I pictured Elliot and me sinking … sinking … And I thought of my lost bike, somewhere deep below the cold, smelly surface.
I took a deep breath. And made one last try at escape. I shot my arms out. Bent my knees. Tried to kick myself free.
But the gnomes held tight. I couldn’t budge.
I turned and saw that Elliot was still held in the air. Four gnomes raised him high over their heads.
His eyes were wild with fright. “Help me!” he cried. “They’re going to toss me in.”
The gnomes moved forward, toward the lake of quicksand.
“Wait —” I uttered.
Gnomes pushed hard all around me so I couldn’t move.
I watched in horror as the other gnomes carried Elliot to the edge of the quagmire. They raised him higher, ready to heave him in.
“Jay — help me! Help me! Please!” he wailed.
I had to do something. This was all my fault. My fault.
I had to do something to save my friend. But — what?
Suddenly, I had an idea.
“Help me!” Elliot screamed.
The gnomes rushed to the edge of the quagmire, holding him high. They pulled back their arms, ready to heave him in feetfirst.
I twisted myself around. Gave myself a little room. Reached into my jeans pocket. And pulled out a light-stick.
Before a gnome could grab it away, I raised it to my face — and blew on it as hard as I could.
WHOOOOOSH.
The light-stick exploded in a blinding flash of fiery light. The sky lit up bright as day.
I held the light-stick high in front of me. And in its glowing light, I saw that my idea had worked.
The gnomes stood stiffly, frozen. Hard and still — like lawn gnomes. Lifeless once again.
“Yesss!” I raised my hands in a victory cry.
My thinking was correct: The gnomes came to life at night. But they froze in daylight.
And so, they froze in the bright light of my light-stick.
“Yesss!” I did a little victory dance. My invention saved our lives.
How long would the light-stick glow? How long could I keep the gnomes frozen?
I didn’t know. We had to act fast before it got dark again. I slid past two gnomes to get to Elliot.
“Elliot? Hey — Elliot?”
I expected to see him run toward me. But to my shock, he was sprawled flat on his back on the ground.
When the light-stick flashed, did the gnomes drop him on his head?
I suddenly remembered what happened back in my bedroom. When I showed Elliot the light-stick for the first time, he fell to the floor when I flashed it.
He said he was only joking. But did bright light make Elliot faint?
Something weird was going on here.
I dropped beside him on the grass at the edge of the quagmire. “Elliot — wake up. Elliot. Come on. We have to run.”
He didn’t budge.
“Elliot — come on, dude.”
The light dimmed. I heard some gnomes begin to groan and move.
“Elliot — please.” I grabbed his arm and tugged. “Get up! Get UP! We don’t have any time!”
And then I opened my mouth in a horrified scream.
His arm — it yanked off in my hands.
The whole arm ripped away from the shoulder. And … and …
Oh, noooo.
I saw wires and circuits and mechanical things. Inside Elliot’s arm!
“Oh, wow,” I murmured. I gaped at the loose arm, at the wires and cables inside it.
“Elliot — what is this? What ARE you? I — I don’t understand!”
He slowly raised his head. He turned to me. His eyes slid back and forth. “Malfunction,” he said.
“Huh? Elliot? Please —” I begged.
“Malfunction,” he repeated. “Malfunction. Malfunction …”
“What’s wrong with you?” I cried. “Get up! Stop saying that! We have to get away from here!”
The quagmire bubbled suddenly. It made a sound like a loud burp.
“Elliot —”
“Malfunction. Malfunction.” His eyes darted faster from side to side.
The light-stick was dead now. Darkness returned. I heard a rustling behind me.
I turned and saw the lawn gnomes stretching their arms above their heads. Yawning. Waking up.
I let go of Elliot’s arm. It rolled over the grass.
“Malfunction. Malfunction.”
I jumped to my feet. My heart pounded so hard, I could barely breathe.
Elliot’s voice rang in my ear, repeating that word over and over. I knew I couldn’t save him.
But I had to try to save myself.
The gnomes all stood now. They moved quickly. Their eyes were all on me. Their shadowy faces were menacing, all scowls and clenched jaws beneath their beards.
I had one more light-stick in my pocket. I tugged it out.
I knew I had to put the gnomes back to sleep. It was my only chance to escape them.
I raised the light-stick close to my face. I sucked in a deep breath — and blew hard.
Nothing happened.
It didn’t light.
I took a deep breath and blew on it again.
No. Not happening.
My hand trembled as I turned it over and blew on the other end of the stick.
No. It didn’t light. Maybe it was one I’d already used in my room.
With a cry, I tossed the light-stick into the quagmire. It landed with a soft thunk and sank immediately.
Elliot lay lifelessly at my feet, his mechanical arm beside him. He had finally stopped re
peating the word malfunction. His mouth hung open, and his eyes stared blankly up at the pale sliver of a moon above the trees.
Run, I told myself.
I gazed around, frantically searching for the best escape path. But the gnomes had me surrounded. Once again, they’d formed a circle. They were closing in.
And then I saw someone … Someone standing at the edge of the quagmire, watching me.
Not a gnome. Not a gnome.
It took me a few seconds to recognize who it was.
And then I opened my mouth and uttered a cry:
“HELP me! Please — HELP me!”
She didn’t move. She had her hands pushed deep into the pockets of her jacket. Her hair fluttered in the breeze.
“Kayla — go get help!” I pleaded, my voice high with panic and surprise.
She took a few steps toward me. Her eyes glowed in the moonlight. Finally, she spoke. “I followed you here.”
“Good! You — you’ve got to help me,” I stammered. “The gnomes … They carried Elliot and me here. They want to throw us in the quagmire.”
Kayla’s face was hidden in shadow. She spoke in a calm, low voice, nearly a whisper: “You broke the rules, Jay. We’re not supposed to go out at night.”
“I … I didn’t know,” I said. “I didn’t realize. Kayla — get help! Hurry!”
“The lawn gnomes come alive at night,” Kayla said. “It’s their world at night. Everyone knows that, Jay.”
“But … Elliot,” I stammered. “I thought he was my friend. But he’s some kind of robot or something.”
Kayla stared straight ahead. “So?”
“So?” I cried. “What do you mean? It’s horrible! Aren’t you even surprised?”
She shook her head.
I glanced away. The lawn gnomes were moving again. Tightening their circle. Growling and grumbling and uttering low threats.
I had only seconds to act.
“Kayla, I don’t know what to do!” I cried. “Aren’t you frightened, too?”
She shook her head again.
“Can you help me?” I wailed. “Can you think of something? Can you help?”
“I’m so sorry, Jay,” she said. She moved closer and I saw the sad expression on her face. “I’m so sorry. I can’t help you.”