03 - Monster Blood

by R. L. Stine

  “Two dollars, I guess,” the man told Evan. “But I’m telling you, it’s no good. It’s too old.”

  “I don’t care,” Evan said, reaching into his shirt pocket for the ten-dollar bill.

  “Well, don’t bring it back to me complaining,” the man said grumpily, and headed toward the cash register at the front of the store.

  A few minutes later, Evan walked out into the bright daylight carrying the blue can. Trigger panted excitedly, wagging his stubby tail, pleased to be out of the dark, dusty store. Andy followed them out, an unhappy expression on her face.

  “You didn’t buy the lunchbox?” Evan asked.

  “Don’t change the subject,” she snapped. “I’ll pay you five dollars for it.” She reached for the can of Monster Blood.

  “No way,” Evan replied. He laughed. “You really like to get your way, don’t you!”

  “I’m an only child,” she said. “What can I tell you? I’m spoiled.”

  “Me, too,” Evan said.

  “I have an idea,” Andy said, pulling her bike off the storefront wall. “Let’s share it.”

  “Share it?” Evan said, shaking his head. “For sure. I’ll share it the way you shared your bike.”

  “You want to ride the bike home? Here.” She shoved it at him.

  “No way,” he said, pushing it back toward her. “I wouldn’t ride your stupid bike now. It’s a girl’s bike, anyway.”

  “It is not,” she insisted. “How is it a girl’s bike?”

  Evan ignored the question and, pulling at Trigger’s leash to keep the old dog moving, started walking back toward his aunt’s.

  “How is it a girl’s bike?” Andy repeated, walking the bike beside him.

  “Tell you what,” Evan said. “Let’s go back to my aunt’s house and open up the can. I’ll let you mess with it for a while.”

  “Gee, swell,” Andy said sarcastically. “You’re a great guy, Evan.”

  “I know,” he said, grinning.

  Kathryn was seated in the big armchair in the living room when Evan and Andy arrived. Who is she talking to? he wondered, hearing her voice. She seemed to be arguing excitedly with someone.

  Leading Andy into the room, Evan saw that it was just Sarabeth, the black cat. As Evan entered, the cat turned and haughtily walked out of the room.

  Kathryn stared at Evan and Andy, a look of surprise on her face. “This is Andy,” Evan said, gesturing to his new friend.

  “What have you got there?” Kathryn asked, ignoring Andy and reaching a large hand out for the blue can of Monster Blood.

  Evan reluctantly handed it to her. Frowning, she rolled it around in her hand, stopping to read the label, moving her lips as she read. She held the can for the longest time, seeming to study it carefully, then finally handed it back to Evan.

  As Evan took it back and started to his room with Andy, he heard Kathryn say something to him in a low whisper. He couldn’t quite hear what she had said. It sounded like, “Be careful.” But he wasn’t sure.

  He turned to see Sarabeth staring at him from the doorway, her yellow eyes glowing in the dim light.

  “My aunt is completely deaf,” Evan explained to Andy as they climbed the stairs.

  “Does that mean you can play your stereo as loud as you want?” Andy asked.

  “I don’t think Aunt Kathryn has a stereo,” Evan said.

  “That’s too bad,” Andy said, walking around Evan’s room, pulling back the window curtains and looking down on Trigger, huddled unhappily in his pen.

  “Is she really your great-aunt?” Andy asked. “She doesn’t look very old.”

  “It’s the black hair,” Evan replied, setting the can of Monster Blood on the desk in the center of the room. “It makes her look young.”

  “Hey—look at all these old books on magic stuff!” Andy exclaimed. “I wonder why your aunt has all these.”

  She pulled one of the heavy, old volumes from the shelf and blew away a layer of dust from the top. “Maybe your aunt plans to come up here and cast a spell on you while you’re sleeping, and turn you into a newt.”

  “Maybe,” Evan replied, grinning. “What is a newt, anyway?”

  Andy shrugged. “Some kind of lizard, I think.” She flipped through the yellowed pages of the old book. “I thought you said there was nothing to do here,” she told Evan. “You could read all these cool books.”

  “Thrills and chills,” Evan said sarcastically.

  Replacing the book on the shelf, Andy came over to the desk and stood next to Evan, her eyes on the can of Monster Blood. “Open it up. It’s so old. It’s probably all disgusting and rotten.”

  “I hope so,” Evan said. He picked up the can and studied it. “No instructions.”

  “Just pull the top off,” she said impatiently.

  He tugged at it. It wouldn’t budge.

  “Maybe you need a can opener or something,” she said.

  “Very helpful,” he muttered, studying the label again. “Look at this. No instructions. No ingredients. Nothing.”

  “Of course not. It’s Monster Blood!” she exclaimed, imitating Count Dracula. She grabbed Evan’s neck and pretended to strangle him.

  He laughed. “Stop! You’re not helping.”

  He slammed the can down on the desktop—and the lid popped off.

  “Hey—look!” he cried.

  She let go of his neck, and they both peered inside the can.

  8

  The substance inside the can was bright green. It shimmered like Jell-O in the light from the ceiling fixture.

  “Touch it,” Andy said.

  But before Evan had a chance, she reached a finger in and poked it. “It’s cold,” she said. “Touch it. It’s really cold.”

  Evan poked it with his finger. It was cold, thicker than Jell-O, heavier.

  He pushed his finger beneath the surface. When he pulled his finger out, it made a loud sucking noise.

  “Gross,” Andy said.

  Evan shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.”

  “I’ll bet it glows in the dark,” Andy said, hurrying over to the light switch by the door. “It looks like the green that glows in the dark.”

  She turned off the ceiling light, but late afternoon sunlight still poured in through the window curtains. “Try the closet,” she instructed excitedly.

  Evan carried the can into the closet. Andy followed and closed the door. “Yuck. Mothballs,” she cried. “I can’t breathe.”

  The Monster Blood definitely glowed in the dark. A circular ray of green light seemed to shine from the can.

  “Wow. That’s way cool,” Andy said, holding her nose to keep out the pungent aroma of the mothballs.

  “I’ve had other stuff that did this,” Evan said, more than a little disappointed. “It was called Alien Stuff or Yucky Glop, something like that.”

  “Well, if you don’t want it, I’ll take it,” Andy replied.

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want it,” Evan said quickly.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Andy begged.

  Evan pushed open the door and they rushed out of the closet, slamming the door shut behind them. Both of them sucked in fresh air for a few seconds.

  “Whew, I hate that smell!” Evan declared. He looked around to see that Andy had taken a handful of Monster Blood from the can.

  She squeezed it in her palm. “It feels even colder outside the can,” she said, grinning at him. “Look. When you squeeze it flat, it pops right back.”

  “Yeah. It probably bounces, too,” Evan said, unimpressed. “Try bouncing it against the floor. All those things bounce like rubber.”

  Andy rolled the glob of Monster Blood into a ball and dropped it to the floor. It bounced back up into her hand. She bounced it a little harder. This time it rebounded against the wall and went flying out the bedroom door.

  “It bounces really well,” she said, chasing it out into the hall. “Let’s see if it stretches.” She grabbed it with both hands and pulled, stretching it
into a long string. “Yep. It stretches, too.”

  “Big deal,” Evan said. “The stuff I had before bounced and stretched really well, too. I thought this stuff was going to be different.”

  “It stays cold, even after it’s been in your hand,” Andy said, returning to the room.

  Evan glanced at the wall and noticed a dark, round stain by the floorboard. “Uh-oh. Look, Andy. That stuff stains.”

  “Let’s take it outside and toss it around,” she suggested.

  “Okay,” he agreed. “We’ll go out back. That way, Trigger won’t be so lonely.”

  Evan held out the can, and Andy replaced the ball of Monster Blood. Then they headed downstairs and out to the backyard, where they were greeted by Trigger, who acted as if they’d been away for at least twenty years.

  The dog finally calmed down, and sat down in the shade of a tree, panting noisily. “Good boy,” Evan said softly. “Take it easy. Take it easy, old fella.”

  Andy reached into the can and pulled out a green glob. Then Evan did the same. They rolled the stuff in their hands until they had two ball-shaped globs. Then they began to play catch with them.

  “It’s amazing how they don’t lose their shape,” Andy said, tossing a green ball high in the air.

  Evan shielded his eyes from the late afternoon sun and caught the ball with one hand. “All this stuff is the same,” he said. “It isn’t so special.”

  “Well, I think it’s cool,” Andy said defensively.

  Evan’s next toss was too high. The green ball of gunk sailed over Andy’s outstretched hands.

  “Whoa!” Andy cried.

  “Sorry,” Evan called.

  They both stared as the ball bounced once, twice, then landed right in front of Trigger.

  Startled, the dog jumped to his feet and lowered his nose to sniff it.

  “No, boy!” Evan called. “Leave it alone. Leave it alone, boy!”

  As disobedient as ever, Trigger lowered his head and licked the glowing green ball.

  “No, boy! Drop! Drop!” Evan called, alarmed.

  He and Andy both lunged toward the dog.

  But they were too slow.

  Trigger picked up the ball of Monster Blood in his teeth and began chewing it.

  “No, Trigger!” Evan shouted. “Don’t swallow it. Don’t swallow!”

  Trigger swallowed it.

  “Oh, no!” Andy cried, balling her hands into fists at her sides. “Now there isn’t enough left for us to share!”

  But that wasn’t what was troubling Evan. He bent down and pried apart the dog’s jaws. The green blob was gone. Swallowed.

  “Stupid dog,” Evan said softly, releasing the dog’s mouth.

  He shook his head as troubling thoughts poured into his mind.

  What if the stuff makes Trigger sick? Evan wondered.

  What if the stuff is poison?

  9

  “Are we going to bake that pie today?” Evan asked his aunt, writing the question on a pad of lined yellow paper he had found on the desk in his room.

  Kathryn read the question while adjusting her black ponytail. Her face was as white as cake flour in the morning sunlight filtering through the kitchen window.

  “Pie? What pie?” she replied coldly.

  Evan’s mouth dropped open. He decided not to remind her.

  “Go play with your friends,” Kathryn said, still coldly, petting Sarabeth’s head as the black cat walked by the breakfast table. “Why do you want to stay inside with an old witch?”

  It was three days later. Evan had tried to be friendly with his aunt. But the more he tried, the colder she had become.

  She’s mean. She’s really mean, he thought, as he ate the last spoonful of cereal from his bowl of shredded wheat. That was the only cereal she had. Evan struggled to choke it down every morning. Even with milk, the cereal was so dry and she wouldn’t even let him put sugar on it.

  “Looks like it might rain,” Kathryn said, and took a long sip of the strong tea she had brewed. Her teeth clicked noisily as she drank.

  Evan turned his eyes to the bright sunlight outside the window. What made her think it was going to rain?

  He glanced back at her, seated across from him at the small kitchen table. For the first time, he noticed the pendant around her neck. It was cream-colored and sort of bone-shaped.

  It is a bone, Evan decided.

  He stared hard at it, trying to decide if it was a real bone, from some animal maybe, or a bone carved out of ivory. Catching his stare, Kathryn reached up with a large hand and tucked the pendant inside her blouse.

  “Go see your girlfriend. She’s a pretty one,” Kathryn said. She took another long sip of tea, again clicking her teeth as she swallowed.

  Yes. I’ve got to get out of here, Evan thought. He pushed his chair back, stood up, and carried his bowl to the sink.

  I can’t take much more of this, Evan thought miserably. She hates me. She really does.

  He hurried up the stairs to his room, where he brushed his curly red hair. Staring into the mirror, he thought of the call he had received from his mother the night before.

  She had called right after dinner, and he could tell immediately from her voice that things weren’t going well down in Atlanta.

  “How’s it going, Mom?” he had asked, so happy to hear her voice, even though she was nearly a thousand miles away.

  “Slowly,” his mother had replied hesitantly.

  “What do you mean? How’s Dad? Did you find a house?” The questions seemed to pour out of him like air escaping a balloon.

  “Whoa. Slow down,” Mrs. Ross had replied. She sounded tired. “We’re both fine, but it’s taking a little longer to find a house than we thought. We just haven’t found anything we like.”

  “Does that mean—” Evan started.

  “We found one really nice house, very big, very pretty,” his mother interrupted. “But the school you’d go to wasn’t very good.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. I don’t have to go to school,” Evan joked.

  He could hear his father saying something in the background. His mother covered the receiver to reply.

  “When are you coming to pick me up?” Evan asked eagerly.

  It took his mother awhile to answer. “Well… that’s the problem,” she said finally. “We may need a few more days down here than we thought. How’s it going up there, Evan? Are you okay?”

  Hearing the bad news that he’d have to stay even longer with Kathryn had made Evan feel like screaming and kicking the wall. But he didn’t want to upset his mother. He told her he was fine and that he’d made a new friend.

  His father had taken the phone and offered a few encouraging words. “Hang in there,” he had said just before ending the conversation.

  I’m hanging in, Evan had thought glumly.

  But hearing his parents’ voices had made him even more homesick.

  Now it was the next morning. Putting down his hairbrush, he examined himself quickly in his dresser mirror. He was wearing denim cutoffs and a red Gap T-shirt.

  Downstairs, he hurried through the kitchen, where Kathryn appeared to be arguing with Sarabeth, ran out the back door, then jogged to the backyard to get Trigger. “Hey, Trigger!”

  But the dog was asleep, lying on his side in the center of his run, gently snoring.

  “Don’t you want to go to Andy’s house?” Evan asked quietly.

  Trigger stirred, but didn’t open his eyes.

  “Okay. See you later,” Evan said. He made sure Trigger’s water bowl was filled, then headed to the front of the house.

  He was halfway down the next block, walking slowly, thinking about his parents so far away in Atlanta, when a boy’s voice called, “Hey—you!” And two boys stepped onto the sidewalk in front of him, blocking his way.

  Startled, Evan stared from one boy to the other. They were twins. Identical twins. Both were big, beefy guys, with short, white-blond hair and round, red faces. They were both wearing dark T-shi
rts with the names of heavy-metal bands on the front, baggy shorts, and high-top sneakers, untied, without socks. Evan guessed they were about fourteen or fifteen.

  “Who are you?” one of them asked menacingly, narrowing his pale gray eyes, trying to act tough. Both twins moved closer, forcing Evan to take a big step back.

  These guys are twice my size, Evan realized, feeling a wave of fear sweep over him.

  Are they just acting tough? Or do they really mean to give me trouble?

  “I—I’m staying with my aunt,” he stammered, shoving his hands into his pockets and taking another step back.

  The twins flashed each other quick grins. “You can’t walk on this block,” one of them said, hovering over Evan.

  “Yeah. You’re not a resident,” the other added.

  “That’s a big word,” Evan cracked, then immediately wished he hadn’t said it.

  Why can’t I ever keep my big mouth shut? he asked himself. His eyes surveyed the neighborhood, searching for someone who might come to his aid in case the twins decided to get rough.

  But there was no one in sight. Front doors were closed. Yards were empty. Way down the block, he could see a mailman, heading the other way, too far away to shout to.

  No one around. No one to help him.

  And the two boys, their faces set, their eyes still menacing, began to move in on him.

  10

  “Where do you think you’re going?” one of the twins asked. His hands were balled into fists at his sides. He stepped closer until he was just an inch or two from Evan, forcing Evan to take a few steps back.

  “To see a friend,” Evan replied uncertainly. Maybe these guys were just bluffing.

  “Not allowed,” the twin said quickly, grinning at his brother.

  They both snickered and moved toward Evan, forcing him to back off the curb onto the street.

  “You’re not a resident,” the other one repeated. He narrowed his eyes, trying to look tough.

  “Hey, give me a break, guys,” Evan said. He tried moving to the side, walking on the street, to get around them. But they both moved quickly to keep him from getting away.