Judy and the Beast

by R. L. Stine

  “Who are you?” I demanded. “Why are you in this cabin?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he moved me out of the way and pushed open the cabin door.

  A rush of cold air blew in over both of us. He motioned for me to leave.

  I stopped in the doorway and gazed all around. No sign of the Beast.

  Had he really given up?

  “Do you know that other boy?” I demanded. “The tall boy who wears the black cap?”

  He didn’t answer. Just stared out at the trees. Snowflakes began to fall. They fluttered and danced on the swirling gusts of wind.

  I pulled my hood over my head. “Do you know him? The other boy?” I repeated my question. “Tell me. Tell me why you’re here in this cabin.”

  “You didn’t see me. You’re not supposed to see me,” came the same reply.

  Strange. That’s what the first boy had said.

  I walked out into the snow.

  I scanned the clearing and the trees on the other side to make sure the Beast had gone, and started to trot toward the path. I heard the cabin door close behind me.

  Who was that boy?

  And the boy I had found in my room?

  There was so much I didn’t know.

  But I had cleared up one mystery. I knew now that Baker could turn into a half-human, half-animal beast. And I knew how vicious and dangerous he could be.

  Dad had to know it. Is that why he didn’t want me to come up here?

  But if he did know the truth about Baker, why did he bring Ira here every spring? Why did Dad come at all? Did we really need the money badly enough to make it worth the risk?

  The questions raced through my mind as I ran along the path toward the house. This time, I wasn’t going to let Dad off the hook. This time, I was going to insist on answers.

  I burst into the kitchen from the back door. Warm air surrounded me. It still smelled of bacon from breakfast.

  No one there. I tugged back my hood and raced through the front rooms to the stairway. Shaking snow off the shoulders of my parka, I darted up the stairs.

  “Ira? Are you up here?” I shouted down the long hallway. “Ira?”

  The door to his room was closed. “Ira, are you in there?”

  I shoved open the door and strode inside. “Ira?”

  Not here. His bed had been made. His pajamas and the other clothes he had tossed onto the floor were gone. I checked the closet. Empty. “Ira, where are you?” I said, talking to myself.

  Back in the hall, I struggled to catch my breath. Was Ira with Dad? Or was he still somewhere in the house doing carpentry work?

  It was time to get some answers from Dad.

  I knew he wasn’t feeling exactly right. And I knew he was probably feeling very sorry for himself now. He hated to stay in bed.

  But none of that mattered to me. I had to know the truth. I needed answers to all my questions.

  I stepped into Dad’s room. “Dad, you have to talk to me,” I said. “I know—”

  I stopped.

  Where was he?

  He wasn’t in his bed. My eyes scanned the room. The crutches weren’t against the wall where I had seen them last. His closet door was closed.

  “Dad—?”

  I heard a cough. And turned back to the door.

  Harvard stepped into the room, adjusting his tie. “Hello, Miss Judy,” he said. He spread his hand over his mouth and coughed again.

  “Harvard, where—?” I started.

  “Are you looking for your father and your brother?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Yes, I am. I need to talk to my dad right away.”

  His sad, dark-ringed eyes locked on mine. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “They left.”

  “No!” I cried. “They couldn’t! They wouldn’t leave without me!”

  Harvard sighed. “I’m so sorry. They had to leave, Miss Judy.”

  “No. No. No,” I kept repeating, shaking my head. “Where are they, Harvard? I know they wouldn’t leave without me.”

  I could feel the blood pulsing at my temples. I suddenly felt cold all over. I knew he was lying. He had to be lying.

  “Baker asked them to leave,” Harvard said, his dark eyes watery as they gazed hard at me.

  “But they wouldn’t go without me!” I shrieked. “That’s impossible!”

  I brushed past him into the hall. I ran into Dad’s room.

  Yes. The crutches were gone. I pulled open his closet door. Empty. I saw a single white sock on the closet floor. Nothing else.

  No. No. No way.

  I tried the dresser against the wall. The top drawer was stuck shut. I tugged out the second drawer. Nothing inside. The bottom drawer was empty, too.

  No. No way they would leave without me.

  With a frantic cry, I ran to Ira’s room. I searched everywhere. I even got down on the floor and searched under the bed.

  Nothing there. No sign he was ever in the room.

  My brain was spinning. I struggled to think of a reason why the two of them would leave me here. Leave me here without even saying good-bye.

  I couldn’t think of one.

  Had Baker scared them away?

  They had to know Baker is the Beast. Did he force them to leave me here by threatening them? Terrifying them?

  I slumped back to my room. Harvard had left. I closed the door behind me and dropped onto the edge of the bed. I lowered my head to my hands, shut my eyes, and tried to think.

  But the more I thought, the more my panic grew.

  I knew I was in terrible danger. Alone in this house with the Beast.

  Dad and Ira couldn’t protect me.

  Is there anyone here who can help me?

  Hilda flashed into my mind. Would she help me get away from her husband, the Beast? Would she help me go after Ira and my Dad?

  Hilda was the only person I could try.

  I crossed the room and started to open the bedroom door.

  The knob turned in my hand, but the door wouldn’t slide open.

  I tried again, turning the knob the other way and tugging harder.

  No.

  No.

  The door was locked. Someone had locked me in.

  Trapped in this frightening old mansion with the Beast!

  Who locked me in this room? It had to be Harvard.

  But why?

  What did the Beast plan to do to me? Now that I knew Baker’s secret, what did he have in mind for me?

  It couldn’t be anything good.

  My hands were ice-cold. I clasped them in front of me and walked to the window.

  I peered down to the back lawn below. I was up too high. No way I could jump or lower myself to the ground.

  And if I did somehow escape the house, where would I go? There was no village or town up here. No one else who lived this high up the mountain.

  I spun around when I heard a soft knock on the door.

  I heard the click of keys, and then the door scraped open. Harvard poked his bald head into the room. “Baker would like to see you now,” he said.

  He stood holding the doorknob, waiting for me to walk over to him.

  But I crossed my arms in front of me and didn’t move from the window.

  “Why are you doing this?” I cried. “Why are you following his orders? Don’t you know what he is?”

  Harvard nodded. “I know what he is, Miss Judy. I’ve worked here for thirty years.” He motioned for me to move.

  I knew I couldn’t just stand there by the wall staring at him. So I followed him out into the hall.

  He gripped my arm as we started down the winding staircase.

  I knew each step took me closer to my doom.

  “Harvard, please,” I choked out. “Won’t you help me? Help me escape this place?”

  He was silent for a long moment. We followed the stairway down. “I can’t,” he answered finally. He kept his eyes straight ahead. “We have to listen to him and obey him.”

  We were nearly at the bottom.
A scream burst from my throat. “NOOOO!”

  I jerked my arm free from his grasp—and ran.

  “Come back!” His shoes thudding on the steps, Harvard came after me.

  I hit the floor running. But where should I go?

  Which way? Which way?

  My eyes darted from one hall to the other. Finally, I forced myself to take off, racing away from Baker’s wing of the house, away from his office and dining room.

  My shoes slapped against the dark carpet. The stern faces on the tall oil paintings flew past me in a dark blur.

  I’ve got to get out of this house, I told myself. It’s my only chance.

  I turned a corner—and let out a scream.

  The two boys appeared from out of nowhere to block my path. The boys I had seen before. They each grabbed one of my arms, holding me tightly in place.

  I couldn’t slow my panting breaths. I stood there for a long moment, waiting for my shock to wear off. Then I gave a hard tug backward, trying to free myself.

  “Get off me!” I yelled. “Let me go!”

  I wasn’t strong enough to pull away from them. I shoved my head against the tall boy’s arm and tried to bite him.

  “Stop fighting!” he cried in a loud whisper. He gazed over my shoulder. Was Harvard charging toward us down the hall?

  “Come with us. Hurry! We’ll help you,” he said.

  Should I trust them?

  I knew I didn’t have a choice. They each held one of my arms as we started to run down the hall. We bumped shoulders as we ran. They swung around into another long hallway, and I had to follow.

  “Where are you taking me?” I demanded.

  They kept their eyes straight ahead. “Don’t worry,” the boy in black said. “We’re helping you.”

  “Don’t fight us,” the other boy said. “You’ll be okay.”

  Our running footsteps echoed off the walls and high ceiling. The blond guy kept falling a little behind, causing me to stumble.

  “Who are you?” I demanded, shouting over the ringing sound of our shoes on the carpet. “Where are we going? Why are you helping me?”

  They acted as if they didn’t hear me. They half carried me over the floor as we ran. At the end of the hall, they suddenly stopped.

  I struggled to catch my breath. We stood in front of a dark wooden door. The door had a brass nameplate on it. I squinted to read it.

  BAKER GRENDEL.

  The boys weren’t rescuing me. They had taken me right to Baker’s office.

  They had taken me to my doom.

  “Noooo!”

  A loud gasp escaped my throat.

  I turned and head-butted the blond boy in the stomach. He groaned—grabbed his belly—and stumbled into the other boy.

  I tugged free, dodged away from them. And started running again.

  I’m going to run forever, I thought. Run back and forth through these halls. Until …

  Until what?

  I knew I had to get out of the house. No way I could be safe until I got away from here.

  I spun around a corner and kept going. I could hear Aurora barking in the distance. I saw a side entrance at the end of the hall.

  Yes!

  If only I could get there before they stopped me again.

  I was panting hard. My legs throbbed with every running step.

  I was a few feet from the door when I heard a loud thud. Several thuds.

  Someone pounding on the other side of a door near the entrance.

  I stopped. I struggled to catch my breath.

  I stared at the closed door. And listened to the pounding.

  And then a voice: “Let us out! Can you hear me? Let us out!”

  “Ira!” I cried.

  “Judy? Is that you?” Ira shouted.

  “Judy, let me out! Hurry!” Dad called.

  “I-I can’t believe it!” I stammered. “You’re here. He locked you in.”

  I dove for the door. A key was in the lock. I grabbed it with a trembling hand and twisted it.

  The door burst open. Ira and my dad came rushing out. Dad was leaning on his crutches. His face was red. His eyes scanned up and down the hall.

  I threw my arms around him. “Dad, why—?” I started.

  He shook his head. “No time to explain. You’re not safe. We—”

  Ira stood stiffly, his back against the wall. His eyes were wide, and he had the strangest expression on his face.

  Was it fear? Was it confusion? I couldn’t tell.

  “You’re not safe,” Dad said, glancing to the front door.

  A weird sound escaped Ira’s open mouth. Something between a choked cry and a gasp.

  “Not safe,” Dad repeated, eyes wide with alarm.

  And to my surprise, he grabbed Ira by the shoulders and pushed him backward. Dad tried to push Ira back into the room.

  “Dad, what are you doing?” I screamed.

  He shoved Ira again. “Not safe,” Dad repeated.

  And then Ira shoved him back.

  One of Dad’s crutches fell to the floor. Dad stumbled against the wall.

  And I saw my brother start to change.

  It only took seconds. Ira’s face disappeared in a thick layer of fur. Dark hair sprouted over his hands and throat.

  He opened his jaws to reveal two rows of jagged fangs. He clawed the air with fur-covered animal paws.

  “Oh noooo,” I moaned.

  Ira tossed back his head and roared. The roar echoed down the hall and rang in my ears.

  And then Baker rumbled into view. His voice rose over the roar. “What have you done?” He came running toward us. “The Beast is loose! The Beast is loose!”

  My brother. My brother Ira was the Beast.

  I stood there openmouthed, not breathing, not moving. Staring at the half-human creature, my brother.

  He swiped the air with a big paw and uttered another angry roar.

  I gasped. His eyes were on me now. Did he plan to attack?

  Baker ran up to us, breathing noisily. He shielded his face with both arms as the Beast swung a paw at him.

  “Start whistling,” Baker shouted. “Everyone—whistle! Hurry!”

  I didn’t understand. But I didn’t hesitate. I pressed my lips together and began to whistle as loud as I could.

  Dad whistled, too. And Baker joined in.

  The shrill sounds rang off the walls.

  Ira’s beast eyes went wide. He opened his jaws in an angry growl. But the growl grew softer, weaker before it ended.

  He covered both furry ears. Pressed his paws against them. He appeared to shrink. He sank back weakly against the wall. And dropped to his knees.

  We kept whistling, whistling a rising, falling sound, like a shrill siren.

  Holding his ears, the Beast curled in on himself. He shut his eyes and uttered a soft howl of pain.

  Ira never could stand my whistling. And now I knew why. It was because of the beast part of him. The Beast hated my whistling.

  Quickly the fur on his face faded back into his skin. His hands were pale again as all the fur vanished. I couldn’t take my eyes away. I didn’t want to see this. I didn’t want to see any of it.

  But in a few seconds, I was staring at Ira’s normal face, his normal body. Huddled on the floor, he curled against the wall. His eyes were shut. His mouth was drawn into a tight grimace of pain.

  Baker gave a signal, and we stopped whistling. Ira’s body heaved in a violent shudder.

  “Judy,” Dad said, “we tried to keep it from you. We tried to keep you from finding out. We didn’t want you to know.”

  “Take Ira away,” Baker ordered my dad. “Take him out to the cabin. I’ll come visit him later.”

  Leaning on his crutches, Dad reached down and pulled Ira to his feet. Ira didn’t resist. He kept his head lowered and his shoulders hunched. And he followed Dad out the door.

  I hugged myself, trying to calm my racing heart. I struggled to catch my breath.

  Baker watched Dad and Ira
leave the house. Then he turned to me. “Come with me, Judy,” he said.

  I pulled back. Alone now, I didn’t know what to do.

  “Come with me,” Baker repeated, motioning for me to follow him.

  I swallowed hard and took a few steps toward him.

  Now what?

  Staying a few feet behind him, I followed Baker back down the long hall to his office. I stopped at the door, but he motioned for me to come in.

  The room had a thick purple carpet and purple drapes on a window that started at the floor and rose to the ceiling.

  A wide glass-topped desk stood by one wall. Across from it, two black leather chairs.

  “Sit down, Judy,” he said softly.

  “I don’t want to sit down!” I cried. “I want to get out of here. I-I don’t understand—”

  He motioned to the chairs with one big hand. “I’m going to explain it all. Just have a seat, okay?”

  I had no choice. I dropped into one of the chairs.

  He sat down heavily behind the desk and leaned toward me. “I know what you thought,” he said. “You thought I was the Beast.”

  I opened my mouth but no words came out.

  “That’s okay,” he said softly. “You can tell the truth.”

  “Well … y-yes,” I stammered. “I thought you were the Beast.”

  “You have to trust me,” he started. “I—”

  “I can’t trust you,” I said, my voice high and shrill. “Why did you lock up my dad and Ira?”

  “Because I knew you were in danger,” Baker replied. “I did it for your own safety, Judy.”

  He swept a hand back through the tangles of his white hair. “I’m so sorry you had to learn the truth. As your dad said, we tried to keep you from finding out.”

  “That my brother Ira is the Beast?” I said.

  He nodded.

  I took a deep breath. “Ira was the beast that chased me in the woods?”

  He nodded again. “Yes. I was keeping him in that cabin where I treat my patients.”

  “But—” I started.

  He leaned closer over the desktop. “Judy, listen to me,” he said softly. “Why do you think your dad brings Ira up here every spring? For me to treat. I’m the only scientist who knows how to deal with these young people who have the Beast disease, who can’t help themselves … People who become beasts every spring.”