by R. L. Stine
Breathing hard, my heart pounding, I grabbed one of my heaviest textbooks. And I slammed it down onto the Grool.
“Die!” I shouted. “Please! Die!”
I raised the book high. Pounded the Grool with it.
Again. Again.
I pounded hard enough to kill anything.
Finally, I stopped. Gasping for breath, my arms aching, I stared down at what I’d done.
Yuck. What a mess.
Brown and pink shreds of Grool littered my desk.
I had smashed it to pieces.
“Yes!” I cried breathlessly. “Yes!”
Finally! I had finally destroyed the evil creature!
“Yes!” I cried again.
But the cry stuck in my throat.
As the pink and brown shreds started to move, I stared down in horror—and began to shake all over.
17
“This can’t be happening,” I whispered.
But it was.
The pieces—the shreds of Grool—they were sliding across the desktop. Slithering. Rolling together.
Coming back together.
Forming a brown ball. A sponge.
It didn’t take long. A minute at the most.
And now the Grool stared up at me again. And it vibrated so hard that my desk actually began to rock.
Its cruel snicker cut through my shocked silence.
Heh, heh, heh.
“Shut up! Shut up!” I screamed.
But it snickered even louder.
Frantic, I grabbed a dirty sock from the clothes hamper. I used it to pick up the Grool. And then I hurled the thing back into the cage.
Heh, heh, heh.
With a cry, I threw myself face down on my bed and covered my ears. “Will I have this bad luck for the rest of my life? Is there anything I can do?”
I was so frightened. So angry. So confused.
I couldn’t even pretend to be my usual cheery self.
When Aunt Louise took me and Daniel out to an ice-cream parlor, I couldn’t even finish a small butterscotch sundae. Usually, I’m good for a triple decker.
But how could I ever be happy again? I was stuck with the Grool—forever.
“Wake up, Kat! Wake up!” A frantic voice whispered in my ear.
I slowly raised my head off the pillow. “Huh?”
Daniel was waving his bookbag back and forth about an inch above my head. “Get that away!” I shouted, grabbing for it.
“Hey, I’m only trying to help you,” he replied, snatching the pack away. “You’re going to be late for school. You’d better get moving!”
He ran out of the room.
I tore the covers off and raced to the closet. I slipped on my Save the Earth sweatshirt and purple flowered leggings. Then I remembered.
“Daniel, you little dweeb!” I bellowed. “We have no school today! There’s a teachers’ conference!”
He peeked back into my room.
“Got you!” he gloated.
I hurled a pillow at his head and hit him in the face. A nice shot.
“You’re a bad sport,” he said, laughing. “Carlo’s coming over after breakfast. We can play Mega Monster Warriors.”
I slammed the door in his face.
Daniel’s stupid tricks usually don’t bother me too much.
And a day off from school always puts me in a great mood.
But how could I enjoy myself? I just kept wondering what bad thing was going to happen next.
What bad luck would the evil Grool bring today?
After breakfast, I hung around on the back porch, reading a magazine. And trying to ignore Daniel’s and Carlo’s shrieks and wild laughter as they played computer games.
I really missed Killer. He usually sits next to me when I read.
After about an hour, I got bored. I decided to go up to my room and work on my social studies assignment.
I had to write an essay for Mrs. Vanderhoff. My Family and What They Mean to Me.
But I kept thinking about the Grool and how it was totally ruining my family.
So far, all I had written was: “I’m Kat Merton and my family means an awful lot to me.”
Not exactly grade-A material. And the paper was due tomorrow morning.
I decided to take a break. I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of chocolate milk and grabbed a handful of oatmeal cookies.
On my way back upstairs, I peeked into the den. Things seemed very quiet in there.
I didn’t see Carlo. Only Daniel, playing Underwater Adventure Quest.
“Where is Carlo?” I asked.
“Um,” Daniel replied, his eyes glued to the submarines and torpedoes flashing across the computer screen.
“Was my question too hard for you?” I asked sarcastically. “I’ll go slower now. Where… is… Carlo?”
“Home,” he mumbled.
“Did he get mad because you sank more enemy submarines than he did?” I joked.
Daniel didn’t answer.
I headed upstairs to my room. I set down my milk and cookies. I couldn’t help but glance at the gerbil cage.
It wasn’t what I saw that made a prickle of fear run down my back. It was what I didn’t see.
The cage stood empty.
The Grool was gone.
Escaped.
18
How had it escaped? The Grool had never even tried to get out of its cage before.
In fact, the stupid sponge never seemed very interested in going anywhere.
Why did it disappear now? And where did it go?
And what kind of trouble was it planning to make?
It couldn’t get very far, I told myself. It had no legs.
I started to call to Daniel. But my throat choked with panic.
I frantically started to search for the Grool. I slid on my stomach under the bed. Not there.
I pulled everything out of my closet. I opened dresser drawers. No sign of it.
I checked every inch of the room. I even called out to it: “Here Grool, here Grool.”
No. No way. The creature was gone.
The words from the Encyclopedia of the Weird suddenly flashed into my mind: “Anyone who gives the Grool away will DIE within one day.”
“Daniel!” I shrieked. “Daniel!” I tore downstairs and into the TV room. I shook him so hard, he dropped his computer mouse.
“The Grool is gone!” I cried. “It escaped!”
Daniel turned away from the computer screen. “Excuse me? What do you mean—gone?”
“It’s gone! The cage is empty!” I wailed.
Daniel scrunched up his face, thinking hard. “I know where it is,” he said. “Carlo.”
“Huh?” I cried. “How could you? How could you let Carlo take it?”
“I didn’t let him!” Daniel snapped. “He must have grabbed it when he left. Carlo thinks it’s all a big joke. He said there’s no way a little sponge can do anything bad.”
“What a jerk!” I sputtered. “Maybe we should let him keep the Grool. It would teach him a lesson—a real nasty lesson!”
“Kat, we can’t!” Daniel exclaimed. “He’s my best friend. We have to get the Grool back from him—before something terrible happens!”
Daniel and I pulled our jackets out of the hall closet. Then we ran out to the garage. We jumped on our bikes and pedaled furiously down Maple Lane.
“Where do you think he went?” I shouted.
“Let’s try the school playground,” Daniel suggested. “There’s always a bunch of kids there.”
“Yeah, and Carlo’s a big show-off,” I exclaimed. “He probably went straight to the playground to show off the Grool.”
“He is not a show-off,” Daniel protested.
“Is too!” I argued. Pedaling furiously, I shot way ahead of Daniel.
I made it to Chestnut Street a few minutes later. “Only two more blocks!” I called breathlessly. I slowed down so that Daniel could catch up.
I turned the corner.
“Oh, no!�
�� I screamed.
I squeezed on the brakes. Stopped short.
Who was that lying in the middle of the street?
Was it Carlo?
Yes!
Carlo. Sprawled on his stomach. His arms and legs stretched over the pavement.
“We’re too late!” Daniel cried. “We’re too late!”
19
Our bikes crashed to the ground as Daniel and I leaped off them. We bent over Carlo, calling his name.
“Ohhhh, wow.” Carlo let out a low moan. He clutched his right leg.
“Carlo!” I yelled breathlessly. “What is it? What happened? Are you okay?”
Carlo bent his leg carefully and winced. “My knee really hurts. I twisted it when I fell off my bike.”
I looked up and saw his bike, on its side under a tree.
“How did it happen?” Daniel asked weakly. My brother hates the sight of blood.
“Some of the older kids wanted to race me,” Carlo groaned. “I didn’t really want to race them—but they dared me.”
He sat up, still rubbing his knee. “Man, I was flying! Then, well, I hit some gravel—and skidded into a tree. Those kids all thought it was a riot. They just rode off and left me.”
“Daniel, help me get him up,” I instructed. We put our arms around Carlo and guided him over to the curb.
Then we just sat there, staring at Carlo’s mangled bicycle. The handlebars looked like a giant metal pretzel.
“You know what?” Carlo finally said. “I didn’t even see that stupid tree until I was right on top of it.”
Daniel poked me. I knew he was thinking what I was thinking.
The Grool strikes again.
We had to get the Grool back.
“Carlo, where is the Grool?” I asked.
“Right there in my bike basket.” He pointed.
I reached over the tangled handlebars and felt around the basket with my hand.
And felt again.
Nothing in the basket. Completely empty.
“Carlo, give me a break,” I complained. “There’s no Grool in there. Where is it?” My voice got high and shrill. I could feel the panic sweeping over me.
“Huh? It’s got to be in there!” Carlo declared. “That’s where I stuck it. I was going to take it right home.”
“Oh, sure, Carlo,” I snapped. “Like you weren’t going to bring it to the playground and show it off?”
Carlo hung his head. “Well, maybe for a couple of minutes.”
“Great! Just great!” I fumed. “Because of you, the Grool is missing.”
Daniel leaned close to me, his face pale with fear. “We’ve got to find the Grool, Kat,” he whispered. “Remember what the encyclopedia said. If you don’t find it in a day, you’ll die!”
“I remember,” I replied with a shudder. “But how are we ever going to find it now? Where can it be?”
20
“I don’t even know where to start looking.” I sighed.
“Maybe it fell out of the basket when I hit the tree,” Carlo suggested. “Maybe it rolled somewhere around here.”
Daniel tugged on my sleeve. “Come on,” he urged. “Let’s start looking.”
Carlo stood up. “I’d better get home,” he said. He limped away. Luckily, his house was on the next block.
Daniel and I hunted all over the block. In doorways, underneath cars, in flower beds—anywhere the Grool might have rolled.
No luck.
As we were about to give up, I spotted a sewer grating a few feet away from Carlo’s bike. Could the Grool have tumbled down there?
Daniel saw the sewer, too. “Kat? I’ll bet it rolled down into the sewer! It’s down there. I know it is!”
I dropped to the pavement. On my stomach. I peered into the darkness through the grating.
“It’s way too dark to see anything,” I reported. “Somebody will have to go down there.”
“Uh… somebody? Maybe… maybe I could go,” my brother offered in a shaky voice.
Daniel acts really brave. But I know he’s afraid of a lot of things. Like dark sewers.
He’d freak out down in the sewer.
“No. I’ll do it,” I said. “The Grool knows me better.”
We lifted off the heavy grate. I felt around with my sneaker. It slid against a narrow ladder built into the side of the sewer.
“I guess this is the only way down,” I said softly. “Here I go.”
Slowly, I lowered myself into the dark wet hole. The ladder rungs were wet and slippery. The walls were thick with sewer slime.
“This place really stinks!” I called up. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Squishhhhh!
As I reached the sewer floor, my sneaker landed on something wet and oozy.
“Gross!” I screamed, pulling my foot back up.
“Are you okay?” Daniel called from above. He sounded ten miles away.
“Yeah,” I shouted back. “I think I stepped in a pile of slime. Wow, it’s really dark down here.”
I carefully touched my feet down again, and gripped the ladder tightly with one hand—afraid I would never find my way back if I let go.
It’s too dark, I realized. I’ll never find the Grool down here.
Then I heard it.
Whoa-ahhh. Whoa-ahhhh.
Breathing!
Whoa-ahhh. Whoa-ahhhh.
The Grool! But where?
I held my breath and stood completely still. I concentrated really hard, trying to figure out exactly where in the inky blackness the breathing came from.
Whoa-ahhh. Whoa-ahhhh.
Somewhere to my right?
I knew I had to walk over there and snatch the Grool. But I was afraid to let go of the ladder. Finally, I decided to count my steps there, find the Grool—then count the same number of steps back to the ladder.
I swallowed hard and let go of the ladder. I stepped into the blackness and started counting.
“One… two… three… four…”
The breathing sounded a little closer.
“Five… six…”
I stopped. I listened hard.
“Huh?” I cried to myself. “What’s that scratching sound?” Then I saw the eyes. Not the Grool’s small, round eyes. Big, bright eyes. Several pairs of them. All glowing at me in the dark.
21
The scratching grew louder. The eyes stared up at me.
Yellow eyes. Glowing in the darkness.
I heard a creature scrabble over the floor. Felt something warm and furry brush against my leg.
Were they raccoons? Rats?
I didn’t want to know.
Another one brushed against me. They were all starting to scrape around on the sewer floor. They were growing restless.
I forced myself to breathe.
Turned.
And started to run.
Get me out of here! I thought. Get me out of here before they attack!
My sneakers slid over the damp, slimy floor.
“Please let me find my way out of here,” I prayed as I stumbled through the darkness.
“Oww!”
My knee slammed into something hard.
I cried out and reached for something to lean on.
And caught hold of the ladder.
“Yes! Yes!” I cried happily.
Ignoring my throbbing knee, I scrambled up the slimy rungs. Up, up, up toward the light.
“Daniel—help me out!” I cried.
Daniel leaned down and grabbed my hands. He helped pull me out of that awful hole.
I fell on to the pavement and nearly sobbed with relief.
Daniel dropped down next to me. “Did you get it?” he asked eagerly. “Did you find it?”
I wiped my sludge-covered hands on my jeans. “No,” I told him. “No Grool.”
“I should have gone down there,” he declared. “I definitely would have found it.”
“You definitely would have been terrified!” I replied angrily. “There were an
imals down there. Rats, maybe. Dozens of them.”
“Yeah. Sure,” he said, rolling his eyes. He sighed. “Now what do we do?” He kicked a pebble across the street.
I sighed. “Don’t worry—we’ll find the Grool.”
“But how?” he cried. “We can’t even find Killer. We’ll never find a little sponge.”
I had never seen Daniel this upset. “Daniel, the police will find Killer. I know they will,” I said softly.
“We must have missed the sponge,” he said, ignoring my words. “We have to check everywhere again.”
We started to search again. In the street. In the grass. Behind hedges. Under trees.
Carlo appeared as we were about to give up. He was walking fine. He examined his mangled bike. Then he helped us with our search.
The afternoon sun was settling behind the trees. The air felt cooler. Evening was approaching.
I sank down on the sidewalk, feeling totally hopeless.
The warning in the encyclopedia kept running through my mind. Was it possible? Could it be true? If we didn’t find the Grool, would my life really be over by tomorrow?
“There it is!”
Daniel’s excited shout interrupted my frightening thoughts.
“There it is!” my brother cried happily. “I see it! I see the Grool!”
22
Daniel took off, running full speed.
“Way to go!” My heart pounding, I leaped up from the sidewalk. “You are the most awesome brother in the entire universe!”
I was so excited and happy, I threw my arms around Carlo. “He saved my life!” I shouted. “He saved my life!”
“Hey—give me a break!” Carlo cried, squirming away.
I hurried after Daniel. I watched him bend down to pick up something. Something small and round and brown.
But a gust of wind rolled the Grool away from him.
“Hey—!” he cried out. He stumbled after it. The wind blew it out of his reach again.
“Got you!” Daniel cried, pouncing on it.
“Bring it here!” I yelled.
“Oh, wow,” he murmured. His face fell. “Sorry about that. It’s not the Grool.”
I grabbed the thing from his hands. “No, it’s not,” I whispered sadly.