Octo-Man and the Headless Monster

by Jane Kelley

  “Yes. We’re just finishing our snack,” I say.

  I put the cauliflower in M.L.’s backpack. I try to zip it. The zipper gets stuck. I yank at the tab. M.L. grabs it from me. “Stop. You’ll rip it.”

  Mom comes into the room.

  Marco and M.L. are frowning. Hmmm. I wonder why. I don’t have time to worry about them. We need to hurry.

  “Do you want a snack that isn’t cauliflower?” Mom says.

  “No, thank you,” Marco says.

  “We want to go home,” M.L. says.

  Mom looks puzzled. “Okay. Are you ready, Walter?”

  I think about what I need. Plan? Yes. Gurgle? Yes. Monster head? Yes.

  Clint McCool is ready to be in the movies!

  5

  Trouble on Twelfth Street

  Mom puts the leash on Hercules. He barks. He licks Mom’s face again.

  I forgot Hercules is coming, too. This is terrible! Dogs don’t know how to be in a movie. What if he jumps on me? What if he knocks off my monster head? What if he goes wild chasing pigeons? You never know what a dog will do.

  Hercules pulls Mom down the street. I hurry after them. Marco and M.L. follow. I hear them whispering. It’s okay. They’ll stop being mad at me after I’m in the movie. They’ll think it’s cool, having a movie-star best friend.

  We’re on Twelfth Street. I can see Octo-Man. His eighth arm is taped on. The bald man hands Octo-Man the jar of brains. I’m so excited.

  The guard walks toward us. Oh no! He’ll send me away before I can put on my disguise! I push my Invisibility button. Three times! Nothing happens.

  The guard comes closer. Does he see me?

  I hide behind Hercules. Hercules won’t stand still! I hold his collar. My hand gets tangled in the leash. The leash comes off. Hercules runs toward a food table.

  “Hercules! Come back!” Mom shouts.

  Mom and the guard chase after him.

  What a good dog! Now’s my chance. I take the cauliflower out of M.L.’s backpack.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” M.L. says.

  I hand my cap to Marco.

  “You might need those buttons,” Marco says.

  “Nope. I’ll be great!” I grab the cauliflower by its leaves. I pull Marco’s shirt over my face. I hold it up with my teeth.

  On the outside, I look calm—for a monster. Inside, I’m jumping with excitement.

  I hear Mom say, “Thank you for catching Hercules.”

  “No problem,” the guard says.

  Then Mom says, “Let’s go, kids. Wait. Where’s Walter?”

  Walter has disappeared! A dangerous monster with extra brains staggers down Twelfth Street. “Arggggh, blergggle, arggggh.”

  “Walter! Come back here!”

  Is Mom shouting? I can’t hear much inside the shirt—except my gurgling noises. “Argghh, blergggle, argghh.”

  I hear more shouting. But I don’t hear people screaming with terror and delight.

  Hmmm. Maybe I need to be scarier. I wiggle the cauliflower. I hear something snap. The leaves break. The cauliflower falls off my head. It rolls down the street.

  I chase after my brain. I wave my arms. They wouldn’t know what to do if they lost their brain. My legs are kicking, too. This is brilliant! My whole body is out of control. The guard can’t grab me.

  I pick up the cauliflower. I put my brain back on my head. I say, “Nine times nine is eighty-one.” That’s the smartest thing I can think of at the moment.

  There’s Octo-Man. I lurch toward him. “Scrrrump trozzle pluuuuu?”

  That means Nice to meet you in monster talk.

  Before Octo-Man can answer, the guard grabs me by the back of the shirt.

  I try to pull away. I have to get to Octo-Man. The shirt rips. I fall forward. I crash into Octo-Man. He drops the jar. Glass breaks. His brains ooze all over the sidewalk.

  Everybody screams. It’s totally amazing.

  “Walter, what have you done?” Mom shrieks.

  I’m lying on the sidewalk. I can’t believe it. Usually, my plans get out of control. But this time, they didn’t. It happened just like I imagined.

  “No, no, no!” the bald man shouts.

  Why is he mad? Did they run out of film? Do I need to do it again?

  I jump up. I’m ready.

  The bald man stares at me for a moment. Then he shouts, “Get that kid out of here!”

  6

  Clint McCool Saves the Day?!?

  The bald man kicks the cauliflower.

  Mom rushes over. “Walter didn’t mean to cause so much trouble.”

  “I told you to stay away! You broke the jar! The brain is ruined! The movie is ruined!” the bald man shouts.

  “Come on, Walter,” Mom says. “We have to take Marco and M.L. home.”

  I shake my head. I don’t want my friends to leave.

  Marco and M.L. are staring at my shoulder. I look down. Marco’s favorite shirt is ripped.

  I feel terrible. I wanted to be in the movie. But I ruined it. For everybody. I look at all the sad faces. Octo-Man’s eight arms all droop.

  Now I really need to save the day. But my cap won’t help. I can’t do anything. Except say I’m sorry.

  I walk over to the bald man. “I’m sorry I ruined your movie. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to be part of it. I love the monster you made. Octo-Man is still amazing. Even without the brain in a jar.”

  “He has to steal something,” the bald man says.

  “Monsters don’t care about brains. Can’t he steal something else?” I say.

  “Like what? A cauliflower?” the bald man says.

  I shrug. I don’t know.

  Mom gives me a hug. It feels really good. Now I have to apologize to Marco and M.L. Saying you’re sorry is much harder than all the other ways Clint McCool usually has to save the day.

  I walk toward my friends.

  Marco and M.L. won’t even look at me. I guess their shoes are doing something interesting.

  I twist the ripped shirt. I want them to be my friends again. More than anything.

  Zing, zong, zing. Brain flash!

  I run back to the bald man. “I know what Octo-Man wants: friends.”

  “Friends?”

  “You know, people to like him. No matter if he messes up. Which he shouldn’t. But sometimes he does.”

  The bald man doesn’t say anything. He frowns.

  I guess he’s still mad. I want to tell Marco and M.L. what I just figured out. I walk over to them.

  The bald man yells, “Hey! Kid. Where do you think you’re going?”

  I can’t believe I’m in trouble again! Well, actually I can, since I usually am.

  “Come back here!” the bald man shouts.

  I walk toward him slowly.

  What kind of punishment can he give me? He isn’t my teacher. He can’t give me more homework. He isn’t my mom. He can’t make me eat the cauliflower.

  I walk past the brain on the sidewalk. I think it’s fake. Or did it come from a kid with too many ideas?

  “Walter said he was sorry,” Mom says.

  “I know. But what about my movie?” The bald man points at me. “I know all about you. You’d do anything to make life more exciting. Wouldn’t you?”

  My head wobbles yes.

  “I knew a kid just like you. He always got in trouble. He had too many ideas. Do you know what happened to him?”

  I shake my head.

  He swings his arm around. His finger points at the brain on the sidewalk.

  I gasp. Oh no! I was right! They did get the brain from a kid.

  But his arm keeps moving. It stops when he points at himself.

  7

  Clint McCool in the Movies??

  “You were like me?�
�� I say.

  “Real life is boring sometimes,” he whispers to me.

  We both laugh.

  Then he gets serious. “People like us have tons of ideas. That’s the easy part. But when you make movies, you have to focus on one idea.”

  “Just one? No zinging?” I say.

  “Not all the time. Or you won’t get anything done. Don’t let your ideas run wild. Be their boss. Can you do that?”

  I nod. “I can try.”

  “Good. Because you’re right. Octo-Man would want a friend.”

  “A grown-up likes my idea?” I stagger backward.

  The bald man catches me. “Would you like to be that friend?”

  I gulp. Me? Be the friend? In the movie? “You mean it?”

  “Yes. We want contrast! We want surprise! And that will be you.” He shakes my hand. “My name is Sam. I’m the director. You have to listen to me. Can you do that?”

  “Yes,” I squeak. I can hardly talk. I squeeze my head. It zings so much. I feel like I really do have extra brains.

  “Great. Now we’d better ask your mom.”

  “MOM!” I run over to her. Sam follows.

  She’s standing with Marco, M.L., and Hercules. “Can I take my son home now?”

  “I’ve got something he needs to do.” Sam talks to Mom. Mom looks shocked.

  “Are you done getting yelled at?” M.L. says.

  “No. I mean, yes,” I say.

  Mom signs some papers.

  “What’s going on, Clint McCool?” Marco says.

  “Is your mom sending you away?” M.L. says.

  Sam grabs my arm. “Come on, kid. We’re losing our light. You’ve got one chance to get it right.”

  “You kids wait here with the guard. I have to go with Walter,” Mom says.

  “Wait! Where are you taking Clint McCool?” Marco says.

  “Don’t worry.” I wave at Marco and M.L. Hercules barks.

  Sam, Mom, and I walk up some stairs. We go inside a building.

  Movie people are sitting around. Octo-Man’s head is on the floor. He stands up when we come in. “Not him again.”

  “Change in plans,” Sam says. “Jim, you’re going to steal the kid. Can you pick him up?”

  Octo-Man lifts me up.

  “Great. How about some wriggling and screaming?” Sam says to me.

  I flail my arms. I shriek like I’m covered in hot lava.

  “How about less wriggling and screaming?” Sam says.

  How could he want less? Then I get it. Clint McCool would be brave. We try it again. I flap my arms and shout, “Eek!”

  “Perfect. Now you need a costume,” Sam says.

  We follow a redheaded woman into another room.

  “Should I get the cauliflower?” I say.

  They laugh. Hmmm. It probably is dirty.

  There’s a rack full of clothes and masks. Octo-Man’s friend will be a monster. But what kind?

  One rubber head has dangling eyeballs. One has oozing scars. One is a giant fly face. It’s really gross. I hope I’ll wear it.

  “I got it!” the redheaded woman says.

  Sam goes over to the rack. “Yes! He’s going to be adorable.”

  Adorable? Hmmm. What kind of monster is that? I wish I had my cap. I need to push the Translator button.

  “Help him get changed,” Sam says to Mom. “We’ll shoot the scene as soon as he’s ready.”

  The redheaded woman holds up a costume.

  I gasp. It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen—a pink polka-dot dress.

  8

  Don’t Be Scared of a Dress!

  The redheaded woman holds up the dress. “This should fit.”

  I have to get away from the pink! I stagger backward. I bump into the rack. It crashes to the ground.

  “I guess Walter changed his mind,” Mom says.

  “Don’t you want to be in the movie?” Sam asks.

  “Yes. But I have a new idea. I’m not Octo-Man’s friend. I’m a monster fighter named Clint McCool. I have a special cap. With buttons for all my superpowers.”

  Sam squats down and looks into my eyes. “What did I say about ideas?”

  “Find one. And stick to it,” I say.

  “Who’s the boss?” Sam says.

  “You are,” I say.

  “Yes. But you are, too. Can you do it?” Sam says. “Can you save the movie?”

  I think about it. Then I nod.

  Mom helps me put on the pink dress. And a hat. With ribbons. And a daisy on top.

  When I’m ready, Octo-Man and I stand in the hall by the front door.

  We wait quietly for Sam’s signal to run outside. We wait. And wait.

  The dress itches. My heart pounds. My brain zings like crazy.

  But I don’t move. I don’t talk. I don’t even make monster noises.

  How can I stand still? I don’t have my cap. I just keep telling myself, Don’t mess up this movie!

  The pink oozes into me. My skin burns. My bones wobble. I tell myself, Don’t mess up this movie! What if I mess up this movie? MESS UP THIS MOVIE!?!!?!

  No! I won’t! Clint McCool can be the boss of himself and save the movie!

  “Action!” Sam shouts.

  Octo-Man picks me up. The door opens. I wriggle and squeal. Octo-Man carries me down the steps and along Twelfth Street.

  “Cut!” Sam shouts.

  Octo-Man puts me down. “Did you get the shot?”

  “Good job, everyone. You got it right on the first try!” Sam shouts.

  I run back inside the building. I rip off the hat and the dress. I put on Marco’s shirt. I’m myself again.

  I go over to where Mom and my friends are waiting. Hercules wags his tail. He’s glad to see me. Marco and M.L. look worried. Marco gives me back my cap.

  “Why were you in that building?” Marco says.

  “Did they lock you up while they finished the movie?” M.L. asks.

  “No. My idea saved the day.” I grin. “So I was in the movie.”

  “What?” Marco says.

  “How?” M.L. says.

  “I told Sam that Octo-Man should steal a friend. Even monsters want friends,” I say.

  “That’s really smart,” Marco says.

  “How did you think of that?” M.L. says.

  “Because I know I need my friends,” I say. “I’m sorry I ripped your shirt, Marco. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, M.L.”

  “That’s okay,” Marco and M.L. say.

  “No, it isn’t. I’m going to do better. You deserve better. You guys are the best!” I say.

  M.L. punches me in the arm. I punch her back. Marco bonks us with his notebook. We’re friends again.

  “But, Clint McCool, you said you were in the movie,” Marco says.

  “I was,” I say.

  “We didn’t see you,” M.L. says.

  “Octo-Man carried a girl down the street,” Marco says.

  M.L.’s eyes get really big. Her smile gets even bigger. She whispers to Marco.

  His glasses fall off. “No way,” he says.

  “Yes. That was Walter. Wearing a dress. That was pink!” M.L. laughs.

  I laugh, too. “Who cares? Clint McCool has defeated a zillion enemies. He can’t be scared of a dress.”

  Sam the director comes over. He shakes my hand. “Good job, kid.”

  “These are my friends. They gave me the idea,” I say.

  “Thanks, kids. That idea saved the movie,” Sam says.

  “Clint McCool saved the movie!” Marco shouts.

  Everybody shouts, “Hooray!” Hercules barks. Mom cheers loudest of all.

  Clint McCool tips his cap. He doesn’t brag about saving the day.

  But my brain i
s zinging. I did something good. No, better than good. Something amazing. I was in the movie. I saved the movie.

  And all I had to do was apologize, have a great idea, wear a dress—and stand still for the longest five minutes of my life.

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