by Unknown
"Daddy's home," Amanda cries happily. "Come along! He'll be very excited to meet you!"
You reach down and touch your paw to Amanda's arm. "Wait a minute. Don't you think you ought to warn him first?"
Amanda looks you up and down, mostly up. "Yes, I see what you mean. Wait in that cabana till I have time to warn my parents and calm them down."
Turn to page 109.
"I think you've made the right decision," Mr. Vandergraft says. "You're too fine a person to spend the rest of your life as a monster. I'm going to hire one of the best detectives in the country to make sure we find Dr. Nair."
"I can't thank you enough, sir," you reply.
During the following days you wait anxiously for news from Zena Hearne, the detective hired by Mr. Vandergraft. One morning, while you're playing soccer with the German shepherds, you hear Amanda calling you from the patio off the east wing.
"The detective says she's found Dr. Nair!" Amanda calls as you come bounding across the lawn. "Come into the drawing room. Zena Hearne wants to talk to you."
You follow Amanda through the guest quarters, then through the library and the great hall, then through the living room and into the drawing room. There, standing by the grand piano, is a rosy-cheeked woman with frizzy reddish-brown hair.
"Pleased to meet you," she says,holding out her hand, which you touch with your big, scruffy paw. Zena Hearne doesn't look like a detective, but she certainly seems agreeable.
You sit on the floor so you'll be the same height Zena Hearne is while she's standing. "Amanda tells me you think you've found Dr. Nair," you say.
Turn to page 38.
You wake up in a bed, your head aching. There's a lot of equipment around. Everything is made of shiny stainless steel. You wonder if you were hit by a car on your way home from school, taken to the hospital, and just had a nightmare about being kidnapped.
A thin, slightly stooped man with a tightly clipped beard enters your room. Something tells you he is not a doctor.
"Don't worry about that little bump on your head," he says in a high-pitched nasal tone. "You are a perfect subject for our experiment. My name is Dr. Hendrik Nair."
You sit up. feeling even more frightened than when the gunmen pulled you into the car. "What kind of experiment? What are you talking about?"
The man steps closer. He fixes his eyes on yours. "Have you ever heard of genetic engineering—genetic transplants?"
You're too stunned to answer.
"Well, you're going to learn a lot more, since I'm the greatest expert in the field. You'll be my most important patient."
"Oh, no—you're not going to touch me!" You're out of the bed, looking for a way out— maybe through the window.
Turn to page 4.
"Welcome," he says, as you let him place his small white hand in the grip of your enormous paw. He is a short, lean man with fuzzy reddish-brown hair.
After polite inquiries about the Vandergrafts and how you've gotten along living with them for the past month, Dr. Firenze pulls up a straight-back metal hospital chair, flips it around, and sits on it backward, resting his arms on the back.
"Now, let's get down to business," he says. "As Mr. Vandergraft told you, there's a chance I may be able to help change your body back into its original self through genetic-transplant treatment. I think I know what Dr. Nair's method was, and we should be able to reverse it. But I have to warn you that my work is still in the experimental stage, and I can't guarantee success."
"That's all right, doctor," you say. "I'm willing to try anything."
"You must understand," he says, "that if I fail, you will not only never return to the normal youngster you were before, you may become even more horrible—more monstrous—than you are now. So I must ask you: Are you sure you want to go through with this experiment?"
If you say yes to Dr. Firenze's experiment, turn to page 2.
If you say no to Dr Firenze's experiment, turn to page 73.
A tall, lanky man with a few days' growth of beard stands at the entrance. He's wearing a red hunting cap, a plaid flannel shirt, blue jeans, and heavy boots. A rifle is slung across his back. He does a double take on seeing you, but he doesn't scream or run. He just looks a little to one side of you and doesn't move at all.
You're so surprised by him and by the way he just stands there, that you're kind of frozen, yourself. Then, while you're trying to think of what to say, you notice he's very, very slowly moving a hand toward the strap that's holding his rifle. He's treating you just the way he would a bear!
Once he unsnaps the strap he'll be able to raise that rifle and fire it in about half a second.
If you lunge to keep him from raising his rifle, turn to page 77.
If you talk to him, turn to page 41.
Not that it matters much. By the time the movie is released, the cops have caught up with Job Watkins—and with you too. You're brought in and soon find yourself in the interrogation room at the Los Angeles office of the FBI.
"What does the FBI have to do with this?" you demand of the sandy-haired agent seated across the desk. He's wearing sunglasses, even though you're indoors. It makes you wonder if he's going to shine a bright light in your eyes.
"We're involved because you're a national menace. You frighten people."
"But I haven't committed any crime!"
The agent takes off his shades, blows on them, and then rubs them with a tissue he pulls out of his pocket. He puts the glasses back on before looking at you again.
"You don't have to have committed a crime," he says.
"This is going nowhere," you say. "I'll stand on my constitutional rights!"
Turn to page 113.
You sit thinking for a moment. It's so awful being a monster, you're willing to try almost anything. But the thought of becoming an even more horrible monster—maybe one that can only crawl, or can't talk, or smells awful, or goodness knows what—is too much to contemplate. "I don't think I want to take the risk, doctor," you say.
Dr. Firenze frowns but nods his head. "I understand completely," he says. "No one can tell you what is the right decision in such a case."
"What's next for me then, doctor?" you ask, aware that the Vandergrafts can't be expected to keep you as a guest any longer.
"I've discussed this with everyone, and we all think the best thing for a while would be for you to live on a farm or a lumber camp, where you could get a lot of exercise working, earn your keep, and be in a small, friendly community that's isolated, so you won't be bothered by outsiders."
You feel depressed on hearing this, but you seem to have no other choice. A few days later, a van comes to pick you up and take you to a lumber camp in British Columbia, Canada. Tears run down your monstrous cheeks as you bid farewell to Amanda and her family and set out on your journey.
Turn to page 37.
The circus season opens in three weeks, so you have just a short while to get to know the people and animals and learn your job. The ringmaster helps you train for an act where you scare the clowns, then become their friend, and then become a clown yourself. You also work with the animal trainers. When you walk past the elephants, one by one they rear up and trumpet wildly.
The tigers are another act. When you go into a cage with a tiger, he starts stalking you. But you roar so fiercely, he backs off. Later you learn to ride on his back. The tiger is agreeable, but you're so heavy that he soon tires and sits down. For the fun of it, you get under him and give him a ride!
Tazewell is nearby, jumping up and down. "This is the greatest act of all time!" he shouts.
Watkins was right: Circus business soars once word is out that you're the main attraction. They have to turn people away at the gate. Your act is televised and shown on national TV. By the end of the season you're famous, not as a dreaded, feared monster, but as a circus superstar!
Of course your ten percent of gross receipts adds up to a lot of money: You're rich! Watkins finally admits to you that he had embezzled mon
ey from a bank. At last he's able to pay it back, and the charges against him are dropped. You and he agree—it's nice to be rich, but what's really nice is to be free.
The End
Dr. Nair has been turned back into an ordinary person. After spending several years in jail, he begins a new career—as a shoe salesman.
And you are back home again. Your parents are very glad to see you. Of course they'd heard about the monster, but they never really believed such a thing could have happened to you.
Your mom says she missed you so much, she'd have wanted you to come home even if you were still a monster. Your dad says it may have been just as well that you waited until you could be changed back. "It would have broken our hearts to see you that way," he says.
But everyone agrees that it's all worked out in the end, and that's what counts. Tomorrow you'll be starting school again. You've got some catching up to do, but one thing's certain: You've learned all you need to know about monsters.
The End
You lunge toward the hunter before he can raise his rifle and shoot. With your tremendous strength you would only need to get one paw on him to bring him down. but he steps nimbly back through the entrance. As you follow, he backs away, edging close to the front of the cabin, and raises his rifle.
Crack!
"ARRRAGH!" You roar—not a human sound. but the anguished cry of a dying monster.
The End
Even though your family is prepared for the shock, everyone is startled to see your grotesque figure blocking the doorway. Your mom reels back as if she's going to faint. Your dad props her up, but he looks awfully pale himself. The dog crawls under a table and hides. Your brother just stares open-mouthed at you, while your sister reaches for the camera.
"Hi, everybody," you say cheerfully.
Your mom finally gets hold of herself. She starts hesitantly toward you, her arms outstretched as if she's determined to hug you—though she won't be able to get her arms around you.
You're afraid to move closer, for fear of scaring her to death, but finally you step forward very slowly.
"It's hard to believe," your dad says, "but I do believe it's you."
"You must be hungry," your mom says, motioning you toward the kitchen. "Come and sit down."
You hate to eat all the food in the house, but you're pretty hungry, so you polish off a loaf of bread, a box of cereal, two quarts of milk, a large jar of peanut butter, a pack of hot dogs, a quart of orange juice, and four bananas.
Turn to page 3.
You're so depressed, you just sit on the bed and stare at the wall, thinking about the terrible mess you have fallen into.
Through the days that follow, your body changes in ways almost too horrible to describe. Your captors bring you all the food you need, which is a lot, because you're always hungry. The whole time you're too scared to even look at yourself in the bathroom mirror.
Pain. That's the worst part of it. You can hear your bones crackling as they grow. Your muscles are growing too. They ache as they stretch to keep up with your bones—especially your arm bones, which are lengthening and thickening the most. Your skin is expanding, trying to cover your widening body surface. Sometimes it's stretched so thin, you're afraid it will split, but it always seems to cover. If you were just growing up fast, into an adult, that wouldn't be so bad. It's the way you're growing that frightens you—you're becoming much more massive than any human—much broader and thicker—and stronger! That's why they've boarded up your door with three-inch oak planking. It's also why they stopped feeding you through the door after the first few days and started throwing food in through a hole in the ceiling.
Turn to page 86.
"Oh," you say, thinking for a moment, "I would react nicely—very kindly—and I would treat the monster as a regular person."
"Well then, you see?" Dr. Rasmussen looks at you triumphantly.
"No, I don't," you reply. "The reason I'd act that way is that I know what it's like to be a monster. The other kids don't."
"Ah," Dr. Rasmussen says, undaunted. "I'm glad to see you are so intelligent."
"Hmmm."
"Well then," the doctor says softly, "since you are intelligent, all you have to do is ignore those who would taunt you." He leans forward and looks at you intently. "Slowly the others will come to understand. They will become wiser because of the example you set."
"I hope so," you murmur.
You're impressed by what the doctor has said but not completely convinced.
"Do I really have to go to school?" you ask.
The doctor shrugs. "No, but you can't just sit at home watching cartoons all day. I know of a cattle ranch where you might want to work," he says. He glances at his watch. "Oh my, our time is up. Think it over and let me know what you decide."
You both get up. He reaches out and grabs your paw. "I think you'd like this ranch," he says. "Whatever your decision is, I wish you good luck."
You thank Dr. Rasmussen and walk down the street, ignoring the stares of startled passersby. You have a decision to make.
If you decide to stay home and go back to school, turn to page 18.
If you decide to leave home and go work on a cattle ranch, turn to page 88.
"Watkins is my name," he says. "Jeb Watkins. Now, I've read something about you in the papers. Even before I met you 1 felt some sympathy for you. You see, I've been chased by the law myself for the last two years—over fifteen states and three countries."
"What are you in trouble for?" you ask.
Watkins looks at you for a moment without answering. You guess he didn't like your question.
"I don't care what you got in trouble for—you seem like a decent man to me," you say.
Watkins stirs the soup on the stove while he looks over his shoulder at you. "Thanks, I appreciate that."
He invites you to sit opposite him. The two of you sit down and polish off the soup. It's not enough to fill you, of course.
Turn to page 44.
When you look at the thick, coarse hair on your body you feel like crying. But that's nothing compared to the feeling of two long, canine teeth— sharp as spikes—growing out of your jaw, and the massive brows, overlapping your face like a ledge on a cliff.
Your captors don't talk to you—they don't even show their faces—though you've pleaded with them by shouting when they throw down food, or yelling out the window. You've even roared like a caged lion.
You're as strong as a lion, too. You can throw your bed around the room with one hand and shake the walls so hard that plaster falls from the ceiling. But the walls hold, and so does the door.
Turn to page 9.
You lumber out from behind the bushes, your fangs exposed full length as you try to smile. You may look like a fierce monster, but you feel more like a frightened rabbit. Sure, you could bash a police car flat with one slap of your paw, or grab a cop by the arm and hurl him across the courtyard, and finish off another with one chomp of your super-powerful jaws. But you couldn't stand up against a hail of bullets.
That's what the cop behind the car blocking the courtyard must think, because he sends a bullet whistling past one of your sharply pointed ears.
You freeze. Any other reaction would mean instant death, because at least half a dozen cops are now crouching, with their weapons leveled at you.
"Hold your fire!" the chief orders. The red-faced man with a fancy bronze insignia on his lapels steps forward. "Just what are you, some kind of alien?"
Turn to page 26.
Once you decide you definitely don't want to go to school, arrangements are quickly made to send you away to the ranch Dr. Rasmussen recommended. The plan is for you to earn your keep as a hired hand. The head of the ranch likes the idea of having someone big and strong enough to wrestle steers, herd cattle, and carry heavy loads.
The ranch is in Wyoming, and you're to fly there in a small chartered plane. The passenger seats have been ripped out to make room for you. Someone has taped up a sign
that reads: Monster Section. Very funny, you think.
There aren't any flight attendants on board, but food and water have been set out for the six-hour trip. You'd expected the pilots to be a little friendly and keep the door to the cockpit open, but it's locked.
About two hours into the flight you notice something very strange. All you can see below is the ocean—or maybe it's the Gulf of Mexico. It sure isn't Lake Michigan—the water is just too blue, and you can't see land anywhere. It's obvious you're not on the way to any ranch. You're being abducted! But where to? And why?
You bang on the door to the cockpit. "What's going on?" you demand. "Where are you taking me?"
Suddenly the door flies open, banging you in your snout. A submachine gun is pointed in your face.
"Back up! And keep your paws up!"
Turn to page 60.
"Why get Dr. Firenze?" Amanda inquires. "Why not get Dr. Nair?"
"Who would that be, dear?" her mother asks.
"He's the one that caused all this," Amanda says. "If we could catch him, we could make him undo his evil work."
Mr. Vandergraft bites his lower lip and shakes his head ever so slightly. "Maybe . . . maybe . . . ."
"But how could we trust Dr. Nair to do what we want?" Mrs. Vandergraft asks.
Amanda looks fiercely around the table. "We'll make him!"
Mr. Vandergraft looks at you. "Well?"
If you agree to enter Federal Hospital, turn to page 62.
If you ask the Vandergrafts to hire detectives to find and capture Dr. Nair, turn to page 67.