by Ahmet Zappa
Max pointed at the fireplace. “Minerva, will you please just shut up and turn your head and look?”
In an instant my fear and anger were replaced with total shock. Right where the fireplace used to be was a massive pair of ivory-colored stone doors with the words “ALL MONSTERS BEWARE, FOR ONLY A MCFEARLESS MAY ENTER HERE” carved just above their two oversized solid-gold handles.
“What did you do, Max?” I asked, baffled.
“Come on, Mini! Let's see what's inside,” he said, without answering my question.
“Where did the fireplace go? Max, how did this happen?”
“You're not going to believe this, Mini,” Max began. “I went to place some more wood on the fire like you asked me to do. But then this weird red moth started flying around my face, so I grabbed the fire poker and pretended like it was a pirate sword and swung at the blasted moth a few times, but I missed and accidentally slammed the tip of the poker into a brick at the top of the fireplace. And I noticed that the brick moved, so I pushed on it a little more and—proof—the fire went out and those big doors appeared!” Max looked very satisfied.
I was stunned by what I'd just heard, and at the same time jealous that it wasn't my discovery. If this isn't a perfect example of finding trouble, then I don't know what is. I knew that our father probably wasn't going to be happy about this, but I just had to see what was inside.
Max and I placed our hands upon the golden handles of the mammoth doors. They felt cool and, to my surprise, gave way easily. We pushed the doors open and gained entry to a room that would forever change the destiny of our lives. Together we stepped into our family's mysterious past—and into our own dangerous future.
Max and I stumbled upon yet another stone door. This one, however, was blood-red and much smaller than the last pair, and it had a very different ominous message carved just above its rusted doorknob.
“MCFEARLESSLY ENTER ONLY THOSE WHO ARE BRAVE, FOR THE KNOWLEDGE YOU FIND HERE YOU MUST MCFEARLESSLY TAKE TO YOUR GRAVE.” Max read the words aloud and then frantically rifled through his pant pockets.
“Are you all right, Max? We don't have to go any further. We can turn around right now if you want to,” I whispered.
“No, I'm fine, Minerva,” Max replied in a transparent tough-guy-sounding voice. “Why would I want to do that?”
Obviously, I've known Max for a long time, and I've noticed two things about my little brother that only a big sister with a superb, scientific, sleuthlike mind, such as me, could detect.
Whenever he feels comfortable and happy, eventually his fingers go fishing for fresh booger trout up his nose.
Whenever he is uncomfortable and scared, eventually his fingers go fishing for a gum ball in hopes that he'll be able to chew all his fears away.
In the blink of an eye, Max plopped a pink gum ball into his mouth and began to chew it like a maniac. After only a few seconds, a visible sense of calm came over him. He moved up to the door and, with a gross, sloppy-slushy-sounding wet mouth, said, “I'm ready—if you are, Minerva.”
“Okay, on the count of three,” I responded, and put my hand right next to his on the doorknob. Then we looked at each other and readied ourselves for a nice twist of the knob.
“One, two, three!”
The door flew open and we went flying. Stupidly, Max and I had pushed way too hard, and we collided with a table full of terrifying things. Luckily, we survived the incident with only minor scrapes and scratches. But the table we connected with toppled over, its contents crashing to the floor with a boom. We picked ourselves up from the mess we'd made and surveyed our surroundings for the first time.
Max and I couldn't believe our eyes. It was like being in a museum full of things that weren't supposed to exist. Lanternlike canisters filled with a glowing green type of phosphorus lined the walls, and a startling stained-glass window of a multicolored fire-breathing dragon helped to illuminate our unusual surroundings, bathing everything before us in an unnatural light. There were sarcophagi filled with skeletons and display cases containing other rotting remains. Some of the skeletons had wings or spiky tails. Others had razor-sharp antlers or large pointed horns. There were monster skulls with only one eye socket, and some with three or even more. Suspended from the ceiling was a jaw so enormous that Max and I gasped when we saw its petrifying, petrified pointed teeth. There was also an exceptionally long examining table covered with an odd array of interesting items, including a microscope with slides of blood I assumed came from different breeds of carnivorous creatures. There were dirty-looking bottles full of perplexing plant life and containers of coagulated liquids with living organisms struggling to swim inside them. The room made me feel like I had to go wash my hands instantly, for fear of possible germ contamination.
We had discovered a room specifically designed for and devoted to the scientific study of malevolent monsters. When Max noticed the weirdly shaped weapons of war and the badly battered battle armor stacked against the farthest wall of the study, he couldn't contain himself. It was a dream come true for him: he obviously thought he'd finally be able to get his grubby little hands on his very own pirate sword. But it didn't quite work out that way. Max grabbed one of the oddly shaped swords from the wall, but it slipped out of his hands and fell directly onto his right foot. It turns out that puny little boys who dream of owning their very own pirate sword simply aren't strong enough yet to even lift one. Luckily for him, it fell blade-side up so that only the hilt of the sword bashed his toes, making him scream at the top of his lungs. It was fantastic. He walked with a limp for at least three days after that.
Max and I began to scour the majority of the room's unsanitary but amazing monster paraphernalia. My head swam with unnerving questions. Why on earth is there a place like this in our house? Who uses it? And what is it for? While my unanswered questions swirled around in my McFearless mind, my eyes stumbled across something in the shadows toward the back of the room. Resting on a paradoxically plain pedestal was the most unique book I'd ever seen. I couldn't take my eyes off it. The book was rather large and covered in some sort of leathery animal hide that I'd never seen before. It was as if its embossed cover of deep browns and golden iridescent lettering was just waiting for me to open it, calling me to it. The closer I got, the greater was my need to read from its pages. I reached out my hand to pick it up. I was so close.
“Minerva, no! Don't touch that book!” screamed my father. But it was too late. The book had invitingly opened itself up to me and snapped closed around my outstretched hand, biting me with its poisonous paper teeth. The last thing I saw before I passed out was the book's mysterious title … Monstranomicon.
covered my study and fooled around with things I wish you wouldn't have. Are you sure you're okay, Mini?”
“Why did that book hurt me?” I asked, and sipped some more. It was really yummy.
“You tried to pick up the Monstranomicon and she bit you,” answered my father uneasily.
“What are you talking about? Since when do books bite people?”
“Actually, this book not only bites, she also talks.”
“How can that be? Why do you even have a book like that, and why didn't you ever tell me that monsters existed? What's going on here, Dad?” I wanted answers.
“What's the best way to put this?” my father said, fumbling for his words. “I'm not what you would call a normal dad with a normal occupation…. I really hoped that you'd be older and that your mother would be here when I told you this—”
“Dad, just tell me already,” I interrupted, frustrated.
“Okay, then. Minerva, I'm what you might call a monsterminator,” he said, finally spitting the words out. It seemed like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders then, and the rest of what he had to say came out much more easily. “I help people with their monster-infestation problems. Just like my father did, and his father before him, and so on and so on. That book you tried picking up is the source of all our McFearless monsterminating monster knowledge, a
living, breathing encyclopedia on all of monsterkind, containing information on all their strengths, but more important, their weaknesses. Her poisonous bite either kills her victims or grants them the ability to read and understand her pages. You're lucky you're a McFearless, or you'd probably be dead. Oh, and before I forget, she wanted me to apologize to you, on her behalf. She feels terrible for biting you, and she'll try never to do it again.”
“Um, okay. Tell her apology accepted, I guess,” I said, still very confused.
“I will. Interestingly, though, she said that by the way you tasted, she thinks the two of you could easily become friends. Apparently, she's quite fond of you, Minerva, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. Remember, she's a monster—albeit a monster who's been turned from bad to good. She's still a monster. So you are not to spend any time with her, okay?”
“Okay,” I answered. He knew me so well. I couldn't wait to talk with her. “But, Dad, how does one get a book that's alive? And are there other books that won't try to kill you that contain the same kind of information?”
“No, actually, Minerva, that is the only book of its kind, and your great-great-great-grandfather Maximillius McFearless, rest his soul, died obtaining it. Legend has it, Maximillius sought to steal the book for the information it held inside, so that he could use its knowledge to protect the world from all monsterkind. Unfortunately, the book belonged to the king of evil—otherwise known as the dreaded Zarmaglorg. Maximillius, being McFearless, deci-ded to sneak into the evil king's private lair and, while the beast lay sleeping, discovered something else rather unexpectedly. Right next to the Monstranomicon was the Zarmaglorg's most powerfully prized possession—the Enots-lived Diamond, the source of the Zarmaglorg's evil powers! Quickly and quietly, Maximillius snatched the diamond before moving toward the Monstranomicon, not knowing that the book was actually a monster itself—and therein lay his downfall. As the story goes, Maximillius became the first human ever to lay hands upon the Monstranomicon, and therefore the first human to receive her dreadfully painful bite.
“Upon hearing Maximillius's awful screams of agony, the king of evil opened his eyes to find Maximillius with his two most prized possessions clutched tightly in his hands, writhing in pain. It's not exactly clear what transpired next, which for us in the McFearless family has caused many heated debates over the years. Some have speculated that with the combined power of the Monstranomicon and the Enotslived Diamond, Maximillius was able to defeat the Zarmaglorg, thus ending his reign of terror for good—but in doing so sacrificed his own life. Others believe that since he was the first victim of the Monstranomicon's sting, she poisoned Maximillius to death, and that when the Zarmaglorg ate his remains, he was poisoned as well. I'm not sure I believe any one of those stories, but I can tell you one thing for certain: neither Maximillius nor the dreaded Zarmaglorg has been heard from since.
“One night, shortly after Maximillius's disappearance, the Monstranomicon, wrapped in Maximillius's cloak, was left on our doorstep in broad daylight with a letter explaining how dangerous she is and that only a truly fearless McFearless may read from her pages. Minerva, very bad things would happen if that book were ever to fall back into the hands of monsters. So for hundreds of years, our family has been safeguarding all of the deadly information that's held within her and has served as mankind's last line of defense against all monsterdom's vicious attacks.”
“Okay, so let me get this straight,” I said, a little doubtfully. “You're a monsterminator? Monsters really exist and our family has been fighting monsters for hundreds of years?”
“Yes, Minerva, it's all true,” he answered.
My mind was spinning.
“So this is why you're always having to race off somewhere on a moment's notice? And why you sometimes disappear in the middle of the night without ever waking us to say goodbye?”
“Yes, Mini, and I'm sorry if you ever worried or wondered where I was,” my father said. “I hated leaving you and Max, but I always made sure I left you in Randolph's safe hands.” (Randolph Beesmilk has been my father's best—and I think only—friend for as long as I can remember. He has been looking after us more and more ever since my mother passed away.)
“I want to be a monsterminator,” I announced proudly.
“Minerva, this is not a game. Monsters love to eat children and destroy people's lives. It's an incredibly hazardous job that only a grown-up—and I repeat, a grown-up—can handle.”
“But, Dad, I'm a McFearless, and that's what McFearlesses do. We monsterminate,” I said desperately.
“Now, I love you, Minerva, and I would do anything to keep my children safe. So listen to me. I don't want you or Max ever to go inside my study or try to read from that book again. Do you understand? It's dangerous and both of you could get seriously hurt in there.”
The thought of not being allowed to go back in the monster-study room seemed like one of the worst things in the world to me. I couldn't let that happen. I needed a plan. I needed Max.
“This is not open for discussion, Minerva. You and Max are not allowed back in there. Do you understand me?” my father asked sternly.
“Yes, Dad,” I said unhappily, with my fingers secretly crossed.
“Good,” he said, and kissed my forehead. “Now that your hand is feeling better, let's go downstairs and have a piece of your mother's favorite grapefruit cake. Max is waiting.”
secretly steal another item from his definitely off-limits, super-secret monster study. And let me tell you, it worked flawlessly. We'd take things out and put them right back without him ever becoming the wiser.
Now, we love our father and hate disobeying him, but for two years, Max and I learned as much as we could behind his back. Every time our father would leave us to go on one of his monsterminating trips, Max and I would secretly rejoice. Sure, we'd miss him. And he'd always make certain that Randolph Beesmilk was there to keep a watchful eye on us. But good old Beezer didn't present too much of a challenge. Strangely, for a man who used to have loads of energy, Beezer seemed to fall asleep a lot those days. I wonder if it was because there were two McFearless children who had learned how to put odorless and tasteless things into his drinks that would knock him out? Now, I can neither deny nor confirm that, but I will admit that once Randolph was sleeping like a baby, Max and I would spend all day in our father's study, getting in some real quality monster-learning time. We learned many recipes from the Monstranomicon—and none of them were for chocolate chip cookies or custard pies. They were all recipes for monster maintenance and defending oneself against the creatures on her pages.
The Monstranomicon informed me that she preferred to be called MA. Monstranomicon and that I should refer to her as such. I read page after page from the Monstranomicon, and we became fast friends. She even started to teach me how to speak in her native language, Monstrosity. She said that if I wanted to become a real monsterminator, I'd probably have to learn to speak it, and that I'd be the first female human ever to do so. She told me that it had been forbidden for her to teach any of us McFearlesses in the first place. Monster law states that monsters must never betray their own kind by teaching food (humans) their monster ways. Ms. Monstranomicon's biggest fear is that, one day, one of her monster relatives is going to find out what she's done and burn her alive, even though she's been hidden safely inside our house for years and years. I never told Max about any of this, because they were private girl conversations, just between friends.
After spending lots of time with Ms. Monstranomicon, I came to the conclusion that she was an incredible book who could do amazing things. For instance, if by accident one of her pages were ripped out, she could grow it back, just like a lizard can regrow its tail. She also loves to have her spine tickled, and one of her favorite things, besides biting hands, is when someone reads from her out loud. Even though she's my friend, and I do like to make my friends happy, translating for my bratty brother as I read from her was exhausting.
“Is there
any way that you could allow Max to read from your pages without having to bite him first, Ms. Monstranomicon?”
“No, I think that I would not like to allow that. I want to bite him. He looks yummy. Honestly, I think he deserves a nice bite from me. You survived; chances are he will too,” she said, shuffling her paper teeth around in her mouth while she talked. I explained all this to Max.
“So that's why her pages look all blurry when I try reading over your shoulder. Well, both of you can just forget it. There is no way I'm letting her bite me, Minerva,” Max said nervously. “I remember how seriously swollen you got after she chomped down on you, and I'm not interested.”
“You're a big chicken, Max, you know that? And you'll never be a proper monsterminator unless you let her,” I said as I threateningly pushed Ms. Monstranomicon closer to his fingers. Max panicked and immediately put a green gum ball in his mouth.
“Minerva, k-k-keep that thing away from me,” he stuttered.
I gave in to the fact that I'd be stuck reciting everything.
So I read chapter after chapter of Ms. Monstranomicon to Max, and together we studied up on spells and charms and the ingredients that went into them. We learned the names of the various types of monsters and how to tell them apart—which ones had fur, skin or scales, and which fiend's bite was deadly or would turn you into a monster yourself. Then I'd quiz Max and he'd do the same to me. We quickly became true monster experts.
and I saw right through him. So we did as we were told, and he tucked us into our beds and kissed us good night. But the moment he left our rooms and headed for his study, Max and I met up to follow him. We both had the same questions: Why did our father react so strangely when he saw the Bewilder Box, and what monstrous thing could possibly be inside of it?