“What?” she asked. “You don’t think I’m beautiful?”
Elliot remembered the rhyme his first-grade class had said every day at the end of school: “I am beautiful because I’m me. I’ll be the best that I can be.”
He said, “I believe you are the best you can be.”
It was the wrong thing to say.
Dear Boy Readers: When any girl asks you if she’s beautiful, it’s always a good idea to insist quickly that yes, she is, no matter what she looks like. Even if she has worms in her hair and only one tooth (that for some reason is polka-dotted), you should still find something nice to say about her. If you tell her that she is not pretty, then I hope your family has a bomb shelter in your backyard where you can live for several years, because that will be the only safe place you can hide from her and all of her friends.
Agatha pointed a finger at Elliot. “I happen to be the most beautiful woman in all of everywhere. Since you can’t see that, I’ve decided to curse you.”
Elliot took a step back. “That’s not very nice. Did you know I got a zero on my spelling test just to come help you?”
“Quiet,” she hissed. “It’s hard to curse you when you’re talking. Here is the curse: I am a hag. My beauty is plain. Because you can’t see it. You’ll soon feel a brain.”
Elliot blinked. “Eww. What brain?”
“I think she meant you’ll soon feel pain, Your Highness,” Mr. Willimaker said. “One moment, Agatha.” Mr. Willimaker shut the door to the toilet stall and then pulled Elliot several steps away.
“What’s a hag?” Elliot asked. “Why is she here?”
Mr. Willimaker shook his head. “Actually, she’s a has-been hag. As you can tell from her curse, she’s sort of lost her touch.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“She came to Burrowsville last night looking for a place to stay until she figures out how to get her cursing powers back. She keeps cursing all the Brownies, and it’s starting to upset them.”
Elliot couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d agreed to get a zero on a spelling test because of a has-been hag who’d lost her powers of cursing? “Can’t you just send her away?” he asked.
Mr. Willimaker bit his lip. “I had this idea, Your Highness. It’s probably a terrible one, because my ideas usually aren’t very good, but I thought maybe she could help us win the Goblin war.”
“How?” Elliot demanded.
“What if she does get her cursing powers back?” Mr. Willimaker asked.
Elliot grinned. “And then she curses the Goblins?”
Mr. Willimaker nodded. “Exactly. But we have to find a place for her to stay in the meantime.”
Elliot opened the bathroom stall again and held out a hand for her to shake. “We started out badly, Agatha. My name is Elliot.”
She took his hand and shook it and then quickly pulled his hand to her mouth and bit his finger.
“Ow!” Elliot pulled his hand away. “What was that for?”
“I cursed you to feel pain,” Agatha said. “Look, it already happened.”
Elliot almost smiled. “Only because you bit me. If you make it happen, then it’s not a real curse.”
“It was a real pain, though.” Then tears formed in Agatha’s eyes. “Oh, you’re right. What kind of a hag am I if I can’t even curse a human child?”
“I’m sure you’re a very good hag. Maybe you’re just tired.” Elliot rubbed his bit finger but stopped as he heard a voice in the hallway. Someone was coming into the bathroom. He shoved Mr. Willimaker into Agatha’s stall and hissed, “Keep her quiet!”
He slammed the stall door closed.
Tubs! Of course, it had to be Tubs who came in.
Tubs’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing in here, Penster? I told you this was my bathroom.”
Elliot shrugged. “I checked for your name on the bathroom door. It said ‘boys’ bathroom.’ Since your name isn’t ‘boys,’ I thought it’d be okay.”
Tubs ran that idea through his mind. About halfway through it got lost in empty space, so Tubs let it drop.
“Move,” Tubs said. “I want to use that stall.”
Elliot kept his back firmly against the stall door. “It’s for people who need it. Use a different one.”
“I don’t want a different one. I like a stall with a lot of space.”
Elliot’s legs shook, but he held his ground. Behind him, he thought he heard Agatha sniffle.
“What was that?” Tubs asked. “Are you hiding someone in there?”
Elliot smiled. “Like who? A beautiful young woman disguised as a hag who’s just waiting to curse you?”
Tubs paused. “Uh, maybe. Now move!”
“You can’t have this stall, Tubs.”
Tubs darted to Elliot and grabbed his arms, lifting Elliot off the ground. “Ever been flushed down a toilet, Penster?”
Elliot never had. And it didn’t sound fun. He kicked and squirmed, but Tubs kept a tight hold on him as he carried Elliot to the other stall.
“What the—” Tubs said.
Elliot looked down. Tubs’s pants had fallen down around his ankles. Tubs set Elliot down and pulled his pants up again. They fell again, almost as if someone yanked them down. His underwear had little red hearts on it. Elliot had to bite his tongue hard to keep from giggling. Tubs pulled his pants up, this time keeping his hands on them to hold them in place.
“Tell you what,” Tubs said. “If you don’t tell anyone about my pants, I won’t tell them you’re hiding someone in here.”
“Deal.” Elliot nearly laughed as Tubs ran out of the bathroom. He opened the stall and smiled down at Mr. Willimaker. “Thanks for that.”
Mr. Willimaker bowed his head. “My pleasure. Now, what shall we do with Agatha?”
Elliot scratched his chin. “Why don’t you come home with me for a few days, Agatha? I’m sure my parents will let you stay, and you can keep my Uncle Rufus company.”
Agatha stood. “Okay, but I still may have to curse you again.”
That didn’t matter to Elliot. The way he figured, ever since he met the Brownies, he’d already been cursed.
Dear Reader: May I suggest that before you become too interested in whether Elliot survives the next Goblin attack, that you close this book now. Remember that chapter 15 is coming up next, and that is the very chapter in which several readers lost valuable body parts. It probably won’t happen to you, but it might, and many readers who went on to read chapter 15 later regretted it.
Take the example of Libby Frackenflower, a very smart and talented fifth grader who was the captain of her baseball team. She didn’t heed this warning. Having decided that if she could outlast the meanest teacher in fourth grade, Mrs. Pinchey, then she could certainly survive a chapter of this book.
Sadly, both of Libby’s arms fell off about three paragraphs before the end of chapter 15. Now, do not worry for Libby Frackenflower. She has become very good at swinging a baseball bat with her teeth and catching the ball with her belly button, but we feel certain that if she could go back and un-read chapter 15, she would.
You may be laughing at Libby, which isn’t polite. But if you can’t help it, then please don’t laugh while drinking hot cocoa, or else you might giggle the marshmallows right out of your nose.
Dear Reader, please stop now. Because the start of chapter 15 is going to be so good that you’ll find you’ve reached the end before you know it. And for some of you, it will be too late.
The good news was that Elliot’s family had warmly welcomed Agatha the hag into their home. (If you want to call her Hagatha, that’s fine. Elliot already thought of it too, even though he didn’t dare say it. Don’t call her Nagatha or Ragatha, though—no matter how grumpy she is or what her clothes look like—because that’s just rude. You can also call her Betsy, but don’t expect her to answer, because that’s not her name.)
Elliot introduced her as honestly as he could. He told his family that she was a lost wo
man he met in town who just needed somewhere to stay for a few days.
“She has nothing,” Elliot told his parents. “I just feel like we need to help her.”
Elliot’s father put his arm around Elliot’s shoulder. “I agree. We have almost nothing, and that’s way better than plain old nothing. So, yes, we have to help her.”
“We always have room for one more,” Elliot’s mother said. “She can stay in Wendy’s room.”
Wendy’s eyes had widened in fear, and a little vein popped out in her forehead, but she wisely said nothing. Elliot hoped her silence would spare her from being cursed. It didn’t.
Cursing was the bad news. Reed had dropped his peanut-butter-and-pickle-relish sandwich when she first entered the kitchen, mumbling something about the walking dead. Agatha pointed a spindly finger at Reed and said, “I am a hag. These looks are for show. I curse you with pain when you stuff a crow.”
“What was that?” Reed asked. “You want me to stuff a crow?”
“I think she means ‘stub a toe,’” Elliot said. “Right, Agatha?”
Reed nodded, a bit confused. “Oh, okay. I didn’t know where I was going to find a crow.” As he walked past Agatha, she suddenly raised a leg up and then stomped on Reed’s foot.
“Ow!” Reed yelped. “What was that for?”
“The curse said you’d stub a toe,” Agatha said. “Look, you have.”
“You just mashed my toe,” Reed said. “That’s different! And it hurt!”
“Then you’d better not let yourself get cursed again.”
Agatha cursed Wendy as well, telling her she’d soon be quacked on a farm. Then she whacked Wendy on the arm. Agatha cursed the twins that they’d strut past a bear, but they were smart enough to run away before she could cut their hair. Elliot was pretty sure he heard Agatha also whisper a curse against his parents, although he wasn’t sure what it was. When his father limped past Elliot that afternoon, he said, “Next time, I get to choose our house guest.”
But Agatha poured most of her energy into keeping Elliot fully stocked with fresh curses. By dinnertime, Elliot had already been cursed four times. He stopped paying attention to most of her rhymes. She didn’t have any actual cursing power and was only finding a reason to cause everyone a little pain. He’d learned to avoid most of Tubs’s hits. He could avoid hers too.
The fifth curse came shortly after dinner when Elliot took his plate to the sink but forgot to take hers. She pointed at him and said, “I am a hag and this curse is your own. The Goblin leader you must face alone.”
Hoping she hadn’t just exposed his secret, Elliot quickly looked around, but he and Agatha were alone in the room. Then he began to worry. For the first time since he met Agatha, she had used the right word in her cursing rhymes. And facing the Goblin leader alone sounded pretty bad to him.
Fudd knew the Goblins better than anyone. He had spent a lot of time warning Elliot about what terrible things they might try next. Whoever was mean enough to lead the Goblins was someone Elliot preferred to avoid.
But he didn’t think he could avoid it now. Agatha had cursed him, and probably with a real curse too.
Or could she be wrong? Maybe another word was supposed to go in there. Maybe she meant, I am a hag and this curse is your own. The Goblin leader you must call on the phone. Or, The Goblin leader, you must give him a loan? Throw him a bone?
Elliot couldn’t even smile. Those ideas sounded good, but he was pretty sure he was doomed.
Uncle Rufus was the only family member who hadn’t been cursed so far. He’d been gone when Elliot brought the hag home from school. He had also missed dinner.
But when Rufus walked into the house that night, Agatha was the first thing he saw. He put his hands to his heart, his mouth dropped open, and he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Elliot,” he whispered, staring at Agatha as if she were more delicious than a double-decker hot fudge sundae. “Where did you find this angel?”
“Huh?” Elliot said.
Agatha glared at Elliot, probably trying to think of another curse.
“Go on, kind sir,” Agatha said with a giggle. In anyone else’s voice, her words would have sounded sweet. Coming from Agatha’s mouth, the words sounded as if they came from a toad choking on a mushroom.
“I have lived many years all over this world,” Uncle Rufus said. “I’ve seen majestic waterfalls tumbling into glistening lakes. I’ve seen sunsets that have made me weep. I’ve seen endless wildflower meadows and laid down in them to count the clouds. But you, my lady, are the most beautiful thing I have ever set eyes upon.”
Elliot shook his head. Either Uncle Rufus had gone blind or else he was smarter than the rest of his family at not getting himself cursed.
Uncle Rufus nudged Elliot on the shoulder. “Be a good little girl and get me some of those earrings I gave you last year.”
“I’m a boy, Uncle Rufus,” Elliot muttered.
“And a fine boy you are. Now go get me some of your earrings. I can’t introduce myself to this beautiful woman without a gift to offer her.”
Elliot ran to get the earrings, but a gift wasn’t necessary. When he got back downstairs, Rufus and Agatha were already sitting on the couch together, laughing as if they were old friends.
He set the earrings on the table and walked outside to sit on his front porch. Maybe Agatha really was a beautiful young woman. Maybe that was part of what it meant to be a hag. If so, why could Uncle Rufus see who she really was, but none of the rest of his family could?
“Psst, look over here,” a voice whispered.
(You, the reader, have learned exactly what it means when something whispers, “Psst, look over here.” However, Elliot has not read this book, so he doesn’t know exactly how Queen Bipsy died.)
Elliot peered into the shadows of his yard, not sure where the here was where he was supposed to look.
“Psst, this way,” the voice whispered again.
Elliot walked off his porch. To his right was a little clump of bushes. Very slowly, something crawled from them. Elliot’s memory flashed to when he was eight years old, facing what he thought were kids dressed in Halloween costumes, but who were actually Goblins. Whatever had happened then was happening again.
Only there were five of them this time.
Five Goblins with boiling, bubbling skin. With each bubble, they grew larger and blacker. Their skin was wet, and in the moonlight Elliot saw bulges form along their back and down their arms and legs.
Run! Elliot’s brain screamed it to him, but not loudly enough to get his legs to listen. He could do nothing but stare at the emerging beasts.
His heart beat faster, pounding against the wall of his chest. Pounding in rhythm with the bubbling skin.
The Goblins’ faces were changing too. Their jagged teeth, already protruding from their wide mouths, grew into a mouthful of fangs. The ends of their fingers extended into claws long enough to pry a door off its hinges, and their coloring darkened to a sooty dark green. The Goblins banged their teeth together, and the earth shook beneath Elliot’s feet. The yard swirled around him. Everything was in a dizzy motion except for the monsters before him. He could see them all too well.
Elliot’s breath locked in his throat, and he gasped for air. His lungs must have shut down, because they didn’t want to help him breathe anymore. They only wanted to get away from this. His heart knocked unevenly now, like it couldn’t keep up with the rhythm from the Goblins’ gnashing teeth.
Elliot’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell to the ground. Someone ran into the yard with a broom. Was it Agatha? She moved fast for a woman her age. She swung the broom at the monsters, and they clawed back at her. She started yelling at them, although he couldn’t hear the words…just the pounding rhythm.
It was the rhythm that mattered.
The rhymes. Agatha’s curses were in rhyme.
Suddenly, the air filled with light and all went silent. Elliot closed
his eyes, and just as quickly, his world went black.
The first thing Elliot heard was giggling. He didn’t expect to hear giggling, because surely he had been scared to death by the Goblins, and whoever thought that being scared to death was funny was just plain rude.
Tubs was rude, and Tubs also might have thought Elliot’s death was funny, but Tubs never giggled. So who was it?
Elliot opened one eye, just a peek to see who might be giggling, but he couldn’t see anyone. Then he thought maybe he wasn’t dead after all. Because if there’s one thing dead people can’t do, it’s open their eyes to peek at the living world.
Elliot did an official test to see if he was alive. He wiggled his toes.
Uncle Rufus once told him a story about a dead person who wiggled their toes. It had something to do with the body’s nerves still working for a few hours after death. Elliot gasped. Maybe he was one of those stories! Now all he had to do was figure out how to become a zombie. How cool was that?
Then his brain woke up and told him to stop dreaming. If he was going to become a zombie, then he’d be out on the streets moaning already. Not lying in a bed listening to someone giggle. He was definitely alive, and it was time to wake up.
Uncle Rufus and Agatha stared down at him. Agatha’s bulging left eye looked as if it were ready to fall out at any second. Elliot shifted in his bed so it wouldn’t land on him, just in case.
“Quiet now,” Agatha said. “Don’t get up too fast.”
“You saved me from those—” Elliot stopped and looked at Uncle Rufus. He knew he couldn’t say anything about the Brownies. That probably meant he couldn’t talk about the Goblins either.
“He knows,” Agatha said.
Elliot sat up on his elbows. “He knows what?”
“I know about Agatha,” Uncle Rufus said, smiling. “It wasn’t hard to figure out once I realized everyone saw something different than I did.”
“Why can you see her and nobody else can?” Elliot asked.
“You’ll see her too, in time,” Uncle Rufus said.
“Oh.” Elliot stole a hopeful glance at Agatha, just in case. It didn’t work. She was still the most hideous creature he’d ever seen. He looked back to Uncle Rufus. “Where’s my family?”
Elliot and the Goblin War Page 7