by R. L. Stine
I stared up at the monster’s face. He glared out at us from inside the ice. His black eyes glittered, his mouth set in a toothy snarl.
“This is the most amazing discovery in history!”
Dad exclaimed. “Do you realize how famous we are going to be?”
He stopped shooting for a second and peered up at the brown-furred monster.
“Why stop here?” he murmured. “Why go home with nothing but photos? Why not take the snowman himself back to California? Do you know what a sensation that will create?”
“But—how?” Nicole asked.
“He’s alive, you know, Dad,” I warned. “I mean, he can crack out of that ice. And when he does, it’s really scary. I don’t think you could control him.”
Dad knocked gently on the ice, testing it. “We won’t let him out of the ice,” he said. “At least not until we’ve got him under control.”
Dad walked all the way around the block of ice, rubbing his chin. “If we cut the ice a bit, it might fit into the supply trunk,” he said. “Then we could carry the snowman back to California in the block of ice, locked in the trunk. It’s airtight, so the ice won’t melt.”
He stepped up close to the ice and snapped a few more shots of the snowman’s snarling face. “Let’s go get the trunk, kids.”
“Dad—wait.” I didn’t like this idea. “You don’t understand. The snowman could rush us! He let us go once. But why take another chance?”
“Look at his teeth, Dad,” Nicole pleaded. “He’s so strong, he picked us both up at once!”
“It’s worth the risk,” Dad insisted. “Neither of you is hurt, right?”
Nicole and I nodded. “Yes, but—”
“Let’s go.” Dad had made his mind up. He wasn’t going to listen to our warnings.
I’d never seen him so excited. As we hurried from the cave, he called to the snowman, “Don’t go away—we’ll be right back!”
We rushed over the snow to the cabin. Dad pulled the supply trunk outside. It was about six feet long and three feet wide.
“The snowman will fit,” he said. “But with him inside the trunk, it will be very heavy.”
“We need the dogsled to pull it,” Nicole said.
“But Arthur took the sled,” I reminded them. “So I guess the deal is off. We’ll just have to go home without an Abominable Snowman. Too bad!”
“Maybe there’s another sled around somewhere,” Dad suggested. “This is an old musher’s cabin, after all.”
I remembered the old sled I’d seen in the dog shed. Nicole had seen it, too. She led Dad to it.
“Fantastic!” Dad cried. “Now let’s go get that snowman before he escapes.”
We hitched Lars, our only dog, to the old sled and towed the supply trunk to the cave.
Then we crept silently into the cave, pulling the trunk behind us. “Careful, Dad,” I warned. “He might have broken out of the ice by now.”
But the Abominable Snowman stood where we’d left him, frozen in his block of ice.
Dad began to cut the ice down to size with a hacksaw.
I paced nervously. “Hurry!” I whispered. “He could burst out any minute!”
“This isn’t easy,” Dad snapped. “I’m working as fast as I can.” He hacked away.
Each second felt like an hour to me. I watched the snowman carefully for any signs of movement.
“Dad, do you have to saw so loudly?” I complained. “The noise could wake him up!”
“Relax, Jordan,” Dad said. But his voice was tight and shrill, too.
Then I heard a crack.
“Look out!” I cried. “He’s breaking out!”
Dad straightened up. “I cracked the ice a bit, Jordan.”
I studied the monster. He hadn’t moved.
“Okay, kids,” Dad said. “We’re ready.” Dad had cut the ice into a six-foot-long rectangle. “Help me slide this into the trunk.”
I opened the lid of the trunk. Nicole and I helped Dad tip the ice over and gently drop it into the trunk. It just barely fit.
We slid the trunk along the ground to the opening of the cave. Dad tied a rope around it and climbed out of the hole. “I’ll tie the rope to the sled,” Dad called from above. “That way Lars can help me hoist it out.”
“Hey,” I whispered to Nicole, “let’s sneak some snowballs into the trunk—just for fun. We can throw them at Kyle and Kara when we get home. Snow from the cave of the Abominable Snowman—they’ll never top that!”
“No—please. Don’t open the trunk,” Nicole begged. “We just barely got the snowman inside.”
“We can squeeze a few snowballs in,” I insisted. I quickly made a bunch of snowballs, packing them tight. Then I cracked open the trunk and slipped them inside, next to the block of ice.
I checked the monster one last time for signs of life. The ice was solid. We were safe.
“They won’t melt in there,” I said sealing the lid of the trunk shut. We locked it with the bolt and tightened the rope around it. I felt pretty sure the snowman wouldn’t be able to break out of there; even if he did crack through the ice.
“Ready?” Dad shouted from up above. “One, two, three—heave!”
Dad and Lars tugged on the rope until the chest lifted off the ground. Nicole and I squatted beneath it to help push it up.
“Again!” Dad yelled. “Heave!”
We pushed as hard as we could. “It’s so heavy!” Nicole complained.
“Come on, kids!” Dad called. “Push!”
We gave the trunk a shove. Dad and Lars tugged it over the lip of the cave opening.
Dad collapsed in the snow. “Whew,” he muttered, wiping his brow. “Well, the hardest part is over.”
He helped Nicole and me scramble out.
We all rested a few minutes. Then we dragged the trunk onto the sled. Dad secured it with the rope. Lars pulled the sled back to the cabin.
Once inside, Dad hugged us both. “What a day! What a great day!”
He turned to me. “See, Jordan? Nothing terrible happened.”
“We’re lucky,” I said.
“I’m so sleepy,” Nicole complained, sinking onto her sleeping bag.
I glanced out the window. The sun sat high in the sky, as usual. But I knew it had to be very late.
Dad glanced at his watch. “It’s almost midnight. You two should get some sleep.” He frowned. “I’d hate to wake up here in the morning with no food, though. I’m going to radio for help. You guys can sleep when we get back to town.”
“Can we stay in a hotel?” I asked Dad. “In a bed?”
“If we can find one,” he promised. He opened his pack, searching for the radio.
He shuffled stuff around in his pack. Then he pulled things out, one by one. A compass. An extra camera. Cans of film. A pair of socks, balled up.
I didn’t like the look on his face. He turned the pack over and dumped everything on the floor. He sifted through it, again, getting frantic.
“Dad? What’s the matter?”
When he turned to me, he had a terrified expression on his face. “The radio,” he murmured. “It’s gone.”
23
“No!” Nicole and I both shrieked.
“I don’t believe it!” Dad cried, pounding his fist against his empty pack. “Arthur must have taken the radio so we wouldn’t report him.”
I stomped around the room, frightened and furious. Our dogs, our sled, our food—Arthur had taken them all.
And now the radio.
Did Arthur leave us here to freeze? To starve?
“Calm down, Jordan,” Dad said.
“But, Dad—” Nicole interrupted.
Dad shushed her. “Just a second, Nicole. I’ve got to think of a way out of this.” Dad searched the cabin. “Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic,” he instructed himself.
“But Dad—” Nicole said, tugging at his sleeve.
“Nicole!” I snapped. “We’re in huge trouble. We could die out here!”<
br />
“Dad!” she insisted. “Listen to me! You wrapped up the radio last night so it wouldn’t freeze. It’s in your sleeping bag!”
Dad’s mouth dropped open. “You’re right!” he cried. He hurried to his sleeping bag and reached inside. He dug into his sleeping bag—and pulled out the radio, wrapped in a wool scarf.
He switched on the radio and fiddled with the dials. “Iknek, Iknek. Come in, Iknek.”
Dad asked the Iknek airport to send us a helicopter. He tried to describe where we were.
Nicole and I smiled sleepily at each other.
“We’re going home!” she said happily. “Home to sunny, hot Pasadena.”
“I’m going to kiss a palm tree!” I declared. “I never want to see snow again.”
I had no idea that our snowy adventure was just beginning!
24
“Ahhhh,” I sighed. “Feel that sun? Nice and hot.”
“The radio said it’s a hundred degrees today,” Nicole reported.
“I love it!” I beamed. “Love it!”
I slapped more tanning lotion on my chest.
Our Alaska trip all seemed unreal, now that we were home in Pasadena. The cold, the snow, the wind blowing over the rolling white tundra. The snarling, brown-furred Abominable Snowman. It all seemed like a dream.
But I knew it was no dream.
Dad had hidden the trunk with the Abominable Snowman inside the darkroom in the backyard. Every time I passed it, I remembered the trip… remembered the creature lying frozen in there—and shivered.
In our swimsuits, Nicole and I caught some rays in the backyard. Good old sunny Pasadena. Where it never, never snowed.
Thank goodness.
Lauren came over to hear about our trip. I wanted to tell her the whole story. But Dad told us to keep quiet about it—at least until the snowman was safely settled somewhere.
“I don’t believe you two!” Lauren snorted. “A week ago you wouldn’t shut up about snow. Now you’re letting the sun burn you to a crisp!”
“Well, we did the cold thing and now we’re doing the hot thing,” I told her. “Anyway, I’ve seen enough snow to last me the rest of my life.”
“Tell me about the trip,” Lauren insisted. “Tell me everything!”
“It’s a big secret,” Nicole told her. She and I exchanged glances.
“Secret? What kind of secret?” Lauren demanded.
Before we could reply, Dad emerged from the darkroom. He squinted in the sunlight. He wore a down jacket, a ski cap, and gloves. He had turned the air-conditioning way up in the darkroom and covered the trunk with ice packs, to keep the snowman cold.
“I’m going into the city now,” he announced, removing his coat. Dad had a meeting with some scientists and wildlife experts in Los Angeles.
He wanted to turn the Abominable Snowman over to the right people. He wanted to be sure the snowman would be treated well.
“Are you kids going to be all right while I’m gone?” he asked.
“Of course,” Nicole replied. “We survived the Alaskan tundra. I think we can live through one afternoon in our own backyard.”
“My mom is home,” Lauren said. “She’ll be around if we need anything.”
“Good.” Dad nodded. “Okay, I’m off. But remember—Jordan and Nicole, are you listening? Don’t touch the supply trunk. Stay away from it—understood?”
“Gotcha, Dad,” I promised.
“All right. I’ll bring a pizza home for dinner.”
“Good luck, Dad!” Nicole called. I watched him jump into the car and drive off.
“So what’s the big secret?” Lauren asked as soon as Dad was gone. “What’s in the supply trunk?”
Nicole and I glanced at each other.
“Come on. Spill,” Lauren urged. “I won’t leave you alone until you tell me.”
I couldn’t resist. I had to tell someone. “We found him. We found him and we brought him back.”
“Found who?”
“The snowman!” Nicole exclaimed. “The Abominable Snowman!”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “For sure. And did you find the Tooth Fairy up there, too?”
“Yes, we did,” I joked.
“He’s lying in the darkroom right now,” Nicole told Lauren.
Lauren’s face twisted in confusion. “Who—the Tooth Fairy?”
“No. The Abominable Snowman. A real one,” I said. “Trapped in a block of ice.”
Along with four or five snowballs, I thought to myself.
Snowballs I could throw at Lauren. For a nice little surprise.
“Prove it,” Lauren challenged us. “You’re making it all up. You think you’re really funny.”
Nicole and I exchanged glances. I knew what she was thinking. Dad had just told us to stay away from the trunk.
“You two are as bad as the Miller twins,” Lauren complained.
That did it. “Come on,” I said. “We’ll show you.”
“We’d better not, Jordan,” Nicole argued.
“We won’t hurt anything,” I promised. “We’ll just pull open the lid a tiny bit so Lauren can see him. Then we’ll slam it shut. No harm done.”
I climbed off my lounge chair and started across the lawn to the darkroom. Nicole and Lauren followed me.
I knew they would.
I opened the darkroom door and switched on the light. A blast of cold air swept over me, making my bare chest tingle.
Nicole hesitated in the doorway. “Jordan, maybe we shouldn’t.”
“Oh, come on, Nicole,” Lauren chided. “There’s no Abominable Snowman. You two are ridiculous!”
“We’re not ridiculous!” Nicole protested.
“We might as well show her, Nicole,” I said.
Nicole didn’t reply. She stepped into the darkroom and shut the door.
In my bathing suit, I was shivering from the cold. It was almost like being back in Alaska.
I knelt beside the huge trunk. I unhooked the latches.
Slowly, carefully, I lifted the heavy lid.
Peered inside.
And let out a chilling, bloodcurdling scream of horror.
25
Nicole and Lauren shrieked and leaped back.
Nicole backed into the wall with a crash.
Lauren ducked under the developing table.
I couldn’t keep a straight face. I started to laugh. “Gotcha!” I cried gleefully. I was so pleased with myself.
I had scared them to death. They were both stiffer than the Abominable Snowman. He lay frozen and still inside his block of ice.
“Jordan—you creep!” Nicole declared angrily. She punched me in the back.
Lauren punched me too. Then she peered into the open trunk.
And let out another scream. “He’s real! You—you weren’t kidding!” I could see that she was breathing hard.
“It’s okay, Lauren,” I assured her. “He can’t hurt you. He’s frozen.”
She stepped closer and stared down at him.
“He’s huge!” she cried in amazement. “His—his eyes are open. They’re so mean-looking!”
“Close the lid, Jordan,” Nicole insisted. “Quick. We’ve seen enough.”
“Now do you believe us?” I asked Lauren.
She nodded. “It’s… awesome!” She shook her head, stunned at the amazing sight.
Before I shut the lid, I sneaked two snowballs out of the bottom of the trunk. Snickering, I passed one to Nicole.
“What’s so funny?” Lauren asked suspiciously.
“Nothing,” I said. I sealed the lid shut and latched the trunk. That’ll hold him, I thought. We’re safe. Dad will never know we sneaked a peek at the monster.
We left the darkroom, closing the door carefully behind us.
“That creature is just so awesome!” Lauren exclaimed. “What is your dad going to do with him?”
“We’re not sure yet,” Nicole replied. “Dad’s trying to figure that out.”
She held her hands b
ehind her back, hiding the snowball from Lauren. Suddenly she shouted, “Hey, Lauren! Think fast!”
She threw the snowball at Lauren. It missed.
Splat! It hit a tree.
“Nice shot, ace!” I cried sarcastically.
But then I gaped at the tree in shock.
The snowball—it didn’t crumble to the ground.
It started to grow!
Thick white snow spread quickly up the tree trunk—and over the branches. Within seconds, the entire tree was covered with snow!
“Wow!” Lauren gasped. “Nicole—how did you do that?”
Nicole and I stared open-mouthed at the snow-covered tree.
I was so stunned, the snowball fell out of my hand.
I jumped back as it hit the ground—and spread!
“Oh, wow!” I shrieked. I watched snow spread over the lawn like a white blanket.
It spread under our bare feet. Over the driveway. Out to the street.
“Ooooh! It’s cold!” Nicole wailed, hopping from foot to foot.
“This is too weird!” I cried. “It’s a hundred degrees out—and the snow isn’t melting! It’s spreading—and growing deeper!”
I turned to see Lauren hopping and dancing, whirling around wildly. “Snow! Snow!” she sang. “It’s wonderful! Snow in Pasadena!”
“Jordan—” Nicole said quietly. “This isn’t right. We should have left this snow in the cave. It isn’t normal snow.”
Of course she was right. Any cave where an Abominable Snowman lives has got to be a weird place. But how could we have guessed—?
“Let’s build a snowman!” Lauren cried gleefully.
“No!” Nicole warned. “Don’t touch it. Don’t do anything, Lauren. Not until we’ve figured this out.”
I don’t think Lauren heard my sister. She was too excited. She kicked a spray of snow at an evergreen bush. The bush froze over with snow.
“What are we going to do?” I asked Nicole. “What’s going to happen when Dad comes home? He’ll kill us!”
Nicole shrugged. “Beats me.”
“But—but—you’re supposed to be the brain!” I sputtered.
“This is so cool!” Lauren squealed. “Snow in Pasadena!” She picked up a chunk of snow and started balling it up between her hands.