10
The Truth About Weddings (As Told by The Creeps)
The Creeps loved travel like snakes loved to slither. The trip to the Wedding while hiding under Billy’s family car was just the kind of mission they relished. The reasons were simple:
1. It was really dangerous.
2. The underneath of a car is dark and smelly and scary.
3. They could sometimes steal pieces of the car’s insides that would make the car “break down” later, which was mean and a lot of trouble for the “Humes,” as they called humans.
4. And all these things were bad, and bad to them was the purest kind of fun.
The Creeps had been spying on Billy and Ollie for days. They’d been listening at the windows or from flower beds. They’d made little tunnels into the walls of Billy’s house and could travel from room to room without being seen. They’d spied from electrical outlets or tiny cracks along the floorboards.
So they knew everything about this Wedding. But they had planned on stealing Ollie while Billy went to the Wedding, when Ollie would be alone in the house. They’d found a way into Billy’s room: an old mouse hole near his chest of drawers. That’s where they were waiting when at the last second Billy had changed the Parentals’ minds. But the Creeps, in fact, weren’t worried. They don’t ever miss a beat.
Super Creep: Plan A is shot, boys. looks like a low ride. Go! Go! Go!
The Creeps could barely contain their excitement as they rushed through the walls and out from a loose floorboard under the front steps. From there it would be a quick but dangerous dash to the car in the driveway—for about ten feet they would be completely in the open, nothing to hide under, just an expanse of grass and concrete. But the Parentals were still locking the front door, so “GO, GO, GO!” the Super Creep ordered. The Creeps’ little metal bits squeaked like giggles as they scurried out just an instant before Billy and his Parentals came down the stairs. The Creeps were already tucked behind the front tire by the time Billy walked by. Super Creep got a quick peek as Billy opened the car’s back door.
Super Creep: All good. he’s got the pack-’n-the-back. I can smell the Fave inside it!
As Billy’s dad started the car, the Creeps scrambled into the wheel well and took their places on the axle. The car began to back up. In a few moments they were bouncing happily along, the road streaking beneath them. They squealed with pleasure at every sharp turn. Though they each had plenty of hooks and tiny magnets to hold them in place, there was still plenty of danger, and that made it even more fun. A sudden pothole almost jarred them all to their doom. They cheered in glee.
They were crazy with reckless courage and joy by the time the car stopped at the church. Once there, the job was fairly easy. The Humes were too distracted with being on time, or late, or missing the ceremony, or getting a good seat to pay much attention to them.
Still, Super Creep warned: If spotted, look trashy.
Despite there being dozens of people in the parking lot, the Creeps were almost seen only once. But they instantly collapsed on the ground like bits of trash, and no one even gave them a second glance.
Once they made their way inside the church, they moved quickly and stealthily. They snatched flowers from an arrangement on a table in the lobby and used them as camouflage until they crept under the pews. From there, the mission was a cinch. They could see Billy’s pack-’n-the-back on the floor, four rows up. It was the only backpack. They crept quietly through the multitude of nice shiny shoes, pausing to leave a dark scuff on a lady’s white high heels and scratching a really new-looking fancy shoe. The music and talking covered any noise they made. And by the time all the people were clapping at the ceremony’s end, the Creeps had already left the church.
There wouldn’t be another car ride for them on this mission. It didn’t matter. They knew every drainpipe in town. They were splashing through sewers and giggling over their successful mission at the very same time Billy was eating his first piece of wedding cake.
Billy had cake, but, in a small, dark sack, they had Ollie.
11
The Hugest A-Venture Yet
For Billy, the rest of the Wedding was a bewildering blur. He had never seen so many grown-ups standing and talking forever. AND THEY TALKED SO LOUD. What is it with grown-ups and talking SO LOUD? They were always telling Billy to use his indoor voice, and here they all were, indoors, and practically shouting every. Single. WORD. THEY. SAID. And there were a bunch of guys playing musical instruments, which made everything ten times louder.
“That’s a band,” explained Billy’s mother. “Aren’t they fun?”
Billy didn’t even try to explain to her his new understanding of grown-up fun: that it was strange and boring and loud and embarrassing. And he had been subjected to constant embarrassment for the past seven hundred hours. His parents had dragged Billy to about a million different grown-up people, and to each one of them his mom or dad would say in a really shouty way, “HELLLLLOOOOOO . . .” And then they would hug or shake hands and smile in a kinda alarming way and then they’d turn to Billy and say, “This is our little boy, Billy,” and then . . . things . . . became . . . insane. Embarrassing. And insane. The grown-ups would scream, “He is so CUTE!” or “HE’S ADORABLE!” Sometimes they would add, “I COULD JUST EAT HIM UP!” What? Are they CANNIBALS? wondered Billy. And the grown-up men—every one!—would say, “Well, isn’t he the handsome little man.”
And almost every. Single. Time the grown-ups would put one of their hands on his head and do this weird mess-up-his-hair thing. Or worse. Hug him. And worse. KISS HIM ON THE CHEEK.
Billy could barely believe what was happening. Weddings make grown-ups nuts, he decided. He knew better than to try to tell Ollie now. It was too loud, and the grown-ups might see Ollie, and who knows how bad it would get after that. The hugging. The kissing. I mean, come on!
Finally, everyone sat down at a table. And his mom brought him a plate crowded with “fancy food,” meaning horrible things wrapped up in other horrible things to disguise the horribleness, and Billy was no way, no how eating hidden asparagus! Blechhh! But then came the cake. The cake was actually impressive. It was huge and white and had a toy man and woman on top, which nobody played with. So Billy ate cake until he couldn’t eat any more. And that’s when he got sleepy.
The next thing he knew he was being slung over his dad’s shoulder, being carried away from the Wedding.
“Where’s Ollie?” he managed to mumble through a haze of sleepiness.
“Right here,” his mom told him, holding up the backpack and giving it a pat.
Then Billy was in the backseat of the car, and he could see that the backpack was beside him, but then he must have fallen asleep again because next thing he knew, he was already in his pajamas, lying in his own bed.
“Where’s Ollie?” Billy mumbled again as his mom pulled the covers up.
“Right here,” she said again, gently placing the backpack near Billy’s pillow.
Sleepily, Billy rolled over and reached inside, but when his fingers didn’t touch the familiar plush softness, he bolted upright.
“Where’s Ollie?” he nearly shouted, wide awake.
“Well, I’m sure he’s . . . ,” Billy’s mom began, reaching a hand into the pack herself. When she realized it was empty she let out a little moan. “Oh honey, we told you not to take Ollie out at the wedding.”
“I didn’t!” Billy cried, checking the backpack once more. “I never took him out!”
“Maybe he fell out in the backseat,” Dad suggested, and he hurried down to the car, but he came back shaking his head. “Not there, buddy. I’m sorry.”
Billy stared at his parents. He felt like he was going to be sick. “We’ve got to find Ollie,” he said. “We have to find him. Now.”
It was late, and Billy’s parents were tired. But they knew how important Ollie was to their son, and so they kept looking.
“Let’s retrace our steps,” Billy’s dad suggested.
“That always works for me when I’ve lost something.”
Billy got out of bed and followed his parents out the front door. It was dark, of course, and it had gotten colder. Billy shivered as they checked the porch and then went down the steps and walked slowly along the sidewalk, stooping to look under the bushes.
“You’re cold,” Billy’s mom said, and she tried to take him in her arms, but he shook her away and headed for the car.
His parents helped him search every nook and cranny of the car, but Ollie was nowhere to be found.
So they retraced their steps again, this time from the car to the porch and back up to Billy’s bedroom.
“He must have fallen out at the wedding hall,” Billy’s mom said at last.
“Then we have to go back and get him! We have to retrace our steps to the Wedding.” Billy started for the door again, but his mom stopped him. She knelt on the floor so they would be eye to eye.
“Listen, sweetie. It’s too late to go back there tonight. The place will be closed by now. Everyone will have gone home already.”
Billy shut his eyes. He imagined Ollie under the table, in the dark, in a strange place. Alone. Ollie had never slept alone.
And neither had Billy.
“We’ve got to go get Ollie,” Billy said again firmly.
“I’m sorry, buddy.” His dad put a hand on his shoulder and knelt down as well. “It’s just too late tonight.”
“It’ll be okay, I promise,” his mom said. She hugged him close. “We’ll go get Ollie first thing in the morning. No one will take him. He’ll be safe there, and we’ll get him back and everything will be okay.”
That’s what they kept repeating: everything will be okay. And Billy wanted to believe them—he did. But he couldn’t. He knew something was wrong; he knew Ollie was in trouble. He wasn’t sure how he knew. But the feeling was there, and it wouldn’t go away.
“Let’s get you back in bed, sweetie,” his mom said, and that’s exactly what Billy did. He got back in bed, and he let himself be tucked in.
“Everything will be okay,” his mom repeated one last time as she and his dad kissed him good night, and Billy nodded like he believed her, and closed his eyes.
Then he waited. He waited for his mom and dad to leave the room after watching him for a long while. He waited for their footsteps to fade down the hall, for the sound of their voices to fade as well. He waited until everything fell into silence and the only sounds were the creaks of the old house itself. He waited until the moon was at the very top corner of his window.
And then Billy opened his eyes.
He was going on his Hugest A-venture yet.
He was going to find Ollie.
12
ZoZo’s Lair
Maybe this is a game. That’s what Ollie thought at first. Some kind of wedding A-venture game where little flower dudes put you in a sack and took you somewhere and hid you. Kind of like hide-and-seek. Billy was good at hide-and-seek. He’d find Ollie in no time. Or was Ollie supposed to find Billy? And who were these little flower dudes, anyway?
But time passed—a lot of time, it felt like—and Ollie was still in the sack.
Wow, this is a really long game of hide-and-seek, Ollie thought. And an uncomfortable one. Ollie was bounced and dropped and knocked around. The flower dudes play pretty rough. And then just like that, he was dumped out of the sack and onto a cold, hard floor of a . . . What was this place?
The room wasn’t like any room he had ever been in before. It was big—big enough to make echoes. And everything was shadowy.
Ollie was still hoping that this was hide-and-seek. “Ready or not, here I come!” His voice echoed sadly and then faded to silence.
“Okay. One, two, three, NOT it!” he tried. Again there was an echo, but this time there were also whispers: “Not it.” “Nope. He’s ‘not it.’ ” “Not. Not. Not it.”
As Ollie’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he began to make out shapes hanging from the walls around him. Dozens of shapes. All whispering. He walked to one side of the room, and he saw that the shapes were toys. A whole lot of toys. Like him. But not like him. They were dirty and faded. Many were torn in places—lots of places—with stuffing sticking out of an arm or a leg, or an ear missing. Many were tied to the wall with jagged gnarls of wire. The wire looked to be wrapped very tightly—on some of the toys it had cut right into their fabric. Ollie thought this was a terrible way to store toys and started to forget about hide-and-seek and instead wonder who had done this, and why.
“Um, excuse me,” Ollie said to a teddy bear who was closest and who seemed to be looking straight at him, although it was hard to tell exactly because one eye was gone and the other was held on by a sort of one-eyed glasses thing. “Are you one of Billy’s parents’ toys, like from the attic? Is this the attic? I’m not sure Billy will find me up here. I mean, he’s never allowed to come up here by himself.”
“Who’s Billy?” the one-eye toy asked.
Ollie looked at him in surprise. Maybe One-Eye Teddy had been in the attic a long, long time, and no one had ever told him about Billy.
“Billy is my boy. He lives in this house. This is the attic, right?”
“No boys live here,” said another nearby toy, a kind of elephant.
“And this is not the attic,” said a stubby-armed dino.
One-Eye Teddy said, “You’re at Zozo’s.”
“What’s a Zozo?” Ollie asked, thinking that maybe it was the name of Billy’s dad’s favorite toy.
“You’ll see,” One-Eye Teddy said, turning his one eye away.
Again, there was silence, and Ollie tried to get his bearings. Perhaps, he thought, this whole thing was related to the Wedding somehow.
A poor moldy bunny with a tiny carrot stitched onto one paw interrupted his thoughts. “You’re a favorite, aren’t you?”
Ollie nodded. “Billy’s favorite.”
“I was a favorite,” Elephant spoke up. “Once. We were all favorites . . . once,” he added with a sigh.
“Who made you a favorite?” Ollie asked Elephant.
The elephant’s plastic eyes brightened for a moment and then just as quickly dimmed to a dull black. “It was a little girl. . . .” He trailed off.
“He can’t remember her name,” Carrot Bunny explained. “That’s what happens when you’ve been at Zozo’s long enough. You forget your kid.” The other toys muttered in agreement.
“That’s impossible. I’ll never forget my kid,” Ollie exclaimed. “I’ll never forget Billy!”
Silence again. Dead silence. Ollie could feel the toys watching him. Not just Dino and Elephant, but all the others too—those unidentifiable shapes in the darkness.
When One-Eye Teddy spoke again, he didn’t sound mean—only as if he were stating a simple fact. “Just wait, you’ll see.”
But Ollie didn’t want to wait. He didn’t like this place at all. It was dark and it smelled bad, kind of like the cellar in Billy’s house—damp and musty—only much, much worse.
“I’m ready to leave now.”
Ollie didn’t mean to say it out loud, but he must have because a murmuring went through the shapes in response.
“Sometimes a toy escapes,” Elephant conceded.
“But the Creeps always bring them back,” Carrot Bunny added.
“Are those the guys who brought me here?” asked Ollie.
“Yep,” said One-Eye Teddy. “And they keep ya here.”
“Well, they’re not keeping me. I’m leaving,” Ollie said. “And I’ll bring my Billy to help you get away, too.” Then he started to look for a way out.
The toys continued to watch him with their dull eyes.
“The newbies never believe,” Ollie heard one of them say.
And Ollie, who had felt fairly brave until that moment, suddenly felt a flicker of unbrave. He began to tremble, just enough to make the small bell-heart in his center begin to jingle. If the other toys heard the sound, they did not comment. But Ollie heard it
, felt it, and it made him think of Billy and Billy’s mom and how she had, with her own two hands, made Ollie so he could look after Billy. And that helped him feel stronger.
I will get out of here, he told himself. Billy looked left, then patchpaw, then left again, and saw there was a doorway that was dark and damp, so he figured that that must be the way out. Ollie trembled again—his bell-heart giving a jingle—this time, though, from excitement as he made his way through the shadows. Then a voice rang out.
“IT’S NOT THE ONE!” It was unlike any voice Ollie had ever heard.
And there it was again. “IT’S NOT MY FAVORITE!”
The voice was pure anger; it was hate—things that Ollie had never really known but now sensed. Ollie turned around and saw what must have been, at one time, a toy. A clown toy.
Ollie knew about clowns. He had been to the circus with Billy. He knew they were supposed to be happy, funny creatures. But often they were not. Even when their lips were smiling, their eyes often gave away their sadness.
This clown standing before Ollie, however, did not even attempt to smile. His red mouth was turned down in a terrible sneer, and his black eyebrows formed a deep V across his wide forehead. The paint on his face was chipped and flaking, and rust seemed to be eating him away. His pointed hat was bent at a sharp angle. But his eyes were not sad. His eyes were most frightening. They were black as coal, and they seemed to look inside of Ollie.
“He’s just a plush,” Zozo growled to his Creeps, who walked with him. “He’s not it.”
“But he’s a favorite, Zozo,” the Super Creep stated. Zozo turned his glare toward the him.
“I mean ‘boss’!” the Super Creep amended, groveling.
Zozo made a sound of disgust. “He’s a Homemade, too.”
Ollie had never really known fear. But what he was feeling right now, this terrible uncertainty— Who was this? Why am I here? What do they want? The not knowing—these things must be fear. But Billy’s parents always said, “Don’t be afraid,” and so did Billy, so at that moment Ollie decided he wouldn’t be afraid.
The Lost Page 4