Revenge of the Invisible Boy

by R. L. Stine

  “You mean not see you like this!” Ari joked.

  Melody slapped him on the arm. “Not funny,” she told him.

  I suddenly had a heavy feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. “My parents aren’t good in emergencies,” I said. “When something bad happens, they just freak out. They start screaming at each other and running around in circles like crazy people.”

  “You’ve got to tell them, Frankie,” Melody said.

  “No, I can’t,” I said. “I have to wait … till the formula wears off. Then I’ll tell them all about it.”

  “Why don’t you call them and say you’re going to stay over at my house?” Eduardo said.

  “But your parents—” I started.

  “They’re away,” he said. “My cousin Natalie is staying with my sister and me. And you’re invisible. She won’t even know you’re there.”

  “That’s perfect,” I said. “Thanks, Eduardo. You’re a good friend.”

  “You’re not a good friend,” Ari said. “You tried to make me disappear.”

  “YOU dropped me onto the stage in front of the whole school. I wish you would disappear!” I exclaimed.

  “Why don’t you try drinking more lemonade?” Ari said.

  I stumbled toward Ari and grabbed him around the waist. I guess I kind of lost it. I tackled him to the ground and held him down.

  He thrashed at me, trying to throw me off him. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Get off me, Frankie!” he screamed.

  “Hey—you’d better stop!”

  I heard Melody’s cry. And turned to see two teachers from the middle school walking up to us. I recognized them right away. Miss Barlow and Mr. Schein.

  Miss Barlow is our teacher. She looks a lot like my grandmother. She’s short and very thin, with curly white hair and crinkly blue eyes.

  Mr. Schein is the music teacher. Everyone thinks he’s cool because he has long black hair, a real bushy mustache, and always looks like he hasn’t shaved for two or three days.

  Their eyes grew wide as they stared down at Ari.

  “Ari, what are you doing?” Mr. Schein asked. “Wrestling with yourself?”

  He finally stopped wrestling. I dropped my arms to my sides and tried to catch my breath.

  “Uh … it’s a new workout,” Ari said. “My dad takes yoga classes, and he taught me how to do it.”

  The teachers stared down at him. I’m pretty sure they didn’t believe him.

  Then Melody spoke up and surprised me by telling the two teachers the truth. “Mr. Schein? Miss Barlow? We need help.”

  Eduardo grabbed her arm. “Uh … Melody … wait.”

  But Melody had decided to tell them what was going on here.

  “What’s the problem?” Miss Barlow asked. “Does Ari need help? Is that why he’s on his back on the grass?”

  Ari jumped to his feet. “No. I don’t need help,” he said.

  “Frankie does,” Melody said.

  Mr. Schein scratched the back of his head. “Frankie? Frankie Miller? Frankie isn’t here.”

  “Yes he is,” Melody said. “He’s here, but he’s invisible.”

  Both teachers laughed.

  “It isn’t funny,” I said.

  Mr. Schein gasped. Miss Barlow glanced around, trying to find me.

  “Melody is telling the truth,” I said. “I drank a magician’s potion, and it turned me invisible.”

  “See? I’m telling the truth,” Melody said. “Can you help us? Do you have any ideas?”

  The two teachers exchanged glances.

  “Hey, no problem,” Mr. Schein said. “Miss Barlow and I know how to handle that.”

  “All you have to do is tickle him,” Miss Barlow said. “That works every time, doesn’t it, Mr. Schein?”

  “Every time,” he said.

  She reached out both hands and moved her fingers, tickling the air. “Tickle, tickle!” she cried.

  Mr. Schein joined in, making tickling motions with both hands.

  Then both teachers walked off, laughing.

  They stopped at the corner and turned back to us. “Where did Frankie’s voice come from?” Mr. Schein shouted. “Oh, I know. From your phone, right?”

  “Very clever,” Miss Barlow said.

  They crossed the street and faded from sight.

  “They didn’t believe us,” Melody said. “Sorry, Frankie.”

  “Yeah. Sorry, Frankie,” Ari said sarcastically. “But I’ve got to get home.” He climbed onto his bike. “Glad you liked my mom’s lemonade!” He tossed back his head and hee-hawed like a donkey. Then he furiously pedaled away.

  “He poisoned me,” I said. “And then he just rides away laughing his head off!”

  “You tried to poison him,” Melody replied. “What if your plan had worked? How bad would you feel if you made Ari invisible, and he couldn’t come back?”

  “Not very,” I said.

  “I just thought of something,” Eduardo said. “Tomorrow is Class Photo Day at school.”

  “You’re kidding me!” I cried. “Tell me that isn’t true. I’m going to be invisible in my class photo?”

  “Maybe you’ll come back before tomorrow,” Eduardo said.

  “Maybe I won’t,” I said. “It isn’t fair. It just isn’t fair. Who wants to be invisible in his class photo?”

  They both stared at where they thought I was standing. They didn’t know what to say.

  I let out a long moan. I couldn’t help it. I was getting really upset. Being invisible had been a lot of fun for an hour. A lot of laughs.

  But I didn’t feel like laughing anymore. It was time to get back to my real life. I moaned again. “What am I going to do?” I cried.

  “Go back to Mystical Marvin,” Melody said.

  “Yeah. She’s right,” Eduardo chimed in. “He’s the only one who can bring you back.”

  “We should have thought of it sooner,” Melody said. “He’ll know exactly what to do.”

  “You can stop being upset,” Eduardo said. “He’ll get you back in no time.”

  I hesitated. “But … he’ll know I stole some of his formula. Maybe he’ll be too angry to help me.”

  “That’s dumb,” Melody said. “He’ll help you even if he is angry. He’ll feel sorry for you.”

  “Let’s go to the theater,” Eduardo said. He pulled my bike up from the grass and waited for me to climb on.

  I sat down and curled my hands around the handlebars. “I’m starting to feel better,” I said. “You’re right. We should have thought of this sooner.”

  Melody and Eduardo climbed onto their bikes and we began to ride toward the Town Center. It was nearly dinnertime. Cars jammed the streets. Evening rush hour. People driving home after their jobs.

  Of course, we got a lot of attention from people in cars. We were riding single file along the curb. My bike was in the middle. People saw the pedals moving up and down—but no one on the bike.

  Cars honked and people shouted at us. One car squealed to a stop and four passengers stuck their heads out the windows to gawk at us.

  I kept my eyes straight ahead. It would have been a riot to watch, but there was nothing funny about this anymore.

  I had only one thing on my mind—getting to the theater and asking Mystical Marvin to reverse the potion and make me visible again.

  The Town Center wasn’t far from our neighborhood. But to me, the trip seemed to take hours. Finally, we rolled up in front of the theater. I let my bike fall to the sidewalk and hurried up to the entrance doors. Melody and Eduardo were close behind me.

  I peered through the glass doors. The box office inside was dark. The whole entry hall was dark.

  A large poster stood at the side of the entrance. It showed Mystical Marvin in his billowing red cape. He had a magic wand perched in one hand. His blue eyes appeared to glow above his smile.

  I walked over to the poster. A yellow banner had been strung across the front. And on the banner, in big black type, were the words:

>   PERFORMANCE CANCELED.

  Why?

  Where was Mystical Marvin?

  I read the two words over and over. Melody and Eduardo stared at the poster beside me. “No show tonight,” Eduardo said.

  “Let’s see what’s up,” I said.

  I moved to the entrance doors and tried pulling them open.

  They were locked.

  “We can go to the dressing room entrance in back,” I said. “Maybe that door is open. If it isn’t, we can shout for someone to let us in.”

  We walked our bikes to the alley at the side of the theater. Several trash cans were lined up along the low stone wall across from the theater. We edged our way past them and followed the alley toward the back.

  The sun had gone down, and the alley was dark. Melody’s and Eduardo’s long shadows moved beside them. I didn’t have a shadow. That made me feel sad. And even more frightened.

  I stopped in front of a narrow metal door cut into the side of the theater. “Let’s try it,” I said.

  The door didn’t have a handle or a doorknob. I found a narrow opening. I slid my fingers in and pulled the door open. I leaned forward and peered in.

  I could see the rows of seats in the theater. We were at one of the side exits. “Let’s go,” I said.

  We stepped into the theater. The auditorium was completely dark. The stage was lit by a single lamp on a pole in the center.

  It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. “It smells so stale in here,” I murmured. My voice sounded muffled in the giant space.

  “Maybe they don’t ever clean it,” Melody whispered.

  “It’s a very old theater,” Eduardo said. “My grandfather says he used to come here when he was a boy.”

  I turned and gazed at the stage. It was still set up for Mystical Marvin’s act. The red curtain was pulled open. The water tank still stood near the wings.

  I let out a long sigh of relief. “At least his stuff is still here,” I said. “That means he’ll be back.”

  “Anybody here?” Melody called in a loud voice. I jumped. I wasn’t expecting her to shout. “Hello? Anybody here?” Her voice rang off the high walls.

  Silence.

  “No one here,” Eduardo whispered. “Maybe we should come back later. I mean—”

  “No!” I said. “We have to look backstage. Maybe he’s back there.” I started to the narrow passageway that led past the stage. “Follow me.”

  “We can’t follow you,” Melody said. “Did you forget?”

  I let Melody lead the way backstage. Dim light washed over the area from one of the dressing rooms. The chest of props we had seen before had been pushed against one wall.

  A row of auditorium seats were lined up beside it. A giant red ball sat in one of the seats. A large poster of King Kong was tilted against another wall.

  No sign of Mystical Marvin.

  “Anyone here?” Melody called again. “Hello?”

  I let out a cry as something bumped me. Something scrambled over my shoes. I tripped over it. Caught myself before I fell.

  I peered down. A fat mouse was running toward the dressing rooms. It couldn’t see me, so it ran right over my foot!

  “Frankie, what’s your problem?” Eduardo turned to where he thought I was standing.

  “You two aren’t afraid of mice, are you?” I replied.

  “No,” they both said.

  “Good,” I said.

  I heard a clattering sound. It came from the open dressing room.

  “Hey! Someone there?” I trotted over to it. Melody and Eduardo were close behind me.

  “Whoa!” I saw the janitor at Mystical Marvin’s dressing table. The same old guy Melody and I had seen after the performance.

  He wore his gray work uniform. The shirt was open, revealing a white T-shirt underneath. His long gray hair fell over his forehead as he worked.

  He had a roll of paper towels and a can of some kind of spray cleaner. He was wiping down the top of the dressing table.

  He stopped and gazed at Melody and Eduardo. His face twisted in surprise. “Can I help you?” he asked in a gravelly, hoarse voice.

  “We’re here to talk to Mystical Marvin,” Melody said.

  The man’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How’d you get in here?”

  “The side door was open,” Eduardo said.

  The janitor climbed to his feet. “You shouldn’t be in here. If you are looking for autographs—”

  “No. We don’t want autographs,” Melody said. “We need to see Mystical Marvin. It’s … it’s a real emergency.”

  The man rubbed his stubbly white whiskers. “I’m the only one here,” he said. “I have to ask you to leave. The show is canceled.”

  “But is he nearby?” Eduardo said. “When is he coming back?”

  “I don’t know. You’re out of luck.”

  “It’s really important,” Melody said, her voice rising. “Please. Do you know where he is?”

  The man shook his head. “No one does.”

  “Excuse me?” Eduardo said. “No one knows where he is?”

  “He disappeared,” the janitor replied.

  “You mean he quit the show?” Eduardo asked.

  “No. He disappeared.” The man picked up his roll of paper towels and the can of cleaner. “I’m telling you the truth. I saw him take a drink from a little glass bottle. And then he disappeared. Flash. Disappeared. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “And … you don’t know where he went?” Melody demanded.

  “No. Not a clue. No one knows where he is. He disappeared after Saturday’s show—and he never came back.”

  What did the doctor say when the Invisible Man came to his office?

  “Sorry, I can’t see you now.”

  Hahahaha.

  Didn’t Mystical Marvin ever hear the old saying, The show must go on? Maybe he thinks people won’t come to a magic show when you can’t see who is doing the tricks. Ha.

  Is Mystical Marvin finished in show business?

  Is Frankie just plain finished?

  We’ll see …

  Or maybe we won’t see! Hahahaha.

  Dinner at Eduardo’s house was weird.

  Veronica is only six, and she’s a terror. She’s seriously wild. I mean she screeches like a hyena and laughs all the time and thinks it’s really funny to sneak up on you and shove you in the belly as hard as she can.

  I was lucky to be invisible. Veronica couldn’t shove me or punch me or beat me up.

  Their cousin Natalie, who was staying with them, is probably eighteen or nineteen. She is tall with green eyes and and long black hair. She walks in slow motion, her hair swaying like a horse’s tail behind her.

  She never took her eyes off her phone. Seriously. She never looked up from her phone screen. She held the phone in one hand, texted all through dinner, and didn’t say two words to Eduardo or Veronica.

  Eduardo was the only one who knew I was sitting at the dinner table with them. I sat next to him, and he kept slipping me food when no one was watching.

  Natalie had brought home a big bag of McDonald’s, and Eduardo kept handing me chicken nuggets and fries under the table.

  “Why didn’t you get me a Happy Meal?” Veronica demanded in her loud, whiny voice. “Why didn’t I get a toy?”

  “You have enough toys,” Natalie told her. She just kept typing with one thumb as she ate her Quarter Pounder.

  “Those toys are boring, anyway,” Eduardo told his sister.

  She threw a chicken nugget across the table and it bounced off his forehead. “They are not!”

  Natalie went into the kitchen to get more ketchup.

  I decided to have a little fun with Veronica. I crept up behind her. I pulled two chicken nuggets from her pack. I raised them high and made them dance in the air in front of her.

  She gasped and made a grab for them. I swung them out of her reach. “Eduardo—look!” she cried. “Those nuggets—”

  I dropped them back onto
the table.

  “What’s wrong with the nuggets?” Eduardo asked, acting innocent.

  “They—they jumped around in the air!” his sister stammered. “Didn’t you see them?”

  “Chicken nuggets don’t fly,” Eduardo said.

  “But—but—!” Veronica sputtered. She picked one up and examined it closely.

  “Stop making up stuff,” Eduardo said. “It isn’t funny.”

  She shoved the nuggets away. “Think I’ll just eat the fries.”

  * * *

  Eduardo’s room is small. His wall is covered with baseball posters, and the whole space is cluttered with piles of sports cards and framed photos of Mets players and sports magazines he reads. Two shelves are jammed with the shiny silver trophies he won for basketball and Little League baseball.

  Twin beds were squeezed into one end of the room. The beds had New York Mets orange-and-blue quilts over them.

  “Take that one,” Eduardo said, pointing to the bed next to the window.

  “What a crummy day,” I moaned. “I am so stressed out, I don’t know if I can fall asleep.”

  “Count invisible sheep!” Eduardo said.

  I had to laugh. He almost never makes jokes. I knew he was trying to cheer me up.

  “You’ll probably be back to normal in the morning,” he said.

  “You think?”

  I wasn’t so sure.

  I climbed into bed and stretched out on my back. The bed was soft and comfortable. I couldn’t stop yawning. Maybe I could fall asleep. I tugged the quilt up to my chin and shut my eyes.

  Just as I was drifting off, Eduardo’s cousin Natalie burst into the room. Light from the hallway washed in through the open door.

  “Just wanted to say good night,” Natalie said. “I—” She stopped and stared at my bed.

  She turned to Eduardo. “Hey, why did you mess up the other bed? I’m not making two beds.”

  Eduardo raised his head from his pillow. He pretended to be half-asleep. “Uh … I didn’t do it. The dog did it.”

  Natalie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Did you forget? You don’t have a dog.”

  Eduardo thought for a minute. “We don’t?”

  “No,” Natalie said. “You don’t. So why did you mess up the other bed?”