by Greg Trine
“This is what you call a bad day!” Willy screamed. He ran. Little did he know that the monster in question just happened to hate his guts. Being chased by a monster was bad enough. Being chased by one with a grudge was way worse.
The storm surged.
CRACK! Lightning struck.
And then—CRACK!—trees started dropping their body parts, all while Willy was being pursued by a huge, hairy guy with an attitude. Make that a huge, wet, hairy guy with an attitude. A wet dog smells pretty nasty. Try a wet monster. Eew! If the claws didn’t get him, the bad smell would.
Willy kept running—CRACK!—avoiding falling tree branches—CRACK!—and taking his chances with the lightning strikes.
Meanwhile, the monster gained, growling horribly. He’d been pooped on by a seagull, shunned by his own kind, and he’d missed the annual Monster Ball. This was one angry beast.
And then—
CRACK! It was the lightning strike to beat all lightning strikes. The impact threw Willy to the ground. He turned just in time to see a large tree fall right on top of you-know-who. Then came a roar that was not grizzly bear crossed with T. rex. It had no hint of killer whale. It was more like a moose with a charley horse or a cow with a toothache, low and miserable and full of pain.
The monster’s legs were trapped beneath the tree. He looked up at Willy with eyes no longer filled with rage, and moaned again.
“Let that be a lesson to you, big guy,” Willy said, getting to his feet. Then he walked away.
“It was an act of nature,” Willy said to himself as he returned to the creek to grab his duffel. The fish he’d caught were inside. “All’s fair in love and monster fighting. He was trying to get me and a tree fell. It’s not my fault.”
His arguments made sense. After all, it was an act of nature, and it wasn’t really his fault. But then why couldn’t he get the monster’s moan out of his head? Why couldn’t he shake off the look he’d seen in the monster’s eyes?
Ten minutes later, Willy was standing in front of the monster. “Do you know what a good deed is, big guy? It’s kind of like this: If I was to help get this tree off you, that would be a good deed. Do you understand?”
The monster just stared at him and moaned.
“And if someone does you a good deed, you shouldn’t eat him. That’s how it works where I come from.”
More moaning from the monster.
“I’m just saying,” Willy continued, “I’m thinking of helping you out here. And you should be nice when I do. Okay?” If only they taught monster language in school. Willy could say a few things in Spanish, but that was about it. “So the deal is, I help you, and you keep your teeth to yourself. Comprendes?”
More moaning from the monster, but no indication that it understood English or Spanish.
Willy got to work, hoping his kindness wouldn’t backfire. He grabbed a long piece of wood, about as thick as his thigh, and stuffed the tip under the fallen tree. Next he found another log to use as a fulcrum. This was third-grade science stuff. Willy knew all about moving heavy objects with levers. “Okay, here goes!” he yelled. “All you need is some wiggle room.”
Willy threw all of his weight on the other end of the lever. Very slowly the log began to rise. Not much, but it was enough for the monster to pull free. He stood up and looked at Willy.
“Easy,” Willy said, holding his palms out. “We had an agreement, right?”
The monster threw his head back and roared. Then he limped away into the forest.
Chapter 20
Phone Home
Willy grabbed the duffel with the fish inside and headed up the hill toward the wrecked Starlite. He didn’t have any of the purple fruit, but he had something better: the makings of a hot dinner. Would Norp eat fish? Probably. Norp was an eating machine.
As he trudged uphill, Willy kept turning around, scanning the forest behind him for any sign of the monster with a limp. Maybe getting hit by a tree had given him some kind of short-term memory loss and he’d already forgotten about Willy’s good deed. Or maybe his legs were too sore to give chase then, but they felt better now. All these thoughts filled Willy’s head. What if he was being stalked this very second? He stood still and listened. Nothing but the wind in the trees, now that the rain had stopped. He sniffed. Nothing but the Planet Ed version of pine needles.
No monster in the area, Willy concluded. He moved on. When he reached the crash site, he tossed the duffel on the ground in front of the door to the library.
“Food!” Norp came out, smacking his lips. He stooped and unzipped the duffel. “What the—” He was expecting purple fruit, not dead fish.
Willy bent down and grabbed one of the fish, which was fifteen inches long, maybe more. “How do we clean it?”
Norp snorted as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocketknife. “What is it with you Earthlings?” he said, opening the blade. “You can fly through space, but you don’t have pocketknives?”
“Do you know how to clean it?” Willy asked.
“If it’s food, I’ll do what I have to.”
Fair enough, Willy thought, happy that someone else would be doing the fish cleaning. Catching the fish had been fun. Cleaning it? Not so much.
Cindy stepped out of the library. “Fish?” she said.
“Hot dinner,” Willy said. “How’d it go here? Were you able to send a distress signal?”
“Let me show you,” Cindy said. “You’re gonna love it.”
Willy put the fish back inside the duffel and handed the bag to Norp. “Have at it,” he told him.
Norp nodded and dragged the duffel to the edge of the trees and got to work. Meanwhile, Willy followed Cindy inside the library. “Wow,” he said. The entire room had been cleaned. All broken monitors had been removed and the floor swept of broken glass.
Cindy pointed to a monitor with a blinking message:
Party of three stranded on Ed. Need rescue.
“Every five seconds we blast the message out into space,” Cindy said proudly.
Willy looked confused. “But how?”
“We hooked it up to a satellite dish outside, using a bunch of laptop batteries for power. Norp figured it out. He makes the computer geeks on Earth seem like kindergartners.”
And he knew how to clean fish. Willy was liking their alien friend more and more.
“But wait a second,” Willy said, staring at the monitor. “Ed is our name for the planet. So only Earth ships will understand it.”
“We thought of that too,” Cindy said. A few feet away, there was another monitor set up, flashing a different message:
Party of three stranded on Preak. Need rescue.
“Preak?” Willy said. “That’s what they call it on Norp’s planet?”
“Named after some guy’s dog,” Cindy explained. “Or their version of a dog. But I haven’t shown you the best part.” She grabbed Willy by the arm and dragged him to the far end of the room. “We found the movie projector and got it working.”
“Powered by more laptop batteries?” Willy asked.
“Uh-huh.” Cindy grinned. “Want to watch a movie tonight?”
“Sure.”
And so, that evening, after roasting their fish over an open fire, where Willy recounted his adventures of catching the fish and doing a good deed for a monster who wanted to eat him, they retreated to the library and watched a movie . . . or two, which they projected onto the side of the ship.
Their bellies were full, and they had movies to watch. Not a bad way to spend an evening if you’re stranded on a faraway planet in a faraway solar system.
“If only we had popcorn,” Cindy complained.
“What?” Norp asked.
“Never mind.”
While the movie-watching and popcorn-craving was going on, Max, who had been wandering around for some time, found his way back to the tree across the canyon by pure luck. Only it was a deserted tree—with a pile of monster poop at the base.
“Anybody ho
me?” Max called out.
No answer.
Except . . . “Caw.”
Phelps and his new pal Betty had also found their way back to the tree.
But Willy, Cindy, and Norp were nowhere to be seen.
“Where is everybody?” Max asked the bird.
“Caw.” That was all Phelps had to say on the matter. In fact, it was all he had to say on any matter.
Max didn’t bother climbing. Instead, he swung across the canyon on a vine and headed into the trees in search of his friends. Overhead, Phelps and Betty followed.
Chapter 21
One Good Deed . . .
The next morning, Norp woke with one word on his mind. “Food!”
“Good morning to you, too,” Cindy said, yawning.
Willy and Cindy were hungry as well, but Norp craved food like it was going out of style.
“I know where there’s a grove of pink trees,” Willy said. “Maybe we should stick together this time.”
“So the monsters will have their choice of who to eat?” Norp asked.
“Something like that,” Willy said. “I’d feel safer if we were all together.”
Cindy and Norp agreed. Now that the distress signals were being sent, sticking together was the plan. They started down the hillside, Willy leading the way. Soon they reached the creek where Willy had caught the fish. There were plenty more where they had come from, but for now, purple fruit was on the menu.
It was still a little damp from the rainstorm. Steam rose off the soggy ground. They were in for a hot and muggy day. If the monsters were out, they’d need sunglasses. The question was, did they have spares?
In any case, Willy again felt like they were being watched. He nervously scanned the trees around them. He sniffed the air for any sign of—
“Monster breath!” Willy yelled suddenly.
“I smell it too,” Cindy said. And she should know. Of the three, she’d spent the most time in their foul-smelling cave.
And then—
Monster roars, one after another. Moments later, Willy and company saw movement in the forest. Multiple roars meant multiple monsters. All of them hungry. All of them wearing sunglasses.
“Guess we didn’t kill that fashion trend after all,” said Norp.
Cindy’s knees began to knock.
“Run!” Willy yelled.
Down the hillside they ran, snarling, growling monsters hot on their heels, gaining with every step. Tremendous roars sounded all around them—grizzly bear, T. rex, and killer whale, times twenty.
It was an all-out sprint down the hill. Willy leaped a fallen log and kept going. Cindy dove across a creek, rolled, and was back on her feet. Norp ran faster than he’d ever run in his life. But it wasn’t enough.
The monsters were gaining, growling and snapping their sharp monster teeth.
Then another roar sounded, the biggest one of all, grizzly bear, T. rex, and killer whale, with a hint of . . . Harley Davidson motorcycle?
“Don’t like the sound of that,” Willy muttered. Did these monsters have an older brother who had just joined the chase?
“Me neither,” Norp said, picking up the pace.
Willy shuddered at the thought of another monster bigger than the ones he’d already seen. Bigger, hairier, hungrier—and with nastier monster breath.
“Faster!” yelled Norp.
“Spaceship!” Cindy yelled, pointing to the sky.
The gigantic roar was an engine roar, not a bigger version of monster. Their rescue had arrived at last!
Only it was too late. Willy, who was looking up at the ship, tripped and fell to the ground. Cindy tumbled over him, followed by Norp. The monsters closed in, jaws snapping, claws out.
“I’m too young to die,” Willy squeaked.
“Me too,” Cindy said.
“I haven’t even had breakfast,” Norp complained.
The monsters kept moving forward, slowly now, savoring their kill.
Willy tried to get back to his feet, but he was too scared to move. He glanced over at his friends. “Been nice knowing you.”
“You too,” Norp said.
Cindy nodded but said nothing.
But then a monster limped out of the forest to their right and stood between Willy and his friends and the approaching band of monsters.
Willy would know that limp anywhere. “Thanks, big guy.” He jumped to his feet, dragging Cindy and Norp along with him. “Let’s go.”
They ran down the hill and into a clearing, where a small spaceship was waiting. It wasn’t a Starlite 3000, but Willy didn’t care. A spaceship was a spaceship. A rescue was a rescue.
Willy and his friends raced for the ship. Behind them, the monsters were coming up fast. The monster with a limp had stalled them temporarily. Now the chase was on again.
This time Cindy took the lead, followed by Norp and Willy.
“That’s not the Starlite!” Cindy yelled.
“Who cares?” Willy said. “Look what’s behind us.”
“Good point,” Cindy said.
The final fifty yards was an all-out sprint, monsters gaining at every step, jaws snapping, monster breath smelling nastier than ever.
And then Cindy tripped, which sent Norp sprawling. But not Willy. He leaped over them both and yanked them to their feet. “Almost there,” he said.
Willy, Cindy, and Norp dove for the opening of the ship just as the closest monster lunged.
And missed.
The door slid shut, and the ship rose slowly into the air.
High-fives all around. They were safe at last.
And then—
“Wait!” Cindy yelled, pointing out the window. “It’s Max.”
Sure enough it was Max. He burst out of the trees from the other side of the clearing. Overhead flew Phelps and another bird, heading for the ship.
“We can’t leave without them,” Willy said. “Put this thing back down.”
Willy watched in horror as the monsters turned toward Max.
“Run, Max,” Cindy said under her breath.
Overhead the two birds dive-bombed.
Glop!
Glop!
It was a double whammy. Their aim was perfect.
“Put this thing down!” Willy yelled again.
The ship landed once more and opened the door, but only long enough for Max and the two birds to get on board. Then it lifted off again, leaving Planet Ed and some very disappointed monsters behind.
Chapter 22
Home Again
Willy glanced over at Norp, breathing hard. He smiled and said, “You’re going to love our planet.”
Norp gave him a confused look. “What?”
The cockpit door slid open, and out stepped one of the pilots. He was an older version of Norp: green skin, with two antennae sticking out of his head.
“You’re going to love my planet,” Norp said.
Willy glanced over at Cindy, then out the window. Beneath them, the clearing was filling up with Planet Ed creatures of the night, all wearing sunglasses and looking up at the ship.
Once again Willy found himself heading to a new planet. He had no idea what to expect, and the thought scared him.
They were headed away from Earth, not toward it. How was he going to get home?
“What do we do?” Cindy whispered, eyeing the pilot.
Willy shook his head. “Not sure,” he whispered back. If only he could convince the aliens to drop him, Cindy, and the others off before heading to their home planet. He scratched his head and thought it over. How could he convince them? How could he entice them to—
Willy had an idea. He turned to Norp and said, “It’s too bad we’re not going to our planet. We have the best food in the universe.”
Norp, who had been staring out the window, turned and looked at Willy. “What was that?”
“Yep.” Willy let out a sigh. “The best food in the entire universe. Especially this one food. We call it—” He thought of his favorite things t
o eat: hot fudge sundaes, root beer floats, cheeseburgers, pizza. But which one would appeal to an alien? “We call it . . . uh—”
“Waffles,” Cindy said.
Willy turned to her. Hmm, not bad. “Waffles,” he agreed.
Cindy went on. “They’re made by this special machine. And you can put all kinds of toppings on them. Maple syrup, strawberries.”
“Whipped cream,” Willy added.
Norp licked his lips. “Waffles? Really? What do they taste like?”
“They’re to die for,” Willy said, glancing at Cindy for confirmation.
“Uh-huh,” Cindy said, nodding. “To die for.”
Willy let out another sigh. “Too bad, though. We’re heading in the wrong direction.”
The pilot said, “Best food in the universe? Really?”
“Really,” Willy said.
“Absolutely,” Cindy said. “Waffles. You gotta try them.”
The door to the cockpit slid open again, and out stepped the other pilot. “What’s this about food?” Obviously, the ship was on autopilot. No need to steer when you’re traveling along at many times the speed of light.
“Which way to your planet?” asked the first pilot.
The other pilot nodded and licked his lips. “Yes, how do we get there?”
“Turn left at Pluto?” Cindy suggested in a small voice.
“Turn left at Saturn,” Willy said. Saturn was bigger than Pluto. Plus, it had rings. It might be easier to find. Then again, the universe was a very big place. Maybe there were plenty of planets that looked exactly like Saturn. Willy didn’t know. But he didn’t want the pilots to know he didn’t know. “Yep, turn left at Saturn,” he said with confidence. “Isn’t that right, Cindy?”
“Yes. Turn left at Saturn,” she said. “That’ll get us there. I can almost smell those waffles already.”