Some headed to Betty to help. Others, wide-eyed and drooling, headed for us, licking their lips.
“Snackie!” yelled a massive, hairy, tusked monster on two legs with bug eyes. “Oh, snackieeeee!!!”
“I’m sick of everyone thinking we’re snack food,” said Gordon. A zombie pounced on him, and he pushed him back. Gordon turned to Clive and said, “Tell your friend to chill!”
“Sorry, dude,” said Clive. “I don’t speak Brazilian.”
Betty and Clarice rolled around on the floor, knocking over Ben and Nabila.
“Watch out!” Nabila yelled. “Those teeth are like razors.”
“Stop being such a ninny,” Clarice yelled at Betty. “Get control of yourself.” Clarice pulled Betty’s hair, and Betty SCREEEEEEEECHed again.
The monkey screeched and pointed ahead. The tusked monster was headed right for me.
I held up my pendant and yelled, “I am your Director and I demand that you stop this instant!”
ROOOOOOOOOOOAR!
The tusked monster didn’t care that I was a Director. I tried to back up, but the battling banshees were in the way.
Betty just wouldn’t leave Clarice alone. Betty lifted her head, opened her toothy mouth wide, and came down on Clarice’s neck.
Shane roundhouse kicked Betty in the face. She rolled off of Clarice and knocked over the tusked monster before it could sink its claws into me. I jumped to the right as Betty got up, pushed Shane to the floor, and jumped on Clarice again.
“It’s all right!” screeched Clarice. “I’ve got this. Watch the other ones, though. I don’t trust their shifty eyes.”
The younger, stronger monsters of Gallow Manor bared their fangs, bugged their eyes, and pushed back the older monsters of The House of Eternal Rest.
“I’m so confused,” said Twenty-Three. “I knew Earth wasn’t the most peaceful place, but I always thought monsters were supposed to help other monsters!”
“François!” I yelled. “Get up and do something before someone gets hurt!”
“I told you,” said François from the safety of the floor, “you’re not giving any orders around here.” He wrapped his wings around his head. “I can’t deal with this anymore.”
“You don’t want Tikoloshe to be mad at you, do you?” I asked François. “What if you hurt one of his residents?”
François stared at the battle for a second and then said, “Fine. Help me up.”
Gordon and I helped François up.
He raised his wings and yelled, “Enough, everyone. It’s time to head out, anyway—let’s begin our night!”
But nobody listened.
“Better try harder than that, bat man,” said Pietro. “These guys are getting stronger by the second.”
“I . . . I . . . ,” stammered François, “can’t control them anymore!”
EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
I had almost forgotten about Clarice.
She screeched the loudest she had screeched yet and lifted her hand high in the air. She made a claw and stared Betty directly in the eyes. “Enough,” Clarice hissed. Her nails shone in the darkness.
EEEEEEEE-SWIPE!
“Whoa!” said Shane.
Clarice scratched Betty’s face before Betty could attack with her razor-sharp teeth. Betty dropped to the floor . . .
. . . and the dungeon went deathly silent.
All of the old monsters who were struggling with my friends stopped and shuffled around aimlessly as if nothing had happened.
“That’s all you got?” Gil asked the adze he had been fighting. The adze ignored him and headed up the stairs to start his night in Yangambi.
“Clarice!” yelled Betty, clutching her bloody, wrinkled face. “What did you do to me? And why are you here?”
“What am I doing?” asked Clarice, plucking the skin from under her fingernails. “What were you doing? It’s like you were possessed.”
“Well, I guess you broke the spell!” said Betty. “Come here and give an old girl a hug!”
The two banshees hugged. The rest of the monsters shrugged and headed for the stairs.
François walked up with them. He turned at the first stair. “Well, we’ll be out for the night,” he said. “For your safety, I’ll lock the door at the top from the outside.”
“Wait, WHAT?!” Gordon screeched. “You can’t do that!”
Gordon rushed at François again. This time I held him back. “What does it matter?” I said. “We know they’re coming back.”
I watched François carefully as he headed up the stairs.
“He looks defeated,” said Nabila, walking over to me. “His wings are hanging down low. He seems tired.”
“His act is wearing thin,” said Director Z. “Whatever it is he’s hiding, I think he’s going to reveal it soon.”
“We should track him,” said Ben. “Keep an eye on him. Keep an eye on all of them.”
Director Z motioned to Pietro.
“I’m on it,” said Pietro. He jumped up the stairs and had turned into a werewolf by the time his paws hit the third stair.
“Thanks, Pietro!” I said.
“Do you think François will let Pietro join?” asked Nabila.
“François looks like he won’t even notice him slink up the stairs,” I said. “He probably wouldn’t even notice us.”
“So let’s go,” said Gordon. “This place is giving me the supercreeps.”
“I thought you were the one who couldn’t handle much more jungle,” said Nabila. “And we can’t leave Chris alone. Remember, he can’t leave.”
“Yes, stay with me,” I said. “We have the secret lair of these monsters all to ourselves. Let’s look for clues about this Tikoloshe. And what happened to their Director.”
I turned back to the two banshees. Clarice now had a lace handkerchief in her hand and was dabbing Betty’s face with it.
“Well, the good news is, it gets better from here,” said Clarice. “I’m sorry that I nearly scratched your face off, but I hope it made you realize how much you need to moisturize.”
“Oh, that’s not going to do me any good, darling,” said Betty. “Not for someone my age.”
“I would have lost my mind if I didn’t hold on to some piece of my youth when I was alone and sapped of all my energies,” Clarice said. “I kept myself looking good and ended up kissing quite the interesting gentleman just a little while back.”
“Who?” asked Betty.
Clarice simply pointed up the stairs.
“The werewolf?” gasped Betty. “My, my! I always knew you liked the hairy ones, but still . . .”
“Cut the kissy stuff,” said Gordon.
“Oh, he’s right, we’re just gossiping,” said Clarice. “Is there somewhere more private we could speak?”
“Yes, yes, what am I thinking?” Betty chuckled. “Come to my room, and I’ll boil frog water for some tea.”
The two ladies giggled and screeched as they made their way down the hallway.
“C’mon,” I said. “Let’s follow them into the hall. We can search the monsters’ rooms for clues while they’re all out on the town.”
Slinking Around
“I’ve got an amazing idea,” said Gordon. “How about, instead of spending so much time searching these rooms, we sleep in one of them? Not all of them have tarantula beds. This one doesn’t.”
“That is an amazing idea,” said Nabila, yawning. “Being hypnotized and forced to think that you’re a tasty treat is really hard work. My arms are still sore from flapping around. And my face is super sore from these zits. They’re throbbing.”
We stood in the center of another cell-like room deep in the dungeon of The House of Eternal Rest. A lightbulb hung from the stone ceiling, flickering. Director Z and the monsters were spread out through the rest of
the dungeon pawing through every room for clues that would help us get out of this mess.
“The hair all over that bed makes me think it’s Rangda’s,” said Shane. “You know what Rangda is known for, right?”
“Rang-who?” asked Gordon, yawning.
“Rangda the Balinese witch,” said Shane. “The bug-eyed tusky one that was headed for Chris when Clarice and Betty were battling. She likes to eat small children.”
“Who are you callin’ small?” asked Gordon.
“I’m just saying, you gotta ask yourself, ‘Is Rangda feelin’ hungry after a night on the town?’”
“You probably don’t want your scent in any of these monsters’ beds,” said Nabila. “They’re already ready to eat us. We don’t want to keep reminding them.” She stared at the mattress longingly. “Still, that looks so comfortable.”
“Once we’ve helped Chris,” Shane said, “I’m going to hunker down with some of Betty’s frog-water tea and snuggle into a tarantula bed.”
“Such a weirdo,” said Gordon.
“Why thank you,” said Shane.
“I could fall asleep standing up,” I said. “My head aches and I’d love to rest, but the quicker we solve this mystery, the quicker I’m free of this place.”
“That sounds like your problem,” said Nabila, yawning. “Your mystery. So tired.”
I peeked under a regular mattress that wasn’t made from an ever-shifting vat of tarantulas and didn’t see anything but a few crumbs and centipedes. They eyed me angrily as I put it down again.
“Fine,” I grumbled to Nabila. “I know you’re only being a turd because your face hurts so much. Take a break here.”
Nabila flopped down face-first onto Rangda’s bed, and a huge cloud of hair lifted up and into the room.
SNOOOOOOOOOOOORE.
“Wow, she really was tired,” I said. “This room is clear. Nothing to find here. But let’s take a breather before we head to the next one.”
“What are we looking for? What is the mystery we’re trying to solve?” Ben asked. “Or mysteries? There’s a lot going on, and this is the first time we’ve stopped crashing through the jungle in three weeks.”
“This is one heck of an unexplained mystery,” said Gordon, probing his face while he looked into a cracked mirror. “Why is our perfect skin breaking out in volcanic zits?”
I sat on the edge of the bed, exhausted. “The zits are just one issue,” I said.
“It must feel nice that you don’t even have to deal with that issue,” huffed Ben.
“Yet,” I said back. “But I’ve got plenty of other things to worry about. And I’m trying to figure out how the zits are connected to everything else. I know Director Z keeps telling me to notice things, but I’ve been so tired, and half the time I forget why I’m here. I mean, I didn’t even know my own name until a few days ago.”
“Oh, wait a minute,” said Shane. He picked up a box that had been hiding under the bed, flipped it upside down, and shook it hard. “I thought this room was clear.” A few moths fluttered out of the box. Shane grabbed one and pulled it up to his mouth. “But is it?”
We all waited for a reply. The moth said nothing.
Shane let the moth go and then turned to me. “Let’s think this through. You were called here, as if this place were in danger. But then, when you got here, you were told that you were not needed and that Tikoloshe was here.”
“I’m following so far,” said Ben. “Except for the Tikoloshe part. Is he the Director?”
“I don’t think he can be,” I said. “Or I’d be able to leave this place.”
“Unless he’s such a bad Director, your pendant wants you to take over,” said Gordon.
“Like he was their Director and then he went bad or something like that?” Ben asked.
“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe Tikoloshe ate the Director, and is now in charge of the monsters, but the pendant called me here because the facility still needs a Director, even though nobody here wants one.”
“Okay,” said Shane. “So I think the first thing we’re looking for is some scoop on Tikoloshe. That might help us figure out if he’s the Director, and if not, we can keep digging from there. Plus, I think he may have something to do with our zit plague.”
“You make it sound so easy,” I said. “But how do we start?”
“Well, none of the other monsters trust or even care about us,” said Shane, “but I bet you Betty might have some tasty gossip she’d be willing to share now that Clarice has slapped the crazy out of her.”
Shane rushed out of the room and down the hall.
Ben and Gordon quickly followed.
“Wait!” I said. “I know someone has to stay with Nabila, but why does it have to be me?”
Roy ambled past the room. I jumped out and grabbed him.
“EEEEEK!” he screeched. “Are you trying to frighten me to death?”
“Are you trying to wake up Nabila?” I asked. “She’s in there sleeping, and I need you to guard her while I go investigate something.”
“What sort of bed is it?” Roy asked, shuddering.
“It’s not a tarantula bed,” I said. I shoved Roy into the room. “It’s a regular old bed. Now get in there and keep an eye on her.”
Stop, That Tickles!
By the time I found my way to Betty’s room, Shane was already busy grilling her.
“You really can’t remember anything about how Tikoloshe got here?” Shane asked.
“I’m telling you the truth,” Betty said, “I can barely remember anything about him. I just have a warm fuzzy feeling about Mr. Tikoloshe. I mean, had a warm fuzzy feeling about him.”
“What else?” I asked. “Can you remember anything? There has to be someone who knew about Tikoloshe before he came here. Maybe we could find a diary or something?”
“Paper?” scoffed Betty. “We’re all-electronic around here.”
She sipped her frog-water tea.
“All-electronic?” I scoffed back. “Really? Then what technology are you old farts using?”
“Hmmm, let me think,” said Betty. She scratched her hairy chin. “I know a number of residents are on Twitter. I think I remember Rangda bragging that her handle was @tikoloshefan. It kind of makes me jealous, since I love Tikoloshe. I mean loved, of course. In any case, you can start with Rangda’s account.”
“@tikoloshefan?” Gordon asked Shane. “Rangda has an account called @tikoloshefan? So weird.”
“I think a more important question is, how are you all able to charge your cell phones?” said Shane. “I could use some juice. I’d love to catch up with my friends.”
“We’re all here,” said Gordon.
“Oh, right,” said Shane.
“I wonder what Rangda was tweeting about,” I said. “It’s too bad we didn’t find a phone in her room.”
“Any phone with Twitter will do,” said Ben. “It doesn’t have to be hers.”
“I don’t actually have a smartphone,” said Betty. “My cell phone’s from the very early aughts. But I think Gilberto, the Brazilian zombie, always leaves his phone at home when he’s out. See if you can find it in his room. It’s the one with the largest tarantula bed.”
“Of course it is,” said Gordon.
We ran down the hall and found Gilberto’s room.
A king-size antique claw-foot tub in the center of the room overflowed with tarantulas. Some of them crawled slowly back up the porcelain sides to join their friends. Some skittered past us and out of the door.
“I can’t imagine how that’s comfortable,” said Gordon. “If they were all dead, maybe.”
“Mmmmm,” said Ben. “Rotten spider bed.”
“I bet the best part is snuggling into all of their fuzz and being wrapped in their warmth,” said Shane. He started to crawl into the tub.
“You can nap later if you really want to,” I said. “First, let’s find Gilberto’s cell phone.”
Shane opened all of the bureau drawers. “Nothing.”
Gordon rummaged through a small desk. “No smartphone here,” he said.
Ben quickly peered under the tub, avoiding the spiders that dangled off the edge. “Nothing here.”
“Let me go tell the others what we know so far,” I said. “Keep looking in here. I’ll be right back.”
I walked down the hallway and didn’t get that far before I heard giggling in a nearby room. I turned to have a peek and saw Twenty-Three, Gil, Grigore, Clarice, and Betty in a high cave. A strange glow came down from a hole in the ceiling.
“Did you find a clue?” I asked. “Something to do with the Director?”
“The moon is so beautiful,” said Twenty-Three. “Wow, I lived on such a beautiful thing. Thank you for showing us.”
They all stared up, but their eyes were glazed over.
“Guys, are you talking with someone?” I asked.
None of them answered, so I looked up with them. A small shadowy figure was peering down through the large hole. I couldn’t tell what it was because the moon was so bright.
“Who is that?” I yelled up, and with the wave of a hand, the shadowy figure disappeared.
My face tightened and felt funny. I reached up and felt a bump on my nose. Two bumps on my forehead. A few more on my cheeks.
I turned to my friends, who were still staring up at the moon.
“Guys?” I asked.
They kept staring.
“GUYS, look at me!” I said. “Can you tell me if I have zits on my face? It feels so weird.”
They all finally lowered their heads and looked at me. “Oh, I didn’t see you there,” said Gil. “Hi, Chris. Isn’t the moon beautiful?”
“I’ve been standing here for, like, two minutes,” I said to Gil.
They all stared at me.
“Okay, so tell me what you see,” I said.
They kept staring at me.
“Guys, stop it, you’re freaking me out,” I said.
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