by R. L. Stine
Panting hard, I raced forward.
My father called, “Good-bye, hon! Tell the kids I’ll see them tonight!” over his shoulder and let go of the door.
I darted into the house. The door slammed hard. Another near miss.
I hummed with happiness. It felt so good to be back in my own house and out of that dark, sticky hive! I landed on the counter and gazed around at the old, familiar walls.
Why hadn’t I ever realized how nice my house was before?
Step, step, step.
Someone was coming into the kitchen! I flew up onto the windowsill for a better look.
Krissy!
Maybe I could get her to listen to me.
“Krissy! Krissy!” I buzzed. “Over here by the window. It’s me, Gary!”
To my delight, she turned and stared in my direction.
“Yes!” I cried excitedly. “Yes—it’s me! It’s me!”
“Oh, terrific,” Krissy groaned. “One of Andretti’s dumb bees got in here again.”
Okay, so it wasn’t exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for. But she’d still noticed me! Maybe, I thought, if I flew right onto her shoulder and spoke into her ear, she’d be able to understand me!
My heart vibrating my entire body, I lifted myself up off the windowsill and soared toward my sister. “Krissy!” I buzzed as I approached her shoulder. “You have to listen to me!”
“Aaaaiii!”
Krissy screeched so loud, I was afraid the glass in the windows would shatter. “Get away from me, bee!”
She started thrashing her hands in the air, trying to bat me away.
“Ow!” I cried out as she slapped me. Stung with pain, I lost control and landed with a thud on the tiled countertop.
I raised my eyes in time to see Krissy grab a flyswatter from out of the broom closet.
“No, Krissy, no!” I screamed. “Not that! You don’t want to do that to your own brother!”
My sister lifted up the flyswatter and thwacked it down right next to me. I could feel the rush of air from it. And I felt the entire counter shake.
I screamed and quickly rolled to one side.
Krissy, I knew, was a menace with a flyswatter.
She was the champion in our family. She never missed.
The eyes on top of my head spun in terror. And in the gray blur, I could see the shape of the flyswatter, rising up to slap me again. And again.
18
“Stop, Krissy!” I screamed. “Stop! You’re squashing me!”
With a strangled gasp, I toppled off the counter. I hit the floor hard and struggled dizzily to my feet.
Now I started to get angry. Why did Krissy have to be so bloodthirsty? Couldn’t she just open a window and shoo me out?
Buzzing weakly, I floated up off the floor. Regaining my strength, I began darting wildly around the room, crashing into the walls and cupboards to show Krissy how upset I was. Then I shot out of the kitchen.
In a rage, I headed up the stairs to my room. If my sister wouldn’t help me, I’d get someone else to help. Namely, the new Gary!
The morning sun was high in the sky. But “Gary” was still sound asleep in my bed.
Seeing him lying there so peacefully, so completely at home, made me even angrier.
“Wake up, you slug!” I buzzed at him. He didn’t move. His mouth hung open as he slept, making him look like a real jerk.
“Yuck! What a creep!” I was sure my mouth never hung open when I slept!
I decided to take action. I landed on “Gary’s” head and started walking around on his face. I was sure my little insect legs would tickle him and wake him up.
Nothing. He didn’t move.
Even when I stuck a leg up his nose, “Gary” slept without stirring.
“Why is he so wrecked?” I wondered. “Has he been wearing out my body?”
Furious, I ran across “Gary’s” face and climbed down through his hair. Then I crawled onto his ear. “BUZZ!” I shouted as loudly as I could. “BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!”
Incredible as it seems, the new “Gary” didn’t even budge.
Just my luck. Dirk Davis was turning out to be the world’s soundest sleeper!
I sighed and gave up. I crawled off “Gary’s” ear and flew around my old room, gazing down at my bed, my dresser, and my computer.
“My computer!” I cried excitedly. “Maybe I can put a message on the screen! Maybe I can tell my parents what has happened to me!”
I swooped down to the computer, buzzing eagerly.
Yes! The computer had been left on.
What luck! I knew I wasn’t heavy enough to push the Power button.
Would I be strong enough to type?
A clear blue screen greeted me on the monitor. My heart pounding, I lowered myself to the keyboard and started hopping around on the letters.
Yes! I was heavy enough to make the keys go up and down.
I paused, resting on the Enter key.
What should I type? What message should I put on the screen?
What? What? What?
As I frantically thought, I heard “Gary” stir behind me on the bed. He let out a groan. He was waking up.
Quick! I told myself. Type something! Type anything!
He’ll see it as soon as he gets out of bed.
I hopped over to the letters and began to jump up and down, spelling out my desperate message.
It was hard work. My bee eyes weren’t made for reading letters. And I kept leaping up and falling in the cracks between the keys.
After eight or nine jumps, I was gasping for air.
But I finished my message just as “Gary” sat up in bed and stretched.
Floating up in front of the monitor, I struggled to read what I had typed:
I AM NOT BEE. I AM GARY. HELO ME.
Through my blurred vision, I saw that I missed the P in HELP and hit the O instead. I wanted to go back and fix it. But I was totally wiped out. I could barely buzz.
Would they understand?
Would they read the message and see me standing on top of the monitor and understand?
“Gary” would understand. I knew he would. Dirk Davis would figure it out.
I climbed wearily to the top of the monitor and watched him climb out of bed.
Here he comes, I saw eagerly. He brushed his hair out of his eyes. He yawned. He stretched again.
Over here! I urged.
Dirk—please—check out the computer monitor!
Dirk—over here!
He picked up a crumpled pair of jeans off the floor and pulled them on. Then he found a wrinkled T-shirt to go with it.
Come on, Dirk! I pleaded, hopping up and down on top of the monitor. Read the screen—please?
19
Would he read it?
Yes! Rubbing his eyes, “Gary” shuffled over to the computer.
Yes! Yes!
I nearly burst for joy as I watched him squint at the screen. “Go ahead, Gary! Read it! Read it!” I squeaked.
He squinted at the screen some more, frowning. “Did I leave that thing on overnight?” he muttered, shaking his head. “Wow. I must be losing it.”
He reached down and clicked off the power. Then he turned and made his way out of the room.
Stunned, I toppled off the monitor, landing hard on the desk beside the keyboard. All that work for nothing.
What was “Gary’s” problem, anyway? Doesn’t he know how to read?
I’ve got to talk to him, I told myself, pulling myself together. I’ve got to communicate with him somehow.
I lifted my wings and floated up after him. I followed him through the kitchen, and then slipped through the back door with him.
As he strode across the grass, I started buzzing around his head. But he didn’t pay any attention to me.
He crossed the yard and opened our garage door. Then he went inside and brought out my old skateboard.
I hadn’t used that skateboard in at least two years. My uncle had given it to
me for my tenth birthday, and I almost broke my leg trying to ride it. After that, I put it away and refused to touch it again.
“Don’t get on that thing!” I yelled at “Gary”. “It’s dangerous. You might hurt my body. And I want it back in one piece!”
Of course “Gary” didn’t even notice me. Instead, he carried the skateboard out in front of the house and put it down on the ground.
A short while later, Kaitlyn and Judy walked up the sidewalk. I waited for them to start giggling and making fun of the new me.
“Hi, Gary,” Kaitlyn said. She brushed some curly hair off her forehead and smiled. “Are we late for our skateboarding lesson?”
“Gary” flashed her a big smile. “No way, Kaitlyn,” he answered in my voice. “Want to head over to the playground like we did yesterday?”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Skateboarding lesson? Head over to the playground like we did yesterday? What was going on around here?
“I hope you don’t mind, Gary,” Judy said. “We told some of the other kids—like Gail and Louie—how good you are. They all said they can’t wait to take a lesson from you, too. Is that okay? Because if it isn’t, we can call them, and—”
“No problem, Jude,” “Gary” broke in. “Let’s get going, okay?” The new “me” hopped onto his skateboard and smoothly rolled his way down the sidewalk. Judy and Kaitlyn hurried after him.
For a second, I was too shocked to move. But then I decided to follow them.
As I swooped after them, I kept muttering to myself, “I can’t believe it! Lutz the Klutz is giving skateboard lessons at the playground? Everybody’s waiting for him to show up? What is going on?”
A few minutes later, the four of us had reached the playground. Sure enough, a whole gang of kids was waiting there for “Gary”. He put down his skateboard and started giving everybody pointers on “boarding”, as he called it.
I buzzed over to him and started shouting in his ear again. “Dirk!” I shouted. “Dirk Davis! It’s me. The real Gary Lutz!”
Very casually, he swatted me away.
I tried to speak to him again. This time he swatted me really hard, sending me spinning to the ground.
Trying to shake off the pain, I gave up. Dirk isn’t going to help me, I realized.
Ms. Karmen is my only hope. After all, she was the one with all the equipment. She was the only person who could reverse what she had done.
I flew onto a tree and tried to figure out which way to fly. When you’re an insect, everything looks different to you. Things that seem small to a person appear huge to a bee. So I wanted to be sure I didn’t get myself mixed up and fly off in the wrong direction.
Standing on a big leaf, I gazed up and down the block until I was sure I knew which way to go. As I got ready to take off, a large shadow suddenly loomed over my head. At first, I thought it was a small bird. But then I realized it was a dragonfly.
“Stay calm,” I told myself. “A dragonfly is an insect, isn’t it? And insects don’t eat each other, right?”
I guess no one had told the dragonfly.
Before I could move, it zoomed down, wrapped its teeth around my middle, and bit me in two.
20
I uttered a last gasp and waited for everything to go dark.
It took me a few seconds to realize that the dragonfly had turned and buzzed off in the other direction.
My imagination was running away with me. That’s what always happened when I got overtired.
I took a deep breath, grateful to still be in one piece. I decided I had to use my remaining strength to get to Ms. Karmen at the Person-to-Person Vacations office.
I rose up into the air, looked both ways for oncoming dragonfly traffic, then fluttered away.
After a long, tiring trip, I floated past a street sign that told me I’d made it to the right block. Roach Street.
I buzzed along the sidewalk until I came to the Person-to-Person building. Then I sat down on the stoop and tried to figure out how I was going to get inside.
Luckily, as I rested on the warm cement, I saw a mailman marching up the street, stopping at each house along his route. Quickly, I flew over to the Person-to-Person entrance and checked it out. Just as I’d hoped, there was a mail slot in the middle of the door.
I buzzed over to the doorknob, and waited for my chance. Slowly, the mailman trudged up to the building.
“Hurry up!” I screamed at him. “Do you think I have all day here?” Of course he couldn’t hear me.
He fumbled around in his bag and pulled out a bundle of letters. Then, slowly, he reached out and pushed open the mail slot.
Before the mailman had a chance to react, I swooped down in front of his nose and buzzed right through the mail slot. As I zipped along, I heard him gasp, and I knew he’d seen me. But for once, luck was with me. I moved so quickly, there hadn’t been any time for the mailman to try to swat me.
My luck held when I flew up the stairs.
I’d just reached the top when the door to Person-to-Person Vacations opened, and a girl about my age came out. She had long, curly red hair and had a serious, thoughtful expression on her face. Was she thinking of trading places with someone?
“Go home!” I shouted at her. “And don’t come back. Stay away from this place! Just look what happened to me!”
Even though I was screaming, the girl didn’t even turn her head. But she left the door open just long enough for me to buzz into the Person-to-Person office.
I flew across the waiting room and saw Ms. Karmen, sitting in the same chair she’d been in when I first met her.
I shot right toward her—and smacked into something hard.
Pain roared through my body. I dropped to the floor, dizzy and confused.
As my head began to clear, I remembered the glass wall separating Ms. Karmen from the waiting area. Like some kind of brainless June bug, I’d crashed right into it!
I shook myself to clear my mind. “Ms. Karmen!” I yelled. “Ms. Karmen. It’s me—Gary Lutz. Look what happened! Can you help me? Can you?”
21
Ms. Karmen didn’t even glance up from her paperwork. Once again, I realized no one could hear my squeaky insect voice.
With a defeated moan, I sank down onto the seat of the chair and curled up into a tiny ball. I’d come all this way for nothing, I realized. I’d found the one person in the world who might be able to help me. And she couldn’t even hear me!
“I give up,” I whispered sadly. “It’s hopeless. I have to get used to the idea of being a bee forever! There’s no way I’ll ever get my old body back.”
I had never been so miserable in all my life. I wished someone would come along, drop into the chair, and sit on me!
A strange sound startled me from my unhappy thoughts. I sat up straight and listened hard.
“Whoo-ah. Whoo-ah.” It almost sounded like someone breathing. But how could that be? It was so loud!
I floated up off the chair and buzzed around the room, trying to find out where the sound was coming from. I had circled the room twice before I figured it out.
Ms. Karmen was bending over to pick up something she’d dropped on the floor. Her nose and mouth were only inches from the top of her desk. And the microphone she used to talk to people had picked up the sounds of her breathing!
Suddenly, I had a brilliant idea. If I could get to the other side of the glass, I could use the microphone to make Ms. Karmen hear me.
I swooped over to the wall and flew straight up to the ceiling. No luck there. The sheet of glass went all the way up. There was no space for me to wedge myself through to the other side.
I buzzed down to the place where the glass met the top of Ms. Karmen’s desk. Yes! There was a small slot in the glass. I remembered how she had passed through the book of photographs on my first visit to the office.
The slot wasn’t very large. But it was plenty big enough for my round little bee body.
I shot through the hole and jumped up on to
p of the microphone.
“Ms. Karmen!” I shouted, putting my mouth next to the hard metal. “Ms. Karmen!”
Her eyes opened wide. Her mouth dropped open in confusion. She stared out into the waiting room, searching for the person speaking.
“It’s Gary Lutz!” I called out. “And I’m down here on your microphone.”
Ms. Karmen stared down at the microphone. Then her eyes narrowed in fear. “What’s going on? Who’s doing this? Is this a joke?”
“No!” I cried. “It’s no joke at all. It’s really me—Gary Lutz!”
“But—but—” she stammered, but no other words came out. “What’s the joke? How are you doing that?”
Her voice was so loud, the sound waves nearly blasted me off the microphone.
“You don’t have to yell!” I cried. “I can hear you.”
“I don’t believe this!” she exclaimed in a trembling voice. She stared down at me.
“It’s all your fault!” I shouted angrily. “You messed up the transfer operation. When you made the switch, one of my neighbor’s bees must have gotten into the machine. So, instead of putting me into Dirk Davis’ body, you put me into a bee!”
Ms. Karmen blinked. Then she slapped her forehead. “Well that explains it!” she cried. “That explains why Dirk Davis’ body has been behaving so strangely.”
She picked up some papers on her desk and started putting them into her briefcase. “I really must apologize,” she said. “I feel really bad, Gary. We’ve never had a mix-up like this before. I hope… I hope it’s at least been interesting for you.”
“Interesting?” I shrieked. “It’s been a nightmare! You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through. I’ve been attacked by screen doors, cats, flyswatters—you name it! You yourself almost ran me over with your car!”
All the color drained from her face. “Oh, no,” she cried, her voice a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I—I didn’t know.”
“Well, what about it?” I asked her impatiently.
“What about what?”
“What about getting me back into my body! Can you do it right away?”