Missing

by R. L. Stine

  The bed was made. Her stuffed-animal collection was lined up along the wall over the bed. Her backpack was hung over the back of her desk chair. Her desk was totally neat, some papers and pencils stacked up in a corner. The carpet looked as if it had just been vacuumed that day. You know the way rugs stand up after they’ve been vacuumed. The only footprints I could see in the rug were mine.

  I crept over to the closet door, which had hundreds of photos taped to it from top to bottom. There were snapshots of Gena and her dad; of her mother, who lived outside Detroit; snapshots of people I didn’t recognize; and lots of photos of her favorite movie stars cut out of magazines. I was pleased to see that the photo I had given her, my class photo from last year, was taped up right above the doorknob, right between Dennis Quaid and Tom Cruise.

  Suddenly feeling tired, I sat down on the edge of her bed, careful not to rest my bleeding hand on the white bedspread. Where was she? If she wasn’t here, why was the light on?

  It’s pretty late. She’ll probably be up soon, I told myself. I decided I’d just wait for her.

  But I quickly decided that was stupid. I couldn’t just sit there. For one thing, I had to do something to stop my hand from bleeding.

  I got up and walked over to her dresser. I pulled open the top drawer. It was filled with underwear and socks and stuff. I pulled out a long, white wool knee sock and wrapped it around and around my hand. Gena won’t mind, I thought.

  But where was she?

  When she’d called she sounded so upset, so completely freaked. She couldn’t be sitting downstairs watching TV with her dad now.

  Holding the sock tightly around my hand, I walked back over to the closet door and pulled it open. It was the neatest closet I’d ever seen. All of her clothes were hung up. Her sweaters were folded neatly on the top shelf. I had no idea she was such a neat freak.

  I closed the closet and was heading back toward the bed when something caught my eye. There was something shiny down on the rug at the foot of the bed.

  I kicked it out from under the bed with the toe of my sneaker, then bent down to pick it up. I carried it over to the lamp on the dresser and examined it.

  I couldn’t believe it. It was a carved white monkey head.

  It was identical to the others. The rhinestone eyes sparkled and seemed to peer out at me. The monkey’s mouth was pulled back in an eerie grin.

  What was this thing? And why was it popping up everywhere I went?

  Suddenly I had a chilling thought. Was this the same monkey head?

  Had it somehow followed me?

  I remembered waking up and finding the monkey head beside my bed when I had no memory of carrying it to my room. Was I holding the same monkey head now, staring into the same blank, glowing eyes?

  Don’t be a dork, Mark. You’ve been watching too many old Twilight Zones.

  I didn’t have any more time to think about it. I heard footsteps in the hall. They were approaching quickly.

  I tucked the monkey head into my jeans pocket and looked around for a place to hide. But there wasn’t any.

  The footsteps were right outside the bedroom door.

  “Gena?” I whispered happily.

  And her father stepped into the room.

  My eyes dropped from his startled face to the small, silver pistol in his hand.

  CHAPTER 18

  “Mark!” he cried. He tossed the pistol onto the bed. “I could’ve shot you! I—I thought you were a burglar!”

  “Sorry.” The word choked in my throat.

  Dr. Rawlings was a big man—so big he blocked the entire doorway. He was dressed in a gray-and-white running suit. It must have been the biggest size they made! He had black hair like Gena’s, only it had thinned back, giving him a high forehead above his bushy black eyebrows.

  He was very muscular, too. Big biceps. He looked as if he worked out. I’d never noticed that till now, as I stared back at him, watching the look on his face change from anger to confusion.

  I’m in trouble now, I thought. But how much trouble?

  He took a couple of steps toward me. For an instant, I thought he was going to fight me. It’s crazy the things you think when you’re in total panic.

  Then I realized he was staring at the white sock wrapped around my hand. Blood had soaked through in several places. It looked really gross. I lowered my hand to my side.

  “Mark… I feel so bad,” he said. “The gun. Good heavens! You should have told me you were here.”

  “Dr. Rawlings, I—” I just stopped. I didn’t know what to say. I mean, what can you say? “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I wanted to talk to Gena, and—”

  “What happened to your hand?” he asked. He had a very deep voice. It was usually booming. He talked very loudly and shouted a lot, not from anger but from enthusiasm. But now he was talking so softly, I could barely hear him. He was really freaked that he’d almost shot me.

  I reluctantly held up my injured hand. “I cut it,” I said. “Listen, I want to explain. I—”

  “You came to see Gena?” Dr. Rawlings sat down heavily on her bed. The mattress was soft and sagged nearly to the floor under his weight. He picked up the pistol, then put it down again.

  “Well, yeah. She called and—”

  He shifted his weight on the bed. “Gena’s very upset, Mark,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “I told you that when you were here earlier.”

  “I know. I’m upset, too,” I said. That was the truth, for sure.

  “Ah, young love,” Dr. Rawlings sighed, and shook his head. He stood up quickly. He moved like a much lighter man. “Sorry, Mark. I don’t mean to be facetious. I know this is serious for you and Gena. But even so, you shouldn’t have sneaked in.”

  “I know. I’m really sorry. Uh… where is Gena, anyway?” I asked, pulling the sock tighter around my aching hand.

  “She went to her cousin’s. She was so upset, she thought it might be a good idea to go away.”

  “Her cousin’s? The one upstate?”

  He nodded.

  “She went without her book bag?” It just happened to catch my eye. I was so confused at this point, I don’t think I really knew what I was saying.

  Dr. Rawlings chuckled. “I told you she was very upset. I don’t think her book bag was the first thing on her mind.” He walked over and put a big, beefy hand on my shoulder. “Want me to take a look at that hand? I am a doctor, after all.”

  I pulled the hand away. “No. No, thanks. It’s not really serious. I’ll bandage it up when I get home.” I suddenly just wanted to get out of there, to get home and think this all through.

  I looked to the window. It was still wide open. Mr. Rawlings was looking at it, too. Now he knew how I got inside. If he didn’t know already.

  I felt really embarrassed. I had broken into his house and he was being so nice about it.

  “Come on downstairs and go out the door this time,” he said, guiding me to the bedroom door with his hand on my shoulder.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have—”

  He squeezed my shoulder, probably a little harder than he realized. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. I understand these things. I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry about you and Gena. She’s very unpredictable sometimes. I hope I didn’t frighten you with that gun.”

  “You’re not going to tell my parents or anything?”

  My parents. I had forgotten about them. And about Cara. What time was it? She had probably gotten back a while ago—and I hadn’t left her a note!

  “No. Not this time,” he said, leading the way down the stairs. Then he added, “I’m looking forward to meeting your parents sometime.”

  I apologized again to Dr. Rawlings and stepped out into the cold. “Take care, Mark,” he said softly. He reached out, took my hand, and shook it.

  “Thank you,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say. I felt really awkward.

  I turned and walked quickly down the drive. My hand throbb
ed. The white sock was soaked with blood. This time, I decided, I would definitely take the front way home!

  CHAPTER 19

  Who had pulled up the drive? I tore across the living room, took a deep breath, and pulled open the front door. “Oh.”

  “Thanks a lot, Cara. Some greeting,” Lisa Blume said.

  “Sorry,” I said quickly, still unable to hide my disappointment.

  “Who were you expecting? Tom Cruise?” Lisa asked, giving me her customary half-sneer as she stepped into the front hallway.

  “No. It’s just that—well… come in,” I said. “I’m really glad to see you.”

  “Yeah. I can tell,” she said sarcastically. “Listen, I thought maybe we could go over our history notes together. But if this is a bad time…”

  “It’s a bad time,” I said, deciding to tell Lisa what was going on. “But I’m glad you’re here, anyway.” I led her into the den. She plopped down on the couch and tossed her backpack on the floor.

  We’re a strange pair of friends, I thought, watching her lean down to open her backpack and pull out a notebook. We look like two different species. I’m so blond and immature looking, and she has that great, curly black hair and that sly, knowing smile. She looks a lot like Cher, I thought. I really was glad she had stopped by. I needed the company, and she was always funny and sarcastic—just what I needed to take my mind off everything.

  “What’s with your brother and Gena Rawlings?” Lisa asked, rolling her big, dark eyes. “I couldn’t believe them in your living room last night. They didn’t even take a breath!”

  “Well, you’re not going to believe this, either,” I said. “She broke up with him tonight.”

  Lisa’s mouth froze in an O of surprise. “Huh?” she finally managed to say. “Run that by me again, Cara.”

  “You heard me. She broke up with him.”

  “But… why?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Mark is in bad shape,” I said. “Don’t tell him I told you. He went running over there. At least, that’s where I think he is.”

  Lisa pulled at one of her long, black curls. “Weird. Just plain weird.”

  “Yeah, I know. Mark didn’t have a clue.”

  “Weird,” Lisa repeated. She sat there for a while, staring at me thoughtfully. Then she said, “Was Mark chewing gum that night?”

  “You mean at the party?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, how would I know? What on earth are you talking about, Lisa?”

  “Well, I was just thinking about this girl I used to know. Her name was Shana and she went with a guy named Rick for a short time. And I don’t know what made me think of it, but I just remembered that Shana told me about this time she was making out with Rick, and Rick was chewing gum, only Shana didn’t know it, and somehow the gum ended up in Shana’s mouth.”

  “Yuck.”

  “Yeah. That’s what Shana thought. So she broke up with him and never said another word to him.”

  “Great story, Lisa,” I said, picking up her sarcasm the way anyone did after being around her for a few minutes.

  “Well, that’s why I was wondering if Mark was chewing gum,” Lisa said.

  “I’ve got bigger problems than Mark’s love life,” I said, sighing.

  “Yeah. You’ve got your own love life!” Lisa cracked.

  “No, I’m serious,” I said.

  “So am I.”

  “My parents are missing,” I blurted out.

  Lisa didn’t react at all. “Go ahead. Next tell me you’re growing a second head,” she said, staring at me. “I’ll believe that, too.”

  “No. Really, Lisa.”

  I think she saw by the look on my face that I wasn’t kidding. She propped her head up with one hand and stared at me. “They’re missing? You mean they didn’t come home tonight?”

  “Or last night.”

  “They didn’t call?”

  I shook my head.

  Suddenly all of the humor left Lisa’s face. It was as if a mask had been pulled away and her serious, real face was revealed for the first time. “Did you call the police?”

  “Yes. Captain Farraday.”

  “But he hasn’t found them?”

  I shook my head. I suddenly felt sick. I had thought that telling Lisa what was happening would make me feel better, but instead, saying it all aloud was making me feel more afraid.

  “Do you want to come stay at my place?” Lisa asked. She looked really upset, too.

  “No, thanks,” I told her. “Mark is—”

  “He could come, too. There’s plenty of room. Really.”

  This was so nice of her. I’d only known Lisa for a short while, after all. It wasn’t like we were lifelong buddies or anything.

  I thanked her again and told her I thought Mark and I would be more comfortable waiting here. Where was Mark, anyway? I looked at my watch. It was getting late. I wondered if he’d made up with Gena. If so, he might not be home for quite a while.

  I heard a car outside and started to get up. But it drove past without slowing down. Chill out, Cara, I scolded myself. You can’t start jumping out of your chair every time a car drives by.

  Lisa was looking more upset than me. “They’ve done this before,” I told her, trying to get the grim look off her face.

  “Really? They’ve left for two days without calling?”

  “No, not without calling.” I stood up. “I’ll get my history notes. Let’s try to study.”

  She looked very uncomfortable. “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Be good to take my mind off things. Stop me from staring at the clock all night.”

  She followed me into the living room, where I’d left my backpack. “You know, I think Gary Brandt likes you,” she said.

  “Huh?”

  “Yeah. That’s what I heard.”

  “From who?” I asked. I found my notebook and pulled it out of the bag. Papers fell all over the rug, but I didn’t bother to stuff them back in.

  “He told a friend of mine that he’d like to go out with you. He’s a fox, don’t you think?”

  “Gary?”

  “Yeah. Gary.”

  “He’s okay.” For some reason I didn’t want to reveal how pleased I was by this news. Gary was a pretty neat guy. “Maybe if my parents don’t come back, we’ll have another party,” I cracked.

  Lisa laughed, but it was a halfhearted laugh.

  “Not funny, huh?” I squeezed past her and headed back to the den. “Just trying to keep it light.”

  “If—if my parents just disappeared, I’d freak!” Lisa said.

  “I’ll probably freak after they come back,” I told her, plopping down on the leather couch. If they come back, I added to myself, and shuddered.

  What if I’m an orphan? I thought. What if I’m already an orphan and just don’t know it yet?

  Who would Mark and I go to live with? Aunt Dorothy? No. She was much too old. Grandma Edna? No. She was too old, too. And she couldn’t stand us.

  Do teenagers have to go live in an orphanage? I wondered.

  “What are you thinking?” Lisa asked.

  “Just stupid thoughts,” I replied, forcing a smile.

  We tried going over our history notes for a while, but I was too distracted to think clearly. I kept looking up at the clock, wondering why Mark wasn’t back, and jumping up from the couch every time a car drove past.

  Finally, we decided that studying just wasn’t in the cards. We talked a little more about kids at school. Then Lisa left, telling me again that Mark and I could come stay at her house, and asking me to call as soon as I heard any news.

  I felt pretty good for a while after she’d left. I’d made a real friend.

  I looked at the clock. It was past eleven. Where was Mark?

  I sat down in the living room. What a drab, disgusting room. I got up and started to pace. I walked into the den and gathered up my history notes. I shoved them into my notebook. I started to the kitchen to get another soda—and sto
pped halfway across the living room.

  Roger’s gun.

  How could I have forgotten my plan? I was going to go upstairs and take it out of his desk and hide it somewhere. I wanted Roger out of our house. But I knew that might take some doing. In the meantime, I didn’t want him to have a loaded pistol.

  I ran up the stairs and stopped at the landing under the attic. “Roger—are you up there?”

  He’s always so quiet, he could’ve come in while Lisa and I were talking. There was no reply. I called again, and again no reply.

  So I climbed the narrow stairs and let myself into his room.

  I fumbled around until I found the switch on his desk lamp, and clicked it on. The room was empty. Roger had tossed a shirt and a pair of chinos on the cot. Everything else looked the same.

  I bent down quickly and pulled out the bottom desk drawer.

  A creak.

  Was that a footstep? Was that Roger returning?

  I stopped and listened. Another creak. It was just this stupid old house making noises.

  Still listening for any sounds outside the tiny room, I lifted out the underwear from the bottom drawer. Then I reached for the small pistol.

  My hand couldn’t find it, so I leaned over and looked into the drawer.

  Then I let out a little gasp as I realized the pistol was gone.

  CHAPTER 20

  Thursday went by in a blur. Mark and I were too tired and too lost in our own thoughts to say hardly anything over breakfast. Somehow we got ourselves to school. My body was there, but my mind was in a million other places.

  After school, we drove home together. Mark glumly told me about what had happened to him in the woods, about the trap near the clearing and the dog that had been trained to attack silently.

  “I—I killed it, I think,” Mark said. I could see that he was still badly shaken. Then he told me about Gena’s dad, how he had almost shot Mark.

  As we drove, I told Mark about Roger and Murdoch at the coffee shop, and about the gun being missing from Roger’s drawer.

  “We’ve got to tell Farraday about Roger,” Mark said, pulling up the drive. “After last night, Roger knows that we’re suspicious of him. That could make him even more dangerous.”