To Megabat, it was an impossible question, but Rusty knew his answer right away. “Easy,” he chimed in from the other side of the room. “Give up buttermelon, whatever that is.”
“He means watermelon,” Daniel explained.
“Still,” Irwin agreed, “I’d take Wookiees over watermelon any day.”
After that, everyone had turns asking questions, and Megabat learned a lot about their new friends. For example, Gus would rather have a monkey’s face than a pig’s nose. Irwin would rather be a tiny elephant than a giant mouse, and everyone agreed they’d rather cry chocolate syrup than sneeze caramel sauce.
Irwin was the first to yawn.
“Sorry, guys,” he whispered. “I’m falling asleep.”
“I’m beat too,” Gus agreed.
“Good night, Daniel.”
“Night, Irwin.”
“Night, Gus and Rusty.”
“Good night, Megabat.”
“Goodly sleepings,” Megabat answered—but he didn’t fall asleep. In fact, he couldn’t fall asleep. Now that there was no one to keep him company, his big ears were wide open, and there were many strange noises coming from outside. Rustling. Buzzing. The hoot of an owl and then—crack, crack, crack.
This sound was closer than the others. Maybe even right outside the door!
Crack, crack, crack.
“Daniel!” Megabat poked his friend in the forehead.
Daniel groaned and rolled over. “Go to sleep, Megabat.”
The little bat tried rocking himself back and forth. He even imagined a few sheep, but it was no use.
Crack, crack, crack.
Megabat thought the ghost of the pasta was made-up. But that sound…it was so eerie, and exactly like the snapping of twigs that had come at the start of Fiona’s story! Was something coming out of the deep, dark woods toward them?
Then Megabat had a horrible thought: “Mine’s stinkbug!” The boys hadn’t wanted him to bring Whiffy inside. The bug was on the porch in his habitat, all alone. What if he was frightened too?
“Nonething is fearsome when Megabat’s nearsome,” Megabat muttered to himself. Then he tried to say it with more conviction: “Nonething is fearsome when Megabat’s nearsome.” His tiny heart was pounding. His little knees were knocking. Still, Whiffy was counting on him! He pushed the door open and stepped onto the porch.
Crack, crack, crack.
Megabat whirled on the spot.
“Whiffy? Is that yours?” He squinted into the darkness. But there was nothing unusual…just a few pairs of rain boots and Rusty’s butterfly net lying on the cabin’s porch.
Crack, crack, crack.
His eyes followed the sound. Aha! Something was caught in the bottom of the net. It was banging around, trying to get free. Each time it struggled, the metal hoop of the net cracked against the wooden porch.
“Who-who-whose is there?” Megabat asked.
Tut-tut-tut. Eeeeek.
The sound that answered was part click, part squeal. A large beetle, perhaps? A mouse?
The creature shifted, then hissed, revealing sharp white fangs.
A wild bat!
THE WILD BATS
Megabat had seen other bats before. When he lived on a papaya farm in Borneo, he’d had a whole family with brothers and sisters. But this bat looked different. For one thing, she was even smaller than him. For another, her fur was brown where his was gray. And while he had large, saucer-like ears, hers were short and black. She was also extremely cranky.
She hissed again, baring her fangs, but Megabat knew she couldn’t hurt him.
“Greetings, tiny bat,” he said. “Mine can see yours is stuck in that’s flutterby net.”
The smaller bat narrowed her eyes and tried to inch backward.
“Mine won’t hurting yours,” he reassured her. “For fact, mine will be rescuing yours this night. Seeing?” He pointed at the net, which was tangled around her wings. “Yours is a dumbbell in distress.”
The little bat didn’t seem to like that. She hissed even louder than before.
“No, no! Yours is disunderstanding,” Megabat explained. “Dumbbell in distress is not meaning yours is dumb. Its is meaning yours is in need of rescuing by a hero suchly as mine.” He puffed his chest.
The little brown bat grimaced. But there was no way around it; she really was stuck, which was probably why she let Megabat come closer.
“Hmmmm.” He pulled the net this way and that. “Letting mine see. If mine loosenings this bit.” He tugged at some of the slack. “And bite-ings this part in mine mouth.” He took a few big steps back, tugging the string between his teeth. “And then mine just—uh-oh.”
Megabat looked down. One of his feet was tangled in the net. “Well, if mine grabbings that off.” He lay down on his back and curled himself into a ball to reach his foot but snagged one of his wingtips in the process.
The smaller bat shot Megabat a withering look, as if to say, “Who’s the dumbbell now?” Finally, she shook her head in dismay and gave a few short, sharp squeaks that sounded like laughter.
“Oka-hay,” Megabat admitted. He always tried to be a good sport. “Hardy-har-har. Squeakety-squeak-squeak. Mine is alsowise stuck. Its is being joke-worthy. But whats will ours doing now?”
In answer, the smaller bat opened her mouth and began to sing. It was a high-pitched squealing song that carried out into the starry night. To tell the truth, it hurt Megabat’s ears.
“Mine isn’t meaning to be rude,” he said, after a while, “but perhaps ours can make a fun pop-pop-pop sound together insteadly.” He demonstrated. “Or singing another song. Does yours know the one about the Rabbit FouFou?”
But the brown bat didn’t seem to like his popping sound, and she either didn’t know the rabbit song or didn’t want to sing it. She kept right on squealing. Finally, she stopped. Megabat was about to breathe a sigh of relief when she glanced upward. He followed her gaze and gasped.
A dark creature was swooping toward them like something from a nightmare. From wing to wing, it was almost five times Megabat’s size, and when it passed in front of the porch light, it cast an enormous shadow.
“Th-th-that’s is a bogglingly big bat!” Megabat stammered.
The big brown bat locked eyes on the little brown bat. With a terrific flapping it landed on the porch and, with one quick swipe of its razor-sharp claws, tore through the butterfly net and grabbed her in its powerful wings.
“Stop! Stop! Stopping it!” Megabat cried. “Mine demands yours stops smooshing hers!”
But then the big bat did a curious thing. It released the little bat ever-so-slightly and licked her head before pulling her close again.
“Oh. Oh! Mine sees!” Megabat said with relief as the big bat nuzzled the little bat’s fur. “Yours are hugging. Because yours are a baby and mummy bat!”
Suddenly, big bat pushed her baby behind her. She approached Megabat with a series of sniffs, snarls and chirps. Megabat panicked: Did she think he was responsible for capturing her baby in the net? Was she about to suck his blood in revenge? Would Daniel wake up if Megabat cried for help?
Before Megabat could find out, the mother bat’s sharp claws were coming toward him. He shut his eyes and made himself as small as possible inside the net.
There was a ripping, then more chirps. Megabat opened his eyes and jumped back when he saw a large, wet nose in his face. The mother bat was smelling him. Meanwhile, the baby was saying something. Megabat didn’t speak their chirpy language, but his blood hadn’t been sucked, so he guessed she was explaining that he’d tried to help her.
Megabat gave a shaky little bow. “Greetings,” he said. “Mine is Megabat.” The two wild bats tilted their heads in confusion. “And yourses are being?” he prompted.
Megabat flashed them a smile when they still didn’t answer. “Tha
t’s being oka-hay. Mine didn’t have a name until mine’s Daniel gived mine one. Mine will calling yours…” He paused, scratching his head. “Babybat and Batzilla.”
The mother bat opened her mouth and bared her fangs.
Megabat jumped back. “Or mine can calling yours something else if yours prefers.”
The baby tilted her head to see her mother better, then she opened her mouth and showed her fangs too, but the corners of her mouth turned up a little more. Suddenly, Megabat saw what they were trying to do.
“Aha! Yours are learning to make smiles! Like suchly!” He gave them his brightest grin to demonstrate. They both came a little closer to examine his face, then tried again, but without as many teeth. “Muchly improved,” Megabat said.
The mother bat pointed insistently at the floor of the porch with one wingtip.
“Yours wants mine to staying here?”
She nodded, then flew up to the roof of Cabin 8 and disappeared through an impossibly tiny crack. A moment later, she swooped back with something long and dangly in her talons. She dropped it at Megabat’s feet.
“That’s being a critterpillar.”
Megabat had seen the long, fuzzy insects in Daniel’s yard. They were always munching leaves. Batzilla nudged it closer. She wanted him to do something with it, but what?
“Mine could putting it in mine’s bug habitat!” Megabat suggested. He went to get Whiffy’s ice cream container, but when he dropped the wriggling caterpillar in beside the stinkbug, Babybat shrieked at him disapprovingly. She picked out the caterpillar with one foot and mimed putting it into her mouth.
“Yours wants mine to eating it?” Megabat had to supress a shudder.
Babybat and Batzilla flashed him toothy smiles.
Now Megabat understood! They were never going to suck his blood. These were insect-eating bats, and they were giving him a treat.
“For thanking mine?” he guessed. “For yourses new names and for trying to help Babybat?”
They nodded.
Megabat approached the wriggler. He only liked eating fruits he knew. Different foods were hard for him—even when they didn’t squirm. And yet, Babybat and Batzilla were watching him eagerly, like they couldn’t wait to see him enjoy his treat.
Megabat closed his eyes and held his breath. He stuck out his long tongue and touched the caterpillar with the very tip.
“Most scrumptious!” he proclaimed, before turning his back and trying to scrape the fuzzy feeling off his tongue. The two bats seemed disappointed, so Megabat went on. “For fact, so scrumptious, mine must be saving it…to sharing with mine’s friend Daniel.”
That seemed to satisfy them. The mother motioned into the distance with her head.
“Yours must go hunting mores bugses now?” Megabat asked.
Batzilla pointed at Megabat, then into the deep, dark forest filled with strange sounds.
“And yours invites mine to come along?” Megabat asked.
Batzilla nodded.
Megabat gulped.
Babybat was eager to get going. She was already swooping around the porch light, eating moths and smacking her batty lips with glee.
He had to think fast. “Mine’s tummy will be filled with this scrumptious critterpillar.” He faked a big yawn. “And mine is most nappy. Perhapsing tomorrow. Goodly night.”
And then, because Batzilla was watching to make sure he got in safely, Megabat picked up the wiggling caterpillar and carried it with him.
FRAIDY-BAT
It was past midnight when Megabat got to sleep, so he was groggy the next morning when he awoke to Daniel leaping out of bed.
“There’s a bug on my pajamas!” He was hopping around swatting at his leg and shouting.
Finally, it was Irwin who climbed down from his bunk to help. “It’s just a caterpillar.” He lifted it off with his finger.
“Woopsy-doops. That’s being mine’s,” Megabat said with a yawn and a stretch.
At first, Daniel was angry about the bug in his bed, but when Megabat explained about the wild bats he’d met the night before, all four boys gathered on the bed to listen.
“Theirs had pointy-pointy teeth,” Megabat reported. “And the mummy bat was rhinormous.”
“Were you scared?” Daniel asked.
“He wouldn’t be scared of other bats.” Irwin smiled, showing his magnificent braces. “Would you?”
“Of coursing not!” Megabat said.
Besides doing cannonballs off the dock, Irwin had already volunteered to go first for the ropes course that day. Megabat could never admit he’d been afraid to someone like Irwin. And he didn’t want to tell Daniel he was scared either—not after he’d said so many times that there was nothing to be afraid of at camp!
“For fact,” he went on, “mine did rescue Babybat.” Megabat said it casually, like it was no big deal.
Irwin looked impressed by the rest of the story, but maybe that was because Megabat changed a few details here and there and left out the part where he got all tangled up and had to be rescued too. And everyone agreed they’d rather do almost anything than eat a live caterpillar.
“So, I bet you’re going flying with them tonight, right?” Irwin said. “Maybe explore some caves? If there are bats around, they probably gather at Devil’s Mouth. The older campers go hiking there sometimes. People swear it’s haunted—but that’s probably not true.”
Megabat didn’t like strange, dark places…and he certainly didn’t want to go anywhere that might be haunted, but he didn’t want to sound like a fraidy-bat either.
“Ubsolutely!” Megabat boasted. “Ours will visit the deepest, darkest caves in all of Camp Wildwood tonight.”
Thankfully, Megabat didn’t have to think about that for much longer. Vijay told them to get dressed for waffles. Then, after breakfast, they were off to shoot arrows at the archery range, climb the ropes course, paddle canoes and tie-dye T-shirts.
The day passed in a blur, and before Megabat knew it, the sun was setting.
“I wonder what ghost story they’ll tell tonight,” Rusty said.
“Probably the ghost of the tune-ahhh,” Daniel joked. “Because we had tuna casserole for dinner.” The boys groaned. “You coming, Megabat?” He held out his hand, but the little bat shook his head. He hadn’t liked the last ghost story, and he didn’t want to hear another.
“He’s going to explore the caves with the wild bats, remember?” Irwin said.
Megabat gulped, but he nodded.
As soon as the boys left, he settled in to read the rest of Irwin’s Diamond Foot book. He hoped the wild bats would forget about him. But just as he reached the part where Diamond Foot kicks his way into a secret underground vault filled with rubies (nearly falling into the five-headed lizard’s tricky trap), there was a knock at the window. Babybat’s fang-filled face appeared, pressed against the glass. She waved with one wingtip for him to come outside.
“Greetings, Babybat,” he said from the doorway. “Where is yours’s mummy?”
She motioned into the distance. Megabat could just make out the silhouette of a large bat. “Is hers gone hunting?”
Babybat nodded.
“Mine was just reading a most adventuresome story. Would yours like to read togethers?”
But Babybat didn’t seem interested in books. She loop-de-looped dangerously around some trees and came skidding in for a landing on the porch.
“Yours wants to fly swoopily through the dark forest?” Megabat asked.
She tugged on his wing.
“And yours wants mine to coming alsowise?”
She grinned.
An owl hooted. The tree branches shifted in the wind. Somewhere on the lake, a loon gave an eerie call that made Megabat shiver.
“Perhapsing another time. Mine gots a muchly funner idea,” he said. “Coming this way
.”
Megabat flew past the cabins and the dining hall.
“This is being the craft room,” he said, as he landed on a table with Babybat close behind. She sniffed some supplies: paint, glitter-glue, Scotch tape. Suddenly, she reared up, flared her wings, pounced on a pipe cleaner and tore at it with her fangs.
“No, no, Babybat.” Megabat pulled it from her mouth. “That’s not being a critterpillar. Yours can’t eating that.”
Babybat stuck out her bottom lip in a pout—but soon she spotted a jar of bright beads. She flew across the room.
“Stopping that, Babybat!” Megabat hollered, but it was too late. She’d buried her face in the jar and was tossing beads up in the air one by one, batting them with her wingtip. One pinged against the light fixture and a few more bounced off the window.
Megabat glowered at her. He pointed to a box filled with pom-poms. “Playing with these while yours waits,” he ordered. She couldn’t hurt herself or break anything in there. “Mine will be right back with some sumplies.”
Megabat had hidden in Daniel’s pocket all afternoon, watching through the buttonhole. He knew what they needed for the craft he had in mind, and he made quick work of flying around the camp, gathering the things and dragging them back.
By then, Babybat had abandoned the pom-poms and was eyeing the scissors dangerously, but Megabat distracted her just in time.
“Mine knows a wild bat like yours-self leads an adventuresome life of thrillingness,” Megabat said, “so yours will loving this craft. It’s being called tie…” He paused for dramatic effect. “And die.”
Babybat gasped, then grinned with all her fangs.
THE PRANKS
The next morning at breakfast, Cook Martina looked especially cheerful in her tall chef’s hat, which, instead of its usual white, was a swirl of rainbow colors. The counselors looked joyous too. Well, their shirts did, even if their faces didn’t.
Megabat Is a Fraidybat Page 3