I rushed across the room. I bent down and picked up the giant china piggybank. It was a present from my aunt Harriet. I think she won it at a carnival.
The piggybank was bright pink. It had a coin slot on its back and a wide cork on its belly for taking the coins out. The bank was bigger than a toaster. Yes. It might hold the goo for a while.
I knew I had to be careful. I found a pair of leather gloves in my closet and slipped them on. Then I picked up the metal trowel I use for loosening the dirt in my ivy pots.
I took a silver funnel I’d been using for a science experiment. I removed the cork and jammed the funnel into the hole.
I stepped up to the dresser and began shoveling up the Monster Blood. Bubbling and steaming, it clung to the trowel. I tilted it into the funnel. Now it stuck to the funnel walls.
My eyes darted around the room, searching for something that might work better. Nothing here. The stuff was too sticky.
My heart pounded as I pushed and shoved and jammed the Monster Blood into the funnel. Down through the hole in the bank’s belly.
Finally, I jammed the last globs into the piggybank. My hand trembled as I shoved in the cork. The big bank was nearly full. Would it hold the bubbling green goo?
I tossed the funnel into my closet. Then I grabbed the roll of masking tape I’d been using to build my birdhouse model. I wrapped the tape all around the bank. Strip after strip. I wrapped many strips of tape over the slot on the top.
By the time I was finished, sweat poured down my forehead. My shirt was drenched. My arms and legs were trembling.
I thought about the swim team tomorrow. The guys were all counting on me. The whole school was counting on me.
I had to calm myself down. And then I had to get to sleep. Coach Widdoes always insisted on eight hours’ sleep before a meet.
I picked up the piggybank. Heavier now. And warm. Carefully, I carried it to my closet. I tucked it into a low shelf way in the back.
Gotta calm down … Gotta stop thinking about Monster Blood …
I picked up my watering can and began drizzling water on the two ivy plants. Then I untangled some vines and misted the leaves.
Working with my plants always calms me down.
But no way I could stop thinking about the bubbling green gunk in the piggybank in my closet. I’ll take it to the town dump tomorrow first thing after the swim meet, I decided.
The dump was only two blocks away. I could bury it there. No problem.
* * *
It took me a long time to fall asleep that night. I had a bunch of disturbing dreams.
I dreamed I heard strange bubbling sounds nearby.
GLUG GLUG POP GLUG GLUG.
I woke up slowly, feeling groggy, my head heavy as a rock.
GLUG GLUG POP GLUG GLUG.
The sounds from my dream! I was awake now. But I could still hear them!
Wet, smacking noises. Gurgles and pops.
It took me a long while to realize the sounds were REAL. Not a dream.
I jerked straight up in bed. My heart skipped a beat.
GLUUUG GLUG GLUUUG.
From the closet. I let out a long, worried sigh and climbed out of bed. The sick sounds grew louder as I crept across the room.
Had the Monster Blood escaped? Would it come sweeping over me in a tidal wave of hot goo?
I was two feet from the closet when I heard a scratching sound behind me. I spun around …
… And opened my mouth in a scream of horror.
A man! A GIANT! Eight feet tall!
He stood in my room — in front of the window, waving his outstretched arms at me!
“Who ARE you? What do you want?” I cried.
And then I gasped.
Moonlight flooded the window, and I saw that I wasn’t staring at a giant man.
I was staring at one of my ivy plants. The one closest to the dresser. It had grown to the ceiling. Its giant tendrils were waving in the breeze from the open window.
I clicked on the ceiling light. The plant was huge. It creaked and groaned, bending … stretching. Some of the vines brushed against the ceiling!
The Monster Blood … I remembered it … dripping off the dresser into my ivy plant.
Bradley was right about one thing. The green goo really made things GROW!
This isn’t fair, I thought. It just isn’t fair.
I had practiced and worked so hard for the championship meet tomorrow. And now I was getting no sleep. And I felt totally stressed and frightened.
How big would the ivy plant grow?
GLUG GLUG GLUG GLUG.
I had no choice. I had to check out the closet. I had to make sure the Monster Blood was still safe inside the piggybank.
I stepped up to the closet. I took a deep breath — turned the knob — and pulled open the door.
“NOOOOO!” I screamed as a tall, hot wave of goo washed onto me. It bounced off my chest, then oozed into my hands.
“Oh, nooo,” I groaned. This isn’t happening. The Monster Blood spread over my hands and tightened itself like a pair of gloves.
I staggered back. My hands started to itch like crazy. The green goo tightened itself … tighter … tighter … I shook my hands frantically, but the hot gunk clung to my skin.
As I struggled, the Monster Blood bulged bigger. And oozed onto my chest. I swiped at it with both hands. But they were slippery, covered in green goo. I couldn’t grab hold.
The hot, syrupy Monster Blood wrapped itself around my chest. Tighter … like a warm, tight sweater.
Gasping for breath, I squirmed and struggled.
I dropped to the rug and tried to roll it off. But it clung tight to me. And climbed higher over my body, spreading so fast. Now I could feel the sticky, warm ooze spreading onto my neck.
Tightening around my throat. Like fingers trying to strangle me.
My breath came out in loud wheezes.
I tugged at it. Twisted and bent my body. Tried to pry my fingers through the thick green blanket of goo.
Hard to breathe … It’s … it’s choking me!
The sickening smell poured into my nose. The gunk tickled my chin … rising fast.
Was it heading for my mouth?
I shut my mouth tight and gritted my teeth.
Can’t breathe … It’s BURNING me … CHOKING me …
The green goo bubbled and popped as it spread over me. The putrid aroma swept over my face. I struggled not to gag.
Desperate, I clawed at the goo over my chest. I tried desperately to dig my fingers into it … to pull … pull …
YES!
I plunged my fingers through the thick, wet goo. Grabbed hold. And gave it a hard tug.
YES!
It made a loud popping sound as I stretched it off my chest. I balled the sticky goo between my hands — and tugged harder.
The Monster Blood stretched like elastic, then snapped off my body into my hands. I kept rolling it into a tight ball. Tugging it off and rolling it.
I clamped the gunk between my hands, pressing it tighter, until it was the size of a basketball.
Now what?
I was still gasping for air, my heart jack-hammering.
The Monster Blood was off my body, but I could still feel its sticky warmth. Could still smell it on my itching skin.
It bubbled and popped between my hands. I staggered into the closet. Found a small duffel bag on the floor. Jammed it into the bag. Zipped the bag shut. Slammed the closet door and collapsed into my bed.
* * *
I stumbled down to breakfast the next morning. My eyes were red and burning. My head felt heavy as a rock. My whole body ached.
I stepped into the kitchen — and groaned.
Who had the nerve to show up this morning?
Three guesses, and they’re all Bradley “Worm” Wormser.
He grinned at me. Like everything was just perfect between us.
“Whassup?” he said. He raised a hand to slap me a high five. But I wa
lked right past him.
“Look, dude,” Bradley said. “You don’t have to share your cereal with me this morning. Your mom gave me my own bowl.” He held up his cereal bowl like it was a prize.
“Thrills and chills,” I muttered. I dropped into my chair across the table from him and ate my cereal. Livvy sat next to Bradley. She was mashing up her scrambled eggs with a fork. She likes to mash them flat. Don’t ask me why.
I checked to make sure my mom wasn’t in the kitchen. I didn’t want to tell her about the Monster Blood upstairs. Dad was out of town, so he couldn’t help. And I knew Mom would totally panic.
I leaned over the table. “Bradley, listen to me,” I whispered. “We have a real problem.”
He tilted the cereal bowl to his mouth and made loud slurping noises. Then he laughed. He thought it was a riot.
“I’m serious,” I said in a loud whisper. “The Monster Blood — It’s totally out of control. It made my ivy plant grow. And it —”
Bradley snapped his fingers right in front of Livvy’s nose.
“Stop it!” Livvy screamed. She jabbed Bradley with her elbow. “Stop snapping in my face, Worm! I mean it!” She elbowed him again. “You hit my nose.”
He laughed. “What nose?” he cried. “You call that pimple a nose?”
“Shut up!” Livvy shouted. “At least I don’t look like a slimy worm!”
Bradley snapped his fingers in her face again.
“Bradley, listen to me.” The two of them were going at each other. I had to shout at the top of my voice. “We have to DO something! My ivy plant …”
Mom burst into the kitchen. “What’s the racket?” she cried, covering her ears. “Go on. All of you. Get out of here. You’re all going to be late.”
She put a hand on my shoulder. “Dad is so sorry to miss your swim meet this afternoon. I’ll try my best to be there,” she said, patting me. “I’m so proud of you, Matt.”
“Thanks,” I muttered.
You won’t be proud if I fall asleep in the pool, I thought.
For a moment, I felt like telling her everything. Telling her about my birdhouse project. About how Bradley almost got me kicked out of school. About how I had to fight the Monster Blood. How it was still upstairs in my closet, throbbing and bubbling.
Would she believe any of it?
Bradley and Livvy had already headed out the front door. There wasn’t time to tell it all to her. Besides, what could Mom say? How could she help me now?
I had to find a way to deal with it.
I stuck my head out the front door. “I’ll be right there!” I shouted to Livvy and Bradley.
I hurried up the stairs to my room. I wanted to check the Monster Blood one more time. I wanted to make sure it hadn’t burst out of the duffel bag.
My heart was thudding in my chest as I pulled open the closet door. The ceiling light flashed on — and I let out a startled cry.
The Monster Blood! It was GONE!
I dropped to my knees and stared at the bottom shelf. Stared at the empty space where I had placed the duffel bag.
I shut my eyes. How could this happen? How could it disappear?
Finally, I climbed to my feet. I didn’t want to be late on the day of the swim meet. I shut the closet door behind me.
The giant ivy plant cast a long, quivering shadow over my bed. The leaves were as big as my hand. The vines were as thick as my arms!
Deal with it later! I told myself. Just get yourself to school. Concentrate on the swim meet. Shut this out of your mind.
I forced my legs to move. I found Livvy waiting for me at the curb. Bradley was already jogging across the street on his way to school.
Livvy flashed me a devilish grin. She grabbed my arm and pulled me close to whisper in my ear. “Matt, know what I did?”
“Huh?” I stared at her. “What are you talking about?”
She pulled me to the corner. Her grin hadn’t faded. “I snuck into your room last night,” she said. “I took that duffel bag out of the closet.”
My mouth dropped open. “How did you know about it? You were spying on me?”
She slapped my arm. “Listen. Let me tell you what I did. This morning, I took a gob of that gooey stuff out of the bag. And guess what? I put it in Bradley’s cereal!”
She tossed her head back and burst out laughing.
I almost choked. My breath caught in my throat. “How could you?” I cried.
She shrugged. “He deserves it,” she said.
“But, Livvy, you don’t understand. That stuff —”
“I know. It tastes like yuck,” Livvy said. She giggled. “But Bradley didn’t even notice. Did you see him? He gobbled down the whole bowl!”
She went skipping across the street to her school. I watched her meet up with three or four other girls. They were all talking at once. I wondered if Livvy would tell them about the “really awesome” joke she pulled.
Some joke. My head was spinning. Without knowing it, Bradley ate a gob of Monster Blood.
Had Livvy poisoned Bradley? Was he going to get horribly sick? Or WORSE?
I pictured the ivy plant spreading its enormous vines and leaves over my room. Was Bradley already ballooning up into a giant?
I gulped a deep breath of the warm morning air. Then I took off, racing to school.
Kenny and Jake — my buddies on the swim team — called to me from the corner. I gave them a quick wave, lowered my head, and kept running.
A few minutes later, I dodged through groups of kids in the halls — and burst into Mr. Scotto’s room.
“Bradley? Bradley?” My eyes darted frantically around the classroom. I spotted Bradley in his seat, leaning over to open his backpack. He raised his head when he heard me shouting his name.
Struggling to catch my breath, I stared at him. He looked the same. He hadn’t started to grow.
I grabbed Bradley by the shoulders and began to pull him from his chair. “Hurry,” I choked out. “You’ve got to see the nurse.”
He laughed. “Have you gone wacko? I’m not sick!”
I held on to his shirt. “It’s no joke,” I said. “I swear. You have to go see the nurse — right now!”
He pushed my hands away. “No way,” he said. “You’re crazy.”
Kids were staring at us. “Are they fighting again?” I heard a girl ask.
I glanced to the front of the room. Mr. Scotto wasn’t there yet.
I turned back to Bradley. “Please —” I said. “I’m your friend, right? Get up. Please. I’ll take you to the nurse.”
Bradley didn’t budge. He grinned at me. “Hey, guess what?” he said.
I stared at him. “What?”
“I saw your sister put something in my cereal bowl at breakfast,” Bradley said. “So, know what I did? I switched bowls with you, Matt. Ha-ha. You ate my cereal!”
Have you ever been on one of those amusement park rides that whirls around and around, and then the floor drops out from beneath you and you’re left spinning in midair?
That’s how I felt.
The whole room spun. The floor tilted up, then down.
Bradley snickered. “Matt, you okay?”
I didn’t answer. I felt weak. Dizzy.
I reeled away from him and dropped into my seat. I gazed down at my hands and feet. Was I growing?
No. Everything was still the same.
I pictured my ivy plant. Was my head going to stretch up to the ceiling in a few minutes? Was that green gook going to turn me into a total freak in front of the whole class?
Mr. Scotto stepped into the room. He moved to the chalkboard and began talking. He pointed to a map he had drawn in yellow chalk.
What was he talking about? I don’t know. I couldn’t concentrate on anything he said.
I kept hearing the bubble and pop of the Monster Blood as it oozed over my dresser last night. I grabbed my stomach. Was that sick bubbling sound going to start coming from inside me?
I burped.
Did that mean it was starting?
The back of my neck itched.
Was it because of the Monster Blood oozing through my system?
Total panic. That’s the only way I can describe how I felt. All morning, I gripped the desktop in front of me with sweaty hands. I kept checking myself out. Looking for the tiniest change. The tiniest sign …
I tried to force myself to listen to Mr. Scotto. But now my ears started to ring. And I kept listening for the Monster Blood in my stomach to begin to bubble.
I should have been thinking about the swim meet after school.
Concentrate. That’s what Coach Widdoes told me. But how could I concentrate when I kept picturing the two men in black. And remembered their warning about how dangerous Monster Blood was.
Really dangerous. And I ate a big blob of it. Thanks to my adorable sister.
The morning dragged by. I skipped lunch. Trust me, I didn’t feel at all hungry.
Instead, I went to the locker room and checked out my goggles and swim gear for the meet. Actually, I went to the locker room to hide. I knew it would be empty. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.
I walked out to the swimming pool. The hot, steamy air felt good on my face. And I love the heavy chlorine smell. I bent down and touched the water. Nice temperature.
Concentrate … concentrate.
Mainly, I concentrated on not growing bigger. Walking back to Mr. Scotto’s class, I gritted my teeth and kept my stomach muscles tight. And kept checking myself out every two seconds.
The longest day of my life.
I kept glancing at the clock. Was I going to make it to the swim meet?
A little before three o’clock, my stomach started to bubble and churn. My hands started to itch. I felt hot sweat run down my forehead.
It’s happening, I thought. I froze in panic. And felt a cool breeze on my legs. I looked down. Oh, noooo …
My bare legs stuck out of my jeans.
Did Mom shrink my jeans? I asked myself. But I knew better. I knew what was happening.
My shirt felt tight. The sleeves pinched my arms. The collar tightened around my neck.
My stomach churned. It felt like ocean waves inside me.