Wonkenstein

  Wonk was in there! My stomach and heart began to beat each other up.

  Jack and I crawled under some of the large bushes near the edge of the island and looked through the rain toward the Awful House. I saw Wonk’s shadow move away from the window.

  I thought of Mr. Pang and his large son, Ogre. I thought of all the stories we had made up about the Awful House.

  My brain whirled again, and I knew there was no way I was going to get out of this. I had pushed the problem aside long enough. Don’t get me wrong—I was pretty tempted just to run back to my house and bury myself in my bed and pretend this wasn’t my trouble. But a small, nagging part of me kept poking me in the chest and demanding I do what was right.

  So I scrambled out from beneath the bushes and bravely marched across the street.

  All right, maybe I bravely crawled, but at least I was going in.

  CHAPTER 9

  LOCK YOUR DOORS

  I crept around to the far side of the Awful House, past the creaking windmill and up to the back door. Jack had promised to keep watch outside and cover me with his assault flashlight. He also promised to alert the authorities if I wasn’t back quickly. I knew he really wouldn’t do that, so I made him at least promise to tell Trevor and then Trevor could wake my parents and they could get the police. I also knew it probably wouldn’t go that smoothly.

  The Awful House looked even worse in the rain. I thought about just knocking on the door and asking to go in, but I knew Mr. Pang would never allow that. Besides, he was probably asleep, and waking him up seemed like a really bad idea. So I figured the smartest or dumbest thing to do was to just sneak up to the house and try to coax Wonkenstein out somehow.

  I crawled through the tall, wet weeds and over to the weathered back porch. The steps creaked and whined as I climbed them.

  I could see how Wonkenstein had gotten in. The back door was banging in the wind. It would open a few inches, slam shut, and then pop open again. I was actually disappointed. I had been sort of hoping the back door would be locked so that I could just leave.

  That wasn’t the case. The door blew open, and I slipped inside. I could see a light shining from down the hall, and I could hear a TV. The house was old, and the hallway wall was covered with a large mural of an underwater scene. It wasn’t a very good painting. A big, mushy-looking whale with fat googly eyes was staring at me with his right peeper.

  I could see some stairs going up to the second floor. I climbed them slowly while my mind kept whispering to me.

  I reached the second floor and shuffled quietly in the direction of the window I had seen Wonkenstein standing near. I whispered as calmly as I could …

  There was no reply.

  I heard some knocking coming from a shadowy doorway. I tried to convince myself I was brave while moving into the room and looking around. There was a soft light shining, and on the wall I could see a large mural of an African jungle.

  There was also a wooden trunk at the end of a thin bed. While I was looking at the trunk, it suddenly shook. I was just about to turn around and run screaming from the house when the top of the trunk popped open and a small black shadow leapt toward me. I didn’t react well. I fell backward as Wonkenstein smashed into me, and we both tumbled to the floor.

  I tried to shush him, but he just kept grunting and telling me how marvelous it was to see me again. He was still wearing the dance costume and was covered in beads. I could hear Mr. Pang yelling something from down below—this was followed by the sound of footsteps thumping up the stairs. I had no time to really think things through. I ordered Wonkenstein to keep quiet and then used the mural to help us hide.

  Mr. Pang stuck his head in and looked around for a few seconds. He grunted, blamed the noise on the rain, and walked back downstairs. I breathed out, and Wonkenstein smiled at me.

  He then began talking about how he loved nuts, so I had to put my hand over his mouth to keep him quiet.

  When we finally made it downstairs and to the back door, I discovered that Mr. Pang had locked it. Plus, it wasn’t the kind of lock you could just twist open from inside—it was the kind that needed a key. I moved along the wall to see if I could open a window, but all the windows had locks on them too. I kept hoping that Jack and Trevor would burst into the house with assault flashlights and rescue us.

  I glanced down the long hallway toward the sound of the TV and realized that the only way to get out was to go past Mr. Pang and through the front door. I held Wonkenstein’s hand and we crept down the hall. When we got to the living room, I could see Mr. Pang sitting in a recliner next to a small table. He was wearing an old robe and staring at a huge TV. The volume was up really loud. I could see the remote in the front pocket of his robe and wondered why he didn’t use it to turn the sound down.

  I looked at Wonkenstein and put my finger to my lips. We stepped as carefully as we could along the wall, toward the front door. We were right behind Mr. Pang’s chair when Wonkenstein noticed a small dish of hard candy on the little table.

  Before I could stop him, Wonkenstein reached out and grabbed a piece. The dish rattled, and Mr. Pang jumped in his chair and spun around. I ducked down behind the chair, holding Wonkenstein as still as possible.

  Mr. Pang looked around and shifted his chair to have a better view of the hallway and room. By moving his chair, he had unknowingly pinned us against the wall. He sat back down and continued to watch TV. We were trapped, and I couldn’t think of a single way to save us.

  CHAPTER 10

  SAVED BY CANDY

  Luckily for us, I didn’t have to think of anything. Instead, I let the book I had been reading think for me. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the piece of candy that Wonkenstein had given me earlier. Wonkenstein looked at it and smiled as I asked …

  Wonk shrugged, and his eyes widened. I knew the candy had to do something. After all, the candy in the book was anything but boring. I figured it would turn whoever ate it into a huge blueberry or make their hair grow. I was tempted to try it myself, but we needed a distraction. As quietly as I could, I unwrapped it and reached out from behind the chair. I placed the piece of candy on top of the pile in the candy dish. Not more than thirty seconds later, Mr. Pang picked it up and tossed it into his mouth.

  He chewed, grunted a few times, and picked up another piece of candy. I was pretty disappointed—apparently the candy didn’t do anything. Wonkenstein patted me on the knee and growled quietly. I knew we had to get out, but I couldn’t see how. I considered waiting until Mr. Pang went to bed, but if he slept in his chair, that wouldn’t work. I thought about pretending I had just wandered into the house while sleepwalking, and walking out, but I didn’t think Mr. Pang would fall for it.

  I was beginning to really worry when I heard a small yelp from the other side of the chair. I thought it was the TV, but then the chair began to shake. Wonkenstein started to panic. He kicked against the back of the chair and grunted loudly. The beads he was wearing rattled. I wanted to shut him up, but I was also concerned about what was happening to Mr. Pang. The chair was still shaking, and he was hollering. I pushed up and looked over the back of the chair. I don’t know what I was expecting to see, but it wasn’t this:

  Mr. Pang’s toes had burst out of his socks and were twisting and growing at an amazing rate. Some were coiling up in piles, and others were shooting up the fireplace or across the floor. I thought about running for the front door, but his right big toe and left pinky toe were blocking the way.

  I tossed Wonkenstein up over my shoulder and pushed the chair away from us. I ran back down the hall and up the stairs. Mr. Pang spotted me and yelled …

  He might have actually yelled “STOP RIGHT NOW,” but I couldn’t tell for sure. I ran up the stairs as Mr. Pang tried to follow, dragging his long toes. He was pretty fast for an old guy.

  I reached the top of the stairs and looked around. I could hear Mr. Pang climbing up behind me. Wonkenstein seemed to be enjoying it all because he kept laughing and gru
nting.

  I was about to run into the room with the safari mural and try to hide again when I saw a door open. It had a KEEP OUT sign on it and a hand sticking out.

  The hand gestured for me to come closer. I ignored the sign and took a step toward it. The door opened wider, and Wonkenstein and I were pulled in. I could hear the door shut behind me as I fell against a soft bed. I turned over quickly, thinking I might have to defend myself.

  It was Ogre. I could hear Mr. Pang thrashing outside the bedroom door. Ogre told us to stay put. He then went out into the hall and shut the door behind him. My heart was beating a million times per minute, and my forehead was sweaty.

  Wonkenstein looked down at the outfit Jack had put on him. He pulled off the necklaces and squirmed out of the tutu. I was mad at Jack, but this was really all my fault. I knew better than to leave anything in Jack’s care. One time a few years ago, I had let Jack borrow some of my Legos, and when I got them back, they were all melted together with a pair of Barbie legs and an old hairbrush.

  Wonkenstein grunted. We could hear Ogre arguing with his dad in the hall. A few minutes later, Ogre came into the room and shut the door behind him. He told us his dad had really long toes, but that they were shrinking back. I tried to look cool and as if I had no idea how that had happened.

  Ogre then said that his dad had seen me and was going to call the police. When I asked Ogre why he was helping us, he just shrugged.

  I was going to argue that point, but since it was true, I let it go.

  Ogre unlocked his bedroom window and helped Wonkenstein and me out and into the wet tree branches. The rain was beginning to let up. I begged Ogre to not tell anyone about Wonkenstein.

  I shinnied down the wet tree with Wonkenstein sitting on my shoulders and holding on to my head. Rain sprayed me in the face as I ran home. When I got back to my house, I crawled through my window. I had barely shoved Wonk beneath the bed and jumped under my covers when my bedroom door burst open. My parents were standing there, and they didn’t look happy. Of course, my dad never really looks happy without his glasses on.

  Apparently they had gotten a call from Mr. Pang, and now they wanted some answers. I tried to tell them that I had been in my room all night, but the fact that I was soaking wet sort of blew my cover.

  A police car pulled up to our house, and two cops came in to talk to me. I was going to spill the beans about everything, but the cop just started talking, and I knew it was rude to interrupt.

  I felt pretty happy about how it turned out. But when my father and I accompanied the cops out to their car, I noticed Janae and her mom looking out of their front window. Janae’s mom was shaking her head.

  Sometimes adults can be a little judgmental.

  CHAPTER 11

  FIZZY

  My parents weren’t quite as quick to let me off the hook as the cops were. My mom sent me to my room and promised she would think of a proper punishment for me in the morning. I could see the ideas already forming in her head.

  I was so pumped up from my adventure that I couldn’t fall asleep. So I finished the rest of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory while Wonkenstein slept at the foot of my bed. I had never read so fast or so much, but I wanted answers.

  Still, I was pretty tired in the morning. I fell asleep on the bus and started to snore. Teddy made the situation even worse by sticking straws in my nose and trash in my hair.

  When I got to school, the bus driver woke me up and I hefted my backpack onto my shoulders. I hadn’t wanted to leave Wonkenstein at home, so I had tucked him in my backpack. I had also put a bottle of soda and a bunch of fruit snacks in there to keep him happy during the long school day.

  Right after first period, I went to the school library and checked out the book Frankenstein. As I was coming out of the library, I bumped into Jack. I thanked him for not helping me last night, and he didn’t even say sorry. He told me that he went straight home after I had gone into the Awful House. When I reminded him that I COULD HAVE DIED, he repeated what his dad always says to us.

  I’d never understood what that meant, so I just punched Jack in the right shoulder and walked away.

  I was both surprised and happy about how well Wonkenstein did keeping quiet in my backpack. Sadly, that changed during lunch. I had just walked up to Janae to explain what she and her mom had seen last night. But before I could tell her, she began talking about the dramatic poetry contest and how the performance would be in two weeks. She also informed me that she had already gone to the trouble of signing me up. Janae then asked me if I was going to be nervous, and when I opened my mouth to speak, Wonkenstein let it fly. I’m not sure what it was. Maybe it was the soda I had given him, or all the jostling in my backpack. Either way, he burped louder and longer than I had ever heard anyone burp before. I was horrified, but the only thing I could do was stand there with my mouth hanging open and try to make it look like it was me.

  I could have been wrong, but it looked like Janae was going to cry. She dropped her apple and ran out of the lunchroom before I could explain. Rourk complimented me on my burp while Mrs. Wetting grabbed me by the ear and dragged me to the principal’s office.

  Principal Smelt has been the principal of Joseph P. Softrock Middle School for twenty years. He’s a nice guy, and he plays the pan flute—which is probably not what you think it is.

  He also has a singing group that’s made up of him and one other old guy who shakes a tambourine and harmonizes. They call themselves Leftover Angst, which is a name I don’t understand. I understand leftover, but angst is a new word for me. If I had to guess, I bet it means “old people who are trying to act young but not having much success at it.”

  Principal Smelt and his band love to play songs at our assemblies. It doesn’t matter what the assembly’s theme is, he seems to always have an original song that fits. Once when we had a speaker come and talk to us about hygiene and using deodorant and stuff, Principal Smelt managed to have a song about that as well.

  I thought that was the most embarrassing song I had ever heard, but then when me and Trevor were at the mall once, we saw Principal Smelt and his band in front of Sears, singing about underwear on sale.

  Unfortunately, Principal Smelt wasn’t in a singing mood. He lectured me about manners and made me promise to apologize to Janae for burping. I told him I would, but I knew deep in my heart that there was no way I was ever going to talk to Janae again. Nope, I had blown my chance, and now I would grow up alone, live alone, and never speak to another girl. I would become one of those ancient hermits who lives in the mountains and has a bug-filled beard.

  Things got even more uncomfortable for me when I took the bus home and Wonkenstein wouldn’t stop wiggling around in my backpack. I guess he was tired of being in there and was trying to stretch. He kept moving and rocking, and so as not to make people suspicious, I had to keep wiggling around myself to make it look like I was the one causing the backpack to shake. One kid thought I was having a fit, and a couple of girls thought I was dancing. Then Wonk began to grunt, so I had to pretend like I was singing to cover it up.

  Janae wouldn’t even turn her head in my direction. In fact, when we reached our bus stop, she got off so fast she looked like a blur. I asked Trevor if he wanted to come over to my house, but he said he needed to hang out with somebody a little less odd. I tried to explain things to him, but he wouldn’t listen. He just kept saying that there was no such thing as Wonkenstein over and over.

  When I got inside, Tuffin was standing in the middle of the room, watching TV. There was a clipboard hanging around his neck and a note on the board.

  The note was from my mom, and it was a list of all the jobs I needed to do to make up for waking her and my father in the middle of the night.

  I spent the rest of the day picking dead leaves out of the rocks in our front yard. It was my least favorite job. But Wonkenstein sat up in a nearby tree and read me parts of Frankenstein. Sometimes the monster part of him would take over and he would hav
e to grunt pages, but he did a pretty good job. It was kind of weird to have him reading about part of himself.

  Right before I finished picking all the leaves out of the rocks, a big gust of wind blew them everywhere. All in all, it was a pretty rotten day, and for some reason, I had a feeling tomorrow was going to be even worse.

  CHAPTER 12

  NOBODY LISTENS ANYMORE

  You know, Frankenstein is a pretty good book. In fact, I’ll go as far as to say that it’s way better than the cartoon. Wonkenstein read some of it to me while I was picking up leaves and then I read some to him before bed. It turns out Trevor was right about Frankenstein being the doctor, not the monster. I kept thinking about Willy Wonka and the candy that had saved us. I thought about the monster that Frankenstein had built and how sad and lonely he was. He kind of reminded me of Ogre. When I woke up in the morning, both books were still on my mind.

  I put Wonkenstein in my backpack again, but this time I gave him a juice box instead of a soda. I thought about leaving Wonk at home, but he said he liked the backpack and that it made him feel like an Oompa-Loompa in its sleeping pod. He also promised that if I took him to school, he would behave. So I crammed Wonk into my pack, heaved him onto my back, and stumbled out of my house. Luckily I didn’t fall asleep on the bus again. Today it was Jack’s turn to snore and get picked on.