Penny wrinkled her face. “Bim?”
“That’s his brother’s name,” I said. “His brother is an art student. He is always making interesting things.”
Penny nodded. “Nice to meet you, Max.” She turned to me. “I got up to give my fish their late feeding. They always enjoy a midnight snack.”
We watched her leave the room. She walked with slow, shuffling steps.
We listened to her pad down the stairs. Then Chris and I turned back to Bim.
“Close call,” I said with a sigh.
Bim picked the slimy dead bird off the bedspread in one three-fingered hand. He pushed it into my face. “Taste?”
It smelled worse than a skunk! “Uggggh. No way!” I cried, backing away.
He held the dead bird by a leg and swung it under Chris’s nose. “Taste?”
Chris shook his head. His whole body shuddered. “I … I don’t think so.”
Bim shoved the bird back into his mouth. He swallowed it whole. It made a ssssllllliiccck sound as it slid down his throat. Then he wiped sticky stuff off his cheeks and lips.
“Bim eat only living meat,” he explained. “Living meat taste fresh.”
My stomach heaved again. I felt totally nauseous.
“Bim heave up food three times before food stay down,” the alien continued.
I stared at him. He still had some yellow slime on his chin. “You mean every time you eat, you have to puke three times?” I asked.
He nodded. “My feeling is happy. That was third time. Tasting so good.”
I turned to Chris. “I’m going to be sick. Really.”
“Not sick. My feeling is happy,” Bim said. “You nice new owners. Bim stay with you forever.”
I swallowed hard, waiting for my stomach to settle.
“What if we say please,” Chris said to Bim. “What if we say pretty-please. Then would you leave?”
“Yes,” I said. “Please. Please. Bim, we are begging you. Please leave our house.”
His antennae stood straight up. He raised one hand. “Bim swear will be loyal slave. Bim swear never leave you.”
“But … we’re begging you!” I cried. “Don’t you understand? We want you to go away!”
His antennae drooped. He lowered his hand to his side. He narrowed his tiny eyes and scrunched up his face until it wrinkled like an orange prune.
“Don’t make my feeling unhappy!” he growled.
I gasped.
Was that a threat?
The little guy suddenly looked menacing.
His eyes grew bold and blacker. His lips pulled back, and I saw three rows of pointed teeth! Slowly, the teeth began to grind.
And then as I stared, frozen in horror, straight yellow fangs slid down over his bottom lip. He began to pant like an animal, sucking drool on his fangs.
Chris and I both backed up.
Thick white foam spread over Bim’s open mouth. He snarled, and his fangs slid lower, down over his chin. He raised himself on tiptoe.
He didn’t look like a cute baby any longer. His face darkened to red. His chest swelled under the blue shirt.
He leaned toward us, eyes spinning wildly in his head.
And then he opened his mouth in a bellowing roar: “DON’T MAKE MY FEELING UNHAPPY!”
My heart was doing flip-flops in my chest. Staring at this … this MONSTER, my whole body began to shake.
“Okay, okay,” I choked out. I backed up until I bumped into my dresser.
Chris’s mouth hung open in fright. He leaped aside as the angry alien lurched forward.
The white foam bubbled from Bim’s mouth. His fangs made a scraping sound as they rubbed his chin. His face darkened to purple. “Don’t make my feeling unhappy,” he growled again.
How dangerous was this alien? Would he really hurt Chris and me?
Living meat.
He said he ate only living meat. Did that include humans?
Could he swallow us whole like that poor dead bird? And then puke us up two or three times?
I knew I had to calm him down. “Listen … Bim …” I started. “Chris and I would love for you to stay. Really.”
He stopped grunting and frothing. His face brightened back to tomato red.
“But there’s just nowhere for you to sleep,” I continued. “See?” I waved around my room. “There’s no place for you.”
“She’s right,” Chris chimed in. “There’s just no room, Bim.”
Bim stared hard at Chris, then at me. He gnashed his teeth loudly. White foam drooled onto my rug.
“My feeling very unhappy,” Bim rasped. “Never make Bim’s feeling unhappy. Because … see what happens.”
He spun around, turning his back on us. He walked heavily up to my wall of shelves. And he grabbed a doll off the middle shelf.
“No!” I screamed. “What are you going to do?”
Bim raised the doll in front of him. He held it up so I could see it clearly.
“No — please!” I cried. “Put her down! She’s my oldest doll. That’s Elizabeth. She belonged to my great-great-grandmother! Put her down, Bim!”
Bim lowered the doll.
“She’s my most valuable doll. Put her down. That’s right,” I said in a trembling voice. “Down … down …”
Bim lowered the doll to the shelf. Then he picked up the one next to it. One of my favorites, from the 1930s.
“Bim, please —”
He ignored me. He lowered the doll to his drooling mouth. Then he shoved the doll’s head into his mouth — and bit it off.
It made a sick craaaack.
I screamed.
He spit the head out. It hit the carpet and rolled halfway across the room.
“Bim, please —” I begged again.
He ignored me. His eyes whirled crazily as he began to spin the headless doll between his teeth. He spun it faster … faster. Like the lathe we have in the wood shop at school.
It made a whirring, grinding sound as he spun the doll between his teeth. In a few seconds, I stared at a pile of wood shavings on the floor.
My doll. One of my most precious dolls. Chewed to bits.
Bim shook the shavings off his red shoes. He spit out a splinter.
I was trembling all over. I turned to Chris with tears in my eyes.
“He’s really dangerous,” I whispered. “What are we going to do?”
“We’d better keep him happy,” Chris whispered. “Until we can figure out a way to get rid of him.”
“Should we tell Penny?” I asked.
“No,” Chris said. “We don’t want to upset her. She’s so frail. Besides, there’s no way she could help….”
I stared at Bim. He was breathing hard, sucking his fangs noisily, still red in the face.
I took a deep breath. “I … want to keep you feeling happy,” I said.
He instantly relaxed. His fangs slid up into his gums. His skin faded to orange. His antennae wiggled on top of his head.
“You want make Bim feeling happy?” he asked softly.
I nodded. “Yes. What can I do?”
“You rub my back,” he said. He plopped down on the carpet. He sat cross-legged and tugged off the blue T-shirt. “Rub Bim’s back for hour, maybe two.”
I didn’t know what to do. I glanced at Chris. He shrugged.
“Uh … I don’t think so,” I said.
Bim turned and picked up another doll from the shelf. Elizabeth!
He raised her to his mouth.
“Okay, okay!” I cried. “I’ll rub your back.”
He lowered Elizabeth to the shelf.
I stepped up behind him. I gazed down at his shiny orange skin. This was creepy. I didn’t really want to touch him.
“Rub Bim’s back,” he repeated. He rolled his bony shoulders.
I lowered my hands to his shoulders.
Ohhh, yuck.
His skin felt disgusting. Damp and hot and lumpy. Kind of like warm rice pudding.
I took in a deep breath.
His skin had a sharp smell, like burning tar.
“Phew,” Chris murmured, holding his nose. He dropped down on the edge of my bed and watched as I started to give Bim a back rub.
The skin on his back turned yellow when I pressed it. His back began to sweat, and the bumps all up and down it appeared to move.
“Nice,” Bim whispered. He closed his eyes and grinned. “More. Bim like many back rubs. It makes my feeling happy.”
It makes MY feeling sick! I thought.
But I knew it was better to keep him feeling happy than feeling sad. I turned and glanced at the wood shavings on my rug. I really wanted to cry. I love my dolls. How could he do that?
I rubbed Bim’s back and shoulders until my hands hurt. The tarry smell was on my hands and on my clothes. I wondered if it would ever come off.
Chris wasn’t helpful at all. He just sat there on my bed, watching. I hoped he was thinking of a plan to get this creepy alien out of our house.
Bim had already ruined Kelly’s party. Now he was planning to ruin our lives.
Finally, Bim opened his mouth, and a whoosh of air escaped his throat.
I jumped back. I thought he was puking up that dead bird again. But no. “Bim yawn,” he said. “Back rub make Bim sleepy.”
He yawned again, a long explosion of air.
He climbed to his feet and turned to me. “You take good care Bim,” he said. “Bim like many back rubs.”
“Uh … yeah. Sure,” I replied.
I felt sick. My hands were damp and achy. And they stunk of tar.
“My feeling is sleepy,” Bim said, stretching his arms above his head.
He crossed the room to my bookcase. He squatted down and began pulling all the books from the bottom shelf. He tugged them out three or four at a time and heaved them into the center of the room.
Then he climbed into the shelf and stretched out on his back. He yawned again, then settled himself on the wooden shelf.
A few seconds later, his eyes were closed. He was breathing noisily, grunting in a steady rhythm, sound asleep.
Chris stepped around the pile of books. He tiptoed over to me. “Give Chris back rub!” he whispered. Then he broke up, giggling.
“Shut up,” I said. I rubbed my tar-smelling hands over his cheeks.
He jumped back and nearly fell over the scattered books. “Oh, wow. That reeks!”
“No jokes,” I whispered. “We’ve got to think.”
“Come to my room, Meg.” He pulled me to the hall. “We can’t tell Penny. But we can call Mom and Dad.”
“But what makes you think they’ll believe us?” I asked. I followed him into his bedroom.
As always, it was a total disaster area. Piles of balled-up dirty clothes on the floor, an empty pizza box, soda cans, game cartridges, and DVDs strewn everywhere.
Chris isn’t exactly a neat freak.
“We’re going to tell Mom and Dad that an alien named Bim from the Weirdo planet landed in our neighborhood just in time for Halloween?” I said. “He’s a little orange guy with three fingers on each hand. And he’s in our house and won’t leave?”
“Why wouldn’t they believe that?” Chris replied. He laughed.
But his smile faded quickly. He dropped onto the edge of his bed and cupped his head in his hands. “They’ll never believe any of it,” he murmured. “We’ll never get rid of him.”
We tried calling our parents anyway. They didn’t answer.
I let out a long sigh. “I’m so tired. What time is it?”
Chris squinted at his phone. “It’s after one in the morning.” He yawned. “Guess I’m tired, too. Too tired to think straight.”
“We’ll think of a good plan in the morning,” I said. “Our brains will be sharp.”
Chris frowned. “I hope.”
I thought about going back to my bedroom with a dangerous space alien snoring away. A space alien who eats living flesh!
My chest felt fluttery. My heart was hammering. I almost started to cry. “I … I don’t want to go back there,” I said in a trembling voice.
“Bim is sound asleep,” Chris said. “He won’t bother you. Besides, he likes you — remember? The back rub?”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me,” I groaned.
He pushed me gently toward the door. A few seconds later, I heard his bedroom door close behind me. Then I heard a click as he locked it.
Since when did he lock his door?
Since Bim moved in, I guessed.
I crept back into my room. Bim was stretched out on his back on the bottom shelf of the bookcase. He had his hands crossed on top of his stomach. He was grunting and snoring and making disgusting, wet throat noises as he slept.
I changed my sheets and grabbed an extra blanket from the closet. Then I turned off the lights and climbed into bed.
I shut my eyes and tried not to think about Bim. But it was impossible. He was just a few feet away from me. And he was so noisy!
I pushed my fingers into my ears to try to keep out the snores and grunts. But no way could I sleep with my fingers in my ears.
I thought about Kelly. What did she tell her parents when they got home and saw the house totally wrecked? What did her parents say to her?
What a frightening, horrible night.
I turned onto my side and tried counting backward from one hundred to one, slowly. Finally, I must have drifted off to sleep.
When I opened my eyes, bright yellow sunlight poured through the bedroom window. I blinked. Sat up. Tried to shake my head awake.
It took a few seconds for my brain to get started. But then I remembered Bim.
I gazed down at the bottom of the bookcase.
Empty.
“Huh?” I sat straight up and pushed down the covers.
I gazed all around the room. “Bim?”
No sign of him.
The books were still scattered in the middle of the floor. The room still smelled like tar.
“Bim? Are you here?”
I jumped up and looked in the closet. I searched all around the room. I even looked under my desk.
Bim was gone.
Gone for good?
My heart was pounding hard. I did a happy little dance, leaping into the air.
Yes! Yes! Maybe he was gone for good. Gone from my house. Maybe he decided he didn’t like it here and hurried back to his planet.
I hummed happily to myself as I pulled on a white top and a pair of khaki pants. I couldn’t wait to tell Chris the good news.
I brushed my hair quickly. Some of the vampire mascara was smeared on my face. I decided I’d wash it off later.
“Chris!” I shouted as I ran out of my room. “Chris! Hey — Chris! Bim is gone!”
Chris wasn’t in his room. I tore down the stairs.
“Chris? Hey!”
I took a few steps into the living room and stopped. And stared in horror.
“Oh, noooo,” I moaned. “Oh, no!”
Penny’s precious goldfish bowl.
It was empty.
“Bim,” I muttered. “Bim eats only living meat.”
Does that include fish?
I couldn’t take my eyes off the empty fishbowl. My legs started to tremble, and my knees felt weak.
“Oh, wow,” I muttered. “Oh, wow. This is so horrible.”
I heard shuffling footsteps and turned from the empty fishbowl. Penny walked in from the kitchen. She had a dish towel in one hand and a spatula in the other.
“Meg?” She squinted at me. “I didn’t hear you come down. What a beautiful Saturday morning!”
She sounded so cheerful and happy. I took a deep breath. I had to tell her the sad news.
“Uh … Penny. Your fish —” I pointed to the empty bowl.
Her mouth dropped open. She seemed so delicate. I hoped the shock wouldn’t be too much for her.
I started across the room to her, in case she fainted or something. “Your fish … uh … they’re not in the bowl …” I stammered. “You see
—”
“Yes, I know,” Penny said calmly. “I moved them to another bowl so I can clean this bowl later.”
“You — you — what?” I stammered.
“Yes, I clean the bowl twice a day,” Penny said. “They complain if the water gets dirty.”
“They do?” I murmured, still shaking.
Penny nodded. She waved the spatula toward the kitchen door. “The fish are in the kitchen. Arlo is in a very peppy mood. He’s swimming laps in the new bowl. He’s a very good swimmer.”
Most fish are! I thought. I started to feel a little better.
She waved the spatula again. “Now, why am I carrying this thing?” She knotted up her face. “Hmmmmm. I know I’m carrying it for a reason.”
“Are you cooking something for breakfast?” I asked, trying to be helpful.
“Yes! That’s it!” Penny cried. “Come have your breakfast, Meg. I’m making blueberry pancakes.”
“They smell great, Penny,” I said, following her. My heart was still pounding. I couldn’t stop thinking about Bim.
I gazed all around the room as I walked. I expected him to pop up from behind a chair or out of a closet.
I stopped at the kitchen door and quickly glanced around. Was he sitting at the counter?
No.
Meg, calm down! I scolded myself.
Maybe he’s gone. Really gone.
Chris sat at the counter. “Where is he?” he whispered.
“Gone,” I whispered back.
Chris pumped a fist in the air and gave a cheer.
“You’re in a good mood this morning,” Penny said to Chris. She dipped the spatula into the frying pan and flipped a pancake high into the air.
It landed on top of her head with a soft plop.
“Where did it go?” she asked, squinting all around. “Where did that one get to?”
“I think I’ll just have cereal this morning,” Chris said.
* * *
After breakfast, Chris followed me up to my room. “Wow. Your room is a total mess,” he said. “Why don’t you keep your books in the bookcase?”
“Very funny,” I said. “Just cross your fingers that Bim doesn’t come back.”
Chris held up both hands. “See? I’ve already got them crossed.”
“I’m going to put all the books back,” I said. “Then I’m going over to Kelly’s and see how she’s doing this morning.”