Trigger was growing so fast, completely out of control. He was already the size of a pony and getting larger by the minute.
“Trigger! Trigger! Stop, boy!”
Trigger didn’t seem to hear him. Evan’s voice didn’t seem to carry beyond the gusting, swirling wind.
And still Evan ran, his chest pounding, every muscle aching. And as he ran, he suddenly realized there were others running, too.
Two large figures in front of the stampeding dog.
Two large figures Evan recognized as they fled at full speed, trying to get away from the onrushing animal.
The Beymer twins. Rick and Tony.
Trigger was chasing them, Evan suddenly realized.
The boys turned a corner, onto an even darker street. Trigger followed, bounding after them. Evan continued to run, bringing up the rear of this dark, mysterious parade.
All was silent now, except for the steady, rhythmic thunder of Trigger’s enormous padded paws.
Except for the clapclapclap of the Beymer twins’ sneakers as they darted along the glistening pavement.
Except for the gasp of Evan’s breathing as he struggled to keep up.
Suddenly, as Evan watched in horror, the dog raised up on his hind legs. He tilted his head to the sky and let out an ear-piercing howl. Not the howl of a dog. A creature howl.
And then Trigger’s features began to transform. His forehead burst forward and enlarged. His eyes grew wide and round before sinking under the protruding forehead. Fangs slid from his gaping mouth, and he uttered another howl to the sky, louder and more chilling than the first.
“He’s a monster! A monster!” Evan cried.
And woke up.
Woke up from his frightening dream.
And realized he was in bed, in the study upstairs in Kathryn’s house.
It had all been a dream, a frightening, wild chase of a dream.
A harmless dream. Except that something still wasn’t right.
The bed. It felt so uncomfortable. So cramped.
Evan sat up, alert, wide awake now.
And stared down at his giant feet. His giant hands. And realized how tiny the bed seemed beneath him.
Because he was a giant now.
Because he had grown so huge, so monstrously huge.
And when he saw how big he had become, he opened his mouth wide and began to scream.
14
His screams woke him up.
This time he really woke up.
And realized that, the first time, he had only dreamed that he was awake. Had only dreamed that he had become a giant.
Dreams upon dreams.
Was he really awake now?
He sat up, blinked, rubbed his eyes, struggled to focus.
Dripping with sweat.
His blankets tossed to the floor.
His pajamas damp, clinging to his prickly skin.
Nothing seemed familiar. It took awhile to shake off the dream, to remember where he was. That he was in his room at Kathryn’s. Awake now. His normal size.
Tossed by the wind, the curtains brushed over him, then were noisily sucked out the window.
Evan sat up and, still feeling shaky, peered out the window.
Wisps of gray clouds floated over a pale half-moon. Trees tossed and whispered in the cool night wind.
Only a dream.
A frightening dream. A dream on top of a dream.
He could see Trigger sound asleep, curled up on himself, pressed against the fence wall.
Trigger wasn’t a monster. But he was definitely bigger, Evan saw.
Maybe there’s something wrong with him. The troubling thought pushed its way into Evan’s mind as he stared down at the sleeping dog.
Maybe it’s glands or something.
Maybe he’s eating too much. Or maybe …
Evan yawned. He realized he was too sleepy to think clearly. Maybe the next morning he’d see if there was a vet in town.
Yawning again, he started to settle back into bed. But something caught his eye.
The coffee can on the bookshelf. The can where he had stored the Monster Blood.
“Hey —” he cried aloud.
The green gunk was bubbling, quivering up over the top of the coffee can.
15
“Your dog seems to be quite healthy for his age.” Dr. Forrest scratched Trigger gently under the chin. “Look at all the white hairs,” he said, bringing his face down close to the dog’s. “You’re a good old dog, aren’t you?”
Trigger licked the doctor’s hand appreciatively.
Dr. Forrest grinned, pushing his black eyeglasses up on his narrow nose, the ceiling light reflecting off his shiny forehead. He wiped his hand on the front of his white lab coat.
Evan and Andy stood across from Trigger in the small, brightly lit office. They had both been tense during the long examination the vet had given the dog. But now, hearing the doctor’s verdict, they had relaxed expressions on their faces.
“So you think it’s just a late growth spurt?” Evan repeated.
Dr. Forrest nodded, returning to his desk in the corner. “Highly unusual,” he said softly, leaning over the desk to write a note on a pad. “Highly unusual. We’ll get a lab report in three or four days. It may tell us more. But the dog seems very healthy to me. I really wouldn’t be alarmed.”
“But do cocker spaniels usually get this big?” Evan asked, leaning down to scratch Trigger under the chin, the leash looped loosely in his hand.
Trigger wanted to leave. He pulled toward the door. Evan stood up and tugged hard at the leash to keep the dog in place. It took all of his strength. Trigger was not only bigger; he was much stronger than he had been a few days before.
“No. Not usually,” the vet replied. “That’s why I took the hormone tests and the blood and glandular samples. Maybe the lab will have an answer for us.”
He finished writing and tore the sheet off the pad. “Here,” he said, handing the paper to Evan. “I wrote down the name of a good dog food. Put Trigger on this and see that he cuts down on his between-meal snacks.” He chuckled at his own joke.
Evan thanked the doctor and allowed Trigger to pull him out of the office. Andy jogged after them. In the waiting room outside, a tiny Chihuahua cowered behind the couch, whimpering at the sight of the big cocker spaniel.
“I’m glad to be out of there,” Evan exclaimed as they stepped out to the sidewalk.
“Trigger got a very good report,” Andy said reassuringly, petting Trigger’s head. “Hey, look — his head is wider than my hand!”
“He’s nearly as big as a sheepdog!” Evan said miserably. “And Dr. Forrest says he’s perfectly okay.”
“Don’t exaggerate,” Andy scolded. She glanced at her watch. “Oh, no! I don’t believe it. Late for my piano lesson. Again! Mom’ll kill me!”
She waved good-bye, turned, and ran full speed down the sidewalk, nearly colliding with an elderly couple coming slowly out of the small grocery store on the corner.
“Let’s go, boy,” Evan said, thinking about what Dr. Forrest had said. Tugging the leash, he headed out of the small, three-block town. Despite the vet’s assurances, Evan was still plenty worried about Trigger.
He stopped outside the grocery. “Maybe an ice cream pop will help cheer me up.” He tied Trigger’s leash to the red fire hydrant across from the grocery’s door. “Stay,” he instructed.
Trigger, ignoring Evan, struggled to pull free.
“I’ll only be a second,” Evan said, and hurried into the store.
There were three or four people in the store, and it took a bit longer than Evan had expected. When he returned to the sidewalk ten minutes later, he discovered the Beymer twins busily untying Trigger.
“Hey — let go!” he cried angrily.
They both turned toward him, identical grins on their beefy faces. “Look what we found,” one of them teased. The other one successfully untied the leash from the hydrant.
“Hand me that,” Eva
n insisted, holding his chocolate ice cream bar in one hand, reaching for the leash handle with the other.
The Beymer twin held the leash handle out to Evan — then quickly snapped it back out of his reach. “Gotcha!”
The brothers laughed gleefully and slapped each other a high five.
“Stop fooling around,” Evan insisted. “Hand me the leash.”
“Finders, keepers,” one of them said. “Isn’t that right, Tony?”
“Yeah,” Tony replied, grinning. “It’s an ugly dog. But it’s our ugly dog now.”
“Get your own dog, wimp,” Rick said nastily. He stepped forward and punched the ice cream bar out of Evan’s hand. It landed on the sidewalk with a plop.
The brothers started to laugh, but their laughter was cut short as Trigger suddenly uttered a low, warning growl. Pulling back his lips, he bared his teeth, and his growl became a snarl.
“Hey —” Rick cried, dropping the leash.
With a loud, angry roar, Trigger reared up and pounced on Rick, forcing him to stagger backward to the curb.
Tony had already started to run, his sneakers pounding the pavement noisily as he headed at full speed past the vet’s office, past the post office, and kept going.
“Wait up! Hey, Tony — wait up!” Rick stumbled, stood up, and took off after his brother.
Evan grabbed for Trigger’s leash — and missed.
“Trigger — whoa! Stop!”
The dog took off after the fleeting twins, barking angrily, his enormous paws thudding loudly on the pavement, picking up speed as he closed in on them.
No, Evan thought, finding himself frozen there on the corner in front of the grocery.
No. No. No.
This can’t be happening!
It’s my dream.
Is it coming true?
Evan shuddered, remembering the rest of his dream, remembering how he, too, grew until he was twice his size.
Would that part of the dream also come true?
16
That afternoon, about an hour before dinnertime, Evan called Andy. “Can I come over?” he asked. “I have a small problem.”
“Sounds like a big problem,” Andy said.
“Yeah. Okay. A big problem,” Evan snapped impatiently. “I’m not in the mood to kid around, okay?”
“Okay. Sorry,” Andy replied quickly. “Any sign of Rick and Tony? They’re not your problem, are they?”
“Not at the moment,” he told her. “I told you, they were gone by the time I caught up with Trigger. Disappeared. Vanished. Trigger was still barking his head off. Somehow I dragged him home and got him in his pen.”
“So what’s your problem?” she asked.
“I can’t tell you. I have to show you,” he said. “I’ll be right there. Bye.”
He hung up the phone and hurried down the stairs, carrying the bucket. Kathryn was in the kitchen, her back to him, chopping away at something with her big butcher knife. Evan hurried past and darted out the door.
Andy’s house was a modern, redwood ranch style, with a low hedge of evergreens running along the front. Her dad, she said, was a fanatic about the lawn. It was clipped a perfect inch and a half above the ground, smooth as a carpet. A flower garden stretched along the front of the house, tall orange and yellow tiger lilies bobbing in the gentle breeze.
The front door was open. Evan knocked on the screen door.
“What’s with the bucket?” was Andy’s greeting as she let him in.
“Look,” he said, out of breath from running all the way to her house. He held up the aluminum bucket he had taken from Kathryn’s garage.
“Oh, wow,” Andy exclaimed, raising her hands to her face as she stared into it wide-eyed.
“Yeah. Wow,” he repeated sarcastically. “The Monster Blood. It’s grown again. Look. It’s almost filled this big bucket. What are we going to do?”
“What do you mean we?” Andy teased, leading him into the den.
“Not funny,” he muttered.
“You didn’t want to share it,” she insisted.
“I’ll share it now,” he said eagerly. “In fact … do you want it? I’ll give it to you for a bargain price — free.” He held the bucket toward her.
“Huh-uh.” Andy shook her head, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Put it down, will you?” She pointed to the corner behind the red leather couch. “Put it over there. It’s giving me the creeps.”
“Giving you the creeps!?” Evan cried. “What am I going to do? Every time I turn around, it grows some more. It’s growing faster than Trigger!”
“Hey!” they both cried at once.
Both had the same thought, the same frightening memory. Both suddenly remembered that Trigger had eaten a ball of the green gunk.
“Do you think …” Evan started.
“Maybe …” Andy replied, not waiting for him to finish his thought. “Maybe Trigger’s growing because he ate the Monster Blood.”
“What am I going to do?” Evan wailed, pacing the room nervously, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets. “The stuff is getting bigger and bigger, and so is poor Trigger. I’m all alone here. There’s no one who can help me. No one.”
“What about your aunt?” Andy suggested, staring at the bucket on the floor in the corner. “Maybe Kathryn can think of something —”
“Are you kidding? She can’t hear me. She doesn’t want to hear me. She hates me. She just sits at her jigsaw puzzle and argues with that horrible black cat all day.”
“Okay. Forget the aunt,” Andy said, making a dispirited face.
“Perhaps if you told Dr. Forrest —”
“Oh, yeah. For sure,” Evan snapped. “He’d really believe that Trigger is turning into a giant because I let him eat Monster Blood.”
He threw himself down on the couch. “I’m all alone here, Andy. There’s no one to help me. No one I can even talk to about this.”
“Except me?”
“Yeah,” he said, locking his eyes on hers. “Except you.”
She plopped down on the other end of the couch. “Well, what can I do?” she said hesitantly.
He jumped up and carried the bucket over. “Take some of this. Let’s split it up.”
“Huh? Why don’t we just toss it in the trash?” she asked, staring down at it. The green gunk was pushing up near the top of the bucket.
“Toss it? We can’t,” he said.
“Sure, we can. Come on. I’ll show you.” She reached for the bucket handle, but he shoved it out of her reach.
“What if it outgrows the trash can?” he asked. “What if it just keeps growing?”
Andy shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Also, I have to save it,” Evan continued excitedly. “If it’s really the thing that’s causing Trigger to grow, I’ll need it as proof. You know. To show the doctors or whatever. So they can cure Trigger.”
“Maybe we should call the police,” Andy said thoughtfully, tugging at a strand of hair.
“Oh. Sure,” Evan replied, rolling his eyes. “They’ll really believe us. For sure. ‘We bought this stuff in a toy store, officer, and now it’s growing bigger and bigger and it’s turning my dog into a giant monster.’”
“Okay, okay. You’re right,” Andy said. “We can’t call the police.”
“So, are you going to help me?” Evan demanded. “Will you take some of this stuff?”
“I guess,” she said reluctantly. “But just a little.” She climbed to her feet, carefully stepping around the bucket. “I’ll be right back.”
She left the room, then quickly returned, carrying an empty coffee can. “Fill ‘er up,” she said, smiling.
Evan stared at the coffee can. “That’s all you’re going to take?” he complained. Then he immediately softened his tone. “Okay. Okay. It’s a help.”
Andy crouched down and dipped the coffee can into the middle of the bucket. “Hey!” she cried out. Her hands flew up and she tumbled back onto the floor.
“Wha
t’s wrong?” Evan hurried over to her.
“It was pulling the coffee can in,” she said, her features tight with fear and surprise. “Sucking it. Look.”
Evan peered into the bucket. The coffee can had disappeared under the surface. “Huh?”
“I could feel it pulling,” Andy said shakily. She regained her perch over the bucket.
“Let’s see,” Evan said, and plunged both hands into the middle of the Monster Blood.
“Yuck,” Andy said. “This is really gross.”
“It’s pulling. You’re right,” Evan agreed. “It feels like it’s pulling my hands down. Wow. It’s so warm. As if it’s alive.”
“Don’t say that!” Andy cried with a shudder. “Just get the can out, okay?”
Evan had to tug hard, but he managed to pull up the coffee can, filled to the top with the quivering green substance. “Yuck.”
“You sure I have to take this?” Andy asked, not reaching for it even though he was holding it out to her.
“Just for a little while,” he said. “Till we think of a better plan.”
“Maybe we could feed it to the Beymer twins,” Andy suggested, finally taking the can.
“Then we’d have giant Beymer twins,” Evan joked. “No, thank you.”
“Seriously, you’d better watch out for them,” Andy warned. “If Trigger scared them away this morning, they’ll be looking to get back at you. They really think they’re tough dudes, Evan. They can be vicious. They could really hurt you.”
“Thanks for trying to cheer me up,” Evan said glumly. He was still pulling tiny, clinging clumps of the Monster Blood off his hands and tossing them into the bucket.
“I was watching a video before you came over. The first Indiana Jones movie. Want to watch it?”
Evan shook his head. “No. I’d better go. Aunt Kathryn was busy making dinner when I left. Chopping up some kind of meat. Another great dinner, sitting there in silence, being stared at by Aunt Kathryn and her cat.”
“Poor Evan,” Andy said, half teasing, half sympathetic.
He picked up the bucket, now only two-thirds full, and let her walk him to the front door. “Call me later, okay?” she asked.
He nodded and stepped outside. She closed the door behind him.