Night of the Giant Everything
I wrapped my hand around it. The toothbrush felt so heavy. I had to hold it in both hands.
Whoa. Wait. Wait …
My head barely poked above the sink. I couldn’t reach the faucet.
I didn’t want to believe it. But I had no choice.
I stood there, my whole body trembling. My teeth began to chatter in fear. The toothbrush was almost as big as a baseball bat!
“I … can’t be shrinking,” I murmured. My voice came out so tiny and high.
“I can’t be shrinking. That’s impossible — right?”
That’s when the clothes fell off my body. My jeans fell to the floor and sagged around me. My T-shirt slid off and puddled around my ankles.
I stood there totally naked and stared up at the sink high above my head.
“It’s impossible — right? I can’t be shrinking.”
10
I stepped away from the pile of my clothes. My socks were as big as our laundry bags.
I hugged myself to try to keep from trembling. I stood there, naked, staring up at the bottom of the sink high above me.
I felt totally strange. My heart was beat-beat-beating like I had a hummingbird inside me. A water drip in the sink made me jump. The loud noise rang like a bell clanging.
I hugged myself tighter. I was numb with fright. I mean, my skin felt cold and numb. I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering.
How short am I? I wondered.
I turned. I was standing beside the bathroom scale. It was too tall to step up on. I had to hoist myself up using both hands.
How much did I weigh? I stood on the scale. But I was too light to make it go down. The dial showed zero.
That sent a shudder down my already cold back.
I hopped down from the scale. I couldn’t tell how tall I was. Maybe six inches tall, maybe eight or nine.
Did it matter?
I thought Ava and Courtney were my friends. But they gave me chemicals that made me shrink. They poisoned me!
Okay, okay. I took a deep breath and held it. But it didn’t help me fight back my panic.
Okay. They wanted revenge. But how could they do this to me? How?
Then a question flashed into my panicked mind. A question that sent shivers of fear down my tiny body.
Was I going to be a tiny person for the rest of my life?
11
No. Impossible.
I had to get back to my normal size. I had to sit down and think.
I had to get to my room. I had to figure out something. Make a plan. Do something!
And I had to find something to wear.
I ran out of the bathroom. My feet slapped the floor tiles but barely made a sound.
Out into the hall. The purple carpet was thick and tall. It came up over my ankles and scratched my legs.
I saw my sneakers halfway down the hall. They looked like big boats riding on a purple lake.
What can I wear?
I couldn’t walk around naked.
I stepped into my room. The bed rose up like a mountain. I had to crane my neck to see to the top of my bookshelves.
I’d left a pile of dirty clothes on the floor. But of course they were all too big. I tried to pull up a white sock. It was almost as tall as me. And too heavy to wrap around me.
I sat down on a bunched-up pair of jeans to think. What could I wear? What would fit me?
I realized that maybe I was staring at the answer. On the bottom bookshelf. My two marionettes.
One was a clown in a red-and-white polka-dot clown costume. That wouldn’t be very good. But the other marionette was a man in a brown business suit.
Of course, I’d look totally lame in a brown business suit made for a puppet. But I was only six or eight inches tall. I really couldn’t be choosy.
I ran to the bookshelf. I kept tripping on the white shag rug.
I lowered my shoulder and pushed through the thicket of wool. It was like fighting my way through a jungle. The wool stuck to my legs and scratched my knees. It seemed to take an hour to reach the shelf.
I fumbled with the two marionettes. They were bigger than I’d thought. It took all my strength to push the clown marionette away.
I reached for the businessman. The puppet was on its back, staring up. The strings were tangled all around it.
I struggled to push the strings away so I could sit the puppet up. Undressing it wasn’t going to be easy.
I tugged off the shiny black shoes. They were made of some kind of plastic. Would they fit me?
Only one way to find out.
I dropped onto the edge of the bookshelf. Gripped the left shoe in both hands—and pulled it on.
Yes! It was my size!
I didn’t celebrate. What a horrifying thought. My foot was the same size as a puppet foot!
I pulled on the other shoe and stood up. I tried walking along the edge of the shelf. The plastic shoes squeaked. They were a little tight. But at least they covered my bare feet.
I tried to stand the puppet up, but I wasn’t strong enough. It was taller than me. I had to try to pull the suit off with the marionette lying on its back.
I dropped to my hands and knees and started to pull off the marionette’s silky suit pants. I grabbed the waist and tried to tug down. But the pants didn’t move.
I pulled harder.
Then I saw that I was wasting my time. The puppet’s strings were nailed to its body. And the nails went through the clothes.
No way could I tug the pants off without ripping them to pieces. Or getting them completely tangled in the strings.
With a sigh, I jumped down off the bookshelf.
There I was, less than ten inches tall, totally naked except for squeaky black plastic shoes. Frantically, I gazed around my room.
What could I wear?
I blinked when I saw the two dolls on the floor at the foot of the bed. It took me a few seconds to remember that my little cousin Mindy had left them there the last time she visited.
I stumbled back through the tall wool of the shag rug. Finally, I stopped and stared at the two dolls. Barbie and Ken.
Barbie was in her doctor outfit—white lab coat and a surgeon’s cap. Her hair was tied back. She had a stethoscope around her neck. And she wore glasses.
Ken wore flashy rock-and-roll clothes. A sparkly silver jumpsuit with a neon blue shirt underneath, open to the waist. Lots of fake gold chains around his neck.
I knew this outfit wasn’t nailed to his body. Because Mindy was constantly changing their outfits. Would Ken’s clothes fit me?
Yes. Actually, the shirt was a little loose. The jumpsuit pants were too long, so I rolled up the bottoms. The gold chains I tossed aside.
Okay, I looked like a total freak. But at least I was dressed.
Now I had to calm down. Concentrate. Get my brain chugging.
Ava and Courtney gave me chemicals to drink. And the chemicals made me shrink.
I had to reach them. I had to find out exactly what they put in that paper cup.
If I knew what I drank, maybe … just maybe … our doctor or someone would know what I could drink to make me tall again.
Okay. I decided to call Ava first.
Gazing up, I saw my cell phone on the bed.
The bed rose over me like Mount Everest. The phone seemed miles away.
I had to reach it. I had to get up there. But how?
12
I grabbed the wooden leg of the bed with both hands. I jumped off the floor and wrapped my legs around it.
I was never a good climber. I could never get to the top of the rope in gym class. And I hated the wall-climbing place at the mall.
But I had to be a good climber now.
Luckily, the little plastic shoes helped. They stuck to the wooden leg and held tight as I worked my way slowly up.
My hands were sweaty. I’d climb a few inches. Plant my feet. Reach up another few inches. But my damp hands kept sliding back down.
Halfway up, I made t
he mistake of looking down to the floor.
“Whoooaa!”
I’ve always had a problem with heights.
Now I felt dizzy. The room was spinning. I gripped the leg tightly and returned my gaze to the top of the bed.
Still a long way to go.
I raised my hands. Clamped them around the leg. Pushed up with the plastic shoes.
To my shock, the shoes slipped. My wet hands started to slide.
I lost my hold and started to drop.
“Noooo!” a shrill scream escaped my throat as I fell straight down.
I made a desperate grab. Swung both hands out.
And gripped the side of the bedspread.
“Yesssss!”
My hands tightened around the heavy red-and-white fabric. My body slammed into the side of the bed. But I held on tight.
I dug the shoes into the bedspread. Raised my hands and started to climb again.
By the time I reached the top of the bed, my whole body was shaking. Sweat poured down my face.
I lay facedown on the bedspread for a minute or two, struggling to catch my breath. I waited for my arms and legs to stop aching from the climb.
Pushing myself up to my knees, I let out a sad sigh. I suddenly pictured myself jumping out of bed in the morning. Or, sitting on the side of the bed, my feet resting on the floor.
Would I ever be able to do those things again? Would getting into bed at night always be like climbing a tall mountain? Would Mom and Dad have to buy me some kind of baby bed or maybe a dog bed to sleep in?
Crazy thoughts. But do you blame me?
I shook myself, trying to force those thoughts away. And I crawled over to the phone.
Up close, it appeared bigger than a suitcase. It’s a flip phone. So the first thing I had to do was flip it open.
I gripped the lid with both hands and pushed. To my surprise, it swung up easily. Yaaay!
The screen lit up with my screen saver—a magician’s top hat with a rabbit poking out of it.
I sighed again. My magic act at school killed. It was awesome. But then Ava and Courtney pulled the best trick of all—making me smaller than a rabbit.
“You’ll be back, Steven,” I said out loud. “This can be fixed. You’ll be back, dude.”
I was trying to cheer myself up. But it didn’t work.
I had to call Ava. I had to know what chemicals she and Courtney put in that cup.
I bent over the phone and lowered my hands to the keyboard. The keys were gigantic—as big as my mom’s pancakes.
I leaned forward and started to push Ava’s number.
“Unnnh.” I groaned as I tried to push the speed-dial button down. It didn’t budge.
I leaned closer and spread both hands over it. Then I shoved my hands down with all my strength.
No.
Not happening.
My little hands weren’t strong enough to push the key down.
Now what?
Now what?
I pounded both fists on the button. Pounded furiously. But it wouldn’t click.
I could feel my panic start to choke my throat. I froze staring down at the giant phone keys. Suddenly, I had an idea.
13
I climbed to my feet and stepped onto the phone.
My plastic shoes squeaked as I walked onto the keyboard. I stood on Ava’s speed-dial key. Leaped up—and stomped down on it with all my strength.
Beep. The number clicked.
Then, breathing hard, I jumped on the send key.
A few seconds later, I could hear the ring. It was so loud, I nearly fell off the phone.
It rang once … twice …
I heard a click. And then Ava’s voice. A roar in my tiny ears.
“Steven? Hello?”
“Ava—you’ve got to help me!” I cried.
A pause. Then Ava’s booming voice again: “Hello? Steven? Is that you?”
“Ava—listen to me!” My voice came out squeaky like a mouse. I tried to shout louder. “I need help! I need you to help me!”
“Steven — I can’t hear you,” Ava said. “Are you there? I know it’s you, Steven. Your name came up. Is this a joke?”
“No, Ava—please —” I begged. “Listen harder. It’s not a joke. It’s me.”
“It’s a bad connection,” she said. “I can’t hear a thing. Call me back.”
“NO!” I screamed. “I can’t call you back! It’s too hard. I need your help!”
“Steven? Are you there? Say something!” she shouted. “You’re not funny.”
And then, a deafening click. Like a clap of thunder.
Ava hung up on me.
I dropped to my knees on top of the phone. My head still rang from Ava’s loud voice.
Now what? Wait for Mom and Dad to help me?
I suddenly remembered they were going to be out late tonight. I was supposed to walk to my cousin Mindy’s house and have dinner there.
Mindy could help me. But wait. Her house was at least eight or nine blocks away. At my new size, that could take me days!
Ava lived across the street. A much shorter walk.
Could I make it to Ava’s house? I had no choice. I had to risk it.
My first problem—getting down from the bed. I gazed at the floor again. A mistake. A wave of dizziness made me sit down.
Too far to jump. Even with the shag rug beneath me, I could break every bone in my body.
I sat on the edge of the bed and turned to the bedpost. Could I slide down it like a fire pole?
I might slide too fast and burn all the skin off my little hands.
Could I lower myself slowly and carefully down the bedpost?
That’s what I was thinking when the phone rang.
The sound made me jump. I uttered a startled scream. “AAAAAIIIIH!”
And fell off the bed.
14
I fell feetfirst. My back slid down the side of the bedspread.
WHUMMP.
I landed on my knees and fell face forward into the shag rug.
My breath rushed out in a whoosh. I bounced once, then rolled onto my back, choking and wheezing.
A few seconds later, I pulled myself to my feet. I moved my arms up and down and bent my knees. Testing everything out. No broken bones.
The shag rug saved my life. Now I had pieces of white lint all over the front of my silvery jumpsuit. But I didn’t care. I was in one piece, ready for the next part of my journey.
A difficult task—climbing down the stairs.
I walked past my old sneakers in the middle of the hall. I wished I could wear them. My new plastic puppet shoes were too tight and really pinched my toes.
I stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down. The stairs were steep and stretched straight down, like a deep cavern. At the bottom, I could see the mop and water pail I had tripped over before.
No way I could step down the normal way. My feet just wouldn’t reach.
I realized I had to turn around and lower myself down one step at a time.
“No problem,” I said out loud. “It’s just like climbing down a ladder.”
I was trying to psych myself up again.
Steven, you perform all kinds of magic tricks. Pretend this is a new trick you are doing. Pretend you have an audience watching you, and you want to impress them.
Sure, I could tell myself all kinds of stuff. I could pretend this was as easy as doing a card trick or juggling little red balls.
But when I did magic tricks, I wasn’t exactly risking my life.
I turned my back to the front of the stairs. I lowered myself to my knees. Then I gripped the edge of the top step and slowly … carefully … lowered myself.
I wasn’t tall enough. My feet wouldn’t touch the next step. I had to let go of the step above me and drop onto the lower step.
“Ow.” I landed hard on my plastic shoes and struggled to gain my balance.
One stair down. Many more to go.
I gripped the edge of
the stair above me. The wood was slippery. Mom or Dad must have mopped and polished the stairs.
I tightened my hands on it and carefully lowered myself to the next step.
My heart was pounding. But I felt a little better. It was hard on my arm muscles. But this wasn’t as tough as I thought it would be.
I could do this.
I glanced down at the water bucket again. I moved far to the left. I wanted to make sure I didn’t come anywhere near that bucket.
I took a deep breath and gripped the step above me.
I lowered myself carefully, then dropped onto another step. And then another.
A piece of cake. My arms ached. But I was halfway down the stairs.
I lowered myself one more step.
And then opened my mouth in a scream of horror as something grabbed me by the legs.
A giant mouse!
15
“Let GO!” I screamed.
The creature was swallowing me whole!
No. Wait.
I thrashed my arms and kicked at it.
Wait. Not a mouse.
A dust ball. A huge dust ball nearly as tall as me.
Mom and Dad must not have mopped this far.
The thick gray dust clung to my skin, my clothes. I’d dropped right into the middle of it. Now it was holding me prisoner.
I brushed the sticky dry stuff away from my face. Pulled it off the front of my jumpsuit. Kicking and swinging my arms, I pushed out of it.
It clung to my back. I swung around and slapped at it. I couldn’t get free.
I swung my body around again, trying to slip away from it —
—and fell off the step!
I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.
I tumbled onto the next step. My head hit the hard wood with a loud thud.
I shut my eyes as pain bolted through my body. I somersaulted off the step. Hit the next one. Bounced hard.
Smacked my head again on the next step. I let out a groan as my whole body throbbed with pain.
I shoved out both hands, struggling to stop my fall. But I was hurtling too fast now.
I rolled over the edge of another step—
—and SPLASH.