I walked slowly down the steps and followed them out of the school. I didn’t know what to say to them.
None of us spoke until we were a block away from home. Then my father broke the silence. “I don’t understand what happened today. You aren’t dumb, Al,” he said.
“I knew Galileo, didn’t I?” I mumbled. “I got more points than anyone else, didn’t I?”
“But you should have been able to answer every question,” Dad replied.
“I’m disappointed in Al’s performance, too,” my mother said. “But all the kids had a difficult time this afternoon. It was their first Science Bowl. They were all nervous.”
“Michelle did brilliantly in her first Science Bowl,” my father pointed out. “A little nervousness gets the juices flowing—as long as you know your stuff. And Al obviously didn’t.”
We turned into our driveway. “Your father and I have to go back to work,” my mother said. “You stay in your room and think about what happened this afternoon. We’ll talk about it when we get home.”
“We have to make sure this never happens again,” my father added. “If you aren’t careful, you’ll ruin your chances of getting into a good college.”
College! I probably wouldn’t make it through the sixth grade after what the ooze had done to me.
I watched my parents climb in their cars and drive off. Then I headed up to the house. I turned the doorknob and pulled. The door wouldn’t open.
I pulled on it again—as hard as I could. It still wouldn’t open.
Then I turned the doorknob and pushed. The door flew open and I stumbled inside.
My pulse thudded in my ears. I could hardly remember how to open a door. What was I going to do?
I walked down the hall to my room and sat down on my bed. Tubby wandered in and jumped up next to me.
I noticed a magazine on my nightstand. It had a photo of a pair of in-line skates on the cover. I tried to read the name of the magazine. But after the S I gave up and threw the magazine on the floor.
I flopped back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. The ooze had destroyed my life. I couldn’t read. I couldn’t think clearly. I couldn’t open a door.
Mr. Emerson was furious at me. My science teacher, Mr. Gosling, probably felt humiliated.
And my parents—my parents thought I was a total loser.
I didn’t even want to think about what Michelle would say to me when she heard how I blew it at the Science Bowl.
But here was the worst thing—four other kids touched the ooze. Their lives would be ruined, too. And it was all my fault.
How stupid were we going to get? I wondered.
I decided I really didn’t want to think about it anymore.
I didn’t want to think about what else could happen to us before the ooze completely destroyed our brains.
I didn’t want to think about it—because I had absolutely no way to stop it.
15
Buzz.
I sat up in bed and listened.
Buzz. There it was again.
I should do something when I hear that sound. But what?
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
I left my room and followed the noise—to the front door.
“Al, let me in!”
It was Colin.
The doorbell. That’s what the buzzing sound was—the doorbell. And when you hear the doorbell, you open the door, I told myself.
I pulled open the front door—on the first try!—and Colin rushed in. His face was red and sweaty. He must have run all the way from school.
“It was the ooze, wasn’t it?” Colin asked, panting.
I nodded. “Everyone in the Science Bowl touched it. Now they’re dumb, too.”
“What are you going to do?” Colin exclaimed.
“I don’t know,” I moaned. “I have to find some way to get our brains back. But I’m too stupid to figure out how!”
“Don’t worry,” Colin said. “I’ll help you.”
What could Colin do? He was smarter than I was now. But that didn’t make him smart enough to solve this problem.
“We have to kill the ooze,” Colin declared.
“Wait,” I said. I knew there was something wrong with that idea. But what? “Wait. If you kill the ooze . . . maybe you would kill our brains with it.”
“Oh, yeah,” Colin answered. He shut his eyes. His forehead wrinkled as he thought.
Then his eyelids popped open and he smiled. “I have a plan. We have to, um, what’s that word? I know I got it right on the science quiz.”
“Don’t ask me,” I told him.
“Neutralize!” Colin burst out. “That’s it. We have to neutralize the ooze.”
“Neutralize?” I repeated. That word sounded familiar. But I had no idea what it meant.
“We find a chemical and add it to the ooze, and then the ooze loses its power,” Colin explained. “Maybe if you touch it after we neutralize it, you’ll get your brains back. Come on. Let’s go down to the basement.”
What Colin said seemed to make sense—but, then, what did I know? I was stupid.
“The first thing we’ll do is get a little piece of the ooze,” Colin said, racing down the basement steps. “Then we can try different chemicals on it until we figure out what will neutralize it.”
Colin hurried over to the cooler. He dragged it from under the table. Then he reached for the lid.
“Stop!” I yelled. “Open it only a little,” I warned him.
“Okay, okay,” he replied. He opened the lid a crack.
Thud-thud. Thud-thud.
What was that? It was a familiar sound, I knew that. One I’d heard a million times.
Thud-thud. Thud-thud.
A heartbeat! That’s it! A heartbeat!
But it wasn’t my heartbeat.
I broke out into a cold sweat.
I inched up behind Colin. He opened the lid a little wider. I leaned down and peered inside.
Deep in the center of the ooze I saw it. A heart. Bigger than my fist. Much bigger. With tangles of thick twisted veins running through it.
The hideous heart pumped and pumped. The huge veins throbbed with every thud-thud.
“A heart!” Colin gasped. “It grew a heart!”
Bam!
Without warning, the ooze exploded out of the cooler in a giant wave. It crashed against the lid, sending it flying across the room.
Colin jerked me back as the quivering orange mass sprang from the cooler. It landed on the floor in front of us with a horrible plop.
Then it started to grow. And grow.
It grew so fast, we could see it happening.
“H-how is it doing that?” Colin stammered.
“I-I don’t know,” I replied. “But it’s not stopping.”
The ooze stood at least four feet high now. A big orange mound—shaking and rolling.
We backed up. The ooze shimmied forward.
Does it know we’re here? Can it sense us somehow?
I took another step backward and—screech! I stepped on Chester. I didn’t even know he was down here with us.
Chester raced past me—and headed straight for the ooze.
“Chester, no!” I screamed. “No!”
The cat skidded to a stop inches away from the slime. He whirled around.
But he wasn’t fast enough. The ooze rose in another wave. Then it crashed over Chester—and trapped him inside its quivering walls.
I watched in horror as Chester tried to fight his way out. The ooze bulged and stretched as he slammed against it.
One of his claws slashed through the slime. But the ooze quickly sucked it in again.
Then Chester’s head broke free. He twisted and jerked, struggling to push his body out of the throbbing trap.
I lunged toward the cat—to try to pull him out.
Colin grabbed my arm. “Don’t!” he ordered. “You can’t help him. The ooze will get you, too!”
Chester uttered a long wail that made the hair on my
arms stand straight up. I could hardly watch as the ooze spread back up over Chester’s head. Over his eyes. His nose. His mouth.
Chester gave a last strangled yowl as the ooze let out a horrible slurping sound. Then Chester was gone.
Smothered by the ooze. Totally smothered.
My knees trembled hard. I pressed myself against the wall so I wouldn’t collapse.
My eyes remained glued to the quivering mass as it slowly slid across the floor, slithering right by us.
“Hey! Look!” I cried out. “Look!”
The ooze left a slimy trail in front of us. And in the middle of it sat Chester.
It let him go! It let him go! Chester was alive!
“Here, Chester!” I called.
Chester didn’t move.
“Come here, kitty-kitty,” I urged. “You’re okay now.”
Chester just sat there. Staring into space with his mouth hanging open. He looked totally out of it—dumbstruck.
Dumbstruck!
“Oh, no!” I moaned when I realized the truth. “Oh, no! Chester’s completely dumb. Completely dumb! The ooze sucked out all of Chester’s brain! All of it!”
“Look!” Colin croaked, pointing to the horrible slime.
The ooze had stopped in its tracks.
It began to shake really hard now.
“It’s going to explode!” Colin screamed. “It’s going to explode! Run! Run!”
But I couldn’t run. I couldn’t move. I could only stare at the horrible ooze, shaking wildly now—and starting to stretch! Stretching straight up. Higher and higher.
My jaw dropped as it grew. I could see its hideous heart, hammering away, as it rose up, taller and taller. Ten feet tall now.
Then, with a sickening thwack, two huge bubbles appeared on each side of it.
They began to stretch, too—stretch out. Out to the sides. Out, out, out.
“Wh-what’s it doing?” Colin stammered.
“I-I think it’s growing arms.” I gaped in fear. “It—it is. It’s growing arms!”
“Oh, no,” Colin croaked. “Hands, too.”
Hands. Two wet, glowing hands sprang out from the long, moist arms.
And then we both gasped—as eight fingers grew from each hand. Long, glowing fingers that began to snake out.
Snake toward us.
Reaching. Reaching. Reaching—for our throats.
16
“Nooooo!” I screamed. “Nooooo!”
The ooze’s glowing fingers stretched until they were inches from my face. Then they stopped.
Colin grabbed my arm and pointed to the creature’s body. “I don’t think it can move now that it’s changed shape,” he whispered. “I think it’s stuck to the floor.”
I stared at the neon-orange body. Colin was right. The bottom of the ooze was rooted to its spot. Its hands couldn’t reach any closer.
“Let’s get out of here!” I cried. “Now!”
Colin and I edged away from the ooze. I trained my eyes on the creature—careful to stay out of its grasp.
Then I froze in horror.
“L-look, Colin. Look.” A round bubble was forming on the top of the ooze. “It—it’s growing a head.”
My heart pounded as the bubble grew and grew, then tore open in two spots—forming empty, staring eyes.
With another rip a huge hole opened, forming a hideous, gaping mouth.
But the worst part was the brain.
The ooze had a massive brain.
I could see it pushing, pulsating against the top of the creature’s head. Straining against its slimy skull.
“Come on!” Colin yanked on my arm. “Let’s go!”
But I didn’t move.
I stood there—frozen. And watched as the horrible ooze creature began to grow legs.
“Run!” Colin screamed. “Run!” He grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the steps.
We charged up the stairs and into the kitchen.
Squish. Squish.
Oh, no! He’s following us. He’s following us!
“We have to hide!” I cried. “Hide!”
Squish. Squish.
“It’s here!” Colin screamed. “It’s here!”
The ooze creature stepped into the kitchen with one of its slimy orange feet.
“This way!” I shouted to Colin.
We raced into the living room and down the hall.
I ran past the linen closet. The linen closet—a good place to hide, I thought. “I’ll hide here!” I told Colin, backing up. “You hide in my room!”
I ducked inside and closed the closet door. I heard Colin race into my room.
I stood in the hot, dark closet, panting. Gasping for air.
Squish. Squish.
He’s coming! He’s coming down the hall! Please don’t let him find me. Please don’t let him find me, I repeated over and over.
Squish. Squish.
The sickening sounds grew louder—closer.
Squiiish.
The creature slid to a stop—right outside the door.
I grabbed the doorknob with my trembling hands. Ready to bolt.
I waited. But nothing happened.
I listened. Total silence.
What is it doing out there? What?
Why isn’t it opening the door? It has hands. It can open the door. Why isn’t it doing it?
I pressed my ear against the closet door.
Silence.
Where is it? What is it doing?
I know! It can’t open the door, I realized. Its hands are too slimy. They’re probably slipping right off the doorknob.
Yes! I silently cheered. Yes! It can’t get in!
Then I felt it. Something hot and squishy soaking through my socks.
I gazed down—and gasped.
The ooze! It was sliding under the door!
And rising higher and higher each second.
I turned the doorknob and pulled. The door was stuck!
I pounded on the door with both fists. I clawed it with my fingernails.
“Open!” I screamed. “Open, open, open!”
The ooze reached my knees now. And it was rising faster and faster. My feet felt as if they were cemented to the floor. I jiggled my legs, trying to keep them moving in the horrible slime.
I grabbed the knob and pulled again. Pulled with all my strength as the ooze bubbled up to my waist. Trapping me in its cold, wet body.
“Open! Open!” I screamed at the door again and again.
And then I remembered—I pushed the door, and it swung open, shoving aside a glob of ooze that still remained in the hallway.
With a huge burst of strength I broke out of the slimy mass that surrounded me. I raced to my bedroom.
“Wh-where is it?” Colin stammered from under my desk.
“It’s—”
“Here!” Colin finished my sentence.
I spun around.
There it stood, right outside the door—fully formed and bigger than ever. At least twelve feet tall now—with hair!
The creature had grown hair—black wiry hair that sprang out of its entire orange body.
“Oh, gross!” Colin moaned, pushing himself farther under my desk.
The long hairs quivered, quivered madly, as the creature slowly bent his legs and ducked through the doorway.
“No,” my voice cracked. “No.”
“Its head!” Colin whispered. “Look at its head!”
I stared at the monster’s head. It was huge—bigger than a basketball. And an enormous brain bulged out of it. Pulsed against its sides—as if it was way too big for its head.
My heart pounded in my chest as I backed away.
The creature stared at me with its empty eye sockets. Then I watched in horror as its gaping hole of a mouth slowly opened.
“Do not move, human,” its deep voice rumbled. “Do not move. There is no escape now.”
17
“L-leave us alone.” I stammered. “Leave us alone.”
“Oh, no. It talks, too,” I heard Colin croak as the creature oozed forward.
“You have done very well,” the creature spoke to me. “You followed the instructions—and you brought me to life. A good plan, don’t you agree?”
“I-I don’t understand,” I stuttered.
“I will explain,” the creature replied. “And then I must leave—with your brain.”
I knew I didn’t want to hear this, but I also knew I had no choice. My whole body trembled as I listened.
“My planet needs human brains,” the creature started. “Smart human brains. To give us expanded brain power. The question was—where to find them? Chemistry sets!” the creature exclaimed. “Smart humans use chemistry sets.”
The alien creature slid forward. “So we slipped those instructions into chemistry sets all over Earth. And you did the rest. A clever plan—wasn’t it?”
The creature didn’t wait for an answer. “Enough explaining,” it declared. “Now it is time for me to take the rest of your brain.”
“Noooo!” I cried out. “No way!”
What should I do? What should I do? Think! Think! I told myself.
And then it came to me. RUN!
I dodged around the oozing alien and ran into the hall.
Squish. Squish.
The ooze creature chased after me. Sliding down the hall. Moving fast now. Incredibly fast.
I reached the living room and headed for the front door. Pull it open. Pull it open, I reminded myself, reaching out for the doorknob.
I twisted the doorknob—and pulled.
The door swung open—yes!
But it was too late.
The ooze shot out a hot, sticky hand and grabbed me.
“Let go of me!” I yelled. The creature lifted me right off my feet. “Let go of me!”
I twisted and turned in the ooze’s strong grip.
Tubby charged out of the kitchen—racing in to rescue me!
He ran at the creature. He ran right into him! Right into the sticky ooze.
The creature dropped me as its slimy body wrapped itself around Tubby. “Oh, no! Oh, no!” I cried out. Poor Tubby! He was trapped inside those hideous quivering walls.
I stared in horror as Tubby tried to claw his way out. But it was no use. There was no escape.
And then, suddenly, the creature stiffened. It arched its body, and Tubby came flying out!