30 - It Came from Beneath the Sink (7 page)

“Gross!” I screamed, pulling my foot back up.

“Are you okay?” Daniel called from above. He sounded ten miles away.

“Yeah,” I shouted back. “I think I stepped in a pile of slime. Wow, it’s
really dark down here.”

I carefully touched my feet down again, and gripped the ladder tightly with
one hand—afraid I would never find my way back if I let go.

It’s too dark, I realized. I’ll never find the Grool down here.

Then I heard it.

Whoa-ahhh. Whoa-ahhhh.

Breathing!

Whoa-ahhh. Whoa-ahhhh.

The Grool! But where?

I held my breath and stood completely still. I concentrated really hard,
trying to figure out exactly where in the inky blackness the breathing came
from.

Whoa-ahhh. Whoa-ahhhh.

Somewhere to my right?

I knew I had to walk over there and snatch the Grool. But I was afraid to let
go of the ladder. Finally, I decided to count my steps there, find the Grool—then count the same number of steps back to the ladder.

I swallowed hard and let go of the ladder. I stepped into the blackness and
started counting.

“One… two… three… four…”

The breathing sounded a little closer.

“Five… six…”

I stopped. I listened hard.

“Huh?” I cried to myself. “What’s that scratching sound?” Then I saw the
eyes. Not the Grool’s small, round eyes. Big, bright eyes. Several pairs of
them. All glowing at me in the dark.

The scratching grew louder. The eyes stared up at me.

Yellow eyes. Glowing in the darkness.

I heard a creature scrabble over the floor. Felt something warm and furry
brush against my leg.

Were they raccoons? Rats?

I didn’t want to know.

Another one brushed against me. They were all starting to scrape around on
the sewer floor. They were growing restless.

I forced myself to breathe.

Turned.

And started to run.

Get me out of here! I thought. Get me out of here before they attack!

My sneakers slid over the damp, slimy floor.

“Please let me find my way out of here,” I prayed as I stumbled through the
darkness.

“Oww!”

My knee slammed into something hard.

I cried out and reached for something to lean on.

And caught hold of the ladder.

“Yes! Yes!” I cried happily.

Ignoring my throbbing knee, I scrambled up the slimy rungs. Up, up, up toward
the light.

“Daniel—help me out!” I cried.

Daniel leaned down and grabbed my hands. He helped pull me out of that awful
hole.

I fell on to the pavement and nearly sobbed with relief.

Daniel dropped down next to me. “Did you get it?” he asked eagerly. “Did you
find it?”

I wiped my sludge-covered hands on my jeans. “No,” I told him. “No Grool.”

“I
should have gone down there,” he declared. “I definitely would have
found it.”

“You definitely would have been terrified!” I replied angrily. “There were
animals down there. Rats, maybe. Dozens of them.”

“Yeah. Sure,” he said, rolling his eyes. He sighed.
“Now
what do we
do?” He kicked a pebble across the street.

I sighed. “Don’t worry—we’ll find the Grool.”

“But how?” he cried. “We can’t even find Killer. We’ll never find a little
sponge.”

I had never seen Daniel this upset. “Daniel, the police will find Killer. I
know they will,” I said softly.

“We must have missed the sponge,” he said, ignoring my words. “We have to check everywhere again.”

We started to search again. In the street. In the grass. Behind hedges. Under
trees.

Carlo appeared as we were about to give up. He was walking fine. He examined
his mangled bike. Then he helped us with our search.

The afternoon sun was settling behind the trees. The air felt cooler. Evening
was approaching.

I sank down on the sidewalk, feeling totally hopeless.

The warning in the encyclopedia kept running through my mind. Was it
possible? Could it be true? If we didn’t find the Grool, would my life really be
over by tomorrow?

“There it is!”

Daniel’s excited shout interrupted my frightening thoughts.

“There it is!” my brother cried happily. “I see it! I see the Grool!”

Daniel took off, running full speed.

“Way to go!” My heart pounding, I leaped up from the sidewalk. “You are the
most awesome brother in the entire universe!”

I was so excited and happy, I threw my arms around Carlo. “He saved my life!”
I shouted. “He saved my life!”

“Hey—give me a break!” Carlo cried, squirming away.

I hurried after Daniel. I watched him bend down to pick up something.
Something small and round and brown.

But a gust of wind rolled the Grool away from him.

“Hey—!” he cried out. He stumbled after it. The wind blew it out of his
reach again.

“Got you!” Daniel cried, pouncing on it.

“Bring it here!” I yelled.

“Oh, wow,” he murmured. His face fell. “Sorry about that. It’s not the
Grool.”

I grabbed the thing from his hands. “No, it’s not,” I whispered sadly.

Not the Grool. Only a brown paper bag, all wadded up in a ball.

Daniel hurled the paper bag to the ground and stomped on it.

My stomach lurched. I really felt sick.

Time is running out, I thought. And we have no idea where the Grool might be.

A tear came to my eye, and I blinked it away quickly. I didn’t want Daniel
and Carlo to see how scared I was.

The panic rose in my chest. Would I really die if we didn’t find that evil
creature?

I suddenly pictured Mom and Dad sitting around crying and missing me. I
pictured Aunt Louise wailing, “It’s all my fault. I didn’t believe her.”

I imagined Daniel walking to school all alone.

I gazed down at my brother, who slumped sadly on the curb with Carlo.

And I had a truly terrifying idea. Maybe the Grool
wasn’t
lost.

Maybe the creepy little creature had decided to
hide.

To hide from me.

So it could perform its most evil trick of all.

Hide for twenty-four hours so that I’d have the ultimate bad luck.

Death!

Carlo startled me by jumping to his feet. His dark eyes glowed excitedly. “I—I have an idea!” he cried.

“An idea?” I demanded. “What kind of idea?”

He smiled at me and
grabbed my arm. “Come on. Hurry. I think I know where the Grool might be!”

“You know those guys who raced me?” Carlo asked, tugging me forward along the
street. “The ones who hang out at the playground?”

“Yeah. What about them?” I asked.

“I’ll bet one of them picked up the Grool. I kind of remember—”

Daniel didn’t even wait for Carlo to finish the sentence. “Let’s go!” he
shouted. He sprang onto his bike and raced off toward the playground.

I picked up my bike and started pedaling after my brother. Carlo ran behind
us, calling, “Wait up! Wait up!”

We pedaled to the playground and walked our bikes to the baseball field.
That’s where the older kids usually hang out.

“There they are,” Carlo said. He pointed to a group of boys taking turns
batting and fielding balls.

“Carlo,” Daniel whispered nervously. “Those guys are really big. They look like they’re in high school.”

I spotted two older boys standing on the side of the baseball field. Their
heads were bent, and they were staring at something in the taller boy’s hands.

Something small and round and brown.

The Grool!

I ran up to them. “Hey, how’s it going?” I said in my friendliest voice. “I
know this sounds dumb, but you’ve got my favorite sponge. Can I have it back?”

The tall boy narrowed his eyes at me. He was kind of good-looking, with
bright green eyes, and straight blond hair down over his shoulders.

“Your favorite sponge?” he repeated. He grinned. “Sorry. You’re mistaken.
This is
my
favorite sponge.”

“No. Really,” I insisted. “It fell off that kid’s bike.” I pointed to Carlo.
He and Daniel stood watching from a distance. “I really need it.”

“Can you prove it’s yours?” the boy demanded. He rolled it around in his
hand. “I don’t see your name on it.”

I narrowed my eyes and gave him my meanest glare. “You’d better give it back
to me,” I threatened. “Because it’s not really a sponge. It’s evil. It brings
bad luck to anyone who has it.”

“Oooh, I’m really scared,” he teased. “Maybe it’s bad luck for you—because you’re not getting it back!”

He waved the Grool in front of my face, then called to his friend, “Hey,
Dave. Catch!”

He tossed the Grool to Dave. “Here,” he snickered. “Catch some bad luck!”

“Hey, give me that!” I leaped for the Grool. But the sponge sailed high over
my head.

Back and forth they threw the Grool, laughing, keeping it high over my head,
out of my reach.

They were having fun. I wasn’t.

After ten minutes of their stupid keep-away game, I gave up.

Fine, I thought. Let them play with the Grool.

They would soon find out that it didn’t play fair, I thought nastily.

As I backed off, I shouted at the two older boys, “You’ll be sorry.”

The blond guy shrugged his shoulders, laughed, and hurried off to take his
turn at bat. He made a big show of tucking the sponge into his back pocket—where he knew I couldn’t get it.

He stepped to the plate, crouched in a batter’s stance…

Thwock!

The very first pitch beaned the guy in the head.

His eyes rolled around wildly. He wobbled, then sank to the ground. He
collapsed in a heap and didn’t move.

“Help!” the other boys were shouting. “Somebody—help!”

The Grool had done its work. The bad luck had struck again!

“Is he okay?” Daniel asked. “Is he—?”

I didn’t answer. I saw the Grool roll out of the boy’s back pocket and onto
the ground.

I darted forward and dove for the evil sponge.

But my hands closed around dry grass.

Dave, the blond boy’s friend, snatched the Grool before I could reach it.

“Go chase it!” he cried. He heaved the little creature high into the sky.

I made a desperate grab. But Dave was much taller than me. He caught the
Grool easily.

“Here. Take it,” he said. He tossed it at me. Then he hurried over to check
on his friend.

The blond boy was sitting up now, rubbing his head. “I’m okay,” he kept
repeating. “Really. I’m okay. What hit me?”

Daniel and I hurried to our bikes. Carlo came running after us. I tossed the
Grool into my bike basket.

The sponge creature pulsed so violently that the basket shook as I rode. Its
body changed from red to black, red to black, changing in time to its horrible
breathing.

Ba-boom. Ba-boom.

It snickered with joy.

Heh, heh, heh.

It acted so pleased with itself. So happy it had knocked the blond boy out.

“You’re disgusting!” I shouted. “I’m taking you home and locking you in that
cage!”

I pedaled rapidly, standing up for an extra boost of speed. Home, I thought.
Get me home.

I zoomed down Oak Street, hunching over the bike with my head down. Faster,
faster I pedaled.

The wind whipped my hair into my eyes.

I heard Daniel calling out from behind me.

But I was riding too fast. The wind rushed past me. I couldn’t make out
Daniel’s words.

I heard him call out again.

And then I heard the blare of a horn and the shrill squeal of brakes.

I turned around in time to see an enormous black and silver truck skidding
over the street, about to crush me like a bug.

I squeezed my brakes hard.

The truck skidded up behind me, tires scraping the pavement, horn blaring.

My bike lurched to a stop—and I tumbled off.

Hit the pavement hard on my elbows and knees.

The bike bounced on to the curb. Toppled over.

I rolled on to the grass.

As the truck swerved away. Squealed to a stop.

Missed me by less than a foot.

I climbed shakily to my feet. And stood there on the side of the road, too
terrified to move.

I turned to see the truck driver toss open the door of his cab. “What were
you doing in the middle of the street?” he shouted at me. “I could have killed
you! Do your parents know you’re out here like this?”

Great, I thought bitterly. First this guy almost squashes me into a pancake—then he yells at me.

“Sorry!” I called.

What else could I say?

I waited for the truck driver to back up and drive away.

And all the time, I kept thinking: Bad luck forever. I’m going to have bad
luck forever.

I called to Daniel and Carlo that I was okay. Then I raced down Oak Street
and turned on to Maple.

Only two houses to go, I thought. I pushed down harder on the pedals.

Blam!

My front tire hit something. A broken bottle, I think.

The bike toppled on to its side, and I fell with it.

“Ow!” I cried. I’m spending a lot of time on the ground, I realized.

I examined the tire. Completely shredded.

Bad luck. Bad luck forever.

Heh, heh, heh.
I heard the Grool’s wicked laugh.

The sound filled me with rage. I kicked the bicycle and stubbed my toe on the
metal wheel rim.

“Oww!” I yelped, grabbing my foot.

Bad luck. Bad luck forever.

With a furious cry, I grabbed the evil sponge and flung it to the ground.
Then I jumped back on my bike and started to run over the Grool.

Back and forth, back and forth.