Attack of the Vampire Weenies (7 page)

The second ride was just as rough as the first. The third might have been even rougher.

Zack tried to hold himself still. He struggled to keep from being slammed and bruised, but his strength gave out. Eventually, battered, banged, and slammed, he let go and flopped inside the car, waiting for day. Waiting for light that never came. Waiting for the endless ride to end.

 

CHIRP

Sean Unquist had the
strangest problem: Whenever he said, “Chirp,” he turned into a bird. He didn't stay a bird for more than a moment, and he didn't always turn into the same kind of bird, but he always turned into some kind of bird.

As inconvenient as this was, Sean realized he was lucky. He rarely said
chirp
by accident. If the word that changed him had been
hello, feather,
or some other common word, Sean knew he'd have been in a lot more trouble.

He'd been by himself the first time it happened, and had kept this secret to himself forever. His parents didn't know. His brothers and sisters didn't know. His best friend didn't know. But the secret needed to be shared. And when Jennifer Marie Starkholder moved in right across the street from him, Sean knew he'd found the perfect person to share his secret. Jennifer looked—well, she just looked so understanding.

And she obviously loved birds. She owned seven different shirts with pictures of birds—Sean had counted—along with a lunch box decorated with cardinals, earrings in the shape of hummingbirds, and a variety of bird drawings on her book covers.

The very first time Sean met her, as soon as he saw the lunch box, the earrings, and the first of those seven shirts, he almost blurted out his secret. But he'd waited. He wanted to tell her, but he was afraid she'd laugh at him and walk away. He couldn't imagine anything worse than that.

Finally, a month after she arrived, he spotted her filling the bird feeder by her living room window. He crossed the street, went up to her, and said, “I turn into a bird.” He held his breath and watched her expression, hoping she wouldn't laugh in his face.

Jennifer didn't laugh. She didn't tell him he was imagining things. She didn't mock him or sneer. Instead, she said, “How does it happen?”

“I just say…” Sean paused. He didn't want to become a bird in front of the house, where anyone might see.

“Let's go into my backyard,” Jennifer said.

Sean followed her around the side of the house. It was a nice yard, with a small birdbath and two more bird feeders. Like his own yard, it was surrounded with bushes. Strangers wouldn't see him become a bird. Sean checked to make sure Jennifer was watching him. He was pleased that he had her full attention.

“Chirp,” he said.

He became a sparrow and stayed that way for about a minute. That's how long the change usually lasted.

“See,” Sean said when he became a boy again.

“I see,” Jennifer said. “I love birds so much. Did you know that sparrows give themselves dust baths? But they aren't afraid of water. People have actually seen them swim underwater. Isn't that amazing?”

“Yeah, it sure is,” Sean said.

“Do it again. It would be wonderful to see something rare.”

Sean did it again. He became a stork.

“Again, please,” Jennifer said.

Sean became a robin, and then a crow, and then a goldfinch. Jennifer told him fascinating facts about each bird and asked him to keep going.

“There are birds I've heard about but never seen,” she said.

“I don't know if this is such a good idea,” Sean told her. “I might become a hawk and attack you. Some birds have razor-sharp claws.” He flinched at the idea of scratching her.

Jennifer shook her head. “I feel safe with you. I'm sure you'd never hurt me. Keep changing.”

Sean kept changing.

“There we go,” Jennifer said after one of the changes. “Finally.”

Sean couldn't answer. He couldn't talk when he was a bird.

“An auk,” Jennifer said. “Just what I was waiting for. A nice plump bird that can't fly. No dangerous claws. No sharp beak. How lovely,” she said, clapping her hands together and smiling. “But, Sean, you aren't as special as you think. I have a word that changes me, too.”

Jennifer knelt on the lawn and grinned at Sean. The grin became a laugh. Then she opened her mouth and said, “Meow.”

“Awk!” Sean screeched as the cat pounced.

Jennifer Marie Starkholder had a secret. And a meal.

 

BRUJA

Stella is the meanest
sister in the world. She got even meaner after I killed her neon tetras last month. All five of them. It wasn't my fault. I didn't want to feed her fish while she was at camp, but she told me I had to. She knows I have a hard time remembering stuff. Mom is always nagging me to pick up my clothes, and Dad has to remind me to do my chores.

Maybe I should have put the can of fish food in my room where I'd see it. I didn't know they'd die that quickly. I didn't even know they were dead until I heard the scream from her room the day she got back.

“You let them die!” She stormed down the stairs and chased after me.

Mom saved me. But Stella has been glaring at me ever since then. I know she's thinking up some terrible way to get even. And I know it won't happen for a while. I've seen Stella in action. When someone gets her angry, she thinks and plots and waits until the perfect moment. And then she does terrible things.

It was bad enough when we were at home. At least I knew how to keep out of her way. But we're on vacation this week. Dad took us all to Mexico—me, Stella, Mom, and my little brother, Kaleb.

It's not as much fun as it sounds. Everything is hot and sticky and strange. We'd spent a couple days in Mexico City, but now we're in this small town with a name I can't pronounce. The name has three
x
's in it, and five letters in a row without a vowel. Mom and Dad were going to take a tour of some caves to see these stupid old paintings. I didn't want to go, but I didn't want to stay in the room with Stella.

“Can I go to the
mercado
?” I asked. That's what they call a store here. There was a shop right down the block from the hotel.

Mom looked at Dad. Dad looked at Mom. They both looked at me. “I'll be careful,” I said.

“It's safe here,” Dad said to Mom.

Mom nodded.

“Okay,” Dad said.

“Thanks.” I headed out for the shop. There wasn't much to see, but there was no way I was going back into the room with Stella. Not when my parents weren't around to keep her from getting her revenge.

Then, when I was in the far corner of the shop, looking at these really scary masks, I saw her come in through the front door. She hadn't spotted me yet. I slipped out a side door.

Where to go?

I walked down the street, away from the hotel. Half a block later, a little boy ran up to me. I got ready to tell him I didn't have any money. That wasn't true. Mom always made me carry a couple dollars. Or pesos, I guess. But there were lots of beggar kids in the city, so I expected this kid to be like them.

Instead, he said, “You are worried.”

“What?”

“Worried. Yes?”

He had an accent, but I could understand him.

I nodded, unsure how safe it was to talk with a stranger—even if he was half my size.

“The
bruja
—she can help you.”

“Bruja?”

He nodded and pointed down the street. “Come—it isn't far. I'll show you.”

I looked over my shoulder to make sure Stella hadn't left the
mercado,
then followed him. Two blocks later, he stopped in front of a tiny shop. The building was barely wider than the door.

“In there,” he said.

“You go first.”

He nodded and opened the door. I took a step away from the hot street. The air was definitely cooler inside. An old woman was sitting at a table. There was a second chair on the other side.

The woman said something in Spanish.

“Come,” the boy said. “Tell her your troubles.”

As I spoke, the boy translated my words into Spanish. “My sister hates me. She asked me to feed her fish. I forgot. They died.” I paused after each sentence so he could keep up with me. When I was done, the woman glanced at a row of shelves on the wall behind her, then spoke again.

“There is a way to help,” the boy said.

The woman got up from the table and walked to the shelves. She took down three bottles, poured a couple drops from each into a smaller bottle, then placed that bottle on the table. Each of the three liquids was clear, but the mixture turned black. A smell like licorice and woodsmoke filled the air.

Again, the boy translated when the woman spoke.

“Pour this over the grave of the fish. They will come back to life. Dig them up immediately and put them in water. Your sister will forgive you.”

I stared at the bottle. It didn't seem possible. But maybe that didn't matter. Even if I couldn't bring the dead fish back to life, this would show Stella that I'd tried. And then maybe she'd forgive me.

I felt the crumpled bills in my pants pocket. “How much?”

The woman answered before the boy could translate my words. I guess she knew what I was asking.

“That is up to you,” the boy said.

I put several twenty-peso notes on the table and picked up the bottle.
“Gracias.”
That was about the only word I knew in Spanish, besides
mercado.

“Vaya con Dios,”
the woman said.

I stepped into the brutal light of the outside world and found myself face-to-face with Stella.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “I've been looking all over for you.”

“Nothing.” I put my hand behind my back. I wanted to surprise her when we got home. We could try to save the fish together. If I told her now, she'd probably just stay angry.

“What do you have? Give it to me.” She thrust her hand out.

I turned and ran.

She chased after me.

I was a good runner. I didn't escape, but I managed to stay far enough ahead of her that she couldn't grab me. People stared at us, but nobody did anything to help me. I guess they could tell it was a family thing. I saw a church straight ahead. I ran up the steps and flung open the door. Someone in there would help me.

It was empty. My footsteps echoed on the floor. I raced down the aisle between the bare wood pews.

“I'm gonna get you,” Stella screamed. “You are so dead!”

That gave me another burst of speed. I saw a doorway with stairs to my left. I turned and raced down. The air felt even cooler than in the
bruja
's shop. There was a tunnel ahead, past a brick archway.

Bad idea? Was I trapped? It was too late to worry. I ran ahead. The tunnel turned and twisted. Light flickered. I realized the walls were lined with torches.

I went deeper. This couldn't be just a basement. It seemed to stretch on for a long way. I wasn't even sure we were still under the church.

Someone grabbed my shoulder. I screamed.

Stella. She'd caught me. She spun me around, grabbed my wrist, and stared at my hand.

“You're too young for perfume.” She pried the bottle from my fingers.

I opened my mouth to tell her it wasn't perfume. Then I opened my mouth even wider. I finally took a good look around. The walls—all of them—were made of bones. Arm bones. Leg bones. Skulls. Thousands of bones. Maybe hundreds of thousands.

I pointed. But Stella was so angry, she couldn't see anything but me. “Whatever you buy—I'll destroy it. Whatever you want, I'll take it away. Whatever you care about—I'll ruin it. I'm going to make you miserable for the rest of your life. Starting right now.”

She turned and flung the bottle against the wall of bones.

The glass shattered. Liquid splashed over the skeletons. I guess that's when Stella finally noticed where we were.

She screamed.

The bones moved.

The whole wall rattled like an earthquake had struck. The bones shook like chattering teeth. One by one at first, and then in clusters, they fell from the wall and hit the floor.

But they didn't scatter.

They pulled together.

One of the skeletons stood. It turned toward us. Others joined us. The whole wall collapsed. More skeletons rose from the pile. They blocked the way out.

Stella screamed again. So did I.

“Stupid fish,” I whispered as the skeletons surged toward us, swinging their arms like clubs and snapping their jaws.

I knew I'd never get out of there. Stella was right. I'd be miserable for the rest of my life. That was true for sure, because my life wouldn't last much longer. But at least I didn't have to wonder what Stella would do to punish me for this, because she wasn't getting out of here, either.

 

ELF IMPROVEMENT

The first time he
saw the elf, Gerald was at his desk in the next-to-last row of Ms. Crukshank's fifth-grade classroom, wrestling with the final problem on a math worksheet and enjoying the breeze drifting in through the open window to his left.

As he was double-checking his answer, a motion caught his attention. Gerald was too stunned to do more than make a quiet gurgling sound when the elf scrambled up the side of his desk.

Actually, he wasn't even sure whether the creature was an elf or some other tiny troublemaker like a pixie or a sprite. But that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that Gerald's life suddenly became a lot less fun and a lot more stressful.

The elf, who was dressed in brown pants and a plain white shirt, picked up Gerald's pencil box and threw it out the window. Then he reached up, lifted his green cap from his head, grinned at Gerald, and bowed.