30 - It Came from Beneath the Sink (5 page)

I didn’t feel scared at all. I had to do
something
to make life normal
again. I had to stop all the bad luck.

And if it meant burying a living sponge, fine. As long as I never had to see
that stupid, snickering creature again.

I peered down into the hole. It seemed pretty deep, about as long as my arm.

“I’m finished,” I told my brother. “Pass me the Grool.”

Daniel silently handed the sponge to me.

As I held it over the deep hole, the sponge didn’t throb. It didn’t breathe.
It didn’t even feel warm.

It felt dry and dead, like an ordinary kitchen sponge.

But I knew better.

I dropped the Grool into the hole and watched happily as it tumbled down the
steep dirt sides to the bottom.

Picking up the shovel again, I began throwing dirt onto the creature—heap
after heap.

Dig. Throw. Dig. Throw.

Finally, the hole was filled up. I used the back of the shovel to smooth the
dirt flat. “There,” I said. “No one but us will know the Grool is buried here.”

I lowered my eyes to the soft, wet dirt. “Bye, bye Grool,” I called out
happily. “Daniel, I think our luck is going to change now.”

Daniel didn’t reply.

I spun around. “Daniel? Daniel? Where are you?”

My brother had disappeared.

What had I done?

I dropped the shovel in a panic. “Daniel!” I shrieked. “Where are you?”

Had I made my brother disappear? Did burying the Grool somehow make Daniel
vanish into thin air?

“Daniel? Daniel?” I called in a trembling voice.

I heard a soft rustling sound coming from behind the garage.

I crept quietly toward it. “Daniel,” I whispered. “Is that you?”

No reply.

I peeked behind the garage.

Daniel sat with his arms locked around his knees. Safe and sound.

“Daniel!” I cried. I felt so relieved that I pinched him.

“Cut it out,” he snapped. He leaped to his feet.

“What are you doing back here? I was so worried—I thought the Grool got
you!”

Daniel didn’t reply. He lowered his eyes to the ground.

“Why did you hide?” I demanded.

“I was scared,” he murmured. “I thought the Grool might explode or fight back
or something.”

“You were scared?” I asked. “Why didn’t you at least answer me when I called
you?”

“I thought maybe the Grool was chasing you,” he confessed, his face turning
red.

“Daniel, don’t worry,” I said. The poor guy was really frightened. And
embarrassed that he had hid.

I put both hands on his shoulders. “The Grool is gone. It’s buried deep in
the ground.”

He swallowed hard. “But what if it comes back? What if what the book said
comes true?”

“We’ll never see the Grool again,” I said quietly. “And don’t forget—the
book said Grools don’t really exist. It’s all made up. Just a myth, a fairy
tale.”

Daniel sighed. “I hate to admit it, but you’re right, Kat,” he said. “At
least this time.”

“This
time?” I shot back. “How about all the time?” I slugged Daniel on
the arm.

“Oh, that hurts so much I think I’m going to pass out!” Daniel cried
sarcastically. He fell on to the wet lawn and pretended to faint.

“Come on, let’s go in,” I urged. “You’re getting soaked. And I’m covered with
dirt.”

Daniel scrambled up and elbowed me aside.

“Race you!” he cried, running toward the house.

I leaped up the steps and beat him into the house by about a second. I
slammed the screen door and held it closed, so Daniel couldn’t open it.

“I won!” I shouted.

“Only because I let you,” Daniel cried. He banged on the door.

“Do you want to get in here?” I asked.

Daniel nodded.

“Then say, ‘Kat beat me fair and square’,” I commanded.

“No way!” he replied.

“Stay out there all night, then—with the Groooooooool!” I told him. I let
out a ghostly howl.

“Okay, okay. Kat beat me fair and square,” Daniel grumbled. “But I’ll win
next time!”

Actually, I didn’t really care about the race. I felt so glad that I buried
the Grool, I would have let Daniel win
ten
races.

As we burst into the living room, Mom and Dad raised their eyes from their
newspapers. The house smelled of fresh paint.

“Where were you?” Dad asked.

“Oh, just fooling around in the yard,” I replied.

“Is everything all right?” Mom asked with concern. “You’re filthy!”

“Everything is fine,” I answered. “Now.”

“Okay, go and wash up,” Mom ordered. “Then come into the kitchen.”

Daniel and I crowded into the bathroom, leaned over the sink, pushing and bumping each other, and cleaned ourselves up.

“Do you know what time it is?” Mom asked as I raced back into the kitchen.

“Yes!” I shouted happily. “It’s time for my birthday cake.”

Mom beamed. “Well, sit right down here.”

I dropped excitedly into the chair she offered. Finally, I thought, things
are going right again.

Daniel perched on the chair next to mine. He grabbed my arm. “Something bad
is going to happen,” he whispered. “I know it. I just know it.”

I’m not going to let anything wreck tonight, I thought.

“Don’t be such a wimp,” I whispered. “Everything’s fine.”

At the kitchen counter, Mom hovered over the cake. She touched a match to
each of the thirteen candles—one for each year and an extra one for luck.

What an awesome cake! Mom had ordered it from the bakery down the street. It
had all my favorites: pink frosting roses, chocolate icing, and a layer of
strawberries. A tiny chocolate Ferris wheel sat on top.

“Ready, Kat?” Mom asked. She carried the cake to the table. Her faced glowed
happily in the candlelight. Dad flashed me a big grin.

They all began to sing “Happy Birthday”.

I saw Daniel watching me closely as he sang.

They finished the song. I shut my eyes and made my wishes.

“I wish Killer would come home,” I said to myself. “And I wish the Grool
would never return. And that Daniel is wrong—that nothing bad will happen.”

I leaned forward, closer to the candles, and blew hard.

Pop!

The loud noise from the kitchen nearly made me fall into my cake!

“Boy, that cork was loud!” chirped Mom.

She set down a tray of glasses and a large green bottle. “It’s your
favorite—sparkling apple cider,” she announced. “I know it’s not as good as a day at
WonderPark….”

“Oh, Mom!” I gasped, my heart still pounding. “It’s great. Everything is
going to be great.”

An excellent birthday. Cake, sparkling cider, and presents—two new video
games, a Discman and some CDs, a purple backpack, and a sweatshirt in pink and
purple—my favorite colors.

That night before bed, I stuffed my school books into my new backpack. I
stared at the gerbil cage. Empty and clean—as if the Grool had never even
existed.

I got rid of the disgusting creature, I thought happily. I really did.

My family will finally be safe from bad luck.

The clock in the hall chimed ten. Time for bed. I climbed into my nightshirt and dove under the covers.

When the alarm rang the next morning, I bounced out of bed and ran to the
window to check the weather.

“Oh, nooo!”

I uttered a low moan of horror.

The backyard—it looked like a desert!

Overnight, the grass had all burned brown. All the pink begonias dropped to
the ground, dead and brown. Dad’s red roses had shriveled and turned black.

Poor Dad, I thought. He worked so hard to make the yard beautiful. And, now…

As I stared at the ugly, dead yard, I tried to force the thought from my
mind. But deep down inside, I knew
exactly
how it all happened.

The Grool.

From its grave, the Grool had turned its evil powers on the lawn. And it
killed every single living plant, flower, and blade of grass!

What should I do? I wondered, staring out at the burned, dried-out, dead,
dead yard.

Should I remove the Grool from the ground?

Did I have a choice?

Not really.

I quickly pulled on my new sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. Then I crept
downstairs. I sneaked out to the spot where I had buried the Grool.

And I began to dig.

Brown, dry leaves rained down on my head. My shoulder ached from lifting the
damp, heavy dirt. My stomach didn’t feel too great, either.

Dig, toss. Dig, toss.

The more I dug, the worse I felt.

I wanted to throw the shovel down and run from the spot. To leave the
terrible creature buried for good.

But I had to face the truth.

If I left the Grool buried, it would keep on punishing me. It would punish my
whole family.

I dug to the bottom of the hole. Then I bent down and pushed the dirt away
with both hands.

Slowly, before my frightened eyes, the Grool throbbed into view. More alive
and excited than ever.

“I should smash you with this shovel!” I yelled at it.

The Grool vibrated crazily, almost as if what I said made it happy.

Ba-boom. Ba-boom.
I could hear it breathe.

And then once again, it turned from brown to pink to tomato-red. And it
kept
changing color as it breathed.

Brown. Pink. Red.

Brown. Pink. Red.

I grabbed the Grool from its grave. It pulsed so hard that it throbbed right
out of my hand and fell to the ground.

“Stay still!” I shrieked, snatching it up.

The Grool stared at me. Its tiny, round eyes glowed red with evil.

I shivered.

I gritted my teeth and shoved the Grool into the pocket of my new sweatshirt.
I trudged back to the house, through the kitchen door, and into the hall that
led to the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, I heard a noise. It came from Mom and Dad’s
bedroom.

They’re awake, I thought. I’ve got to hurry before they see me and ask
questions. That’s all I need.

I leaped up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Whomp!
I slipped and landed hard on my right knee. “Ouch!” I shrieked.

I felt the Grool shake in my pocket. I heard its ugly, soft snicker.

Heh, heh, heh.

It was laughing at me!

I jerked it out of my pocket and squeezed it so hard that my fingers hurt.
Then I ran to my room and threw the Grool into the gerbil cage.

“I’ll find a way to destroy you,” I promised. I rubbed my aching knee and
glared at the little beast. “Before you can bring us any more bad luck, I will
destroy you!” I cried.

But how? I wondered.

How?

“Kids, Aunt Louise is coming tomorrow,” Mom told Daniel and me the next
morning. “So I want you both to clean up your rooms after school today.”

“Aunt Louise is coming?” I asked. “Great!”

Aunt Louise is my favorite aunt. Even though she�s a grown-up, she�s
completely cool.

She wears long, flowery dresses and drives a bright yellow convertible.

And Aunt Louise blows the biggest bubble gum bubbles! And she knows a lot of
really funny jokes.

Mom says Aunt Louise has her head in the clouds. I guess that means she has a
wild imagination. I don’t know about that, but she
does
know a lot about
things like astrology and tarot cards.

And, maybe—about Grools.

That night, after I cleaned my room and before I went to bed, I said a
special
good night to the Grool.

“My aunt is coming tomorrow and she’s going to help me get rid of you forever,” I whispered. It stared up at me,
breathing softly.

After school the next afternoon, Daniel and I turned the corner onto our
block. And we saw Aunt Louise’s yellow convertible in the driveway. We ran the
rest of the way home.

“Hey—what’s up?” Aunt Louise called as we burst into the house. A floppy
yellow straw hat covered her black curly hair.

Before Daniel could get to her, I threw my arms around Aunt Louise and
whispered in her ear, “Come upstairs with me.
Now.
It’s super-important.”

My aunt pulled off her hat and set it on my head. She admired me in the hat.
“Super
-important?” she asked.

“Yes,” I whispered, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the stairs.

“Have you ever heard of a Grool?” I asked.

“A Grool? Hmmm. I’ll have to think about that one for a minute,” she replied
thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so. What is a Grool?”

“Well,” I explained, “Daniel found a picture in an encyclopedia. And the book
said it was an ancient, mythical creature….”

“Well, if it’s mythical, honey, that means it doesn’t exist,” Aunt Louise
interrupted.

“But it’s
not
mythical!” I cried impatiently. “I should know because I have one. And it causes trouble, lots of trouble.”

Aunt Louise followed me to my room.

“Have you ever heard of a Lanx?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“That’s another creature in that encyclopedia. It looks like a potato, but it
has a mouth full of sharp teeth.”

“Good heavens. It sounds disgusting!” Aunt Louise exclaimed. “But tell me
about this… Grool. What does it look like?”

“Here. I’ll show you,” I said. I pulled her into my room.

I pointed at the gerbil cage. The Grool squatted in the corner.

Aunt Louise walked up to the cage. “So you’re a Grool,” she said, leaning
down. She reached over to pick it up.

“Wait,” I cried. “Maybe you shouldn’t touch it.”

But I was too late.

Aunt Louise picked up the Grool and placed it in the palm of her hand. She
studied it for a long while.

Then she turned to me. “Kat, it’s only a dried-up sponge. What’s the big
idea?”