30 - It Came from Beneath the Sink (4 page)

I quickly read the description.

“The Lanx is a cousin of the Grool. But it is much more dangerous.”

“Yuck!” Daniel cried, making a face.

I kept reading:

“Once the Lanx latches on to someone, it never lets go—until it has
drained every drop of energy from that person.”

I slammed the encyclopedia shut. “Here, Daniel, take this dumb book!” I
shoved the
Encyclopedia of the Weird
back into my brother’s arms. “This stuff is totally
crazy. I don’t believe any of it.”

“But I thought you wanted to know more about the sponge,” Daniel said.

“I do. But not this made-up stuff!” I told him.

I knew I was acting sort of rotten to Daniel. And that he only wanted to
help.

But give me a break. After all that had been happening, I was a little
stressed out.

I mean, it had been a bad couple of days—with Dad falling off the ladder,
and Mrs. Vanderhoff slamming her hand in the desk.

And me nearly being crushed by the tree branch!

I stomped down the hall back to class. “Stupid book,” I muttered to myself.

But another thought kept forcing its way into my mind:
What if the book is
right?

I stared at the Grool, still sitting in its container on the corner of Mrs.
Vanderhoff’s desk. I walked up to it.

It was wet again. And breathing. Its cold, black eyes stared back.

I felt a chill of fear and a prickling all over my skin.

“Mythical creatures don’t exist,” I whispered to the creature. “I’m not going
to believe that book. I’m not!”

The sponge stared up at me, breathing softly.

I picked up the container and shook it angrily. “What are you?” I cried.
“What?”

Daniel told Carlo the whole story on the walk home. I walked behind them,
trying to think about something else.
Anything
else.

“It’s called a Grool. And it’s a bad-luck charm,” Daniel explained excitedly.
“Right, Kat?”

“I think
you’re
the bad-luck charm,” I snapped. “And I don’t think
that book makes any sense.”

“Oh, yeah?” he cried. He grabbed my backpack.

“You don’t need these books, do you?” he teased. “You’re so smart, you know
more than the encyclopedia.”

Dancing down the street with my books, Daniel turned on to Maple Lane. “Hey,
Mom’s outside!” he cried, surprised. He started to run.

Carlo and I hurried to catch up with Daniel.

Mom stood at the door, waiting for us. Her face wore a tense, worried
expression. “Hi, kids. Come on inside,” she said.

Daniel, Carlo, and I followed Mom into the kitchen.

“I’m afraid I have some very bad news,” she began sadly.

“Killer is gone,” Mom announced. She bit her lower lip.

“Gone?” Daniel and I shrieked at once.

“He ran away,” Mom explained. “I can’t find him anywhere. He must have
slipped out when I went to put some things in the garage.”

“But, Mom—” I protested. “Killer never runs away. He’s never done it
before.”

“Kat is right!” Daniel agreed. “He’s not brave enough to run away.”

“Don’t worry,” Mom said. “I’m sure we’ll find him. I’ve called the police,
and they’re out searching for him right now.”

“I’ll
find Killer,” Daniel cried. “Bet I can find him before the police!
Come on, Carlo!”

Daniel grabbed a handful of doggie treats and ran out. Carlo followed close
behind.

The door slammed shut behind them.

Poor Killer, I thought. Out somewhere alone. Probably lost. Bet he’s scared.

Our new house is so close to the highway—to all those speeding cars. What
will happen to my little dog?

I suddenly felt like crying. I grabbed the sponge in its container and ran up
the stairs.

“It’s all your fault, isn’t it?” I accused the creature. “I bet you
are
a Grool after all!”

As I talked, the Grool pulsed. It shook so hard, I expected it to throb right
out of the container.

Ba-boom. Ba-boom.

And it breathed fast and deep.

Whoa-ahhh. Whoa-ahhh.

I yanked the Grool out. “We’ve had enough bad luck!” I wailed. “Maybe
this
will stop you!” I hurled the horrible thing as hard as I could against the
wall.

The Grool hit the wall with a sickening
splat.

And I let out a shrill cry of pain.

I glanced down and saw red.

Red blood.

Flowing over my left hand.

As I threw the Grool, I slammed the hand down on my desk—onto the sharp
point of a pair of scissors!

“Ohhh!” I moaned, checking out my hand. A deep, nasty cut.

I wrapped some tissues around the cut to slow the bleeding. Then I spotted
the Grool down on the floor.

Dead, I hoped.

I bent down.

“Gross!” I yelped. The Grool was breathing and throbbing—faster and harder
than ever before.

Whoa-ahhh. Whoa-ahhh.

I leaned in closer.

Heh, heh, heh.

“Hey, what’s that?” I murmured.

Heh, heh, heh.

I guess you’d call the noise a laugh. A dry, cruel snicker that sounded more
like a cough.

Then, as I listened to that evil laugh, the Grool began changing.

Its color suddenly brightened—from dull brown to light pink. As I stared in
amazement, the Grool turned bright tomato-red.

As red as the blood on my cut hand.

My hand! Yuck! Blood seeped through the tissues and dripped slowly onto the
floor.

I needed help with this. Mom’s help.

“Mom!” I called, leaping up. “I need a Band-Aid. A big one!”

As I hurried down the hall, a jumble of questions ran through my mind.

Why did the Grool change color? I wondered. And that laugh—I’d never heard
it before. What did it mean? Was it really laughing?

Did I hurt the Grool when I threw it against my bedroom wall? Is that why it
turned red?

So many frightening questions….

I listened at the door, cupping my hand around my ear.

Voices. Inside my room.

“Who’s there?” I called out shakily.

The door flew open.

“It’s the ghost of the Grool,” Daniel whispered in a spooky voice.
“Owoooooooo.”

Daniel and Carlo stood over the gerbil cage, giggling.

“Oh, I’m
so
scared,” I sneered. “Did you find Killer?”

“No,” Daniel replied sadly. “Carlo and I searched all over the neighborhood.
Mom says the police will find him.”

I turned my eyes to the gerbil cage. “How did the Grool get back in there?”

“I found it on the floor, so I stuck it back in the cage,” Daniel replied.
“How did it get out?”

“Beats me.” I shrugged. I didn’t feel like explaining.

Carlo, who’d been studying the Grool closely, stared at me. “Hey, what
happened to your hand?” he asked, pointing to my bandage.

I didn’t want to tell them.

“Oh, uh, nothing,” I replied. “Just a little cut. Why are you guys standing
there staring at the Grool?”

“Carlo still wants to borrow it,” Daniel explained, tapping the side of the
cage to get the creature’s attention. “I told him no.”

Carlo turned to me. “Please,” he begged. “I promise I’ll be careful. Please,
please, please, please…”

That stupid Grool! “Oh, take it and keep it!” I snapped.

“Excellent!” Carlo’s eyes lit up, and he reached eagerly into the plastic
cage to grab his prize.

“Wait!” Daniel cried, grabbing Carlo’s arm to stop him. “Kat, remember what
the
Encyclopedia of the Weird
said.”

Daniel began reciting the Grool entry from memory, staring at me all the
while.

“You cannot give a Grool away. Anyone who gives the Grool away will DIE
within one day.”

A feeling of dread grew in my stomach.

But I couldn’t believe that stupid book. Could I?

Did the encyclopedia say that Grools laugh? Or change color?

No.

Carlo and Daniel stared at me. Waiting for my decision. Should I give the
sponge creature to Carlo?

I studied the Grool.

“Don’t do it, Kat,” Daniel urged. “Please don’t give it away. It’s too
dangerous.”

I knew only one thing. I wanted to get the Grool away from me as quickly as I
could. And if Carlo wanted it so badly, I decided, let him have it!

“Go ahead, Carlo,” I said. “Take the gross, disgusting thing.”

Daniel grabbed the Grool out of the cage and held it tightly. “No!” he cried.
“Carlo is
not
taking it. I don’t care what you say. I won’t let him take
it!”

“Now who’s the scaredy-cat?” I asked, giving Daniel a poke in the arm.

“I’m trying to save
you
!” Daniel exclaimed. “Don’t you understand?”

Poor Daniel. He seemed so serious, so frightened. I decided to give him a
break.

“Well, okay. Carlo, I guess you’d better not take the Grool,” I announced.

Daniel heaved a sigh of relief.

Carlo frowned. “Okay. Bye. I’m out of here.”

“I’ll go with you,” Daniel said, tossing the Grool back into the cage. “Come
on, let’s ride our bikes to the park. Maybe Killer’s there.” As he hurried out
of the bedroom, Daniel turned and gave me a thumbs-up.

After the boys left, I collapsed on my bed. What’s going to happen next? I
wondered.

I lifted my eyes to the plastic cage and glared at the Grool. I felt a deep
hatred for the little creature.

“If one more bad thing happens around here, I’ll bury you,” I promised it.
“I’ll bury you so far in the ground that no one will ever find you or see you
again. Ever.”

It was a promise I would soon have to keep.

The next morning I woke up with a jolt.

Toot! Toot!
Daniel stood at the foot of my bed, blowing away on a party
horn.

“Time to get up, Kat!” he squealed.

I reached out to grab the noisy horn away. “Quit it, you loser!” I grumbled.
Then I remembered.

My birthday! Finally! Something to celebrate.

I jumped out of bed. Time to get ready to go to WonderPark!

I planned to be on the Seattle Log Flume and the Wild Wave Slide all day
long!

Running to the window, I peeked out through the glass. “No!” I cried in
disappointment. “No! It can’t be!”

Rain poured down. Lightning crackled through the sky. Thunder boomed so loud,
I felt the house shake.

How could we go to WonderPark in this mess?

“Kat,” Mom called from downstairs. “Breakfast.”

I threw on my purple-and-pink-striped leggings and a purple T-shirt and ran
to the kitchen. On my birthday Mom always makes my favorite—waffles with
strawberries and powdered sugar.

“Here’s the birthday girl. Happy birthday, honey.” Mom beamed, giving me a
big hug.

“I’m dressed for my party,” I said hopefully as I sat down at the table.

“Oh, honey, I’m afraid we’ll have to cancel your party,” Mom said sadly. “We
certainly can’t go to WonderPark in this storm.”

Cancel? I poked unhappily at my waffles.

“Can’t we have the party here—indoors?” I pleaded. “We’ll order pizza and
play computer games in the den.”

“You know that we can’t do that,” Mom said. “The painters will be here all
day in the living room and dining room. With all those ladders and buckets of
paint, I can’t have your friends running around.”

What rotten luck.

“But, Mom, it’s my birthday!” I protested, throwing down my fork. “And you
promised I could have a party. You promised!”

Mom sighed. “I know how disappointed you are, Kat. We’ll have your party
another day. Maybe next weekend.”

Another day wouldn’t be my birthday. “Everything’s going wrong!” I cried.
“Ever since we moved!”

I hated this new house. I even hated my birthday.

Most of all, I hated the Grool.

Leaving my waffles on the plate, I ran up to my room. I snatched the Grool
out of its cage and shook it as hard as I could.

“I warned you!” I threatened. “You ruined my birthday! Now you’ll pay!”

The Grool throbbed happily in my hand, and I hurled it back into the gerbil
cage. “I hate you!” I shrieked. “I really hate you! You and your bad luck!”

Plopping down at my desk, I decided I
had
to take action. Strong
action.

No birthday party. No more Grool.

“I’m keeping my promise,” I told the creature.

I pulled a notebook out of my desk drawer and began to make some plans to get
rid of it.

“Daniel, it’s not raining anymore,” I whispered to my brother. “Come on, it’s
time.”

The Grool vibrated in its plastic container.

Ba-boom. Ba-boom.

Daniel glanced up from his computer screen. “Now?” he asked. “Give me a
break, Kat. I’m on level ten, and I need to slay only one more troll before I
can open the treasure chest.”

“This is important.
Really
important,” I insisted.

Daniel sighed. “Do you think you should do it? You know what the book said.”

“I’ve got to!” I cried. “Remember, it’s the Grool’s fault that Killer ran
away.”

Daniel was definitely nervous. And scared.

But he obediently hit the
save
button on
Troll Terror
and
followed me outside to the backyard. It had rained all day. But now a few stars
shone high above us in the charcoal night sky.

“Here. You hold the Grool,” I whispered. I shoved the creature into his
trembling hands.

I skipped over to the garage—feeling happy for the first time in days. “I’m
getting rid of the Grool,” I sang to myself.

Grabbing the biggest shovel I could find, I made my way back to Daniel. Then
I started to dig.

This had to be a serious hole, a deep hole. Something the Grool could never,
ever climb out of.

A cool breeze blew around me. But digging in the damp ground was hard work.
Sweat rolled down my back and forehead.