Goosebumps- All In One

By Ccavalier

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Goosebumps- All In One
Welcome To The Dead House
Stay Out Of The Basement
Monster Blood
Let's Get Invisible!
Night of the Living Dummy
The Girl Who Cried Monster
The Haunted Mask
Be Careful What You Wish For
The Werewolf of Fever Swamp
You Can't Scare Me
Why I'm Afraid Of Bees
One Day In Horror Land

Monster Blood II

695 3 3
By Ccavalier

  1 

MONSTER BLOOD II 

Goosebumps - 18 

R.L. Stine 

(An Undead Scan v1.5) 

  2 

Evan Ross backed into the corner of the den as he stared at his dog Trigger. 

The tan cocker spaniel lowered his head and stared back at Evan with wet, brown 

eyes. The old dog’s tail began to wag excitedly. 

“Trigger—” Evan cried angrily. “Did you eat Monster Blood again?” 

The dog’s tail began wagging faster. Trigger let out a low bark that rumbled like 

thunder. 

Evan’s back pressed against the dark-paneled den wall. 

Trigger took a few heavy steps toward him, panting hard. His huge pink tongue, 

as big as a salami, hung out of his enormous mouth. 

“Did you?” Evan demanded. “Did you eat more Monster Blood?” 

The answer to Evan’s question was obvious. 

Trigger  had  been  normal  cocker  spaniel  size  that  morning.  Now  the  dog  stared 

down at Evan, as big as a pony. 

Trigger’s furry paws, the size of elephant hooves, thudded on the den carpet. His 

enormous tail pounded louder than a bass drum against the side of a leather couch. 

Evan covered his ears as Trigger let out an excited, high-pitched bark that shook 

the den walls. “Stay! Stay!” Evan shouted. 

The enormous dog panted hard, his tail wagging furiously. 

Oh, no! Evan thought in horror. He wants to play! 

“Sit!” Evan screamed. “Sit!” 

But  Trigger  didn’t  know  how  to  sit.  For  ten  years—seventy  dog  years!—Evan 

had tried to teach Trigger to sit on command. 

But Trigger just didn’t get it. 

“Where  did  you  find  the  Monster  Blood?”  Evan  demanded.  “We  all  saw  it 

disappear into thin air. Gone. It was just gone. You know that stuff makes you grow. 

And grow and grow and grow. Where did you find it?” 

Trigger  tilted  his  big  head  at  an  angle,  as  if  trying  to  understand  Evan’s  words. 

Then, wagging his huge tail excitedly, he started to run to Evan. 

No! Evan thought. He’s going to jump on me! He’s going to jump! If he jumps, 

he’ll crush me! 

An enormous glob of drool escaped Trigger’s open mouth and hit the carpet with 

a loud smack. 

“Sit!” Evan cried, his voice choked with panic. “Sit, boy! Sit!” 

Trigger hesitated, staring down at Evan. To Evan’s horror, the dog was growing 

even bigger. Trigger was now as tall as a horse! 

Where  did  he  find  the  container  of  Monster  Blood?  Evan  wondered,  his  back 

pressed against the wall. Where? 

  3 

The dog’s brown eyes gaped at Evan like shimmering, dark pools. Trigger uttered 

another deafening bark that shook the whole house. 

“Yuck!”  Evan  cried,  squeezing  his  nose  with  two  fingers.  The  dog’s  breath 

rushed at him like a strong wind. And it smelled as sour as a dead mouse. 

“Back! Get back, Trigger!” Evan pleaded. 

But Trigger had never learned that command, either. 

Without warning, the giant dog leaped at Evan. 

“Down! Down!” Evan shrieked. 

Trigger’s  mouth  gaped  open.  The  dog’s  huge  tongue  licked  the  side  of  Evan’s 

face. The tongue  felt scratchy and hot. Evan’s  carrot-colored hair was matted down 

with sticky dog saliva. 

“No—please!” Evan screamed. “I’m only twelve! I’m too young to die!” 

He  started  to  scream  again.  But  Trigger’s  big  teeth  clamped  around  his  waist, 

cutting off his breath. 

“Trigger—put me down! Put me down!” Evan choked out. 

The dog’s wagging tail sent a lamp crashing to the floor. 

The teeth held Evan gently but firmly. He felt himself being lifted off the floor. 

“Put me down! Put me down!” 

Why wouldn’t the stupid dog listen? 

Evan  thrashed  his  arms  and  legs  frantically,  trying  to  squirm  free.  But  Trigger 

held on tightly. 

The  dog’s  enormous  paws  pounded  on  the  carpet.  He  carried  Evan  through  the 

hall and across the kitchen. Then he lowered his head and butted the kitchen screen 

door open. 

The door slammed hard behind them. Trigger began trotting over the grass. 

“Bad dog! Bad dog!” Evan cried. His voice came out in a tiny squeak. 

Had Trigger grown even bigger? 

Evan was at least three feet off the ground now! 

“Put me down! Down!” he cried. 

Evan watched the green grass of the back yard bounce beneath him. Trigger was 

panting  as  he  walked.  The  panting  sounds  made  Evan’s  whole  body  vibrate.  He 

realized his jeans and T-shirt were soaked from dog saliva. Trigger doesn’t mean to 

hurt me, Evan told himself. He’s just being playful. Thank goodness he’s such an old 

dog. His teeth aren’t very sharp. 

The  dog  stopped  at  the  edge  of  the  flower  garden  in  the  back  of  the  yard.  He 

lowered Evan nearly to the ground, but didn’t let go. 

His paws began to churn up the soft dirt. 

“Let me down!” Evan shrieked. “Trigger—listen to me!” 

Breathing hard, his hot, sour breath pouring over Evan, the big dog continued to 

dig. 

A wave of horror swept over Evan as he realized what Trigger was doing. “No!” 

Evan shrieked. “Don’t bury me, Trigger!” 

The  dog  dug  faster,  its  front  paws  churning  furiously.  The  soft  dirt  flew  past 

Evan’s face. 

  4 

“I’m  not  a  bone!”  Evan  cried  frantically.  “Trigger—I’m  not  a  bone!  Don’t  bury 

me, Trigger! Please—don’t bury me!” 

  5 

“Don’t bury me. Please don’t bury me!” Evan murmured. 

He heard laughter. 

He raised his head and glanced around—and realized that he wasn’t home in his 

back yard. He was sitting in his assigned seat in the third row near the window in Mr. 

Murphy’s science class. 

And  Mr.  Murphy  was  standing  right  at  Evan’s  side,  his  enormous,  round  body 

blocking  the  sunlight  from  the  window.  “Earth  calling  Evan!  Earth  calling  Evan!” 

Mr.  Murphy  called,  cupping  his  chubby  pink  hands  over  his  mouth  to  make  a 

megaphone. 

The kids all laughed. 

Evan could feel his face growing hot. “S-sorry,” he stammered. 

“You  seem  to  have  been  somewhere  in  Daydream  Land,”  Mr.  Murphy  said,  his 

tiny black eyes twinkling merrily. 

“Yes,” Evan replied solemnly. “I was dreaming about Monster Blood. I—I can’t 

stop thinking about it.” 

Ever since his frightening adventure the past summer with the green, sticky stuff, 

Evan had been dreaming and daydreaming about it. 

“Evan, please,” Mr. Murphy said softly. He shook his round, pink head and made 

a “tsk-tsk” sound. 

“Monster Blood is real!” Evan blurted out angrily. 

The kids laughed again. 

Mr. Murphy’s expression grew stern. His tiny eyes locked onto Evan’s. “Evan, I 

am a science teacher. You don’t expect a science teacher to believe that you found a 

can of sticky green gunk in a toy store that makes things grow and grow.” 

“Y-yes, I do,” Evan insisted. 

“Maybe a science-fiction teacher would believe it,” Mr. Murphy replied, grinning 

at his own joke. “Not a science teacher.” 

“Well, you’re dumb!” Evan cried. 

He  didn’t  mean  to  say  it.  He  knew  immediately  that he  had  just  made  a  major 

mistake. 

He heard gasps all around the big classroom. 

Mr. Murphy’s pink face darkened until it looked like a red balloon. But he didn’t 

lose  his  temper.  He  clasped  his  chubby  hands  over  the  big  stomach  of  his  green 

sportshirt, and Evan could see him silently counting to ten. 

“Evan,  you’re  a  new  student  here,  isn’t  that  right?”  he  asked  finally.  His  face 

slowly returned to its normal pink color. 

  6 

“Yes,”  Evan  replied,  his  voice  just  above  a  whisper.  “My  family  just  moved  to 

Atlanta this fall.” 

“Well,  perhaps  you’re  not  familiar  with  the  way  things  work  here.  Perhaps  at 

your old school the teachers liked it when you called them dumb. Perhaps you called 

your teachers ugly names all day long. Perhaps—” 

“No, sir,” Evan interrupted, lowering his head. “It just slipped out.” 

Laughter rang through the classroom. Mr. Murphy glared sternly at Evan, his face 

twisted in an angry frown. 

Give  me  a  break,  Evan  thought  unhappily.  Glancing  quickly  around  the  room, 

Evan saw a sea of grinning faces. 

I  think  I’m  in  trouble  again,  Evan  thought  glumly. Why  can’t  I  keep  my  big 

mouth shut? 

Mr. Murphy glanced up at the wall clock. “School is nearly over,” he said. “Why 

don’t  you do us  all a little favor, Evan, to make  up for the time  you made us waste 

today?” 

Uh oh, Evan thought darkly. Here it comes. 

“When  the  bell  rings,  go  put  your  books  away  in  your  locker,”  Mr.  Murphy 

instructed. “Then come back here and clean Cuddles’ cage.” 

Evan groaned. 

His  eyes  darted  to  the  hamster  cage  against  the  wall.  Cuddles  was  scratching 

around in the wood shavings on the cage floor. 

Not the hamster! Evan thought unhappily. 

Evan  hated  Cuddles.  And  Mr.  Murphy  knew  it.  This  was  the  third  time  Mr. 

Murphy had made Evan stay after school and clean out the gross, disgusting cage. 

“Perhaps  while  you  clean  the  hamster  cage,”  Mr.  Murphy  said,  returning  to  his 

desk, “you can think about how to do better in science class, Evan.” 

Evan jumped to his feet. “I won’t do it!” he cried. 

He heard shocked gasps all around him. 

“I hate Cuddles!” Evan screamed. “I hate that stupid, fat hamster!” 

As everyone stared in amazed horror, Evan ran over to the cage, pulled open the 

door, and grabbed Cuddles up in one hand. 

Then, with an easy, graceful motion, he flung the hamster across the room—and 

out the open window. 

  7 

Evan knew he was having another daydream. 

He didn’t jump up screaming and throw the hamster out the window. 

He only thought about it. Everyone thinks about doing crazy, wild things once in 

a while. 

But Evan would never do anything that crazy. 

Instead, he said, “Okay, Mr. Murphy.” Then he sat quietly in his seat, staring out 

the window at the puffy white clouds in the bright blue sky. 

He could see his own reflection staring back at him in the glass. His curly, carrot-colored hair looked darker in the reflection. So did the freckles that dotted his cheeks. 

His  expression  was  mournful.  He  hated  being  made  fun  of  in  front  of  the  entire 

class. 

Why  am  I  always  getting  myself  into  trouble?  he  wondered.  Why  can’t  Mr. 

Murphy  ever  give  me  a  break?  Didn’t  the  teacher  realize  how  hard  it  was  to  be  the 

new  kid  in  school?  How  am  I  supposed  to  make  new  friends  if  Murphy  is  always 

making me look like a total jerk in class? 

Bad enough that no one believed him about the Monster Blood. 

Evan had eagerly told the kids in his new school about it. How he had stayed with 

his great-aunt the past summer. How he and a girl he met named Andy had found the 

blue container of Monster Blood in a creepy, old toy store. 

And how the green, yucky Monster Blood had started to grow and grow. How it 

had bubbled out of its container, outgrown a bucket, outgrown a bath tub! And just 

kept growing and growing as if it were alive! 

And  Evan  had  told  kids  how  Trigger  had  eaten  just  a  little  of  the  Monster 

Blood—and had grown nearly as big as a house! 

It  was  such  a  frightening,  amazing  story.  Evan  was sure  his  new  friends  would 

find it really cool. 

But, instead, they just thought he was weird. 

No  one  believed  him.  They  laughed  at  him  and  told  him  he  had  a  sick 

imagination. 

Evan  became  known  around  his  new  school  as  the  kid who  made  up  stupid 

stories. 

If  only  I  could  prove  to  them  that  the  story  is  true,  Evan  often  thought  sadly.  If 

only I could show them the Monster Blood. 

But  the  mysterious  green  gunk  had  vanished  from  sight  before  Evan  left  his 

great-aunt’s house. Not a trace of it had been left. Not a trace. 

The  bell  rang.  Everyone  jumped  up  and  headed  for  the  door,  talking  and 

laughing. 

  8 

Evan knew that a lot of his classmates were laughing at him. Ignoring them, Evan 

picked up his backpack and started to the door. 

“Hurry  back,  Evan,”  Mr.  Murphy  called  from  behind  his  desk.  “Cuddles  is 

waiting!” 

Evan  growled  under  his  breath  and  stepped  out  into the  crowded  hallway.  If 

Murphy loves that stupid hamster so much, why doesn’t he ever clean out the cage? 

he wondered bitterly. 

A group of kids laughed loudly as  Evan passed  by. Were they laughing  at him? 

Evan couldn’t tell. 

He started jogging to his locker—when something hit his leg just above the ankle. 

His feet flew out from under him, and he toppled face down onto the hard tile floor. 

“Hey—!” Evan cried angrily. 

He stared up at a big, tough-looking kid from his class named Conan Barber. All 

the kids called him Conan the Barbarian. For good reason. 

Conan  was  twelve,  but  he  looked  about  twenty  years older!  He  was  taller  and 

wider and stronger and meaner than any kid in the school. 

He  wasn’t  a  bad-looking  guy,  Evan  grudgingly  admitted.  He  had  wavy,  blond 

hair, blue eyes, and a handsome face. He was very athletic-looking, and played all the 

sports at school. 

He was an okay guy, Evan thought wistfully. 

Except that he had one very bad habit. Conan loved to live up to his nickname. 

He loved being Conan the Barbarian. 

He loved strutting around, pounding kids who weren’t his size—which included 

everyone! 

Evan had not hit it off with Conan. 

He met Conan on the playground a few weeks after moving to Atlanta. Eager to 

make a good impression, Evan told him the whole Monster Blood story. 

Conan didn’t like the story. He stared back at Evan with his cold, blue eyes for a 

long,  long  time.  Then  his  expression  hardened,  and he  murmured  through  clenched 

teeth: “We don’t like wise guys down here in Atlanta.” 

He gave Evan a pretty good pounding that day. 

Evan had tried to stay away from Conan ever since. But it wasn’t easy. 

Now he gazed up at Conan from his position on the floor. “Hey—why’d you trip 

me?” Evan demanded shrilly. 

Conan grinned down at him and shrugged. “It was an accident.” 

Evan tried to decide whether it was safer to stand up or to stay down on the floor. 

If I stand up, he’ll punch me, he thought. If I stay down here, he’ll step on me. 

Tough choice. 

He didn’t get to make it. Conan reached down and, with one hand, pulled Evan to 

his feet. 

“Give me a break, Conan!” Evan pleaded. “Why can’t you leave me alone?” 

Conan shrugged again. It was one of his favorite replies. His blue eyes twinkled 

merrily.  “You’re  right,  Evan,”  he  said,  his  grin  fading.  “I  shouldn’t  have  tripped 

you.” 

“Yeah,” Evan agreed, straightening his T-shirt. 

  9 

“So you can pay me back,” Conan offered. 

“Huh?” Evan gaped at him. 

Conan  stuck  out  his  massive  chest.  “Go  ahead.  Hit  me  in  the  stomach.  I’ll  let 

you.” 

“Whoa.  No  way,”  Evan  replied,  trying  to  back  up.  He  stumbled  into  a  group  of 

kids. 

“Go ahead,” Conan urged, following after him. “Hit me in the stomach. As hard 

as you can. It’s only fair.” 

Evan studied his expression. “You really mean it?” 

Conan  nodded,  tight-lipped.  He  stuck  out  his  chest.  “As  hard  as  you  can.  Go 

ahead. I won’t hit back. I promise.” 

Evan hesitated. Should he go ahead and do it? 

I may never get a chance like this again, he thought. 

A lot of kids were watching, Evan realized. 

If  I  hit  him  really  hard,  if  I  hurt  him,  if  I  make him  cry  out—then  maybe  kids 

around here will have a little respect for me. 

I’ll be Evan the Giant Killer. The guy who pounded Conan the Barbarian. 

He balled his hand into a tight fist and raised it. 

“Is that your fist?” Conan cried, laughing. 

Evan nodded. 

“Oooh—this  is  going  to  hurt!”  Conan  cried  sarcastically.  He  made  his  knees 

tremble. 

Everyone laughed. 

I may surprise him, Evan thought angrily. 

“Go  ahead.  As  hard  as  you  can,”  Conan  urged.  He  sucked  in  a  deep  breath  and 

held it. 

Evan pulled his arm back and swung his fist as hard as he could. 

The fist made a solid thud as it hit Conan’s stomach. 

It felt like hitting a concrete wall. 

Evan’s hand throbbed with pain. 

“Hey—!” a man’s voice called angrily. 

Startled, Evan spun around—to see Mr. Murphy glaring at him. 

“No fighting!” Mr. Murphy yelled at Evan. 

The  teacher  came  bouncing  up  to  them  and  stepped  between  the  two  boys. 

Huffing for breath, he turned to Conan. “Why did Evan hit you?” he demanded. 

  10 

Conan  shrugged.  His  blue  eyes  went  wide  and  innocent.  “I  don’t  know,  Mr. 

Murphy,” he replied in a tiny, forlorn voice. “Evan just walked up and hit me as hard 

as he could.” 

Conan rubbed his stomach and uttered a short whimper. “Ow. He really hurt me.” 

Mr.  Murphy  narrowed  his  beady  black  eyes  at  Evan.  His  chubby  face  turned 

bright red again. “Evan, I saw the whole thing. I really don’t understand you,” he said 

softly. 

“But Mr. Murphy—” Evan started. 

The  teacher  raised  a  hand  to  silence  him.  “If  you  were  angry  about  what 

happened in class,” Mr. Murphy said, “you shouldn’t take it out on other kids.” 

Conan  rubbed  his  stomach  tenderly.  “I  hope  Evan  didn’t break anything!”  he 

murmured. 

“Do you want to see the nurse?” Mr. Murphy asked. 

Conan shook his head.  Evan could see he  was having trouble keeping a  straight 

face. “I’ll be okay,” he said, and staggered away. 

What a phony! Evan thought bitterly. 

Did Conan know the whole time that Murphy was standing there? Probably. 

“Go take care of Cuddles,” Mr. Murphy told Evan, frowning. “And try to shape 

up, Evan. I’m going to be watching you.” 

Evan muttered a reply and trudged back into the classroom. Sunlight streamed in 

through the wall of windows. A strong breeze made the window shade flap over the 

open window near the teacher’s desk. 

Feeling  angry  and  upset,  his  stomach  churning,  Evan  made  his  way  through  the 

empty room to the hamster cage. Cuddles wrinkled his nose in greeting. The hamster 

knew the routine by now. 

Evan gazed into the metal cage at the brown-and-white creature. Why do people 

think hamsters are cute? he wondered. 

Because they wrinkle their noses? Because they run around and around on wheels 

like total jerks? Because of their cute little buck teeth? 

Cuddles stared up at him with his little black eyes. 

He  has  Mr.  Murphy’s  eyes,  Evan  thought,  chuckling  to  himself.  Maybe  that’s 

why Murphy likes him so much. 

“Okay, okay. So  you’re  kind of cute,” Evan told the hamster. “But  I know  your 

secret. You’re just a big fat rat in disguise!” 

Cuddles wrinkled his nose again in reply. 

With  a  loud  sigh,  Evan  went  to  work.  Holding  his  breath  because  he  hated  the 

smell, he pulled out the bottom tray. 

  11 

“You’re a messy little guy,” he told the hamster. “When are you going to learn to 

clean up your own room?” 

Still holding his breath, he dumped out the old newspaper shavings and replaced 

them with fresh shavings from the box in the supply closet. 

He  returned  the  bottom  tray  to  its  place  as  Cuddles  watched  with  great  interest. 

Then he poured fresh water into the water bottle. 

“How about some sunflower seeds?” Evan asked. He began to feel a little more 

cheerful, knowing his job was almost finished. 

He removed the seed cup from the cage and made his way across the room to the 

supply closet to get fresh sunflower seeds. 

“Okay, Cuddles,” he called, “these look yummy!” 

He  started  to  carry  the  seeds  back  to  the  cage.  Halfway  across  the  room,  Evan 

stopped and uttered a startled gasp. 

The cage door hung wide open. 

The hamster was gone. 

  12 

A choking sound escaped Evan’s lips as he stared at the empty cage. 

His eyes darted frantically around the room. “Cuddles? Cuddles?” he called in a 

frightened voice. 

Why am I yelling? he asked himself, spinning around in a total panic. The dumb 

hamster doesn’t know its name! 

He heard footsteps out in the hall. 

Mr. Murphy? 

No, please—no! Evan pleaded silently. 

Don’t let it be Mr. Murphy. Don’t let him return until I have Cuddles safely back 

in his cage. 

Cuddles  was  Mr.  Murphy’s  most  precious  possession. He  had  told  this  to  the 

class time and again. 

Evan  knew  that  if  anything  happened  to  Cuddles,  Mr.  Murphy  would  be  on 

Evan’s case for the rest of the year. No—for the rest of his life! 

Evan froze in the center of the room, listening hard. 

The footsteps passed by the room. 

Evan started breathing again. 

“Cuddles?  Where  are  you,  Cuddles?”  he  called  in  a  trembling  voice.  “I  have 

some delicious sunflower seeds for you.” 

He spotted the furry, brown-and-white creature on the chalk tray under the front 

chalkboard. 

“There you are! I see you!” Evan whispered, tiptoeing toward it. 

Cuddles was busily chewing on something. A small piece of white chalk. 

Evan tiptoed closer. “I have seeds for you, Cuddles,” he whispered. “Much tastier 

than chalk.” 

Cuddles held the stick of chalk in his front paws, turning it as he chewed. 

Evan crept closer. Closer. 

“Look. Seeds.” He held the plastic seed cup toward the hamster. 

Cuddles didn’t look up. 

Evan crept up closer. Closer. 

Close enough to dive forward— 

—and miss! 

The hamster dropped the chalk and scampered down the chalk tray. 

Evan made another frantic grab—and came up with nothing but air. 

  13 

Letting  out  a  frustrated  groan,  Evan  saw  the  hamster  dive  to  the  floor  and 

scamper  behind  Mr.  Murphy’s  desk.  The  hamster’s  feet  skidded  and  slid  on  the 

linoleum floor, its toenails clicking loudly. 

“You can’t  get  away! You’re too  fat!” Evan  cried. He dropped to his knees and 

peered under the desk. 

He  could  see  Cuddles  staring  back  at  him  from  the  darkness.  The  animal  was 

breathing rapidly, its sides swelling with each breath. 

“Don’t  be  scared,”  Evan  whispered  soothingly.  “I’m going  to  put  you  back  in 

your nice, safe cage.” 

He crawled quickly to the desk. 

The  hamster  stared  back  at  him,  breathing  hard.  It didn’t  move—until  Evan 

reached for him. Then Cuddles scampered away, his tiny paws sliding on the floor. 

Evan jumped angrily to his feet. “Cuddles—what’s your problem?” he demanded 

loudly. “This isn’t a stupid game!” 

It wasn’t a game at all, Evan knew. 

If  he  didn’t  get  the  hamster  back  in  the  cage,  Mr. Murphy  would  flunk  him  for 

sure. Or suspend him from school. Or get his family kicked out of Atlanta! 

Calm down, Evan urged himself. Don’t panic. 

He took a deep breath and held it. 

Then he saw the hamster on the window ledge just inside the open window. 

Okay, Evan—go ahead and panic! he told himself. 

This was definitely panic time. 

He tried to call to the hamster. But his voice came out a choked whisper. 

Swallowing hard, Evan edged slowly toward the window ledge. 

“Come here, Cuddles,” he whispered. “Please, Cuddles—come here.” 

Closer, closer. 

Almost close enough to reach the hamster. 

Almost close enough. 

“Don’t move, Cuddles. Don’t move.” 

He reached out his hand slowly. Slowly. 

Cuddles glanced back at him with his soft black eyes. 

Then the hamster jumped out the window. 

  14 

Evan hung back for only a second. 

Then he jumped out the window after the hamster. 

Luckily, the science classroom was on the ground floor. Evan landed face down 

in a low evergreen hedge. Struggling and squirming, it took him a while to climb to 

his feet. 

He  took  several  steps  over  the  grass,  then  turned  and  stared  back  along  the 

bottom of the long hedge. “Cuddles—are you under there?” 

Evan squatted down to get a better view. The hedge stretched the entire length of 

the school building. Cuddles could hide under there forever. 

And  if  I  don’t  find  him,  Evan  told  himself  bitterly,  I’d  better  hide  under  there 

forever, too! 

To  the  right,  Evan  could  hear  voices  from  the  playground.  Happy,  shouting 

voices. Carefree voices. 

Still  squatting,  he  turned  toward  the  happy  voices—and  saw  a  fat  brown  ball 

wobbling over the grass toward the playground. 

No. Not a ball. “Cuddles!” 

That  fat  hamster  isn’t  getting  away  this  time!  Evan  decided,  jumping  up  and 

starting to chase after the creature. I’ll catch him if I have to sit on him! 

A picture flashed into Evan’s mind of Cuddles, flat as a pancake after Evan had 

sat upon him. A little, round, furry hamster rug. 

Despite  his  panic,  the  thought  of  Cuddles  as  a  rug brought  a  smile  to  Evan’s 

perspiring face. 

As he ran, he kept his eyes on Cuddles. The hamster was wobbling rapidly over 

the grass toward the playground. 

“Oh,  no!”  Evan  cried  out  in  horror  as  Cuddles  darted  in  front  of  two  girls 

speeding across the grass on bikes. 

Laughing together, they didn’t even see the hamster. 

Cuddles is about to be road kill! Evan thought, shrinking back. He shut his eyes 

and waited for the squish. 

But  the  bikes  rolled  smoothly  on.  And  when  they  had  passed,  Evan  spotted 

Cuddles continuing his journey to the playground unharmed. 

“Cuddles—come back here!” he shouted furiously. 

The  hamster  appeared  to  speed  up.  He  tumbled  onto  the  baseball  diamond,  all 

four paws scurrying over the dirt of the third-base line. 

Several kids stopped their game to stare. 

“Stop him! Grab the hamster!” Evan shouted desperately. 

But the kids only laughed. 

  15 

“Know how to catch him?” a joker named Robbie Greene called to Evan. “Make 

a sound like a sunflower seed!” 

“That’s an old joke!” a girl called to Robbie. 

“Thanks  for  your  help!”  Evan  shouted  sarcastically.  He  ran  over  the  pitching 

mound and had crossed second base when he realized he had lost sight of Cuddles. 

He stopped and spun around, his heart thudding wildly in his chest. He searched 

the grass of the infield. “Where—where is he?” he stammered. “Do you see him?” 

But the kids had returned to their softball game. 

I can’t lose him now! Evan told himself, choked with panic. I can’t! 

Sweat poured down Evan’s forehead. He mopped it with one hand, brushing back 

his curly, red hair. His T-shirt clung wetly to his back. His mouth felt dry as cotton. 

Jogging into the outfield, he searched the grass. 

“Cuddles?” 

No sign of him. 

A round, brownish lump in the grass turned out to be someone’s baseball glove. 

“Cuddles?” 

A kickball game was underway on the opposite diamond. Kids were shouting and 

cheering.  Evan saw  Bree Douglas, a  girl  from his class, slide hard into second base 

just before the ball. 

“Has—has anyone seen Cuddles?” Evan gasped, trotting onto the diamond. 

Kids turned to gawk at him. 

“Out here?” Bree called, brushing off the knees of her jeans. “Evan, did you take 

the hamster out for a walk?” 

Everyone laughed. Scornful laughter. 

“He—he got away,” Evan replied, panting. 

“Is this what you’re looking for?” a familiar voice called. 

Evan turned to see Conan Barber, a pleased smile on his handsome face, his blue 

eyes gleaming. 

Gripping  it  by  its  furry  back,  Conan  held  the  hamster  up  in  one  hand.  Cuddles’ 

four legs scurried in midair. 

“You—you  caught  him!”  Evan  cried  gratefully.  He  let  out  a  long  sigh  of  relief. 

“He jumped out the window.” 

Evan reached out both hands for the hamster, but Conan jerked Cuddles out of his 

reach. “Prove it’s yours,” Conan said, grinning. 

“Huh?” 

“Can  you  identify  it?”  Conan  demanded,  his  eyes  burning  into  Evan’s, 

challenging Evan. “Prove this hamster is yours.” 

Evan swallowed hard and glanced around. 

Kids  from  the  kickball  game  were  huddling  near.  They  were  all  grinning, 

delighted with Conan’s mean joke. 

Evan sighed wearily and reached again for the hamster. 

But Conan was at least a foot taller than Evan. He lifted the hamster high above 

Evan’s head, out of Evan’s reach. 

“Prove it’s yours,” he repeated, flashing the others a grin. 

  16 

“Give me a break, Conan,” Evan pleaded. “I’ve been chasing this stupid hamster 

for hours. I just want to get him back in his cage before Mr. Murphy—” 

“Do  you  have  a  license  for  him?”  Conan  demanded,  still  holding  the  squirming 

hamster above Evan’s head. “Show me the license.” 

Evan jumped and stretched both hands up, trying to grab Cuddles away. 

But Conan was too fast for him. He dodged away. Evan grabbed air. 

Some kids laughed. 

“Give  him  the  hamster,  Conan,”  Bree  called.  She  hadn’t  moved  from  second 

base. 

Conan’s  cold  blue  eyes  sparkled  excitedly.  “I’ll  tell  you  how  you  can  get  the 

hamster back,” he told Evan. 

“Huh?” Evan glared at him. He was getting really tired of Conan’s game. 

“Here’s  how  to  get  old  Cuddles  back,”  Conan  continued,  holding  the  hamster 

tightly against his chest in one hand and petting its back with the other. “Sing a song 

for it.” 

“Hey—no way!” Evan snapped. “Give it to me, Conan!” 

Evan  could  feel  his  face  growing  even  hotter.  His  knees  started  to  tremble.  He 

hoped no one could see it. 

“Sing ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’, and I’ll give you Cuddles. Promise,” Conan 

said, smirking. 

Some kids laughed. They moved closer, eager to see what Evan would do. 

Evan shook his head. “No way.” 

“Come on,” Conan urged softly, stroking the hamster’s brown fur. “‘Row, Row, 

Row Your Boat.’ Just a few choruses. You know how it goes, don’t you?” 

More cruel laughter from the others. 

Conan’s grin grew wider. “Come on, Evan. You like to sing, don’t you?” 

“No, I hate singing,” Evan muttered, his eyes on Cuddles. 

“Hey, don’t be modest,” Conan insisted. “I’ll bet you’re a great singer. Are you a 

soprano or an alto?” 

Loud laughter. 

Evan’s  hands  tightened  into  hard  fists  at  his  sides.  He  wanted  to  punch  Conan, 

and  punch  him  and  punch  him.  He  wanted  to  wipe  the grin  off  Conan’s  handsome 

face with his fists. 

But  he  remembered  what  it  had  felt  like  to  punch  Conan.  It  had  felt  like  hitting 

the side of a truck. 

He took a deep breath. “If I sing the stupid song, will you really give me back the 

hamster?” 

Conan didn’t reply. 

Evan suddenly realized that Conan wasn’t looking at him anymore. No one was. 

They had all raised their eyes over Evan’s shoulder. 

Confused, Evan spun around—to face Mr. Murphy. 

“What is going on here?” the teacher demanded, his tiny black eyes moving from 

Evan to Conan, then back to Evan. 

  17 

Before  Evan  could  reply,  Conan  held  up  the  hamster.  “Here’s  Cuddles,  Mr. 

Murphy,” Conan said. “Evan let him get away. But I rescued Cuddles just as he was 

going to get run over.” 

Mr. Murphy let out a horrified gasp. “Run over?” he cried. “Cuddles? Run over?” 

The teacher reached out his chubby pink hands and took the hamster from Conan. 

He held the hamster against his bulging shirt and petted it, making soothing sounds to 

it. 

“Thank you, Conan,” Mr. Murphy said after calming Cuddles. He glared at Evan. 

“I’m very disappointed in you, Evan.” 

Evan  started  to  defend  himself.  But  Mr.  Murphy  raised  a  hand  to  silence  him. 

“We’ll  talk  about  it  tomorrow.  Right  now  I  must  get  poor  Cuddles  back  into  his 

cage.” 

Evan slumped to the ground. He watched Mr. Murphy carry the hamster back to 

the school building. Mr. Murphy waddles just like the hamster, Evan realized. 

Normally, that thought would have cheered him up. 

But Evan was far too unhappy to be cheered up by anything. 

Conan had embarrassed him in front of all the others. And the big, grinning hulk 

had managed to get Evan in trouble with Mr. Murphy twice in one afternoon! 

The  kickball  game  had  started  up  again.  Evan  climbed  slowly  to  his  feet  and 

began trudging to the school building to get his backpack. 

He couldn’t decide who he hated more—Cuddles or Conan. 

He had a sudden picture of Cuddles stuffed inside a muffin tin, being baked in an 

oven. 

Even that lovely thought didn’t cheer Evan up. 

He pulled his backpack out of the locker and slung it over his shoulder. Then he 

slammed the locker shut, the sound clanging down the empty hallway. 

He pushed open the front door and headed for home, walking slowly, lost in his 

unhappy thoughts. 

What a horrible day, he told himself. At least nothing worse could happen to me 

today. 

He had just crossed the street and was making his way on the sidewalk in front of 

a  tall  hedge—when  someone  leaped  out  at  him,  grabbed  his  shoulders  hard  from 

behind, and pulled him roughly to the ground. 

Evan let out a frightened cry and gazed into his attacker’s face. “You!” he cried. 

  18 

“Here’s  a  little  advice,  Evan,”  Andy  said,  grinning  down  at  him.  “Don’t  go  out  for 

the wrestling team.” 

“Andy!” Evan cried, staring up at her in surprise. “What are you doing here?” 

She reached out both hands and helped tug him to his feet. Then she tossed back 

her short, brown hair with a flick of her head. Her brown eyes flashed excitedly. 

“Didn’t you read any of my letters?” she demanded. 

Evan had met Andy the past summer, when he’d stayed with his great-aunt for a 

few weeks. He and Andy had become good friends. 

She  was  with  him  when  he  bought  the  container  of  Monster  Blood.  She  shared 

the whole frightening Monster Blood adventure with him. 

Evan  liked  Andy  because  she  was  funny,  and  fearless,  and  kind  of  crazy.  He 

never could predict what she would do next! 

She didn’t even dress like other girls Evan knew. Andy loved bright colors. Right 

now she was wearing a  sleeveless magenta T-shirt over bright  yellow shorts, which 

matched her yellow sneakers. 

“I told you in my last letter that my parents were sent overseas for a year,” Andy 

said, giving Evan a playful shove. “I told you they were sending me to Atlanta to live 

with my aunt and uncle. I told you I’d be living just three blocks away from you!” 

“I know. I know,” Evan replied, rolling his eyes. “I just didn’t expect to see you 

jump out of the hedge at me.” 

“Why not?” Andy demanded, her dark eyes exploring his. 

Evan didn’t know how to answer that question. 

“Glad to see me?” Andy asked. 

“No,” he joked. 

She pulled up a thick blade of grass and stuck it in the corner of her mouth. They 

began walking toward Evan’s house. 

“I’m starting at your school on Monday,” she told him, chewing on the blade of 

grass. 

“Thrills and chills,” he replied, snickering. 

She shoved him off the sidewalk. “I thought people were supposed to be polite in 

the South.” 

“I’m new here,” Evan replied. 

“How’s Trigger?” she asked, kicking a pebble across the sidewalk. 

“Good,” Evan told her. 

“Like to talk a lot?” she asked sarcastically. 

“I’m in a bad mood,” he confessed. “It hasn’t been the greatest day.” 

  19 

“It couldn’t be  as  bad  as  the  day  the  Monster  Blood  went  berserk!”  Andy 

exclaimed. 

Evan groaned. “Don’t mention Monster Blood to me. Please!” 

She studied him. Her expression turned serious. “What’s wrong, Evan? You look 

really upset,” she said. “Don’t you like it here?” 

He shook his head. “Not much.” 

As they walked, he told her about all the trouble he was having in his new school. 

He told her about Mr. Murphy and Cuddles, and how the teacher was always on his 

case. 

And he told her about Conan the Barbarian, and how Conan was always picking 

on  him,  always  getting  him  into  trouble,  always  playing  tricks  on  him  and  making 

him look bad. 

“And no one will believe me about the Monster Blood,” Evan added. 

They  were  standing  at  the  bottom  of  his  driveway.  They  glanced  up  at  Evan’s 

new  house,  a  two-story  red  brick  house  with  a  sloping  red  tile  roof.  The  late 

afternoon sun dipped behind a large puff of cloud, and a broad shadow rolled across 

the lawn. 

Andy’s mouth dropped open. The blade of grass fell out. “You told kids about the 

Monster Blood?” she asked in surprise. 

Evan nodded. “Yeah, why not? It’s a cool story, isn’t it?” 

“And  you  expected  kids  to believe you?”  Andy  cried,  slapping  her  forehead. 

“Didn’t they just think you were weird?” 

“Yeah,” Evan replied bitterly. “They all think I’m weird.” 

Andy laughed. “Well, you are weird!” 

“Thanks a bunch, Annnndrea!” Evan muttered. He knew she hated to be called by 

her real name. 

“Don’t call me Andrea,” she replied sharply. She raised a fist. “I’ll pound you.” 

“Annnnnndrea,” he repeated. He ducked away as she swung her fist. “You punch 

like a girl!” he exclaimed. 

“You’ll bleed like a boy!” she threatened, laughing. 

He  stopped.  He  suddenly  had  an  idea.  “Hey—you  can  tell  everyone  I’m  not 

weird!” 

“Huh? Why would I do that?” Andy demanded. 

“No.  Really,”  Evan  said  excitedly.  “You  can  tell  everyone  at  school  that  the 

Monster Blood was real. That you were there. That you saw it.” 

Andy’s expression suddenly changed. Her dark eyes lit up, and a sly grin crossed 

her face. “I can do better than that,” she said mysteriously. 

Evan  grabbed  her  shoulder.  “Huh? What  do  you  mean? What  do  you  mean  you 

can do better?” 

“You’ll see,” she replied, teasing him. “I brought something with me.” 

“What? What is it? What do you mean?” Evan demanded. 

“Meet me tomorrow after school,” she told him. “At that little park over there.” 

She pointed to the next block. A narrow park, only a few blocks long, ran along 

the bank of a shallow creek. 

“But what is it?” Evan cried. 

  20 

She laughed. “I love torturing you!” she declared. “But it’s a little too easy.” 

Then she turned and headed down the street, running at full speed. 

“Andy—wait!” Evan called. “What have you got? What did you bring?” 

She didn’t even turn around. 

  21 

Evan dreamed about Monster Blood that night. 

He dreamed about it nearly every night. 

Tonight he dreamed that his dad had eaten a glob of it. Now Mr. Ross wanted to 

go to his office, but he had grown too big to fit through the door. 

“You’re  in  trouble  now,  Evan!”  Mr.  Ross  bellowed,  making  the  whole  house 

shake. “Big trouble!” 

Big trouble. 

The words stuck in Evan’s mind as he sat up in bed and tried to shake away the 

dream. 

The  curtains  flapped  silently  in  front  of  his  open bedroom  window.  Pale yellow 

stars dotted the charcoal sky. Staring hard, Evan could see the Big Dipper. Or was it 

the Little Dipper? He never could remember. 

Shutting his eyes and settling back on the pillow, Evan thought about Andy. He 

was glad she had come to stay in Atlanta for a while. She could be a real pain. But 

she was also a lot of fun. 

What did she want to show him in the park after school? 

Probably  nothing,  Evan  guessed.  It  was  probably  just  a  dumb  joke.  Andy  loved 

dumb jokes. 

How can  I get her to tell the kids at school about Monster Blood? he wondered. 

How can I get Andy to tell everyone that I didn’t make it up, that it’s true? 

He was still thinking about this problem as he fell back into a restless sleep. 

The next day at school wasn’t much better than the last. 

Somehow  during  free  reading  period,  Conan  had  crept  under  the  table  and  tied 

Evan’s sneaker laces together. When Evan got up to go to the water fountain, he fell 

flat on his face. He scraped a knee, but no one cared. The kids laughed for hours. 

“Evan’s mommy tied his shoes funny this morning!” Conan told everyone. And 

they laughed even harder. 

In science class, Mr. Murphy called Evan over to the hamster cage. “Look at poor 

Cuddles,” the teacher said, shaking his round head solemnly. 

Evan peered down into the metal cage. Cuddles was curled up in a corner under a 

pile of shavings. The hamster was trembling and breathing in short gasps. 

“Poor  Cuddles  has  been  like  that  ever  since  yesterday,”  Mr.  Murphy  told  Evan 

with an accusing frown. “Cuddles is sick because of your carelessness.” 

“I—I’m sorry,” Evan stammered. He stared hard at the quivering hamster. You’re 

faking—aren’t you, Cuddles? Evan thought. You’re faking just to get me in trouble! 

The hamster twitched and stared up at him with mournful, black eyes. 

  22 

When Evan sat back down in his seat, he felt cold water seep through the back of 

his jeans. With a startled cry, he jumped right back up. Someone—probably Conan—

had poured a cup of water on his chair. 

That had the class laughing for at least ten minutes. They stopped only when Mr. 

Murphy threatened to keep everyone after school. 

“Sit down, Evan,” the teacher ordered. 

“But, Mr. Murphy—” Evan started. 

“Sit down—now!” Mr. Murphy insisted. 

Evan dropped back down into the wet chair. What choice did he have? 

Andy was waiting for Evan by the trickling brown creek that rolled through the tiny 

park. The old sassafras trees bent and whispered in a hot breeze. A tall Georgia pine 

leaned over the water as if trying to reach across the creek. 

Andy  was  wearing  a  bright  blue  T-shirt  over  lime-green  short-shorts.  She  had 

been staring at her reflection in the muddy creek water. She spun around smiling as 

Evan called to her. 

“Hey,  how’s  it  going?”  he  called.  He  stepped  up  beside  her  and  dropped  his 

backpack to the ground. 

“How was school?” Andy asked. 

“Same as always,” Evan replied, sighing. Then his expression brightened. “What 

did you bring?” he asked eagerly. 

“You’ll see.” She clasped a hand over his eyes. “Shut your eyes, Evan. And don’t 

open them until I say.” 

He obediently shut his eyes. But when she pulled her hand away, he opened them 

a tiny crack, just enough to see. He watched her go behind the pine tree and pick up a 

small brown paper bag. 

She carried the bag over to him. “You’re peeking—aren’t you?” she accused him. 

“Maybe,” he confessed, grinning. 

She punched him playfully in the stomach. He cried out and his eyes shot open. 

“What’s in the bag?” 

Grinning, Andy handed the bag to him. 

He pulled it open, peered inside—and his mouth dropped open in shock. 

The familiar blue can, about the size of a can of soup. 

“Andy—you—you—” Evan stammered, still staring wide-eyed into the bag. 

He reached in and pulled out the plastic can. 

He read the faded label: MONSTER BLOOD. 

Then  he  read  the  words  in  tiny  type  below  it:  SURPRISING  MIRACLE 

SUBSTANCE. 

“I saved it,” Andy said, beaming proudly. 

Evan couldn’t  get over his shock. “You brought  Monster Blood!  I don’t  believe 

it! You brought Monster Blood!” 

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s empty, Evan. The can is empty.” 

His face fell. He sighed in total disappointment. 

  23 

“But  you  can  show  the  can  to  everyone,”  Andy  insisted.  “That  will  prove  you 

didn’t make it up. It will prove that Monster Blood really exists.” 

Evan sighed again. “What good is an empty can?” he groaned. 

He pulled off the top, peered inside—and screamed. 

  24 

With a trembling hand, Evan tilted the can so that Andy could see inside. 

“Oh, no!” she shrieked, pulling her hands to her cheeks. 

The can was half full. 

Inside, a green glob of gooey Monster Blood shimmered in the sunlight like lime 

jell-o. 

“But it was empty!” Andy protested, staring into the can. “I know it was!” 

Evan shook the can. The green glob inside quivered. 

“There  must  have  been  a  tiny  speck  in  there,”  Evan guessed.  “Down  at  the 

bottom of the can. And now it’s growing and growing again.” 

“Great!” Andy declared. She slapped him on the back so hard, he nearly dropped 

the blue can. 

“Great? What’s so great?” he demanded shakily. 

“Now  you  can  show  this  to  the  kids  at  your  school,”  she  replied.  “Now  they’ll 

have to believe you.” 

“I guess,” Evan replied in a low voice. 

“Oh!  I  have  a  better  idea!”  she  exclaimed,  her  dark  eyes  lighting  up 

mischievously. 

“Uh-oh,” Evan moaned. 

“Slip  a  little  glob  of  it  in  that  guy  Conan’s  lunch  tomorrow.  When  he  starts  to 

grow as big as a hippo, everyone will see that the Monster Blood is real.” 

“No way!” Evan cried. He cupped the blue can in both hands, as if protecting it 

from Andy. “Conan is already big enough!” he told her, taking a step back. “I don’t 

want him to grow another inch. Do you know what he could do to me if he became a 

giant?” 

Andy laughed and shrugged. “It was just an idea.” 

“A bad idea,” Evan said sharply. “A really bad idea.” 

“You’re no fun,” she teased. She leaped forward and tried to wrestle the can from 

his hands. 

He spun around, turning his back to her, and hunched over, protecting the can. 

“Give it to me!” she cried, laughing. She started tickling his sides. “Give it! Give 

it!” 

“No!” he protested, breaking free. He ran to the safety of a tall evergreen shrub. 

“It’s mine!” Andy declared, coming after him, hands at her waist. “If you’re not 

going to use it, hand it back.” 

Evan  stood  his  ground.  His  expression  turned  serious.  “Andy,  don’t  you 

remember?”  he  demanded  shrilly.  “Don’t  you  remember  how  scary  this  stuff  was? 

Don’t you remember how dangerous it was? All the trouble it caused?” 

  25 

“So?” she replied, her eyes on the blue can. 

“We have to get rid of it,” Evan told her firmly. “We can’t let it out of the can. It 

will grow and grow and never stop.” 

“But I thought you wanted to show it to the kids to prove that it’s real.” 

“No,”  Evan  interrupted.  “I  changed  my  mind.  This  stuff  is  too  dangerous.  We 

have to get rid of it.” He locked his eyes on hers, his features tight with fear. “Andy, 

I’ve  had  nightmares  every  night  because  of  this  stuff.  I  don’t  want  any  new 

nightmares.” 

“Okay, okay,” she muttered. She kicked at an upraised tree root. Then she handed 

him the brown paper bag. 

Evan clicked the top back on the can of Monster Blood. Then he shoved the can 

into the bag. “Now how do we get rid of it?” he wondered out loud. 

“I know. Dump it in the creek,” Andy suggested. 

Evan shook his head. “No good. What if it gets out and pollutes the creek?” 

“This creek is already polluted!” Andy exclaimed. “It’s just a big mud puddle!” 

“It isn’t deep enough,” Evan insisted. “Someone will find the can and pull it out. 

We can’t take a chance.” 

“Then how do we get rid of it?” Andy asked, twisting her face in concentration. 

“Hmmmm. We could eat it ourselves. That would get rid of it!” 

“Very funny,” Evan muttered, rolling his eyes. 

“Just trying to be helpful,” Andy said. 

“You’re about as helpful as a toothache!” Evan shot back. 

“Ha-ha. Remind me to laugh at that sometime,”  she replied, sticking her  tongue 

out at him. 

“How  can  we  get  rid  of  it?”  Evan  repeated,  gripping  the  bag  in  both  hands. 

“How?” 

“I know!” a boy’s voice called, startling them both. 

Conan Barber stepped out from behind a tall shrub. 

“You  can  give  it  to  me!”  he  declared.  He  reached  out  a  big,  powerful-looking 

hand to grab the bag. 

  26 

10 

Evan swung the paper bag behind his back. 

Conan  lumbered  toward  them  over  the  tall  grass.  His  eyes  were  narrowed 

menacingly at Evan. 

How  long  has  he  been  hiding  there?  Evan  wondered.  Did  he  hear  us  talk  about 

the Monster Blood? Is that why he wants the bag? 

“Hi, I’m Andy,” Andy chirped brightly. She stepped in between the two boys and 

flashed Conan a smile. 

“Andy is a boy’s name,” Conan said, making a disgusted face. He turned his hard 

stare on her, challenging her. 

“And what kind of a name is Conan?” Andy shot back, returning his stare. 

“You know me?” Conan asked, sounding surprised. 

“You’re famous,” Andy replied dryly. 

Conan  suddenly  remembered  Evan.  He  stuck  out  his  big  paw.  “I’ll  take  the  bag 

now.” 

“Why should I give it to you?” Evan demanded, trying to keep his voice calm and 

steady. 

“Because it’s mine,” Conan lied. “I dropped it here.” 

“You dropped an empty bag here?” Evan asked. 

Conan swatted a fly from his blond hair. “It isn’t empty. I saw you put something 

in it. Hand it over. Now.” 

“Well… okay.” Evan handed him the paper bag. Conan eagerly reached inside. 

His hand came out empty. 

He peered inside the bag. Empty. 

He stared hard at Andy, then at Evan. 

“I told you it was empty,” Evan said. 

“Guess  I  made  a  mistake,”  Conan  muttered.  “Hey,  no hard  feelings.  Shake.” 

Conan reached out his big right hand to Evan. 

Evan reluctantly stuck out his hand. 

Conan slid his hand over Evan’s and began to tighten his grip. Harder. Harder. 

Evan’s fingers cracked so loudly, they sounded like a tree falling! 

Conan  squeezed  Evan’s  hand  harder  and  harder  until Evan  screamed  in  pain. 

When Conan finally let go, the hand looked like a slab of raw hamburger. 

“Nice handshake you got there!” Conan exclaimed, grinning. 

He  snapped  his  finger  against  Andy’s  nose,  then  headed  off  quickly  toward  the 

street, taking long strides, laughing to himself. 

“Great guy,” Andy muttered, rubbing her nose. 

  27 

Evan blew on his hand, as if trying to put out a fire. “Maybe I can learn to be left-handed,” he murmured. 

“Hey—where’s the Monster Blood?” Andy demanded. 

“I—I dropped it,” Evan replied, still examining his hand. 

“Huh?” She kicked away a clump of weeds and stepped over to him. 

“I  thought  I  could  shove  the  can  into  my  back  jeans  pocket  while  Conan  was 

talking to you,” Evan explained. “But it slipped out of my hand. I dropped it.” 

He  turned,  bent  over,  and  picked  it  up  from  the  tall  grass.  “Good  thing  it  didn’t 

roll or anything. Conan would have seen it.” 

“He wouldn’t know what to do with it if he had it,” Andy said. 

“What  are we going  to  do  with  it?”  Evan  demanded.  “It’s  already caused  us 

trouble. We’ve got to hide it, or throw it away, or—or—” 

He  pulled  open  the  lid.  “Oh,  wow!  Look!”  He  held  the  can  up  to  Andy’s  face. 

The  green  goo  had  grown  nearly  to  the  top  of  the  can.  “It’s  starting  to  grow  a  lot 

faster. I guess because we exposed it to the air.” 

Evan slammed the lid on tight. 

“Let’s  bury  it,”  Andy  suggested.  “Here.  Right  under  this  tree.  We’ll  dig  a  deep 

hole and bury it.” 

Evan liked the idea. It was simple and quick. 

They squatted down and began digging with their hands. The dirt beneath the tree 

was soft. The hole grew deep before they had worked up a sweat. 

Evan  dropped  the  blue  can  of  Monster  Blood  into  the  hole.  Then  they  quickly 

covered it with dirt, smoothing it out until it was impossible to tell a hole had been 

dug. 

“This was a good plan,” Andy said, climbing to her feet, playfully wiping the dirt 

off her hands on the back of Evan’s T-shirt. “If we need it, we’ll know where it is.” 

Evan’s red hair was matted to his forehead  with sweat. He had  a wide smear of 

dirt across his freckled forehead. “Huh? Why would we need it?” he demanded. 

Andy shrugged. “You never know.” 

“We won’t need it,” Evan told her firmly. “We won’t.” 

He was very, very wrong. 

  28 

11 

“Hey, Dad, what’s up?” Evan stepped into the garage. 

Mr.  Ross  stopped  hammering  and  turned  around.  He  smiled  at  Evan.  “Want  to 

see my newest work?” 

“Yeah.  Sure,”  Evan  replied.  Every  weekend,  his  father  spent  hour  after  hour  in 

his garage workshop, banging away on large sheets of metal, making what he called 

his “works”. 

He chiseled and hammered and sawed, and put a lot of effort into his sculptures. 

But to Evan, they all looked like banged-up sheets of metal when they were finished. 

Mr.  Ross  took  a  few  steps  back  to  admire  his  current  project.  He  lowered  his 

heavy  mallet  in  one  hand  and  pointed  with  the  chisel  he  held  in  his  other  hand.  “I 

used brass for this one,” he told Evan. “I call it ‘Autumn Leaf’.” 

Evan  studied  it  thoughtfully.  “It  looks  like  a  leaf,”  he  lied.  It  looks  like  Dad 

ruined a perfectly good piece of brass, he thought, trying to keep a straight face. 

“It’s not supposed to look like a leaf,” Mr. Ross corrected Evan. “It’s supposed to 

look like my impression of a leaf.” 

“Oh.” Evan scratched his curly, red hair as he studied it some more. “Neat, Dad,” 

he said. “I see what you mean.” 

Then something else caught his eye. “Hey—what’s this?” 

Evan  carefully  stepped  over  several  jagged,  bent  shards  of  metal.  He  made  his 

way  to  another  metal  sculpture  and  ran  his  hand  over  the  smooth,  shiny  surface.  It 

was an enormous aluminum cylinder that rested above a flat wooden base. 

“Go ahead. Spin it,” Mr. Ross instructed, smiling proudly. 

Evan pushed the cylinder with both hands. It spun slowly over the wooden base. 

“I call it ‘The Wheel’,” his father told him. 

Evan laughed. “That’s cool, Dad. You invented the wheel!” 

“Don’t  laugh!”  Mr.  Ross  replied,  grinning.  “That  sculpture  was  accepted  at  the 

annual  arts  competition  at  your  school.  I  have  to  take  it  to  the  auditorium  later  this 

week.” 

Evan  gave  “The  Wheel”  another  spin.  “I’ll  bet  no  one  else  made  a  wheel  that 

really spins,” he told his father. “You can’t lose with this, Dad,” he teased. 

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of humor,” Mr. Ross muttered with a frown. 

Evan said good-bye and made his way out of the garage, stepping carefully over 

the jagged pieces of brass and tin. As he headed to the house, he could hear the clang 

clang clang as his dad hammered away on his impression of a leaf. 

  29 

In the halls after school on Monday, Evan hurried around a corner and bumped right 

into  Andy.  “I  can’t  talk  now,”  he  told  her  breathlessly.  “I’m  late  for  basketball 

tryouts.” 

He glanced down the long hall. It was nearly empty. The gym door opened, and 

he could hear the thump of basketballs against the floor. 

“How come you’re late?” Andy demanded, blocking his path. 

“Murphy  kept  me  after  class,”  Evan  told  her  with  a groan.  “He  put  me  on 

permanent hamster duty. I have to take care of Cuddles every afternoon for the rest of 

my life.” 

“Bad news,” Andy murmured. 

“No. That’s the good news,” Evan replied bitterly. 

“What’s the bad news?” 

“The bad news is that Mr. Murphy is also the basketball coach!” 

“Well, good luck,” she said. “Hope you make the team.” 

Evan ran past her, his heart pounding. 

Mr. Murphy is such a rat, he thought unhappily. He’ll probably keep me off the 

team because I’m late to practice—even though it’s his fault I’m late! 

Evan took a deep breath. No. Stop thinking like that, he scolded himself. 

Think positive. I’ve got to think positive. 

Sure, I’m not as tall as the other guys. Maybe I’m not as big or as strong. But I’m 

a good basketball player. And I can make this team. 

I can make this team. I know I can! 

Having finished his pep talk to himself, Evan pulled open the double gym doors 

and stepped into the huge, brightly lit gym. 

“Think fast!” a voice called. 

Evan felt his face explode with pain. 

Then everything went black. 

  30 

12 

When  Evan  opened  his  eyes,  he  found  himself  staring  up  at  about  twenty  guys  and 

Mr. Murphy. 

He was stretched out fiat on his back on the gym floor. His face still hurt. A lot. 

He  reached  a  hand  up  and  touched  his  nose.  To  his  dismay,  it  felt  like  a  wilted 

leaf of lettuce. 

“You okay, Evan?” Mr. Murphy asked quietly. As the teacher leaned over Evan, 

the whistle that was on a string around his neck bumped against Evan’s chest. 

“Did my face explode?” Evan asked weakly. 

Some  of  the  guys  snickered.  Mr.  Murphy  glowered  at them  angrily.  Then  he 

turned back to Evan. “Conan hit you in the face with the basketball,” he reported. 

“He’s  got  bad  reflexes,  Coach,”  Evan  heard  Conan  say  from  somewhere  above 

him.  “He  should’ve  caught  the  ball.  I  really  thought  he’d  catch  it.  But  he’s  got  bad 

reflexes.” 

“I  saw  the  whole  thing,”  Conan’s  friend,  a  huge  hulk  of  a  kid  named  Biggie 

Malick, chimed in. “It wasn’t Conan’s fault. Evan should’ve caught the ball. It was a 

perfect pass.” 

Perfect,  Evan  thought  with  a  sigh.  He  touched  his  nose  again.  This  time,  it  felt 

like a lump of mashed potatoes. At least it isn’t broken, he thought glumly. 

Evan’s basketball tryout went downhill from there. 

Mr. Murphy helped him to his feet. “You sure you want to try out?” he asked. 

Thanks for the support, Evan thought bitterly. 

“I think I can make the team,” he said. 

But Conan, Biggie, and the other guys had other ideas. 

During  the  ball-handling  tryout,  Evan  confidently  began  dribbling  across  the 

floor.  Halfway  to  the  basket,  Biggie  bumped  him  hard—and  Conan  stole  the  ball 

away. 

They blocked Evan’s shots. They stole his passes. 

They bumped him every time he moved, sending him sprawling to the hardwood 

floor again and again. 

A fast pass from Conan caught Evan in the mouth. 

“Oops! Sorry!” Conan yelled. 

Biggie laughed like a hyena. 

“Defense! I want to see defense!” Mr. Murphy shouted from the sidelines. 

Evan lowered himself into a defensive stance. As Conan dribbled the ball toward 

him, Evan prepared to defend the basket. 

Conan drove closer. Closer. 

Evan raised both hands to block Conan’s shot. 

  31 

But to Evan’s surprise, Conan let the ball bounce away. In one swift motion, he 

grabbed Evan by the waist, leaped high in the air, and stuffed Evan into the basket. 

“Three points!” Conan shouted in triumph. 

Biggie and the other guys rushed to congratulate Conan, laughing and cheering. 

Mr. Murphy had to get a stepladder to help Evan down. 

His hand on Evan’s shoulder, the teacher led him to the side. “You’re just not tall 

enough,  Evan,”  he  said,  rubbing  his  pink  chins.  “Don’t  take  it  personally.  Maybe 

you’ll grow. But for now, you’re just not tall enough.” 

Evan didn’t say a word. He lowered his head and sadly slumped out of the gym. 

Conan  came  running  up  to  him  at  the  door.  “Hey,  Evan,  no  hard  feelings,”  he 

said. He stuck out his big, sweaty hand. “Shake.” 

Evan  held  up  his  hand  to  show  Andy.  “It  looks  like a  wilted  petunia,”  she  said.  “I 

can’t  believe  I  fell  for  Conan’s  stupid  handshake  trick  twice!”  Evan  wailed.  It  was 

the  next  afternoon.  Evan  and  Andy  had  walked  from  school  to  the  small  park  near 

their  houses.  Evan  had  complained  about  Mr.  Murphy  and  Conan  and  the  other 

basketball players the whole way. 

The  late  afternoon  sun  beamed  down  on  them  as  they walked.  Andy  stopped  to 

watch two monarch butterflies, their black-and-gold wings fluttering majestically  as 

they hovered over a patch of blue and yellow wildflowers along the creekbed. 

Even the trickling brown creek looked pretty on this bright day. Tiny white gnats 

sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight over the shimmering water. 

Evan kicked at a fallen tree branch. Everything looked dark to him today. 

Dark and ugly. 

“It  just  wasn’t  fair,”  he  grumbled,  kicking  the  branch  again.  “It  wasn’t  a  fair 

tryout. Mr. Murphy should have given me a better chance.” 

Andy tsk-tsked, her eyes on the sparkling creek. 

“Someone should teach Mr. Murphy a lesson,” Evan said. “I wish I could think of 

some way of paying him back. I really do.” 

Andy  turned  to  him.  A  devilish  grin  crossed  her  face.  “I  have  a  plan,”  she  said 

softly. “A really neat plan.” 

“What is it?” Evan demanded. 

  32 

13 

“What’s your idea?” Evan demanded again. 

Andy grinned at him. She was wearing a long, lime-green T-shirt over a Day-Glo 

orange T-shirt, pulled down over baggy blue shorts. The sunlight made all the colors 

so bright, Evan felt like shielding his eyes. 

“You might not like it,” Andy said coyly. 

“Try me,” Evan replied. “Come on. Don’t keep me in suspense.” 

“Well…” Her eyes wandered over to the tree where they had buried the Monster 

Blood. “It has to do with the Monster Blood,” she said reluctantly. 

He swallowed hard. “That’s okay. Go on.” 

“Well, it’s a pretty simple plan. First, we dig up the Monster Blood,” Andy said, 

watching his reaction. 

“Yeah?” 

“Then we take some to school,” she continued. 

“Yeah?” 

“Then we feed it to Cuddles.” 

Evan’s mouth dropped open. 

“Just  a  little  bit!”  Andy  quickly  explained.  “We  feed  Cuddles  a  tiny  glob  of  it. 

Just enough to make him the size of a dog.” 

Evan laughed. It was a terrible idea, a truly evil idea—but he loved it! 

He  slapped  Andy  on  the  back.  “You’re  bad,  Andy!”  he  cried.  “You’re  really 

bad!” 

Andy grinned proudly. “I know.” 

Evan laughed again. “Can you see the look on Murphy’s face when he comes in 

and  sees  his  precious  little  hamster  has  grown  as  big  as  a  cocker  spaniel?  What  a 

riot!” 

“So you’ll do it?” Andy asked. 

Evan’s smile faded. “I guess,” he replied thoughtfully. “If you promise we’ll only 

use a tiny bit. And we’ll bury the rest right away.” 

“Promise,” Andy said. “Just enough to play our little joke on Mr. Murphy. Then 

we’ll never use the stuff again.” 

“Okay,” Evan agreed. 

They shook hands solemnly. 

Then they hurried to the tree. Evan searched the entire park, squinting against the 

bright sunlight. He wanted to make sure no one was spying on them this time. 

When he was sure the park was empty, he and Andy dropped to their knees under 

the tree and began scooping the dirt off the hole with their hands. 

They had dug nearly two feet down when they realized the hole was empty. 

  33 

“The Monster Blood!” Evan cried. “It—it’s gone!” 

  34 

14 

“We  must  be  digging  under  the  wrong  tree,”  Evan  said,  sweat  pouring  down  his 

freckled forehead. 

Andy pushed a wet strand of brown hair off her face  with a dirt-covered finger. 

“No way.” She shook her head. “This is the right tree. And the right hole.” 

“Then where is the Monster Blood?” Evan demanded shrilly. 

They both came up with the answer to his question at the same time: “Conan!” 

“He must have watched us bury it,” Evan said, his eyes darting around the park as 

if he expected to see Conan jump out from behind a bush. “I thought he hurried away 

awfully fast that afternoon. He knew the paper bag wasn’t empty.” 

Andy agreed. “He hid and watched us bury it. Then he waited till we were gone, 

and dug it up.” 

They both stared into the empty hole in horrified silence. 

Andy  broke  the  silence.  “What  is  Conan  going  to  do with  it?”  she  asked,  her 

voice just above a whisper. 

“Probably  eat  it  so  he  can  grow  bigger  and  pound  me  harder,”  Evan  replied 

bitterly. 

“But he doesn’t know what Monster Blood does,” Andy said. “He doesn’t know 

how dangerous it is.” 

“Of course he does. I told him all about it,” Evan replied. He slammed his hand 

against the tree trunk. “We have to get it back!” 

Before science class the next afternoon, Evan found Conan in the hall. He and Biggie 

were  standing  next  to  Evan’s  locker.  They  were  laughing  loudly  about  something, 

slapping each other high-fives. 

Conan  wore  a  tight  blue  muscle  shirt  and  baggy  faded  denim  jeans  with 

enormous holes at the knees. Biggie had wavy brown hair down to his shoulders. He 

wore a sleeveless white T-shirt and tight-fitting black denims. 

They  look  like  a  couple  of  tag-team  wrestlers!  Evan  thought  as  he  stepped 

between them. 

“Hey, look—it’s Air Evan!” Conan joked. “King of the slam dunk!” 

He  and  Biggie  guffawed  loudly.  Conan  gave  Evan  a  slap  on  the  back  that  sent 

him sprawling into Biggie. 

“Uh…  Conan?  Did  you  find  something  in  the  park?”  Evan  asked,  struggling  to 

regain his balance. 

Conan narrowed his eyes at Evan and didn’t reply. 

“Did you find something that belongs to Andy and me?” Evan repeated. 

  35 

“You  mean  like  your brains?”  Conan  exclaimed.  He  and  his  tag-team  partner 

roared with laughter over that gem. 

“Why  don’t  we  dribble  him  to  class?”  Biggie  asked  Conan.  “Coach  Murphy 

would like to see us get in some extra practice.” 

Conan laughed gleefully at that idea. 

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” Evan said sarcastically. “Look, Conan—that stuff you took. 

It’s really dangerous. You have to give it back.” 

Conan opened his eyes in wide-eyed innocence. “I really don’t know what you’re 

talking about, Evan. Did you lose something?” 

“You know I lost something,” Evan replied sharply. “And I want it back.” 

Conan flashed a sly grin at Biggie. Then he turned back to Evan, his expression 

hardening. “I don’t know what you mean, Evan,” he said. “Really. I don’t know what 

you and that girl lost. But tell you what. I’m a nice guy. I’ll help you look for it.” 

He grabbed Evan around the waist with both hands. Biggie pulled Evan’s locker 

door open. 

“I’ll help you look for it in your locker,” Conan said. 

He shoved Evan inside the locker and slammed the door shut. 

Evan started pounding on the metal door, shouting for help. 

But the bell had rung. Evan knew the hall was empty. There was no one to hear 

his cries. 

He decided to try fiddling with the latch. But it was too dark to see anything. And 

he was so jammed in, he couldn’t raise his arms. 

Finally, two girls happened to walk by, and they pulled open the locker door. 

Evan came bursting out, red-faced, gasping for air. 

The  girls’  laughter  followed  him  all  the  way  to  Mr.  Murphy’s  class.  “You’re 

late,” the teacher said sternly, glancing up at the wall clock as Evan staggered in. 

Evan tried to explain why. But all that escaped his lips was a whistling wheeze. 

“I’m really tired of you disrupting my class, Evan,” Mr. Murphy said, rubbing his 

nearly  bald  head.  “I’m  afraid  I’ll  be  seeing  you  after  school  again.  You  can  give 

Cuddles’  cage  a  double  cleaning.  And  while  you’re  at  it,  you  can  scrub  the 

chalkboards and clean out all the test tubes, too.” 

* * * 

“It’s so dark,” Evan whispered. 

“It usually gets dark at night,” Andy replied, rolling her eyes. 

“The  streetlight  is  out,”  Evan  said,  pointing.  “And  there’s  no  moon  tonight. 

That’s why it’s so dark.” 

“Hide!” Andy whispered. 

They ducked behind the hedge as a car rolled slowly past. Evan shut his eyes as 

the white headlights moved over him. When the car turned the corner, they climbed 

to their feet. 

It  was  a  little  after  eight  o’clock.  They  were  standing  in  the  street  in  front  of 

Conan’s  house.  Leaning  against  the  low  hedge,  they stared  across  the  sloping  front 

lawn into the large picture window in the front of the house. 

  36 

The lamp in the living room was lit, casting a dim rectangle of orange light that 

spilled  onto  the  front  yard.  The  old  trees  at  the  sides  of  the  small  brick  house 

whispered in a hot breeze. 

“Are we really doing this?” Evan asked, huddling close to Andy. “Are we really 

going to break into Conan’s house?” 

“We’re not going to break in,” Andy whispered. “We’re going to sneak in.” 

“But what if the Monster Blood isn’t there?” Evan asked, hoping she couldn’t see 

his knees trembling. 

“We have to look, don’t we?” Andy shot back. 

She turned to study his face. He saw that she was frightened, too. “The Monster 

Blood will be there,” she told him. “It’s got to be.” 

Bending low, she started to creep across the dark yard to the house. 

Evan  hung  back.  “You  checked  it  out?”  he  called  to her.  “Everyone  is  really 

gone?” 

“His  parents  left  right  after  dinner,”  Andy  told  him.  “Then  I  saw  Conan  go  out 

about ten minutes ago,” 

“Where?” Evan demanded. 

“How  should  I  know?”  she  asked  sharply,  putting  her  hands  on  her  waist.  “He 

left. The house is empty.” She came back  and tugged  Evan’s  arm. “Come on.  Let’s 

sneak into Conan’s room, get the Monster Blood, and get out of here!” 

“I  can’t  believe  we’re  doing  this,”  Evan  said,  sighing.  “We—we  could  be 

arrested!” 

“It was your idea!” Andy reminded him. 

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” He took a deep breath and held it, hoping it would help calm 

him down. “If we don’t find it right away, we get out of there—right?” 

“Right,”  Andy  agreed.  “Now  come  on.”  She  gave  him  a  little  shove  toward  the 

house. 

They took a few steps over the dew-wet grass. 

They both stopped when they heard the low barking. 

Andy grabbed Evan’s arm. 

The  barking  grew  louder.  They  could  hear  the  dog’s heavy  paws  pounding  the 

ground, approaching fast. 

Two angry eyes. A loud warning bark. Another. 

The dog attacked at full speed. 

“Run!” Evan cried. “Conan has a guard dog!” 

“Too late to run!” Andy shrieked. 

  37 

15 

The dog barked again. 

Evan cried out and threw up his hands as the dog leaped for his throat. 

The dog wasn’t as big as Evan had thought—but it was strong. 

It licked his face, pressing its wet snout into his cheek. 

It licked his chin. And then his lips. 

“Yuck!” Evan cried, laughing. “Trigger—how did you get here?” 

Evan  pulled  the  cocker  spaniel  off  him  and  lowered it  to  the  ground.  Its  stubby 

tail wagging furiously, Trigger started jumping on Andy. 

“Your dumb dog scared me to death,” she moaned. 

“Me, too,” Evan admitted. “I didn’t hear him following us, did you?” 

Andy squatted down and gave Trigger a few quick pats. Then she glanced down 

the street. 

“Let’s get inside,” she said. “Conan or his parents could be back any minute.” 

Trigger  pranced  along  as  they  made  their  way  over  the  grass  to  the  front  door. 

The house loomed much bigger and darker as they crept onto the stoop. 

“Down, Trigger. Stay down,” Evan whispered. “You can’t come in with us.” 

Andy tried the front door. “Locked.” 

Evan groaned. “Now what?” 

“We try the back door, of course,” Andy replied. She had already jumped down 

off the stoop and was heading around the side of the house. 

“You’ve done this before—haven’t you?” Evan demanded, following her. 

“Maybe,” she replied, grinning at him in the dark. 

A loud howl somewhere nearby made them both stop. 

“What was that?” Evan cried. 

“A werewolf,” Andy told him calmly. “Or maybe a cat.” 

They both laughed. Nervous laughter. 

The back door was locked, too. But the kitchen window was open a crack. Evan 

pushed it open wider, and they crept into the dark kitchen. 

Holding his breath, Evan could hear every sound. Their sneakers scraped noisily 

against the linoleum. The refrigerator hummed. Water swirled in the dishwasher. 

I can even hear the pounding of my heart, Evan thought. What am I doing? Have 

I really broken into Conan’s house? 

“This way,” Andy whispered. “His room is probably upstairs.” 

Evan  kept  against  the  wall  as  he  followed  Andy  to  the  front  stairs.  They  passed 

the  small  living  room,  bathed  in  orange  light.  The floorboards  creaked  under  their 

shoes. Evan stumbled over a pile of old newspapers stacked in the narrow hallway. 

  38 

Up  the  wooden  stairs.  The  banister  squeaked  under  Evan’s  hand.  A  Venetian 

blind rattled against an open window, startling him. 

“Sure is dark,” Andy muttered as they reached the top of the stairs. 

Evan tried to reply, but his breath caught in his throat. 

Holding onto the wall, he followed Andy to the first bedroom. She fumbled until 

she found a light switch, then clicked it on. The  ceiling light revealed that they had 

found Conan’s room. 

They both stood in the doorway, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the light. Then 

they quickly glanced around. 

The walls of the small, square room were filled with posters of sports stars. The 

biggest poster, above Conan’s bed, showed Michael Jordan jumping about ten feet in 

the  air  as  he  slam-dunked  a  basketball.  A  bookshelf  against  one  wall  held  very  few 

books—but was loaded with sports trophies that Conan had won on various teams. 

Suddenly, Andy started to laugh. 

Evan turned to her, startled. “What’s so funny?” 

She pointed to Conan’s bed. “Look—he still has a teddy bear!” 

Evan  turned  his  eyes  to  the  bed,  where  a  forlorn-looking,  nearly  flat,  one-eyed 

teddy  bear  rested  on  the  pillow.  “Conan  the  Barbarian?”  he  cried,  laughing.  “He 

sleeps with a teddy bear?” 

A loud creak made them cut their laughter short. 

They listened hard, their eyes wide with fear. “Just the house,” Evan whispered. 

Andy  shivered.  “Enough  fooling  around.  Let’s  find  the  Monster  Blood  and  get 

out of here.” 

They  moved  into  the  center  of  the  room.  “Where  do  you  think  he  hid it?”  Evan 

asked, pulling open the closet door. 

“He didn’t,” Andy replied. 

“Huh?” Evan spun around. 

Andy had the blue can of Monster Blood in her hand. Grinning, she held it up to 

show Evan. 

Evan let out a surprised cry. “You found it? Where?” 

“Right on this shelf,” she replied, pointing. “He put it next to his tennis trophies.” 

Evan hurried over to her and took the blue can from her hand. As he held it up to 

examine it, the lid popped off. 

The green Monster Blood began bubbling over the top of the can. 

“It’s growing fast!” Evan declared. 

Andy stooped down and picked up the lid. She handed it to Evan. “Put it back on. 

Hurry.” 

Evan tried pushing the lid back on. It kept slipping off. 

“Hurry up,” Andy urged. “We’ve got to go.” 

“The Monster Blood—it’s up over the top,” Evan cried. 

“Shove it down,” Andy instructed. 

Evan tried pushing the green gunk down into the can, pressing against it with the 

palm of his hand. Then he tried pushing it with three fingers. 

  39 

He  gasped  as  he  felt  the  green  goo  tighten  around  his  fingers  and  start  to  pull 

them down. 

“It—it’s got me!” Evan stammered. 

Andy’s mouth dropped open. “Huh?” 

“It’s got my fingers!” Evan cried shrilly. “It won’t let go!” 

As Andy hurried to help him, they both heard the front door slam. 

“Someone’s  home!”  Evan  whispered,  tugging  to  pull  his  fingers  free.  “We’re 

caught!” 

  40 

16 

Andy froze in the center of the room, her eyes wide with horror. 

Evan  nearly  dropped  the  can  of  Monster  Blood.  The  sticky  green  substance 

tightened its grip on his fingers, making loud sucking sounds. 

But Evan only cared about the sounds coming from downstairs. 

“I’m home!” he heard Conan shout. 

“We’re home, too!” It was a woman’s voice, probably Conan’s mother. 

“They’re all home,” Evan whispered. 

“We’re dead meat!” Andy murmured. 

“I’m going upstairs,” Conan called to his parents. 

Evan  let  out  a  terrified  cry  as  he  heard  Conan’s  heavy  footsteps  on  the  stairs. 

“Andy—wh-what do we do?” he stammered. 

“The window!” she replied. 

They  both  lunged  toward  the  open  window  and  peered out.  A  narrow  concrete 

ledge stretched just beneath the window. 

Without hesitating, Andy  raised a leg over the  windowsill and climbed  out onto 

the ledge. “Evan—hurry!” she whispered, gesturing frantically. 

Evan was still desperately trying to pull his fingers from the bubbling green goo. 

Andy reached in through the window and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Evan—!” 

He heard Conan’s footsteps in the upstairs hall just outside the bedroom. 

Using his free hand for support, Evan scrambled out the window and joined Andy 

on the narrow ledge. 

“D-don’t look down,” Andy instructed in a trembling whisper. 

Evan didn’t obey. He glanced down. The ground seemed very far below. 

They each stood on a side of the window—Andy to the left, Evan the right. They 

pressed their bodies against the brick wall—and listened. 

They heard Conan step into the room. 

Did he notice that the light had been turned on? 

No way to tell. 

Loud rap music suddenly jarred the silence. Conan had turned on his boom box. 

He started chanting off-key along with the music. 

Evan pressed as tightly against the side of the house as he could. 

Go back downstairs, Conan, he pleaded silently. Please—go back downstairs! 

How  will  Andy  and  I  ever  get  away  from  here?  he  wondered,  feeling  all  of  his 

muscles tighten in panic. 

Despite  the  hot  night  air,  a  cold  chill  ran  down  Evan’s  back.  He  shuddered  so 

hard, he nearly toppled off the ledge. 

  41 

The blue can stuck to his hand. The Monster Blood sucked at his fingers. But he 

couldn’t worry about that now. 

He could hear Conan moving around inside the room. Was he dancing to the loud 

music? 

Evan  glanced  across  the  window  at  Andy.  Her  eyes  were  shut.  Her  face  was 

clenched in a tight frown. 

“Andy—!”  Evan  whispered.  He  knew  that  Conan  couldn’t  hear  a  whisper  over 

the  booming  music.  “Andy—it’ll  be  okay.  As  soon  as he  leaves,  we’ll  jump  inside 

and sneak down the stairs.” 

Andy  nodded  without  opening  her  eyes.  “Did  I  ever  tell  you  I’m  afraid  of 

heights?” she whispered. 

“No,” Evan replied. 

“Well, remind me to tell you!” 

“We’ll be okay,” he murmured. 

Clinging  to  the  side  of  the  house,  Evan  kept  repeating  those  words  to  himself. 

“We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.” 

Then Trigger started to bark. 

A low bark of surprise at first. And then a louder series of barks, insistent barks, 

excited barks. 

Evan swallowed hard. He glanced down to the ground. 

Trigger was peering up at him, jumping against the side of the house, as if trying 

to reach the ledge. The dog barked louder with each jump. 

“Trigger—no!” Evan called down in a frantic whisper. 

That only made the dog bark more furiously. 

Did Conan hear it? Could he hear Trigger’s ferocious barks over the music? 

“Trigger—stop! Go home! Go home!” 

Suddenly the music stopped. 

Trigger’s excited barks rose up even louder against the new silence. 

Conan must hear them now, Evan realized. 

The  cocker  spaniel  threw  himself  wildly  against  the  side  of  the  house,  trying  to 

get  up  to  Evan  and  Andy.  Despite  Evan’s  frantic  signals  to  be  quiet,  the  dumb  dog 

barked his head off. 

Evan’s  breath  caught  in  his  throat  as  he  heard  Conan  making  his  way  to  the 

window. 

A second later, Conan stuck his head out. “What’s going on?” he shouted. 

Evan’s knees buckled. He started to fall. 

  42 

17 

Evan clung to the brick wall and stopped his fall. 

He stared at Conan’s blond hair poking out the window. Evan was close enough 

to reach out and touch it. 

“Shut up down there!” Conan shouted. 

That made Trigger bark even louder. 

He’s going to see us, Evan thought, trembling all over. 

There’s no way Conan won’t see us. 

“Conan—come  downstairs!”  Mrs.  Barber’s  voice  floated  up  from  downstairs. 

“Conan—come  down  and  have  your  cake  and  ice  cream. You  said  you  were  dying 

for dessert!” she called. 

Conan’s  head  disappeared  back  into  the  bedroom.  “There’s  some  stupid  dog 

barking down there,” he called to his mother. 

Clinging  to  the  side  of  the  house,  struggling  to  keep  his  quivering  knees  from 

buckling again, Evan shut his eyes and listened. 

He heard Conan’s footsteps cross the room. The bedroom light went out. 

Silence. 

“He—left,” Evan choked out. 

Andy let out a long breath. “I can’t believe he didn’t see us out here.” 

Evan  glanced  down  to  the  ground.  Trigger  had  finally  stopped  barking.  But  he 

continued to stand and stare up at them, his front paws against the side of the house, 

his stubby tail spinning like a propeller. 

“Dumb dog,” Evan muttered. 

“Let’s go,” Andy urged. She didn’t wait for Evan. She practically did a swan dive 

into the house. 

It took Evan a few moments to get his legs to work. Then he ducked his head and 

climbed through the window after Andy. 

Holding his breath, he led the way on tiptoe to the bedroom door. He stopped and 

listened. 

Silence. No one in the dark hallway. 

He could hear the Barbers’ voices downstairs in the kitchen. 

He and Andy made their way to the top of the stairs. Then, holding tightly to the 

banister, they crept halfway down. 

Evan  stopped  to  listen  again.  Andy  bumped  right  into  him,  nearly  sending  him 

sailing down the stairs. “Shhh!” she cried. 

They could hear Conan talking to his parents in the kitchen. He was complaining 

about the other guys on the basketball team. “They’re all wimps,” Evan heard Conan 

say. 

  43 

“Well, that’ll make you look even better,” Mr. Barber replied. 

Evan  took  another  deep  breath  and  held  it.  Then  he made  his  way  down  to  the 

bottom of the stairs. 

Almost out, he thought, his entire body shaking. Almost out of here. 

He reached for the front doorknob. 

“Conan, go upstairs and get your math book,” he heard Mr. Barber say. “I want to 

see the homework you had trouble with.” 

“Okay,” Conan replied. His chair scraped against the floor. 

Andy grabbed Evan’s shoulder. 

They  stared  in  frozen  horror  at  each  other—one  foot  away  from  escape—and 

waited to be caught. 

  44 

18 

“Conan—don’t go now. Get the book later,” Mrs. Barber chimed in. Then they heard 

her scold Conan’s father: “Let the boy have his cake and ice cream.” 

“Fine, fine,” Mr. Barber replied. “He can show me the book later.” 

Conan’s chair scraped back into place under the table. 

Evan didn’t wait another second. 

He jerked open the front door, pushed open the screen door, and burst out of the 

house like a rocket. 

He  could  hear  Andy  gasping  as  she  ran  behind  him.  And  then  he  could  hear 

Trigger’s shrill yips as the dog followed, too. 

Down  the  Barbers’  front  lawn,  into  the  street.  Their  sneakers  slapped  the 

pavement as they ran full speed through the darkness. 

They didn’t stop until they reached Evan’s driveway. 

Evan  leaned  against  his  family’s  mailbox  and  struggled  to  catch  his  breath.  He 

raised his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead—and saw the blue can still stuck 

there. 

“Help me,” he pleaded. He reached out his hand to Andy. 

She was breathing hard, too. Her eyes kept darting back down the street, as if she 

expected Conan to be chasing after them. 

“Close  one,”  she  murmured.  She  turned  to  Evan.  Her eyes  glowed  excitedly  in 

the light from the streetlamp. “That was fun!” 

Evan didn’t agree. In his opinion, it was far too scary to be fun. And here he was, 

still stuck to the can of Monster Blood. 

He  pushed  his  hand  toward  Andy.  “Pull  it  off,”  he  told  her.  “I  think  you  need 

both hands. I can’t do it.” 

She  grabbed  the  can  in  both  hands.  The  green  gunk  bubbled  over  the  sides, 

making loud sucking sounds. 

Andy tugged. Then tugged harder. Then she took a deep breath, leaned back, and 

tugged with all her might. 

The  Monster  Blood  finally  let  go  of  its  grip  on  Evan’s  fingers.  The  can  slid  off 

with a loud pop. Andy went tumbling back onto the pavement. 

“Ow!”  Evan  held  up  his  three  fingers  and  tried  to  examine  them  under  the 

streetlight.  They  were  all  wrinkled  and  pruney,  the  way  they  looked  when  he  had 

been swimming for an hour or two. 

“Yuck! That stuff is so gross!” he cried. 

Andy climbed slowly to her feet. She still cradled the Monster Blood can in both 

hands. “At least we got it back,” she murmured. 

“Yeah. Now we can bury it again,” Evan said, still examining his fingers. 

  45 

“Huh? Bury it?” Andy pulled the can away, as if protecting it from Evan. 

“You heard me,” Evan said firmly. “It’s just too dangerous to mess with, Andy. 

Take it home and bury it in your back yard, okay?” 

Andy stared down at the can. She didn’t reply. 

“Bury it,” Evan repeated. “Take it home and bury it. Promise?” 

“Well…” Andy hesitated. Then she said, “Okay. Promise.” 

Evan woke up with a bad sore throat the next morning. 

His mother worried that he might be coming down with the flu. So she kept him 

home from school. Evan spent the day reading comic books and watching MTV. His 

sore throat disappeared by midafternoon. 

He returned to school the next day, feeling refreshed and ready to see everyone. 

The good feeling lasted until he stepped into Mr. Murphy’s science class near the 

end of the day. Evan had to walk past the hamster cage to get to his seat. 

As he neared the cage, he peered in. 

That’s weird, he thought. Where’s Cuddles? 

When did Mr. Murphy get a rabbit? 

A rabbit?! 

He stopped and leaned closer to the cage. 

Familiar black eyes stared up at him. A familiar pink nose twitched at him. 

It was Cuddles, Evan realized. 

Cuddles had grown as big as a rabbit! 

  46 

19 

Evan  leaned  over  the  hamster  cage,  staring  at  the  giant-sized  Cuddles,  as  the  bell 

rang. He turned to see that the other kids had all taken their seats. 

“Evan,  I see  you’re examining  your victim,” Mr. Murphy  said from the  front of 

the room. 

“I—uh—” Evan couldn’t think of a reply. “Victim?” 

Mr.  Murphy  angrily  narrowed  his  beady  black  eyes  at  Evan.  “You’ve  been 

overfeeding Cuddles, Evan. Look how fat he has become.” 

Almost as fat as you! Evan wanted to say. 

Evan knew that Cuddles’ weight problem wasn’t his fault. 

And it had nothing to do with overeating. 

Cuddles had grown to triple-hamster size because of Monster Blood. 

“When I find Andy, I’ll strangle her!” Evan muttered. 

“What did you say, Evan?” Mr. Murphy demanded. 

Evan could feel his face turning bright red. He hadn’t meant to talk out loud. 

“Uh… nothing,” he replied, totally embarrassed. He slunk to his seat. 

Andy has gone too far this time, he thought bitterly. She promised she’d bury the 

Monster Blood. She promised! 

And  now  she’s  turned  Cuddles  into  a  fat  freak!  And Murphy  thinks  it’s  all  my 

fault! 

“Please  stay  after  school,”  Mr.  Murphy  told  Evan,  “so  we  can  discuss  Cuddles’ 

diet.” 

Evan heard some kids snickering. He knew they were laughing at him. 

He  saw  Conan  and  Biggie  at  their  seats  in  the  back.  Conan  was  twitching  his 

nose, puffing out his cheeks, pretending to be a fat hamster. Biggie was laughing his 

head off. 

Evan  stared  at  the  hamster  all  through  class.  Cuddles  appeared  to  grow  right 

before Evan’s eyes. With each breath, the hamster seemed to puff up wider and taller. 

Its  black  eyes  were  as  big  as  marbles  now.  They  stared  back  at  Evan,  as  if 

accusing him. 

When the hamster moved to its water tube, the entire cage rattled and shook. 

Please  don’t  grow  anymore! Evan  pleaded  silently,  staring  at  the  shaking  cage. 

Please stop right now, Cuddles. Okay? 

The hamster breathed noisily. Wheezing gasps. Evan could hear Cuddles panting 

all the way across the room. 

The  cage  shook  again  as  Cuddles  turned  around.  Evan  watched  in  horror  as  the 

cage nearly toppled off its table. 

I’ll kill Andy! Evan thought bitterly. How could she do this to me? 

  47 

When the bell rang, the other kids all gathered up their books and headed out the 

door. Evan stood up and walked over to Cuddles’ cage. 

Panting loudly, Cuddles stared up at him. He’s too big to fit on his wheel, Evan 

realized. If he grows any more, he’ll burst out of the cage! 

How  much  Monster  Blood  did  Andy  feed  him? Evan  wondered.  He  had  to  find 

out. 

He turned to Mr. Murphy, who was reading over some papers at his desk. “I’ve 

got to find someone,” Evan called up to him. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Don’t take too long,” the teacher replied without looking up. 

Evan hurried from the room—and ran into Conan. “Hey, I was looking for you,” 

Conan  said,  sidestepping  to  the  right,  then  the  left,  and  stretching  out  both  arms  to 

keep Evan from getting away. 

“No time now,” Evan said sharply. But Conan wouldn’t let him pass. “I’m kind 

of  in  a  hurry,”  Evan  told  him.  “I  don’t  have  time  to  be  stuffed  into  my  locker  right 

now.” 

A big grin crossed Conan’s handsome face. “Hey, I’m sorry about that,” he said, 

his blue eyes twinkling. 

“Huh? You’re sorry?” Evan’s mouth dropped open in shock. 

“Yeah. No hard feelings,” Conan said, lowering his eyes. “Shake.” 

Evan  stuck  out  his  hand.  Then  remembered  Conan’s  crushing  handshake.  He 

tried to pull back his hand. 

Too late. 

Conan gripped it tightly and began to squeeze. As he squeezed Evan’s hand, his 

grin grew wider and wider. 

Down the hall, Evan saw Andy heading out the door. He tried to call to her. But 

all that came out of his mouth was a squeak of pain. 

Andy disappeared out the front door of the school. 

The bones in Evan’s hand cracked and crunched. 

When Conan finally let go, the hand looked like a sad lump of soft red clay. 

“Wow!  That’s  some  handshake  you’ve  got!”  Conan  cried,  laughing.  He 

pretended his hand hurt. He shook it hard and blew on it. “You killed me that time! 

You been working out or something?” 

Conan headed off to basketball practice, laughing and shaking his hand. 

He really cracks himself up, Evan thought. An angry cry burst from his throat. He 

slammed  his  good  hand  into  a  locker.  He  was  so  furious,  he  thought  he  could  feel 

steam pouring out his ears. 

“Evan—you’re keeping me waiting!” Mr. Murphy called in a singsong from the 

classroom doorway. 

“Coming,” Evan muttered miserably, and slunk back into the room. 

He tried calling Andy for hours that night. But there was no one home. 

In his sleep, he dreamed that Trigger ate a big glob of Monster Blood and grew to 

giant size. Evan tried to stop him. But the enormous dog took off after the mailman. 

It wasn’t much of a chase. Trigger caught the mailman easily. The mailman was 

the size of a hamster. 

  48 

Evan woke up drenched with sweat. He glanced at his bedtable clock. Only six in 

the morning. He normally didn’t get up until seven. 

He climbed out of bed, anyway, feeling shaky and scared. 

He decided he had to get to school before everyone else. He had to see if Cuddles 

had grown any bigger. 

“Evan—where are you going?” his mother called sleepily as Evan headed out the 

front door. 

“Uh—school,” Evan replied. He had hoped to sneak out before she woke up. 

“So early?” She padded into the room, struggling with the belt to her blue cotton 

robe. 

“Well… I have a science project I need to work on,” Evan told her. It was almost 

the truth. 

“A science project?” She eyed him suspiciously. 

“Yeah. It’s… big!” Evan replied, thinking quickly. “It’s really big! So I couldn’t 

bring it home.” 

“You’re going without any breakfast?” Mrs. Ross demanded, yawning. 

“I’ll  grab  something  at  school,”  he  said.  “Later,  Mom.”  He  disappeared  out  the 

door before she could ask any more questions. 

A red sun was just climbing over the trees in a gray sky. The air still carried the 

chill of the night. The lawns Evan passed shimmered wetly with morning dew. 

He jogged the whole way, his backpack flopping heavily on his shoulder. There 

were no other kids on the playground or on the walk heading into the building. 

He  crept  into  the  school  and  made  his  way  down  the silent,  empty  hall.  His 

sneakers echoed loudly as he trotted toward the science classroom. 

Maybe Cuddles didn’t grow overnight, Evan told himself. 

Maybe he didn’t grow at all. Maybe he shrank. Maybe he shrank back to his old 

size. 

It was possible. 

It was possible that Andy had fed the hamster only a teeny tiny speck of Monster 

Blood.  Just  enough  for  Cuddles  to  swell  up  to  the  size  of  a  fat  rabbit—then  shrink 

right back down to cute, cuddly hamster size. 

It was possible—wasn’t it? 

Yes! Yes! Evan crossed his fingers on both hands. He wished he could cross his 

toes. 

By  the  time  he  reached  the  classroom,  he  was  breathless.  His  heart  thudded 

loudly in his chest. 

He hesitated at the door. 

Please, Cuddles—be small. Be small! 

Then Evan took a deep breath, held it—and stepped inside. 

  49 

20 

Evan stepped into the room, staring at the cage against the far wall. At first, he didn’t 

see Cuddles. 

Had Cuddles shrunk? Had he? 

Sometimes  prayers  are  answered,  Evan  told  himself. Sometimes  good  things 

happen. 

Evan took a few hesitant steps closer. Then a few more steps. 

Every muscle in his body had tensed. He was so frightened, it was actually hard 

to walk. 

He  could  feel  the  blood  throbbing  at  his  temples.  He  mopped  the  cold  beads  of 

sweat off his forehead. 

He still couldn’t see Cuddles. Where was he? 

Where? 

Gray  morning  light  filtered  in  through  the  windows.  The  floor  creaked  under 

Evan’s sneakers. 

Evan took another hesitant step toward the cage. 

Another step. 

Then he cried out in horror. 

Evan hadn’t seen Cuddles at first—because Cuddles was too big! 

Cuddles filled the entire cage. 

Evan held back, gaping in disbelief. 

The hamster groaned noisily with every loud breath. It let out several disgusting 

grunts as its body pressed against the wire cage. 

Its  big,  furry  head  pushed  up  against  the  top  of  the  cage.  Evan  could  see  one 

enormous black eye, the size of a jar lid, staring out at him. 

“No!”  Evan  cried  out  loud,  feeling  his  knees  begin to  tremble.  “This  is 

impossible!” 

The hamster uttered a few more low grunts. 

The cage shook on its table. 

The big black eye glared out at Evan. 

And  then  as  Evan  stared  in  horrified  disbelief,  the  hamster  reached  up  its  two 

pink paws. The toes slipped around the wires of the cage. 

Cuddles let out an ugly groan. 

Evan saw its spongy pink nose twitch. He saw a flash of big white teeth. 

Another groan. 

The two front paws pushed against the cage wires. 

The wires bent away. 

  50 

Cuddles grunted again, wheezing loudly, excitedly. 

He pushed the  cage wires aside. Then he started  to squeeze his big,  fur-covered 

body through the opening. What do I do? Evan frantically asked himself. What do I 

do now? Cuddles is escaping! 

  51 

21 

“So what did you do?” Andy asked. 

They  were sitting together in the tall  grass of the tiny park, watching the  brown 

creek trickle past. The late afternoon sun felt warm on their backs. Crickets chirped 

in the trees behind them. 

Three boys rolled past on bikes on the other side of the creek, heading home from 

school. One of them waved to Evan. He didn’t wave back. 

Andy  wore  a  bright  red  sleeveless  T-shirt  over  white  denim  jeans.  She  had 

slipped off her yellow sneakers and was digging her bare feet into the soft ground. 

“So what did you do?” she repeated. 

Evan picked up a hard clump of dirt and tossed it into the creek. Then he leaned 

back, his hands planted firmly behind him on the ground. 

“I got a dog leash,” he told Andy. “In the supply closet.” 

Andy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Murphy keeps a dog leash? What for?” 

Evan shrugged. “He has all kinds of junk back there.” 

“So you put the leash on Cuddles?” 

“Yeah,” Evan told her. “He was just the right size. As big as a dog. Maybe a little 

bigger.” 

“As big as Trigger?” Andy demanded. 

Evan nodded. “Then I tied the other end to the leg of Murphy’s desk—and I ran 

out of there as fast as I could.” 

Andy  laughed.  But  she  cut  it  short  when  she  caught Evan’s  angry  glare.  “What 

happened when you went to science class?” she asked, turning back to the creek. 

“I didn’t,” Evan muttered. 

“Huh?” 

“I didn’t go,” Evan said softly. “I was afraid to go. I didn’t want Murphy to start 

blaming me in front of everyone.” 

“So you cut class?” Andy asked, startled. 

Evan nodded. 

“So what did you do?” Andy asked. She pulled up a handful of the tall grass and 

let it sift through her fingers. 

“I sneaked out and came here,” Evan replied, frowning. 

“Everyone  was  talking  about  Cuddles  all  day,”  Andy reported.  Her  dark  eyes 

flashed. She couldn’t keep an amused grin off her face. “Everyone had to go in and 

see him. The stupid hamster practically caused a riot!” 

“It isn’t funny,” Evan murmured. 

  52 

“It’s kind of  funny!”  Andy  insisted.  “Mr.  Murphy  was  bragging that  Cuddles 

could  beat  up  any  other  hamster  in  the  country.  He said  he  was  going  to  try  to  get 

Cuddles on TV!” 

“Huh?” Evan jumped to his feet. “You mean Mr. Murphy wasn’t upset?” 

“I heard that he was at first,” Andy replied thoughtfully. “But then I guess he got 

used to Cuddles being so big. And he was acting kind of proud. You know. Like he 

had  the  biggest  pumpkin  at  the  fair  or  something.  A  blue-ribbon  winner!”  Andy 

snickered. 

Evan kicked at the grass. “I know he’s going to blame me. I know it!” 

“Everyone was feeding Cuddles carrots all day,” Andy said, not seeming to hear 

Evan’s unhappy wails. “The hamster ate the carrots whole. One big chomp. Then it 

made this really gross swallowing sound. It was a riot.” 

“I can’t believe this!” Evan groaned. He lowered his eyes angrily to Andy. “Why 

did you do it? Why?” 

Andy gazed up at him innocently. “I wanted to give you a laugh,” she replied. 

“Huh? A laugh?” he shrieked. 

“You were looking pretty down. I thought it might cheer you up.” 

Evan let out an angry cry. 

“I guess it didn’t cheer you up,” Andy muttered. 

She pulled up another handful of grass and let the blades fall over the legs of her 

white jeans. 

Evan stomped over to the edge of the creek. He kicked a rock into the water. 

“Come on, Evan,” Andy called. “You have to admit it’s a little funny.” 

He  spun  around  to  face  her.  “It’s  not,”  he  insisted.  “Not  funny  at  all.  What  if 

Cuddles just keeps growing and growing? Then what?” 

“We  could  put  a  saddle  on  his  back  and  give  everyone  hamster  rides!”  She 

giggled. 

Evan scowled and kicked another rock into the creek. “You know how dangerous 

that Monster Blood is,” he scolded. “What are we going to do? How are we going to 

get Cuddles back to hamster size?” 

Andy shrugged. She pulled up another handful of grass. 

The sun sank lower behind the trees. A shadow rolled over them. Two little kids 

chased  a  white-and-red  soccer  ball  on  the  other  side  of  the  creek.  Their  mother 

shouted to them not to get wet. 

“Where’s  the  Monster  Blood  can?”  Evan  demanded,  standing  over  Andy. 

“Maybe  it  tells  the  antidote  on  the  can.  Maybe  it  tells  how  to  reverse  the  whole 

thing.” 

Andy  shook  her  head.  “Evan,  you  know  it  doesn’t  say  anything  on  the  can.  No 

instructions.  No  ingredients.  Nothing.”  She  climbed  to  her  feet  and  brushed  off  the 

legs  of  her  jeans.  “I’ve  got  to  get  home.  My  aunt  doesn’t  know  where  I  am.  She’s 

probably having a cow.” 

Evan followed her toward the street, shaking his head. “How big?” he muttered. 

She glanced back at him. “What did you say?” 

“How  big  will  Cuddles  be  tomorrow?”  Evan  asked  in  a  trembling  voice.  “How 

big?” 

  53 

22 

“Andy—will you hurry up?” 

Evan had agreed to meet Andy at her aunt’s house the next morning so they could 

go to school early. But Andy had found a spot on her jeans and had gone back up to 

her room to change. 

And now they were no longer early. 

“Sorry,” she said, hurtling down the stairs two steps at a time. She had changed 

her entire outfit. Now she had on a red-and-black-striped vest over a yellow T-shirt, 

pulled down over pale blue shorts. 

“Didn’t  you  leave  out  a  color?”  Evan  demanded  sarcastically,  grabbing  Andy’s 

backpack for her and hurrying to the front door. 

She made a face at him. “I like bright colors. It suits my personality.” 

“Your personality is late!” he declared. 

She followed him out the door and down the front lawn to the sidewalk. “At least 

I have a personality!” she cried. “What’s your hurry, anyway?” 

Evan  didn’t  answer.  He  adjusted  his  backpack  on  his  shoulder,  then  began 

running toward school. 

“Hey—wait up!” Andy called, running after him. 

“How  much  Monster  Blood  did  you  give  Cuddles,  anyway?”  Evan  demanded 

without slowing his pace. “The whole can?” 

“No way!” Andy called breathlessly. “Just a spoonful. He seemed to like it.” 

“I guess he liked being as big as a dog, too,” Evan said, turning the corner. The 

tall, redbrick school building came into view. 

“Maybe he’s back to normal today,” Andy said. 

But as they came near the building, it was easy to tell that things were not normal. 

Evan  heard  a  loud  crash  from  the  side  of  the  building.  It  sounded  like  glass 

shattering. 

Then he heard excited shouts. Loud kids’ voices filled with alarm. 

“What’s going on?” Andy cried. 

They  dove  up  the  stairs  and  burst  into  the  building.  Running  full  speed,  they 

turned the corner and made their way to the science classroom. 

Evan reached it a few steps ahead of Andy. Hearing excited shouts and cries, he 

lurched into the room—and then stopped with a startled cry. 

“No! Oh, please—no!” 

“Stand back! Everyone stand back!” a red-faced Mr. Murphy was screaming. 

Cuddles uttered a loud grunt and flailed his giant legs wildly in the air. 

“He—he’s ten feet tall!” Evan heard Andy scream at his side. 

“Al-almost!” Evan stammered. 

  54 

The  grunting,  groaning  hamster  towered  over  Mr.  Murphy.  Its  pink  paws  batted 

the air. Its monstrous mouth opened wide, revealing two enormous, sharp white teeth. 

“Back! Everyone back!” Mr. Murphy shrieked. 

The terrified kids in the classroom pressed back against the walls. 

Mr.  Murphy  picked  up  a  wooden  chair  in  one  hand,  the  torn  dog  leash  in  the 

other.  Holding  the  chair  by  the  back,  he  came  at  the  grunting  monster  like  a  lion 

tamer. 

“Down, Cuddles! Get down! Sit! Sit!” 

He  poked  the  wooden  chair  up  at  the  giant  hamster  and  snapped  the  dog  leash 

like a whip. 

Cuddles’ watery black eyes, as big as soccer balls, glared down at the red-faced 

teacher.  The  hamster  didn’t  seem  terribly  impressed  with  Mr.  Murphy’s  lion-tamer 

act. 

“Down,  Cuddles!  Get  down!”  The  teacher’s  chins  quivered,  and  his  big  belly 

bounced up and down beneath his tight gray knit polo shirt. 

Cuddles  pulled  back  his  huge  lips  and  bared  his  white  teeth.  He  let  out  a  growl 

that made the light fixtures shake. 

Terrified  cries  rang  out  through  the  room.  Evan  glanced  back  to  see  a  horrified 

crowd of teachers and students jammed in the doorway. 

“Down, Cuddles!” 

Mr.  Murphy  shoved  the  wooden  chair  up  at  the  raging  hamster.  He  cracked  the 

dog-leash whip near the hamster’s throbbing, fur-covered belly. 

The huge black eyes stared down angrily at Mr. Murphy. The pink hamster paws 

clawed in the air. 

Andy  grabbed  Evan’s  shoulder  and  held  on  tight.  “This  is  terrible!”  she  cried. 

“Terrible!” 

Evan started to reply—but frightened shrieks drowned out his words. 

Cuddles grabbed the chair with both paws. 

“Drop! Drop!” Mr. Murphy screamed. He struggled to hold on to the chair. 

Cuddles pulled the chair. Mr. Murphy desperately held tight. He let the leash fall 

so he could hold on to the chair with both hands. 

The teacher and Cuddles had a short tug-of-war. 

Cuddles  won  easily.  The  hamster  pulled  the  chair  up,  nearly  jerking  Mr. 

Murphy’s arms out of their sockets. 

With a loud groan, the teacher toppled heavily to the floor. 

Kids screamed. 

Two teachers rushed forward to help the gasping Mr. Murphy to his feet. 

Evan  stared  up  as  the  hamster  raised  the  wooden  chair  to  its  mouth.  The 

enormous white teeth opened quickly. The pink nose twitched. The watery black eyes 

blinked. 

Then Cuddles chewed the wooden chair to pieces. 

Splinters rained down on the floor. 

The chomping teeth sounded like a lumberjack’s ax biting into a tree. 

Evan froze in horror along with everyone else in the room. 

  55 

Andy  was  squeezing  his  shoulder  so  hard,  it  hurt.  “This  is our fault,”  she 

murmured. 

“Our fault?” Evan cried. “Our fault?” 

She  ignored  his  sarcasm.  He  saw  the  fear  in  her  eyes  as  she  stared  up  at  the 

hamster. Cuddles had turned the chair into toothpicks! 

“We’ve got to do something, Evan,” she whispered, huddled close to him. 

“But what?” Evan replied in a trembling voice. “What can we do?” 

Then, suddenly, he had an idea. 

  56 

23 

“Come with me!” Evan cried, tugging Andy’s arm. 

She hesitated, staring up at the giant hamster. “Where?” 

“I have an idea,” Evan told her. “But we have to hurry!” 

Cuddles  lumbered  over  to  Mr.  Murphy’s  desk.  The  hamster’s  heavy  footsteps 

made the floor sag. 

“Here,  fella!  Here!”  Mr.  Murphy  was  tossing  handfuls  of  sunflower  seeds  up  to 

Cuddles. Cuddles glared down at him. The seeds were too small to bother with. 

“Hurry!” Evan pleaded. He pulled Andy through the frightened crowd of kids and 

teachers at the door. Then he began running full speed toward the auditorium. 

“We can’t just run away! We have to do something!” Andy cried. 

“We’re  not  running  away,”  Evan  called  back  to  her, turning  a  corner.  “My 

father’s sculpture—it’s in the auditorium.” 

“Huh?”  Andy’s  eyes  narrowed  in  confusion.  “Evan—have  you  totally lost it? 

Why do you want to look at your father’s sculpture now?” 

He burst through the auditorium doors and ran past the dark rows of seats toward 

the stage. Several pieces of sculpture had been set up there. 

“Evan—I don’t get it!” Andy cried, right behind him. 

“Look,” Evan said breathlessly. He pointed to his father’s work near the back of 

the stage. “My dad’s sculpture. It’s just like a hamster wheel—see?” 

Her mouth dropped open as she stared at it. 

“It’s a big metal wheel and it spins,” Evan explained as they pulled themselves up 

onto the stage. “Come on. Help me drag it back  to Murphy’s room.  It’s big enough 

for Cuddles.” 

“Whoa!” Andy cried. “You want to bring Cuddles a wheel? What for?” 

“To  distract  him,”  Evan  replied,  grabbing  one  side of  the  big  sculpture.  “If  we 

can  get  Cuddles  running  on  this  wheel,  it  will  give  us  time  to  figure  out  where  to 

keep him. And it will stop him from chewing the whole school to pieces.” 

Andy  grabbed  hold  of  the  other  side,  one  hand  on  the  wheel,  one  hand  on  the 

platform.  “Maybe  Cuddles  will  run  so  hard,  he’ll  lose  weight.  Maybe  he’ll  shrink 

back to his normal size,” she said. 

Luckily, the platform was on wheels. They rolled the sculpture toward the stage 

door at the side. “I just want to distract him,” Evan said, tugging hard. “I just want to 

give us time to think, to make a plan.” 

“Wow! This is heavy!”  Andy  cried. They  rolled  it into the hall. “Heavy  enough 

for Cuddles, I guess.” 

“I hope,” Evan replied solemnly. 

  57 

By  the  time  they  rolled  the  sculpture  to  the  classroom,  the  crowd  of  frightened 

kids  and  teachers  had  grown  even  bigger.  “Make  way!  Make  way!”  they  both 

shouted, pushing their way through the crowd. 

They set the wheel down in the center of the floor and gazed over at Cuddles. The 

hamster had two teachers cornered, their backs pressed against the chalkboard. It was 

gnashing  its  huge  teeth  at  them,  slapping  its  pink paws  together  as  if  eager  to  fight 

them. 

Evan gasped when he saw Mr. Murphy’s desk, crushed flat on the floor. 

“I—I  called  the  police!”  Mr.  Murphy  cried,  his  face  beaded  with  large  drops  of 

sweat. “I begged them to come.  But when  I said it was a  giant hamster,  they didn’t 

believe me! They thought it was a practical joke!” 

“Stand  back,  everyone!”  Evan  cried  shrilly.  “Stand back—please!  Let  Cuddles 

see the wheel!” 

The  giant  hamster  turned  suddenly.  The  two  teachers  scrambled  away  from  the 

wall. Kids and teachers screamed and hurried toward the door. 

“Maybe  he’ll  run  on  the  wheel  for  a  while,”  Andy  explained  to  Mr.  Murphy. 

“Then we can figure out what to do with him!” 

“He—he  sees  it!”  Mr.  Murphy  cried  breathlessly,  all  of  his  chins  quivering  at 

once. 

Cuddles  stared  down  at  the  wheel.  His  stub  of  a  tail  thudded  loudly  against  the 

chalkboard.  He  dropped  heavily  to  all  fours  and  took  a  lumbering  step  toward  the 

wheel. 

“He sees it. He’s going to it,” Evan murmured softly. 

A hush fell over the room as everyone stared at the hamster. 

Will Cuddles climb inside? Evan wondered, holding his breath. 

Will he run on the wheel? 

Will my plan work? 

  58 

24 

The hamster sniffed the wheel. Its pink nose twitched. It uttered a low grunt. 

Then  it  raised  itself  back  onto  its  hind  legs.  The hamster’s  massive  shadow  fell 

over the room. 

With  another  disgusting  grunt,  it  picked  the  sculpture  up  in  its  front  paws  and 

raised it to its face. 

“No!” Evan cried. “Cuddles—no!” 

The metal clanged as Cuddles bit into the wheel. Evan saw deep tooth marks in 

the aluminum. Cuddles bit down again. Then, seeing that he couldn’t chew the wheel 

up, he pulled it apart, holding the sculpture in his paws and twisting it furiously with 

his teeth. 

Then he tossed the mangled wheel away. It slammed into a window, shattering it 

into a thousand pieces. 

“Back to the drawing board,” Andy muttered to Evan. 

Evan shook his head glumly. That plan was a bust, he told himself. Now what? 

He didn’t have time to think about it. 

He heard shrill cries and shrieks of terror. 

“Put him down! Cuddles—put him down!” Mr. Murphy was screaming. 

Evan turned and saw that the giant hamster had picked up a kid. 

Conan! 

Cuddles held Conan in both paws and was raising him toward his gaping mouth. 

“Drop! Drop!” Mr. Murphy was shouting. 

Conan thrashed his arms and legs. “Help me! Ohhh, hellllp me!” he shrieked. He 

started to cry. Gasping sobs. Tears rolled down his red cheeks. 

“Helllllp! Mommmmmy! Mommmmmy! Hellllp me!” 

Normally Evan would have enjoyed watching Conan cry like a baby. But this was 

too serious. Cuddles could chew Conan in half! Evan realized. 

He grabbed Andy. “Where’s the Monster Blood?” 

“Huh? In my locker. I hid it under a bunch of stuff in my locker. Why?” 

“I need it,” Evan said. “Come on. I have another idea.” 

“I hope it’s better than the last one,” Andy muttered. 

They hurried to the door, then glanced back. 

Cuddles was playing with Conan, tossing him from paw to paw, licking him with 

his huge, pink tongue. Conan was wailing his head off. 

Evan led the way to Andy’s locker. “I’m  going to eat some Monster Blood,” he 

told her, thinking out loud. “I’ll eat a lot. I’ll grow bigger than Cuddles.” 

“I  get  it,”  Andy  said,  running  beside  him.  “You’ll turn  yourself  into  a  giant. 

You’ll make yourself as big as Cuddles.” 

  59 

“No,” Evan replied. “Bigger. Much bigger. I’ll make myself so big that Cuddles 

will look hamster size. Then I’ll stuff him in the supply closet and lock the door.” 

“It’s a stupid plan,” Andy said. 

“I know,” Evan agreed. 

“But it’s worth a try,” Andy added. 

Evan swallowed hard  and didn’t reply. He was staring  across the hall at  Andy’s 

locker. 

“Oh, no!” Andy cried out when she saw what Evan was gaping at. 

The locker door bulged as if about to burst open. And green goo poured out from 

the sides and the bottom. 

“The Monster Blood—it outgrew my locker!” Andy cried. 

Evan ran up to it and grabbed the door handle. He started to tug. “Is it locked?” 

“No,” Andy replied, hanging back. 

Evan tugged. He tugged harder. With a loud groan, he tugged with both hands. “It 

won’t open!” he cried. 

“Let me try it,” Andy said. 

But  before  she  could  step  forward,  the  locker  door burst  open  with  a  loud 

whoooosh. 

Sticky, green gunk splashed over Evan. 

He didn’t have a chance to cry out. 

It poured over him like a tall, cresting ocean wave. 

An ocean wave of Monster Blood. 

It’s burying me! Evan realized. 

The  huge,  sticky  glob  splashed  out  of  the  locker,  plopped  over  him,  smothering 

him, choking him. 

It’s sucking me in! I can’t move! 

I can’t move! 

  60 

25 

Evan  shut  his  eyes  as  the  heavy,  green  gunk  rolled over  his  head.  He  shot  his  arms 

out, trying to push it away. 

As  it  swept  over  him,  he  fell  to  his  knees.  Kicking  and  thrashing,  it  forced  him 

down to the floor. 

I’m stuck inside, he thought. Stuck inside… 

He felt hands grab his ankles. 

The hands tugged hard. 

He began to slide. Over the floor. Over the thick layer of Monster Blood. 

“I’ve got you!” he heard Andy cry. “I’ve got you out!” 

He opened his eyes. He saw her pulling him, tugging him out of the thick green 

gunk by the ankles. 

It clung to his clothes and his skin. But he was out. 

“Thanks,” he murmured weakly. He climbed shakily to his feet. 

He could hear Conan screaming and crying back in the classroom. There was still 

time to save him, Evan realized. 

He pulled a hunk of Monster Blood off the quivering green mound—and jammed 

it into his mouth. 

“I’m going to be sick,” Andy groaned, holding her stomach. 

Evan swallowed and reached for another mouthful. “It doesn’t taste bad,” he told 

her. “A little lemony.” 

“Don’t  eat  too  much!”  she  cried,  half-covering  her eyes  as  she  watched  him 

swallow another mouthful. 

“I  have  to  grow  big  enough  so  that  Cuddles  is  hamster  size  compared  to  me,” 

Evan said. He grabbed another hunk. 

He could already feel himself start to grow. His head was already over the tops of 

the lockers. 

Back in the classroom, Conan let out another terrified wail. 

“Let’s  go!”  Evan  boomed.  His  voice  thundered  deeply  in  his  new,  larger  body. 

He could feel himself growing taller. Taller. 

He had to lower his head to get through the classroom door. 

Kids and teachers moved out of his way, crying out their surprise and alarm. 

He  crossed  the  room,  passed  Mr.  Murphy,  and  stepped  up  to  the  giant  hamster. 

“I’m as big as Cuddles!” Evan called down to Andy. 

He  reached  out  and  lifted  Conan  from  Cuddles’  paws.  Cuddles  reached  out  to 

take Conan back. But Evan lowered him gently to the floor. 

“Hellllp me! Helllp me!” Conan ran bawling from the room. 

Evan turned to face the hamster. They stared at each other eye to eye. 

  61 

Cuddles’  huge  pink  nose  twitched.  He  sniffed  Evan, inhaling  so  hard  that  Evan 

was nearly sucked forward. 

Evan took a step back. 

Keep growing! he urged himself. I’ve got to keep growing! 

Cuddles  eyed  him  warily,  still  sniffing.  His  watery  black  eyes  stared  hard  as  if 

trying to figure out if Evan was friend or foe. 

“Don’t you remember me, Cuddles?” Evan said softly. “Remember, I’m the one 

who fed you after school every day?” 

Keep growing! he silently urged himself. 

Why aren’t I growing any taller? 

Down below, he could see Andy, Mr. Murphy, and the others huddled against the 

far wall, staring up at the two giants in hushed terror. 

Keep growing! Keep growing! 

There  was  no  way  he  could  pick  Cuddles  up  now,  Evan  realized.  They  were 

exactly the same height. And Cuddles outweighed him by at least a ton! 

Keep growing! 

“What’s wrong, Andy?” Evan called down to her in a trembling voice. “I ate tons 

of the stuff. Why did I stop growing?” 

“I  don’t  know!”  she  called  up  to  him.  Her  voice  sounded  as  tiny  as  a  mouse’s 

squeak. 

He saw that she had the blue can in her hand. She was turning it over, reading the 

label. “I don’t know, Evan!” she shouted. “I don’t know why you’re not growing!” 

Then, as Evan turned back to face Cuddles, the hamster reached out and grabbed 

his waist with both front paws. 

“Ow!” Evan cried as the hamster tried to lift him off the floor. 

Gazing up, he saw the gaping hamster mouth open, the sharp white teeth emerge. 

Evan  squirmed  desperately,  pulling  himself  loose.  Then  he  wrapped  both  arms 

around the hamster’s middle. 

They  started  to  wrestle.  Evan  fought  hard,  but  the hamster  overpowered  him. 

Cuddles rolled Evan onto his back on the floor. 

Evan spun quickly away, climbed to his feet, and pulled the hamster down. 

The  two  giants  wrestled  over  the  floor,  surrounded by  the  shrill  screams  of 

teachers and kids. 

Grow bigger! Grow bigger—now! Evan pleaded. 

But it was too late, he saw. 

The hamster lowered its hot, furry body over him. Evan could feel the creature’s 

booming heartbeat as it pressed him to the floor. 

Then its teeth rose up over Evan’s head. 

The hamster’s mouth opened wide. 

The teeth swung down. 

A wave of hot, sour hamster breath blew down over Evan. 

He shut his eyes. 

“Sorry,” he murmured to Andy. 

He held his breath and waited for the teeth to clamp down. 

  62 

26 

Evan heard a pop, like the sound of a cork flying off a bottle. 

Still sprawled on his back on the floor, Evan opened his eyes. 

“Huh?” Cuddles had disappeared. Vanished. 

Evan  stared  up  at  the  startled  faces  of  kids  and  teachers  against  the  wall.  “Wh-where’s Cuddles?” he stammered. 

Andy stood frozen like a statue, her mouth open. 

Evan slowly realized that she was nearly as big as he was. In fact, everyone was 

about his size. 

He pulled himself up to  a sitting position. “Hey—I’m back to my normal size!” 

he  cried.  He  shook  his  head  hard  as  if  trying  to  shake  away  his  close  call  with  the 

giant hamster. 

“There’s Cuddles!” Andy cried, pointing. 

Evan  turned  to  see  Cuddles  huddled  against  the  wall.  “He’s  a  little  hamster 

again!” Evan exclaimed happily. He took three quick steps, bent down, and grabbed 

Cuddles between his hands. “Gotcha!” 

Holding  the  hamster  in  front  of  him,  he  turned  back  to  Andy  and  the  others. 

“What happened? Why did we shrink back?” 

Andy  was  studying  the  blue  Monster  Blood  can.  Suddenly  she  tossed  back  her 

dark hair, her brown eyes lit up, and she started to laugh. “It’s the expiration date!” 

she  cried  happily.  “The  expiration  date  on  the  can—it’s today!  The  Monster  Blood 

stops working today! The magic has worn out!” 

Evan let out a whoop of joy. 

Mr. Murphy, a wide grin on his round face, hurried over and put his arm around 

Evan’s shoulders. “Fine job, Evan! Fine job!” he exclaimed. “You saved the school. 

I’m proud of you!” 

“Thanks, Mr. Murphy,” Evan replied awkwardly. 

“You’ll never make a basketball player now that you’re short again,” Mr. Murphy 

said, smiling. “But that was quite a good match with Cuddles. Have you ever thought 

of trying out for the wrestling team?” 

Andy came to Evan’s house for dinner that night. He greeted her at the door, eager to 

tell  her  how  all  the  kids  had  apologized  for  not  believing  him  about  the  Monster 

Blood. 

But  before  he  could  say  anything,  she  held  up  a  large  brown  envelope  and 

grinned at him. 

“What’s that?” he asked, following her into the living room. 

  63 

“It’s  a  present  my  parents  sent  me  from  Europe,”  she  replied,  her  grin  growing 

wider. “You won’t believe what it is.” 

She started to pull open the envelope. But the front doorbell rang. 

Evan hurried to see who it was. 

“Mr. Murphy!” he cried in surprise. 

“Hi, Evan,” the teacher said, his round body nearly filling the entire front stoop. 

“Hope I’m not interrupting your dinner.” 

“No,” Evan replied. “Want to come in?” 

“No  thanks,”  Mr.  Murphy  replied.  His  expression  turned  solemn.  “I  came  by 

because I thought you should have some sort of reward, Evan. You were a real hero 

at school today.” 

“Aw, not really,” Evan said awkwardly. He could feel his face  growing  hot and 

knew he was blushing. 

What  kind  of  reward?  Evan  wondered,  staring  back  at  the  teacher.  A  cash 

reward? 

Mr.  Murphy  raised  the  hamster  cage  into  Evan’s  view.  “I’ve  decided  to  reward 

you with Cuddles,” the teacher said. “I know how fond of him you are.” 

“No, please!” Evan started to plead. 

“It’s a small token,” Mr. Murphy said. “To show how grateful I am. How grateful 

we all are.” 

“Please—no—!” 

But  before  Evan  realized  it,  the  hamster  cage  was  in  his  hand,  and  Mr.  Murphy 

was waddling back down the driveway to his car. 

“He  gave  you  Cuddles?”  Andy  asked  as  Evan  returned to  the  living  room 

carrying the cage. He set it down on the coffee table. 

“It’s my reward,” Evan told her, rolling his eyes. “Do you believe it?” 

“Well, you won’t believe this!” Andy declared. “Look what my parents found in 

Europe!” 

She  reached  into  the  envelope  and  pulled  out  a  blue  plastic  can.  “It’s  Monster 

Blood!” 

“Oh, no!” Evan wailed. 

“They wrote that they remembered how much fun I had with the old can,” Andy 

said,  holding  up  the  blue  container.  “So  when  they saw  this  can  in  a  toy  store  in 

Germany, they decided to send me a new one.” 

Evan’s  eyes  went  wide  with  fear.  “You—you’re  not  going  to  open  it?”  he 

demanded warily. 

“Already  did,”  Andy  replied.  “Just  to  take  a  look. But  I’m  not  going  to  use  it. 

Really. I promise.” 

Evan started to say something—but he was interrupted by his mother’s call from 

the kitchen. “Dinnertime, you two! Wash your hands and come to the table!” 

Andy  set  the  can  of  Monster  Blood  down  on  the  desk in  the  corner.  They 

obediently hurried to wash their hands. 

They  had  a  lively  dinner.  There  was lots to  talk  about.  They  laughed  and  joked 

about all that had happened at school. It was easy to laugh about it now that it was all 

over. 

  64 

After dinner, Evan and Andy returned to the living room. 

Andy  was  the  first  to  see  that  the  door  to  the  hamster  cage  was  wide  open.  The 

cage was empty. 

Evan was the one who spotted Cuddles on the desk. 

“Cuddles—what are you eating?” he cried. “What are you eating?” 

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