Monster vs. Boy, page 12
“She’d like that.” Atlas sounded relieved.
When Jayla had disappeared into the bedroom, Dawz muttered, “I thought she’d never leave.”
“I don’t mind her,” Atlas said. “What do you think of peppermint leaves and hot peppers on the pizza?”
Dawz didn’t want to admit it was a good idea. He didn’t want Jayla to help them create a new recipe. “Whatever. Let’s make the dough.”
“Sure, but”—he paused—“you can read the instructions. I’ll do the rest. Okay?”
Even Atlas made him feel monstrous. He probably didn’t even want to do their special handshake because that would mean touching Dawz.
“If you want.” Dawz flipped open Atlas’s recipe book. It was a thick hardcover with hundreds of recipes—a birthday gift from Dawz that he’d carefully picked out with Pop. They’d spent hours browsing online until they’d found the right one for Atlas—for a friend who no longer wanted to bake with him. Dawz pushed his hurt feelings away and turned to the section on pizza crust.
As he read out the instructions, Atlas measured the yeast, spelt flour, and warm water. Slowly, Dawz shared everything he’d learned from Luiza and Ronny, answering all of Atlas’s questions. “I’m the only one who can see the monster, or tell where it is, so I need to do something—maybe catch it. But I don’t want to touch it in case I make it grow again.”
Atlas nodded like it made sense. “I’ll help.” He plunged his fingers into the sticky dough and began to knead.
“Thanks.” Even though Atlas wouldn’t let him bake, it was good to be with his friend.
The dough stretched and mixed under Atlas’s hands. As Atlas chopped the peppermint leaves and hot peppers, the kitchen began to smell great, and Dawz could almost forget about the monster and what he needed to do.
Almost.
“How will you catch it without touching it?” Atlas said.
“Ronny says I need bait. Something the monster wants. Then I’ll set up a trap around the bait.”
“What does it want?”
“I’m not sure yet….” Dawz said, although he had an idea. An idea he didn’t want to admit.
Sparkle began to meow and pace by the screen door, just as the niggling prickle at the edge of Dawz’s left eye made him suddenly alert. Oh no! He glanced around. Where is it?
“What kind of sauce would be best?” Atlas held up two plump tomatoes. “The usual, or—”
“It’s here,” Dawz hissed. “The monster.”
Atlas dropped the tomatoes. “Where?”
“Come here, kitty. Come here.” Jayla had emerged from the bedroom and was trying to pet Sparkle, who was clawing at the screen door now. “Atlas,” Jayla called. “I think she wants out. Can I let her out?”
“Only on a leash,” Thea said from her room. “It’s on a hook by the door. I don’t want her wandering loose. Who knows what she might catch?”
Dawz forgot how to breathe. He wasn’t ready. He had no net or trap or cage. But he suspected he already had the bait.
Him.
That’s why the monster was always showing up wherever he went.
He grabbed Atlas’s baking book from the counter and held it like a weapon. Atlas picked up the rolling pin. They stood with their backs to the counter. Maybe Dawz would eventually need to battle this monster alone, like in Luiza’s story, but for now he was glad to have Atlas with him.
“Tell me where to aim.” Atlas waved the rolling pin like a sword.
“I can’t see it yet!” Dawz said, but he knew he would soon. The prickle was growing stronger.
His left eye began to twitch. Then Jayla was running toward them.
“Yes, come here,” he yelled. “Get behind us.”
“I need this!” Jayla shrieked. She grabbed the bag of spelt flour and raced toward the screen door.
“Don’t!” Dawz yelled. This was not the time to bake.
“I think I found the monster!”
“Where?” Fear froze Dawz in place, but he couldn’t let the monster get Jayla. He raced after her. Atlas was right behind him.
“Outside!”
“What is going on out there?” Thea called.
Dawz didn’t want Jayla to be able to see the monster. He didn’t want her to be like him.
“Call the police!” Atlas yelled to Thea.
“Call Ronny!” Jayla and Dawz said at once.
Dawz skidded to a stop behind Jayla. Through the screen door, he could see the monster, hunched on the landing at the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing and panting heavily. A thin trail of smoke wafted from its nostrils. It was massive now—even bigger than he was.
How had it grown more? Could nothing stop it?
“How can you see it?” he asked.
“I spotted the clues. Look!” She pointed. “She has muddy hooves!”
Not a she, Dawz thought, but he didn’t argue this time. After all, he didn’t really know, did he?
“And she’s holding a book.” Jayla shoved the cat away from the door with her socked foot. “Move, Sparkle!”
“Don’t open the door!” Dawz yelled as Jayla reached for the handle.
Jayla yanked the door open and threw out the bag of flour.
Dawz gasped. The door swung shut. The flour hit the monster on the snout. It spilled open and covered most of it from horn to hoof, dusting it like a first snow. As the rest of the flour coated the landing and the railing, Dawz couldn’t help but be impressed by Jayla’s quick thinking. Everyone could see the shape of the monster now.
“What are you kids up to?” Thea squeezed into the hallway behind Atlas.
“I see it!” Atlas shoved next to Dawz as they all peered through the screen door. “The flour—”
“And mud on her hooves!” Jayla’s face was lit up like it was her birthday.
“Monster?!” Thea towered over them. “A real monster?! But…how? But…you were right? Oh my! Back up, kids! Now!”
“We told you!” Atlas shot her a satisfied look.
“You did! But I never…” Thea shook her head, her mouth flapping. “I should have listened…”
Dawz ignored her. The monster shook the bag off its snout and wiped its eyes. It didn’t stand up and roar. It didn’t swipe through the screen with its toxic claws, which had grown into small daggers that scared Dawz more than anything else. Instead, it wailed.
“It looks hurt.” Atlas lowered his rolling pin.
“It looks deadly.” Dawz pushed past Jayla, even though every muscle in his body begged him not to. He was worried that he might make the monster grow, but he couldn’t let anyone else do what he needed to do.
“Pass the leash,” he told Atlas as he opened the door. “We need to trap it. Can you make a slipknot?” They’d learned about knots in one of their cryptozoology books.
“Slipknots are cruel!” Jayla said. “Ronny told me.”
“Don’t you dare go out there, Dawson Trumble!” Thea reached for him.
Atlas stepped in front of her. “Just don’t let it touch you,” he warned Dawz.
“Never again.” Dawz raised the recipe book high.
Chapter 25
Mim lay panting in the blinding sunlight at the top of the stairs. Dust coated her fur and scales. It blocked her nostrils and gummed her eyes. But she could still see Dawz the Horrible with a book raised over his head like he was going to hit her. Still see the others behind him, staring in a new way that made her feel exposed.
Then Dawz the Horrible swung the book toward her in a fierce way. Mim cowered against the metal railing, gripping her own book to protect it. But before his book could land, the girl grabbed his arm.
“Don’t hit her!” she yelled. “Read to her!”
“That’s stupid.” Dawz the Horrible yanked his arm free.
Behind them, the larger boy was blocking the woman with the moldy smell—the one Mim had scratched—which was fine with her. They should all stay back. Far back.
“Reading will work on her,” insisted the girl. “Why else would she be carrying a book?”
“How should I know?” Dawz the Horrible glanced from his book to Mim’s.
She held her book tighter. What did read mean? Would it hurt?
His book looked solid. It would not be her friend.
Mim warned him off with a snarl that spewed smoke from deep inside her. She felt the urge to tear at him with her nail-claws, but the longer she spent near him, the more her right heart strengthened and her left one calmed.
As if it had found its nest.
* * *
—
Then Mim sneezed. Dust, smoke, and snot exploded out, and her eyes shut from the force of it, just for an instant, but it felt like forever. When she opened them, terrified the boy had advanced on her, she discovered he’d lowered his book. He wasn’t going to hit her? He had to be planning something worse.
She trembled, hating that she could smell his stink again now that her nostrils were clear.
He opened the book and flipped through it like he didn’t even care if the pages ripped. “What should I read?”
“Anything,” the larger boy said.
“Just back away now, Dawz!” called the woman. “Please.”
Yes. Back away, thought Mim. Do not read at me. My everything already hurts.
She wished she didn’t need Dawz the Horrible. She wished she could get her strength in a new way. But she was stuck with him. Stuck.
Dawz the Horrible stared at a page in the book. “Baking with yeast isn’t hard.” He snarled the words as if each one was filled with venom and aimed at her.
Mim held on to the railing. Reading. This is reading?
“You can make your own simple pizza crust at home in minutes.”
Reading is how you make words come out of a book?
“You don’t need fancy ingredients.” Dawz the Horrible’s voice got louder and louder, harder and harder, meaner and meaner. “Just follow these easy steps.”
How wonderful to read! How dreadful to read with Dawz the Horrible.
Only he could make reading feel like all her scales were peeling off.
* * *
—
Mim sneezed more and more, and she smelled more too. Meanwhile, Dawz the Horrible read about this thing called pizza, yelling every word: Flour. Kneading. Rolling. Cheese. Sauce.
Mim didn’t like his voice. She didn’t like the other humans watching her. Still, her everything felt stronger with each passing moment. She panted less. And she wondered what pizza was.
From what she could tell, it was desirable. It could be eaten. And reading about it made her feel better. Now Mim wanted pizza. But she didn’t dare ask for it. She didn’t want to ask this boy for anything. Ever. It was bad enough that she got her strength from him. Sure, she may not have to eat him, but she didn’t want to need him either.
“See?” the girl said. “Everyone likes to be read to, especially a monster who carries a book.”
The larger boy hushed her. Dawz the Horrible read more. “Bake until the crust is lightly browned, and the cheese is golden and bubbling.”
“Raar?” The sound came from inside the building, behind the nasty humans.
Mim sat up. Could it be?
She sniffed the air. Yes! Raar-Sparkle wove through the cluster of human legs toward her.
“No, Sparkle!” bellowed the woman.
Raar-Sparkle kept coming.
“Grab her!” the woman cried out.
Mim opened her arms and readied her lap.
If she couldn’t have pizza, she could at least have her friend back.
Chapter 26
Dawz reached for Sparkle. Atlas did too. But Sparkle dodged between them both.
As Dawz stared in horror, she left paw prints in the flour that sprinkled the landing. She stepped between the outstretched arms of the monster, tail high. She sat in its lap, right next to the cryptozoology book it had stolen from Dawz’s bedroom. A book now covered in flour and swollen, like it had been dropped in the marsh and left to rot. If that’s how the monster treated a book, what would it do to poor Sparkle?
Dawz couldn’t bear to watch. He couldn’t look away.
* * *
—
The monster raised its clawed hands. It lowered them toward Sparkle. Dawz should rescue her. But how?
Then Sparkle cuddled the monster. The monster wrapped its arms around Sparkle. They rocked back and forth.
As if they were friends.
Friends?
* * *
—
Dawz clenched Atlas’s recipe book and gaped at the monster and the cat. Sparkle licked the monster’s arm. She cleared a patch of flour to reveal an ugly purple scale. She purred loud enough for him to hear.
The monster stroked Sparkle’s back.
It petted.
And petted.
“Why is it petting Sparkle?” Dawz asked.
“Maybe they’re…friends?” Atlas said.
Jayla laughed and clapped her hands with a smack that made the monster snarl.
Meanwhile, Sparkle licked more and more, grooming the monster, cleaning off the flour.
“They can’t be friends.” Dawz slammed the recipe book shut.
The monster snarled louder, puffing out terrible smoke again.
* * *
—
Dawz glared at the monster, and it glared back with its creepy glowing eyes. He didn’t move forward. It didn’t back off. Sparkle licked the monster’s shoulder.
Should he tackle it? Pull Sparkle to safety? But what would happen when he touched it?
A siren pierced the air. Finally. It startled the monster and Sparkle too. Two police cars appeared at either end of the alley, flashing red-and-blue lights, racing toward the stairs.
“They’re here!” Dawz shouted, suddenly grateful for Officer Rashmi. Maybe he could forgive her secret conversations with Pop one day. At least she understood the danger.
Sparkle leaped out of the monster’s lap.
“Come here, Sparkle,” Thea cooed.
Sparkle ran past Dawz, between the others, and into Atlas’s apartment. Dawz didn’t turn around to see where she went. She was inside, and that was all that mattered.
The monster forced itself to its hooves. It held the railing for balance.
Dawz stepped back.
“Get in!” Atlas pulled him inside and shut the screen door and the wooden one too. “The police will take care of things.”
Dawz hoped so. But the monster was tricky. He had to be sure. He peered out the high rectangular window in the door and held his breath.
Chapter 27
The wailing sound penetrated Mim’s head. Flashing lights hurt her eyes. As the door shut Dawz the Horrible and the others inside, Mim realized the reading had been a trick. A way to distract her so the wailing could sneak up.
Nasty humans! She gripped the railing for support and snorted smoke at the sound.
It kept coming, closer than ever.
* * *
—
Flee. She needed to flee. But she didn’t know where to go. And she didn’t have the strength to get far. At the bottom of the stairs, humans jumped from their wailing, flashing cars.
She snarled. Their footsteps rang on the steps and sent vibrations up to the landing, making her head swim. More wailing sounded in the distance. Mim felt like the whole town was rising against her.
A pipe on the brick wall reached up to the roof. Mim climbed onto the railing, which wobbled. She gripped her book in her teeth, then jumped for the pipe, barely grasping it, and began to shinny up. Her arms and legs nearly gave out. The pipe threatened to bend under her weight. But she scurried higher and higher, then dove for the roof as the pipe crumpled and swayed loose.
Mim collapsed on the flat gravel roof with her tail between her legs. Beneath her, the humans on the stairs yelled, but she ignored them.
She rolled onto her back in the gravel, rubbing off the dust, although it still clung to patches of her fur and chafed between her scales.
Then she heard Dawz the Horrible’s voice from the landing: “It went up! On the roof! I can hear it!”
Meddling boy! Mim stood and hobbled away as fast as she could.
* * *
—
She reached the end of the roof, her book still clenched between her teeth. Then she climbed over the edge to the next roof. And the next. Ahead of her, the last roof ended at a corner of two streets with green trees and grass beyond. In the not-wide street below, she caught Dawz the Horrible’s scent as he followed her. She needed him nearby to get all her strength back, but the wailing, flashing cars were following too. Why did he have to bring them?
Mim hurried from roof to roof. Dawz the Horrible ran to keep pace with her, and the wailing kept trailing.
She made it to the green. Down below, so did he.
After her garden nest, she didn’t trust flowers, but she hoped a tree would be safe. She just wanted a hidden place—close to him but not too close. Was that so impossible?
Mim dropped onto the nearest tree branch. It dipped dangerously under her weight. She shimmied along it, over the street and into the green. Then she swung to the next tree and the next, until she reached one with thick needles. She sank among the densest branches near the top of the tree, far above the humans’ reach.
Was she hidden? She couldn’t see Dawz the Horrible anywhere.
Was she still close enough to get strong? Yes, she could smell him nearby.
Mim clutched her book in one hand and let out a long breath. Around her hung sweet-smelling cones. She clung to the tree’s trunk, swaying with it.
