My Big Fat Zombie Goldfish (6 page)

Mark slammed the door. We looked up to see the bowl balanced above our heads rocking back and forth. It was going to fall!

I felt Pradeep trying to reach up to grab the knot in the belt around us, but his wrists were tied too tight. The bowl wobbled more with every move we made. Green slimy water dripped on the back of my neck. Pradeep stretched his fingers as far as he could but it wasn't enough. I squashed closer to him to try to give the belt some slack so he could reach.

“Mmearly mmot mmit!” he said as his fingers pulled on the knot behind his back. “Mmyes!” He loosened the knot and I felt the belt drop away.

“Roll!” I shouted as we both rolled in opposite directions just as the goldfish bowl slammed on to the carpet between us, spilling toxic water across the floor.

I ran over to Pradeep and pulled the tape off his mouth, leaving sticky pink stripes across his face.

“Thanks, Pradeep. How did you do that?” I asked as I pulled the last loop of belt off my wrists.

“We did knots at Cubs last week. That was a quarterman's noose—not too tricky to undo if you know how,” he answered.

Then we went to help Sami out of the trash can. She hugged Pradeep around the neck as I eased Chewbacca off her bottom.

“Now to get Frankie,” I said.

That's when we heard it—a sound that I never found terrifying until that day. We heard a fatal flush.

 

 

We all ran to the bathroom door to listen.

“You see, Fish,” we heard Mark say, “that's where you're going unless you help me.”

Then we heard water splashing.

“That must be Frankie sploshing around in his bag,” I said. “He hasn't flushed him yet.”

“Swishy little fishy,” Sami chanted. She was still all zombie-fish eyes.

“We have to get Mark out of there,” Pradeep whispered.

“His phone,” I said. “He'll answer his phone. You take Sami back home and call him from your house. Tell him you're gonna tell your mom and he'll come over to try and stop you.”

“What will you do?” Pradeep asked.

“I'll run in and grab the bag with Frankie in it while Mark's gone.”

Pradeep took Sami downstairs. I heard the dog flap slap shut and waited behind the bedroom door so Mark wouldn't see me when he came out. It seemed like hours of millipedes doing laps in my stomach before I heard Mark's phone ring.

“Mwahahaha—mwahahaha.” He had changed his ringtone to his evil laugh! That was hardcore
EVIL SCIENTIST
stuff.

Then I heard him speak. “Yeah? Moron? No, you talk, you die.” He stormed out of the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. I stayed where I was. I heard him go into his bedroom and kick the goldfish bowl on the floor. “Stupid morons' stupid trap,” he grunted. He trudged down the stairs and I heard the front door slam shut behind him.

Yes! It was working.

Rescue Frankie Plan—Part One: Mark on his way to Pradeep's to stop him from telling his mom Mark's
EVIL SCIENTIST
plans. Check!

I just had to hope that Mark wouldn't actually kill Pradeep if his mom was there. I crossed my fingers and even my toes inside my sneakers.

Rescue Frankie Plan—Part Two: Actually rescue the fish. Nearly check.

I had my hand on the doorknob of the bathroom door when I heard that horrible sound again.

I heard the toilet flush.…

I ran into the bathroom and saw the water spiraling down the toilet bowl.

“Frankie, no!” I shouted, but he was already gone.

 

 

Then I heard a
splash
outside. I looked up and saw the open bathroom window. I climbed up on the toilet and looked out. There was Frankie, rolling his plastic bag out of the puddle on the garage roof. Then he rolled himself along the gutter, dropped down onto the rain barrel and, with a final dismount,
flumped
onto the grass.

I punched the air. He was safe. But I was dead meat when Mark found out the fish was gone.

Maybe I could convince Mark that I'd flushed Frankie? No, he'd never buy it. And he'd kill me anyway, just because he could. I'd be better off escaping with Frankie.

I was just about to climb out the window and follow him when I heard the next noise. It sounded like someone falling down the back steps, bouncing off the little trampoline, and crashing into a sandbox. That couldn't be Frankie making that noise. But if it wasn't Frankie, then who was it?

I ran downstairs and out the door. Mark was lying facedown in the sandbox, groaning. The little trampoline had been put at the bottom of the steps, which were smeared with white chocolate.

My first thought was: I'm really good at guessing stuff just from sounds.

My second thought was: White chocolate? It's gotta be Sami.

“Again! Again!”

I heard the giggling voice from behind me.

Sami was carrying a bowl of chocolate and licking her fingers. She started bouncing on the trampoline. “You were funny,” she said to Mark. “Again! Please? Again!”

Mark just groaned.

Pradeep came running across the garden toward us. He stopped when he saw Sami. “Sami, you're supposed to be inside with Mom.” Then he looked at the steps and back at her hands. “Sami, did you…?”

“Frankie must have hypnotized her to do it,” I said.

Sami smiled. Her hands were still covered in chocolate but her expression was normal. She didn't look hypnotized anymore.

I waved my hand in front of her face to check.

“Hi, Tom,” she said, and waved back at me.

She definitely didn't have the goldfish stare anymore. But she also didn't have the goldfish.

“Where's fishy?” I asked her in an “I'm trying not to panic but really starting to panic” kind of way.

“Swishy little fishy,” she said, still bouncing. “Fishy rolled away.”

We looked around for Frankie. Under the trampoline, around the bike shed, under the shrubs. No good.

Mark's groans started to become words. Things like “Stupid morons,” and, “They'll be sorry,” and, “I can smell chocolate.” He was starting to move too.

Then Sami squealed again, “Swishy little fishy!” and pointed to the top of the jungle-gym slide.

There was Frankie. He was rolling his plastic bag onto Mark's skateboard. The skateboard was pointed down the slide, straight at the sandbox and straight at Mark's head.