Sink or Swim (16 page)

“Well, whatever you did, I'm glad you did it,” I say.

“Me too, Mr. Arkady,” Stanley adds.

“Good night, Mr. Arkady!” my mom calls as she and the rest of my family climb into the truck.

Mr. Arkady smiles a contented smile and glides away.

Just as she's about to pull away, Mr. Hollabird pokes his head in the window. “I owe you an apology, Mrs. Drinkwater.”

“Yes, you do,” my mom replies simply.

“I've been foolish and stubborn and wrong.”

Mom just sighs and shakes her head.

“I don't blame you for being upset, Mrs. Drinkwater. If someone had accused my son, Grady, of crimes he didn't commit, I'd be upset, too.”

“I appreciate your apology, Mr. Hollabird. But I really have to go now.” My mom starts the engine. “It's been a long day.” The old truck lurches forward.

I stick my long neck through the back window and whisper into her ear. “Don't be so stubborn, Mom. He's practically groveling. If I can forgive him, why can't you?”

Mr. Hollabird jogs alongside us. “I hope you'll consider bringing your six favorite healthy desserts to our charity bake-off next week, Mrs. Drinkwater. I'd be honored if you would. I've heard wonderful things about your gluten-free, reduced-calorie, soy protein brownies.”

“He's really sorry, Mom,” I say softly. “Please say yes. Don't be such a Grinch.”

“I'll have to think about it,” she says.

“Please do,” Mr. Hollabird says gratefully. “Beautiful Bites could really use a person like you on the team!” He keeps on jogging.

My mom keeps driving. And then she looks out the window at Mr. Hollabird, beaming. “What day is the bake-off?”

HOORAY! She just gave in. “Good work, Mom.”

“Wednesday!” Mr. Hollabird stands by the side of the road, holding his side with one hand, and waving with the other as we roar off. Soon he is just a speck in the distance. I lean back and smile. What started out to be a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day in November is turning out to be a pretty okay day after all.

END OF THE RAINBOW

“STANLEY, THERE'S ONE
thing I'm still wondering,” I say. “
Why
wouldn't you tell Principal Muchnick I was innocent last night?”

“I was afraid to let him see me. You have to realize that until tonight I've never let
any human
see me. Except my mom and dad. I couldn't take the rejection.
You're
the brave mutant dinosaur in the family, Charlie. Not me.”

“No, Stanley, you both are,” Aunt Harriet says. “And now I'm losing you again. I can't bear it.” She blows her nose so loudly that Balthazar whines and covers his ears.

“There, there, Harriet.” Uncle Marvin takes her in his arms.

My family is gathered at the edge of Crater Lake, saying our good-byes to Stanley. It's nearly midnight. There isn't a cloud in the sky. The screech owls are screeching. The pine trees sway gently in the wind. It's just like a scene from
Night of the Living Dead
, only without the living dead.

“You're not losing me, Mom,” Stanley explains. “I just have to go back down and straighten out a couple of things, and . . . no.” Stanley stops himself. “It's going to be harder than that. I'm going to have to apologize. And return the money that I borrowed and then . . . no.” He stops himself and starts again. “I
stole
that money. And it's going to take me a while to pay it back. But I will. Just like I'll get used to telling the truth. And after I do that, I'll be back, guys. I promise.” He takes a couple of steps into the lake.

“Is that why you
really
left Crater Lake and came to Decatur, Stanley?” I ask. “Because you owed other creatures money? You weren't on a mission to save our relatives from extinction?”

“Afraid not, cuz.” Stanley hangs his head. “There isn't any disease, and there isn't any antidote either. And I never taught anyone to swim, and Aunt Harriet doesn't have a heart problem. Do you hate me?”

I have to think about that for a moment. Am I glad Stanley lied to me and got me in trouble and made my life miserable? Of course not. Do I understand why he did it? I think so.

“No,” I say. “I don't hate you, Stanley.”

“I'm glad.”

Stanley takes a few more steps into the lake until the water is just about up to his neck. You can see his reflection in the moonlit surface like in
Creature from the Black Lagoon
when the creature abducts Dr. Reed's girlfriend, Kay Lawrence, and takes her to his lair.

“We'll miss you, Stanley,” Dave says.

“Bye, Stanley.” I hold up my claw. “I'm glad I got to know you.”

“Me too, cuz.” Stanley takes one last step and sinks slowly out of sight.

We all watch quietly until the last ripple stops rippling. And then we start the long walk home.

“What was it like when Stanley transformed, Uncle Marvin?” I break the silence. “Were you scared?”

“Pretty much. How about you, Harriet?”

“I was . . . concerned . . . for Stanley. He was always such a sensitive child. Let's just say it was a lot to deal with and leave it at that.” Aunt Harriet glances nervously at my mom, who returns the look and glances at my dad. And then ominous silence.

Something's up. I have stumbled onto an undercurrent of something. But I'm not sure what.

“Didn't Stanley run away?” Dave asks innocently. “I was only six or seven at the time, but I thought I remembered something about him running away.”

Everybody turns to my brother and glares. And still nobody speaks.

“Come on,” I say. “Somebody knows something here and they're not saying. If Stanley could learn to tell the truth . . . couldn't we?”

My mom speaks reluctantly. “When Stanley mutated . . . he hid in the basement and refused to go to school. He was ashamed. He wouldn't let anyone outside the family see him. He finally agreed to speak with his science teacher, but even Mr. Arkady couldn't think of anything to do.”

Aunt Harriet picks up the story. “So we pledged Mr. Arkady to secrecy and told everybody that Stanley had gone to live with his uncle in Ohio. We never told anyone else that he transformed into a creature.”

“He didn't really have an uncle in Ohio,” Uncle Marvin continues. “Instead Stanley ran away to the bottom of Crater Lake because he couldn't cope with being different.”

So
that's
the big secret that Mr. Arkady has been hiding all these years. And that's how come he knew so much about my cousin. The pieces of the puzzle are all fitting neatly into place.

“You all knew my cousin turned into a mutant dinosaur all this time, and you never told me about it? When I transformed, it would have been nice to know I wasn't the only one.”

“We didn't want you getting ideas, Charlie,” my dad replies. “What if you decided to run away, too? What would we have done then?”

“It's really hard to keep secrets,” I say. “There are so many things you have to remember. Do you think maybe we could all start telling the truth around here, guys?”

“Umm.” Mom goes first. “Some of my vegan cookies have a little butter in them.”

Aunt Harriet picks up the ball. “I keep several birthday cakes at home in the freezer and eat them from time to time, and I don't even defrost them.”

“I hate the hat you gave me for my birthday, Doris. I gave it to the Salvation Army. I didn't really leave it at the office,” my dad confesses.

“Stanley gave me swimming lessons in Crater Lake last night after everybody was asleep,” I say quickly and quietly.

“Charlie Drinkwater! I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that one.” My mom holds her hands over her ears.

“I don't have any secrets,” Dave admits. “That's my secret.”

The dirt path turns into sidewalk. The pine trees thin out to the occasional stubby cedar. Aunt Harriet and Uncle Marvin turn left at Maple. My parents, Dave, Balthazar, and I head straight for Lonesome Lane.

So that's my story. I didn't exactly conquer my greatest fear. But I dealt with it. With the help of a creepy palmetto bug, I turned it into a friend instead of an enemy. Thank you, Doc Craverly. Like my dad says, even a stopped clock is right twice a day. This week, swimming. Maybe next week . . . tapioca pudding! Who knows?

“Hey, look at that!” As we approach the house, Dave points above our heads. A tiny silver dot streaks across the sky.

“What do you think that is, Dave?” Dad asks.

“Probably a meteor from outer space hurtling toward earth.”

“Stop it, Dave,” Mom says. “You're scaring your little brother.”

“That's what big brothers are for.” He smiles.

I should never have told him I was afraid of meteors. He's always doing this.

“Last one in is a rotten pumpkin!” Dad opens the front door. Balthazar strains at his leash and whines.

“What's the matter with Bally?” Mom asks.

“He didn't do his business.” I look at my brother. “Your turn, Dave.”

“Uh-uh. No. Forget it,” Dave says. “I am not taking that animal out for another walk. Over my dead body.”

Guess what? Dave walks Balthazar again. And by the time he gets home, I almost don't hear him come into the room. I am too busy thinking about conquering my next fear. And breaking a world record. And wondering how Stanley is doing. And pretty soon I am pretending not to notice the fly buzzing over my head. And wondering whether maybe it is a tsetse fly that could bite you and kill you. Or whether it is a regular ordinary housefly.

And then I turn off my mind and do what comes naturally: I fall asleep.

Lee Salem

BOB BALABAN
is the author of the popular McGrowl series. He was inspired to write
The Creature from the Seventh Grade
because when he was twelve he was something of a creature himself. As he puts it: “I was the shortest, skinniest kid in my class. I wore braces and big black glasses with Coke-bottle thick lenses, and my hobbies were making dioramas and learning Irish folk dances. I didn't have scales and an eight-foot tail, but I might as well have.”

When he is not writing children's books, Bob acts, directs, and produces. He produced and costarred in the Academy Award–winning movie
Gosford Park
and has been nominated for a few Emmys, some Screen Actors Guild awards, four Golden Globes, and a Tony Award. He has appeared in nearly a hundred movies.

Bob is happy to call Bridgehampton, New York, his home.

Jennifer Rash

ANDY RASH
(www.rashworks.com) has illustrated many books by fine authors like Mr. Balaban, and has also written and illustrated several books of his own, including
Ten Little Zombies: A Love Story
and
Are You a Horse?
His award-winning illustration work has appeared in
Fortune, The New York Times, The New Yorker, Time, The Wall Street Journal
, and
Wired
, among others. He lives in Milwaukee with his wife and son.