How I Got My Shrunken Head (5 page)

“Ow!”

I swatted a mosquito on my neck. Too late. I could feel the throb of its bite.

Rubbing my neck, I took a few steps through the tall weeds. I kept the circle of light in front of my feet.

Aa-OO-tah. Aa-OO-tah.

A shrill cry — very close by — made me stop.

Night in the jungle belongs to the creatures,
I remembered with a shiver.

Aa-OO-tah. Aa-OO-tah.

What
was
it?

Not a giant rabbit. It sounded really BIG.

I spun the light in a circle, keeping it low over the grass and vines. The smooth tree trunks shone purple in the pale light.

I didn’t see any animals.

I lowered the light.

My whole body was shaking. Despite the damp heat of the night, I couldn’t stop shivering.

A wind made the leaves all flap, the trees bend and whisper.

The jungle was
alive,
I realized.

Insects chittered all around. Fat leaves scraped and cracked. I heard the soft crackle of animal footsteps running over the ground.

Aa-OO-tah. Aa-OO-tah.

What
was
that?

Without realizing it, I had pressed myself against a low tree. I took a deep breath and held it, listening hard.

Was the animal moving closer?

Thick clumps of leaves hung down from the low branches, forming a kind of cave.
I’m protected under here,
I thought, gazing all around. I suddenly felt a little safer, hidden under the thick leaves, under the low branches.

Through my leafy roof, I glimpsed a sliver of white moonlight. It made the leaves gleam like silver.

I clicked off the flashlight and lowered myself to a sitting position on the ground. Leaning back against the smooth trunk, I gazed up at the moon, taking slow, steady breaths.

As soon as I felt calmer, I realized how tired I was. The sleepiness swept over me like a heavy blanket. I yawned loudly. My eyelids seemed to weigh a hundred pounds.

I tried to stay alert. But I couldn’t fight the drowsiness.

With the chittering of insects for a lullaby, I leaned my head against the tree trunk and drifted into a deep sleep.

I dreamed about shrunken heads.

Dozens of shrunken heads, the leathery skin purple and green, the black eyes glowing like dark coals, the dry black lips pulled back in angry snarls.

The heads floated and danced through my dream. They darted back and forth like tennis balls. They flew into me, bounced against my chest, bounced off my head. But I didn’t feel them.

They bounced and floated. And then the dry lips opened, and they all began to sing.
“Hurry, Mark. Hurry.”
That was their song.

The words came out hoarse and raspy. The sound of air rattling through dead leaves.

“Hurry, Mark. Hurry.”
An ugly, frightening chant.

“Hurry, Mark. Hurry.”

The black lips twisted into a sneer as they sang. The coal eyes glowed. The heads — dozens of shriveled, wrinkled heads — bobbed and bounced.

I woke up with the whispered words in my ear.

I blinked. Gray morning light shimmered down through the tree leaves. My back ached. My clothes felt damp.

It took me a few seconds to remember where I was.

The frightening dream stayed in my mind. My hand slid up to my T-shirt pocket. I felt the shrunken head tucked tightly inside.

My face itched.

I reached up to scratch my cheek — and pulled something off it. A leaf?

No.

I squinted at the insect in my hand. A large red ant. Nearly the size of a grasshopper.

“Yuck!” I tossed it away.

My skin tingled. My back itched. Something moved up and down my legs.

I jerked myself up straight. Alert. Wide-awake now.

Itching like crazy. My whole body tingling.

I stared down at myself. Stared down at my jeans and T-shirt.

And started to scream.

I jumped to my feet. I thrashed my arms in the air. I kicked my legs.

My body was covered with giant red ants.

Hundreds and hundreds of them. Crawling over my arms, my legs, my chest.

Their prickly legs scratched over my throat and the back of my neck. I pulled a fat one off my forehead. Then another off my cheek.

I reached up and felt them crawling in my hair.

“Ohhhh.” A low moan escaped my throat as I slapped at my hair. Swept my hands through it. Watched the big red ants fall to the ground.

I felt them crawl over the backs of my hands. Hot and prickly. So big. And so many of them.

I dropped to my knees, slapping at my chest, pulling the insects off my neck. I began rolling frantically in the tall grass, dripping wet from the heavy morning dew.

I rolled and slapped at myself. Rolled over and over, trying to flatten the insects, trying to kick
them off me. I grabbed another handful out of my hair and heaved them into a leafy bush.

I struggled back to my feet, twisting and squirming. Pulling at the big red ants.

But there were too many of them. My skin itched and tingled. Their tiny feet prickled my arms, my legs, my chest.

It itched so badly, I felt I couldn’t breathe.

I’m suffocating,
I realized.
The ants — they’re going to
smother
me!

“Kah-lee-ah!” I screamed, squirming and slapping. “Kah-lee-ah!”

To my surprise, ants started to drop off my body.

“Kah-lee-ah!” I screamed again.

Ants showered down to the ground. They leaped out of my hair, dropped off my forehead, off the front of my shirt.

I stared in amazement as they fell to the ground. Then they scurried away, climbing over each other, stampeding over and under the tall grass.

I rubbed my neck. I scratched my legs. My whole body still tingled. I still itched all over.

But the big ants were gone. They had all jumped off when I shouted my special word.

Special word.

I glanced down over my shirt, trying to rub away the horrible tingling. Inside my pocket, the shrunken head’s eyes glowed. A bright, yellow glow.

“Whoa!” I grabbed the head and tugged it from my pocket. I held it up in front of me.

“Kah-lee-ah!” I shouted.

The eyes glowed brighter.

My special word.

Where did the word come from? I didn’t know. I thought I made it up.

But I suddenly knew that the word was the secret behind the Jungle Magic.

The word — and the shrunken head.

Somehow the word brought the Jungle Magic to life. When I shouted it out, the ants jumped off me and hurried away.

I gazed at the glowing little head with new excitement. My heart pounded in my chest. I concentrated on the head, thinking hard.

I
did
have Jungle Magic.

Dr. Hawlings and Carolyn were right.

I had Jungle Magic and didn’t know it. And the word
Kah-lee-ah
was the key that unlocked it.

It had helped me get rid of the gross red ants. Would it help lead me to Aunt Benna?

“Yes!” I cried out loud. “Yes!”

I knew that it would. I knew I could find her now.

I was no longer afraid of the jungle and its creatures. No longer afraid of anything that might await me in this hot, tangled jungle.

I had Jungle Magic.

I had it — and I knew how to use it.

And now I had to find Aunt Benna.

A red morning sun rose over the treetops. The air was already hot and damp. Birds chirped and twittered on the tree limbs above me.

Holding the flashlight in one hand and the shrunken head in the other, I started to run toward the sun.

I’m going east,
I told myself.
The sun comes up in the east.

Was it the right direction to find my aunt?

Yes. I was sure it was right.
The Jungle Magic will lead me,
I decided.
I just need to follow it, and it will take me to Aunt Benna, wherever she is hiding on this island.

I ran over fat, leafy vines and low shrubs. I ducked under smooth white tree branches. Broad leaves of huge green ferns slapped at me as I ran through them.

The sun beamed down on my face as I made my way through a wide, sandy clearing. Sweat dripped down my forehead.

“Hey!” I cried out as my feet slipped on the soft sand.

My feet slid. I lost my balance. My hands shot out. The flashlight and the shrunken head flew onto the sand.

“Hey!”

I started to sink.

Sand rolled up over my ankles. Up my legs.

I kicked. I waved my arms wildly.

I pulled up my knees. Tried to step out of the deep sand.

But I was sinking, sinking faster now.

Sand up to my waist.

The more I struggled, the faster I sank.

Deeper, deeper. Down into the pit of sand.

I couldn’t move my legs. I had sunk too deep in the hot, wet sand.

The sand crept up over my waist.

There’s no bottom,
I thought.
I’m going to keep sinking. I’m going to sink down, down until it covers my head. Until I disappear forever.

My friends Eric and Joel once told me that there is no such thing as quicksand. I wished they were here right now. I could show them how wrong they were!

I opened my mouth to shout for help. But I was too panicked to make a sound. Only a tiny squeak came out.

What good is shouting?
I asked myself.

There’s no one around for miles. No one who will hear me.

The sand felt thick and heavy as I slid down, down deeper into it. I stretched both hands up over my head, my hands grasping, as if trying to grab on to something.

I tried moving my legs. Tried to pump them, like treading water or pedaling a bike.

But the sand was too heavy. I was in too deep.

My chest heaved with terror now. I gasped in breath after breath.

I opened my mouth once again to call for help.

And had an idea.

“Kah-lee-ah!” I screamed, my voice high and frightened.

“Kah-lee-ah! Kah-lee-ah!”

Nothing happened.

“Kah-lee-ah! Kah-lee-ah!”

I screeched the word at the top of my lungs. But I continued to sink deeper, deeper into the wet, marshy pit of sand.

“Kah-lee-ah!”

No. Nothing.

I waved my arms over my head. And stared up at the pale blue sky. At the trees at the edge of the clearing.

Nothing but trees as far as I could see.

No one around. No one to help me.

“Oh!” I suddenly realized why the magic word wasn’t working. I didn’t have the shrunken head. The head had flown from my hand when I fell into the sandpit.

Where was it? Where?

Did it sink into the sand?

My eyes frantically searched the yellow-brown surface. The wet sand bubbled all around me, making a
pock-pock-pock
sound. Like a thick soup.

I sank deeper.

And saw the shrunken head.

It lay on the surface. Its black eyes stared up at the sky. Its hair was tangled beneath it, spread over the sand.

With an excited cry, I stretched out both hands and tried to grab it.

No. Too far away. Just out of my reach. Inches out of my reach.

“Unnnnh.”
I uttered a low grunt as I struggled to grab it. Stretched out my hands. Stretched. Stretched.

I leaned forward into the sand. Leaned and stretched.

And grabbed for it. Grabbed for it, curling my fingers. Groaning and grunting. Reaching. Reaching across the wet sand.

But no.

I couldn’t get it. The head lay a foot from my fingertips.

A foot that seemed a mile.

No way. No way.

My fingers grabbed only air. I couldn’t reach it.

I knew I was doomed.

My hands dropped heavily onto the wet sand. I let out a defeated sigh.

My hands made a loud slapping sound as they hit the sand.

And the head bounced.

“Huh?” I uttered a startled cry. My heart started to pound.

I slapped the surface of the wet sand again with both palms.

The head bounced. Closer.

Another hard slap. Another bounce.

The head lay only a few inches away now.

I grabbed it, held it tightly — and joyfully shouted out the word.
“Kah-lee-ah! Kah-lee-ah!”

At first, nothing happened.

My breath caught in my throat. I froze.

“Kah-lee-ah! Kah-lee-ah!”

I expected to fly up. To be lifted out of the sandpit. To float magically over to hard ground.

“Jungle Magic — please work! Please work!” I cried out loud.

But I didn’t move. I sank a little deeper. The sand crept up over my chest.

I stared at the shrunken head in my hand. The black eyes appeared to stare back at me.

“Help me!” I cried. “Why aren’t you helping me?”

And then I saw the vines.

Yellow-green vines creeping over the sandpit. Moving like long snakes. A dozen twisting, crawling vines, slithering toward me from all directions.

My heart pounded as I watched the vines slither closer. Closer. Until I reached out with my free hand and grabbed for the end of one.

But the vine swept past my hand, moving quickly with surprising force. It wrapped itself around my chest — and started to tighten.

“No!” I uttered a cry of protest. Was it going to strangle me?

Another vine dipped into the sand. I felt it curl around my waist.

“No — stop!” I wailed.

The vines tightened around me. And then they began to pull.

The wet sand made a
thwock
sound as I started to move through it.

Holding the shrunken head in the air, I let the vines tug me through the sand. They pulled hard and fast. The sand flew at my sides.

A few seconds later, the vines tugged me, on my knees, onto hard ground. I let out a happy cry. The vines instantly let go. I watched them pull back, curling quickly into the tall weeds.

I hunched there, struggling to catch my breath, watching until the vines slithered out of sight. Then I pulled myself to my feet.

My legs felt shaky and weak. My whole body trembled from my close call.

But I didn’t care. I felt like jumping up and clapping and shouting for joy. The Jungle Magic had worked. The Jungle Magic had saved me once again!

The wet sand clung to my jeans, my shirt, my arms — even my hair! I shook myself furiously. I tucked the shrunken head into my shirt pocket. Then I began slapping at my clothes, brushing off chunks of sand.

Now what?
I asked myself, glancing quickly around. The sun had risen high in the sky. The trees and ferns and tall grass gleamed, a shimmering blur of green and gold. The air had grown hot. My shirt clung wetly to my back.

Now what?

How do I find Aunt Benna?

I pulled the shrunken head from my pocket and held it in front of me. “Lead the way,” I ordered it.

Nothing happened.

I brushed chunks of sand off its leathery skin. I pried sand from between its thin black lips.

I turned toward the sun and took a few steps. Was I still walking east?

To my surprise, the dark eyes on the shrunken head suddenly started to glow.

What did that mean? Did that mean I was getting close to Aunt Benna? Did it mean I was walking in the right direction?

I decided to test it.

I spun around and started walking back toward the sandpit.

The eyes on the head instantly dimmed back to black.

I turned and started walking north.

The eyes remained dark.

I turned back in the direction of the sun.

Yes! The eyes began to glow again. “Kah-lee-ah!” I cried happily. The head was guiding me to my aunt.

Animals howled and insects chittered loudly as I made my way through the trees and tall weeds. It all sounded like music to me now.

“Aunt Benna, here I come!” I cheered.

I found myself walking deeper into the jungle. I had to keep ducking my head to avoid low branches and thick vines that stretched from tree to tree.

I heard weird bird calls overhead. As if the birds were talking to each other. As I ducked
under a low limb, the whole tree seemed to shake. And a thousand blackbirds leaped off the branches, cawing angrily, so many of them they darkened the sky as they flapped away.

I suddenly came to a small clearing that forked into two branches, one to the left, one to the right. Which way should I go?

I held the shrunken head in front of me, watching it carefully. I started to the left.

The eyes grew dark. Wrong way.

I turned and started to the right, watching the eyes begin to glow again.

Was Aunt Benna hiding somewhere in these trees? Was I getting close?

The trees ended suddenly again, and I found myself in a grassy clearing. I squinted in the bright sunlight, my eyes sweeping over the shimmering green grass.

A low growl made me spin back toward the trees.

“Oh!” I let out a sharp cry as I saw the tiger. My legs nearly crumpled under me.

The tiger raised its head in another growl. An angry growl. It pulled back its lips, baring enormous teeth. It arched its back, its yellow-brown fur standing straight on end.

Then with a furious hiss it came charging at me.