In the Land of the Lawn Weenies (18 page)

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Authors: David Lubar

BOOK: In the Land of the Lawn Weenies
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I
had no idea Tonya had all that power. None of us knew. If we did, we never would have taken her doll and teased her. We thought she was a normal kid like the rest of us. Still, considering the basically harmless nature of our behavior, I think her reaction was way too extreme. I've had a lot of time to think about it, and I'm pretty sure she went too far.
“A curse on all of you,” she shouted, pointing at us while we tossed her doll around.
I sort of laughed. I know the others did. I could hear Larry's loud laugh, along with Ken's. Mike was chuckling. I'm sure Terry was laughing, too. But I felt a bit sorry for Tonya. So I reached over and grabbed the doll from Mike and threw it back to her.
“We were just having some fun,” I said.
“A curse,” she said again, ignoring the doll that lay crumpled at her feet. “Beware what you say, beware what you do. From this moment on, all your words will come true.”
“Oh wow, what a curse,” Larry said. He laughed even louder. Then he turned away from her and said, “Come on, let's get out of here.”
I waved at the gnats that had gathered around my head, then followed the rest of the gang. The bugs were bad this year.
“Did you hear her?” Mike said. “She really has a wild imagination. A curse. Hah.” He swiped at the bugs.
I looked back. Tonya was still there, watching us, smiling. Something about the sight made me shiver. But it was stupid to worry about things that can't exist. I certainly didn't believe in curses.
Until two minutes later.
That's when Larry waved at his head and said, “These bugs are eating me alive.”
The next part is a bit hard to describe. Suddenly, there was a cloud of gnats around him. Then more. And then even more. In seconds, Larry was covered with gnats. There was this big, black, buzzing Larry-shaped mass of insects. Then the gnats flew away. They left nothing behind. Larry was gone.
The rest of us just stared at each other for a moment. Mike, who never could keep his mouth shut, was the next to speak. “She did it,” he said. “It's real … the curse. I'm sunk.”
The instant the words left his lips, I knew he
was in deep trouble. I suspect it took Mike a second longer than that to catch on, but by the time he did, he was already up to his ankles in the ground and sinking fast.
That was it for him. He sank from sight. The ground swallowed him like pudding swallows a spoon. He left no more of a trace than Larry.
We stood there, afraid to talk.
“Any ideas?” Ken finally said. He and Terry looked at me. I was supposed to be the smart one in the group. At the moment, I wasn't feeling very wise.
“We could apologize to her,” I suggested, speaking carefully and making sure my words had no double meanings that the curse could feast on.
They nodded. That seemed like a good idea all around. We walked, in silence, back to where Tonya had been. She wasn't there.
“Now what?” Terry asked.
That's when I came up with the answer. “I am no longer cursed,” I said. It was that simple.
Ken and Terry watched me, as if they expected something awful to happen. But I was pretty sure my idea had worked. I had to test it. I held out my hand. “I'm holding a baseball,” I said.
Nothing happened. Relief washed over me. “You try it,” I told Terry.
“There's a baseball in my hand,” he said.
Again, I was the first one to realize the mistake. Terry held his hand up, staring in obvious disbelief. He should have said he was holding a baseball. Instead, he'd said there was one
in
his hand. And there was. He had this huge, swollen lump bulging
from his palm. I could almost see the stitches on the ball through the tightly stretched skin. It must have hurt. The way he went screaming down the street, I'm sure it hurt.
“Hey,” Ken said after Terry had raced far enough away that we couldn't hear him anymore. “At least we know you cured yourself. I just have to do the same thing. I hate to lose this power, but I guess it's pretty dangerous.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “This isn't the kind of thing we want to fool around with. One slip and something terrible could happen.” I was talking pretty freely now that I had lifted the curse from myself. In a moment, Ken would do the same, and at least he and I would be okay. It was great to realize I had survived.
“Good thinking,” Ken said.
“Thanks.”
“You really are a brain.”
I tried to answer. But my legs and arms and body and head seemed to have disappeared. I couldn't see or hear or smell or taste. But I could think. That's about all a brain can do. I guess Ken could make me normal again, if he thought of doing it. But, knowing him, that idea will never rise to the surface of his dim little mind.
Thanks a lot, Ken, you idiot. I hope you do something really stupid to yourself.
 
 
I
've got the only brother in the world who's afraid of cows. I know he's just three, and kids that age aren't much more than sticky little bundles of fear, but cows? Give me a break. It wouldn't be so bad, except our house is right next to a dairy farm. There's a fence at the edge of our backyard. We're on one side—me, Mom, Dad, and screaming Barry—and the cows are on the other. The cows are black and white, like the ones you see in the comics sometimes.
It started the day we moved here. Right after we pulled into the driveway, I went to check out the backyard. As usual, Barry stumbled along behind me. As soon as we got around the house, he screamed so loud I almost broke my back spinning toward him. When Barry screams, I usually get blamed, so I'm pretty quick to shut him up. He
was pointing at the fence, his mouth wide open, making no sense at all.
“Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!!”
That's pretty much what it sounded like. I figured there was a bee flying around or something. Mom and Dad were out front, so I couldn't ignore the screams. If they found me standing there while Barry was trying to blow his tonsils out of his throat, I'd probably get a lecture.
“What's wrong?” I asked.
He didn't even look at me. He just kept pointing. Finally, he screamed an actual word. “Inside!”
“Sure. Anything you say, little brother.” I picked him up. He was so stiff, it was like carrying an armful of baseball bats. I took him in through the back door and put him down on the kitchen floor. “Look, Mom and Dad are stressed out enough with all this moving stuff. Don't give them any trouble, okay?”
“Cows,” Barry said. At least he wasn't shouting. It came out as sort of a whimper.
“Yup, cows,” I said.
Twin footsteps echoed through the house as the folks crossed the bare floors and marched into the kitchen.
“Is something wrong?” Mom asked. “Did you do something to your brother, Robert?”
“Nah,” I said. “Barry got a little spooked by all the new stuff out there, but it's under control.”
“Are you sure?” Dad asked.
“Positive.”
That satisfied them. They went back to dealing with the boxes that were stacked all over the
place. I looked at Barry. He was still a bit red in the face, and sort of slimy around the nose, but it didn't seem like he was going to start screaming again or pass out or anything.
It got worse after that.
Barry wouldn't go near the backyard if there were any cows in sight. This meant he stayed inside or played in the front most of the time. The cows went to a barn to eat, and they wandered around a bunch of pastures, but there were usually at least a few out back.
Whenever Barry caught sight of them, he'd stand glued in place, point straight ahead, and start screaming “Cows!” or shouting “Inside!” Then I'd have to pick him up, carry him into the house, and find some way to distract him until he calmed down.
I was getting pretty sick of the whole routine.
After about a month of that nonsense, I decided it was time for little brother to get cured of his fears.
It was early in the evening. The sun was just dipping down below the horizon. Mom and Dad were at some sort of dinner thing with the local Lions Club or one of those other groups they belong to.
“Let's go out,” I said to Barry.
“Cows?” he asked, looking up at me from the floor where he sat surrounded by plastic building blocks. “Cows, Robert?”
“Come on, there's nothing to worry about.” I held out my hand. I figured the longer he stayed
calm, the closer I could get him to the cows before he started screaming.
Barry took my hand and we walked out the back door. It was growing pretty dark, which was good. If there were cows, he wouldn't spot them right away.
I didn't see any near the yard, but it looked like there were a dozen or so far off by a tree. “Come on,” I said, “let's have an adventure.”
“Where?”
“You'll see.” I lifted Barry over the fence. He clung to my arm, which made it tough for me to step over the top wire. There were these electric things hooked up to shock the animals if they tried to get across. I didn't know how much of a jolt they gave, but I sure didn't want to find out.
We got about halfway to the cluster of cows before Barry caught on.
“Inside!”
“No way, pal,” I said, tightening my grip on his hand. “It's time for you to face your fears. Someday, you'll thank me for this.”
He dug in. But I was tired of all his tantrums and screaming, so I just dragged him along. It's nice being bigger and stronger. He screamed all the way. I was afraid someone would come running from the farmhouse, but it was far off beyond the pasture. It was pretty much just Barry and me and the cows.
“There's nothing to be scared of,” I said, shouting loud enough so maybe he would hear me over his screams. “They're cows—that's all. They don't even eat meat. They're just stupid, smelly cows.”
“Inside!” Barry screamed.
We were right in the middle of the group of cows now. In the dark, they looked like big, harmless hunks of beef. Most of them were standing. A couple were sprawled on the ground. I'd had it with the screaming. “Look,” I said to Barry. Then I kicked one of the cows. It was like kicking a leather couch. The stupid animal didn't even glance over at me.
“See?” I said. “Nothing to be scared of.” I kicked it again.
My plan wasn't working. Barry was so freaked he was making these almost silent screams now. It sounded like when I've pulled the neck of a balloon and let the air squeak out, but it was the squeak that comes at the very end, after most of the pressure is gone. “Face it, kid—we're standing here until you get over this.”
That's when I heard it—that ripping sound. But it wasn't a dry rip, like cloth. It was a wet rip.
Barry gasped. Then he got real quiet. He wasn't even trying to scream anymore. That scared me.
I looked to my left as another ripping sound came from the cow next to me. Then there was a wet dripping sound. Then a splashing splat, like five pounds of cottage cheese dropping to the ground.
“Inside,” Barry said. He said it quietly. He pointed to the cow.
Something under the cow, something that had dropped from it to the ground, started to stir.
It slithered away from beneath the cow.
The cow fell to its knees, then rolled on its side. It didn't move at all after that.
The thing crawled toward us.
“Inside,” Barry said. He turned and pointed to another cow behind us.
Rip.
Then again to the right.
Rip.
That wet sound, dropping from inside the cow, was repeating all around us. I looked at the cow in front of me. In the dim light, I could see the claws and the arm that ripped through from inside. I could see the thing wriggle and crawl out into the world.
They started coming closer.
Barry looked up at me. His eyes seemed calm now. “I told you.”
The last of the cows fell. The things from inside moved toward us. They were too wet and shiny to be seen clearly. But they had teeth. Not cow teeth. Not flat teeth for chewing grass, but predator teeth. They didn't move fast, but I wasn't going to wait to see what would happen if they reached us.
As I started to step away, the closest one leaped at me. It hit my stomach, digging claws into my shirt. I slapped at it as I felt a sting in my flesh. My slap was hard enough to knock the thing off.
I turned to run.
I made it to the fence and into our yard before I realized I'd left Barry behind. I stood there, panting, shivering. I started to climb over the fence again, but I couldn't. There was no way I was going back near those things. Whatever my parents might do to me, it couldn't be worse than
what those things probably wanted to do. I didn't know what they were, or how Barry could tell they were inside the cows. But I knew I wasn't going back.
I looked down at my shirt. It was ripped, but not too badly. I felt my stomach. There was only a small scratch. I'd been lucky.
Beyond the fence, I saw something moving.
Could it be?
Even in the dark, I knew that walk.
“Barry?” I half whispered it.
He kept walking toward me. He got closer. He reached the fence. I stretched over, grabbed him under the arms, and lifted him. “You okay?” I asked as I set him down on the ground. He seemed fine—no scratches on his skin or tears in his clothing. Maybe he was too small for them to bother with. Suddenly, I realized I might get out of this without any kind of trouble.
Barry looked up and took a step away from me.
“You okay?” I asked again. He wasn't talking, but I guess I could understand him being quiet after the scare he'd had. “You can see those things somehow, can't you? You could tell they were in the cows, right?”
He took another step back.
“Come on, it's over. Let's go.”
Barry lifted his arm. He pointed at me. “Inside,” he said, pointing his finger straight at my stomach. “Inside Robert.” He stared at me for a moment, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and sorrow. Then he turned and ran.

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