Spell of the Screaming Jokers (11 page)

BOOK: Spell of the Screaming Jokers
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Well, at least I would never have to
wear
the terrible thing. Since there was no way I was getting into the pool! I buried the suit under a pile of T-shirts.

No bathing suit, no Swim or Sink.

Dad knocked and popped his head into the room. “You kids ready?” he asked. He stepped inside. Mom followed behind him.

“It's time to
Get Wet!”
they cheered together.

I cringed. I had to get out of this. I couldn't let them discover my secret—that I couldn't swim.

“I can't find my bathing suit,” I said.

“No problem, Tad,” Mom reassured me. “We just stopped at the Wet Set Boutique and I couldn't resist these.”

She handed me what had to be the
ugliest
pair of swimming trunks I'd ever seen. Even worse than the volcano suit I had shoved into the back of the dresser.

Hmmmmm. Time for Plan B. If I could think of a Plan B.

“My stomach hurts!” I blurted. “Must have been something I ate.”

Polly snorted. “You haven't eaten yet,” she reminded me.

“You're just hungry,” Mom reasoned.

“So quit fooling around and let's go!” Dad said.

I had no choice. It was Swim or Sink time.

And I knew which I was going to do!

On our way to the Atlantis pool, I spied that weird guy with the bucket again. As I passed him, he paused and picked up a piece of litter.

“Watch out for the deep end,” he muttered. Then he scurried away.

What does
that
mean? What am I supposed to be
watching for? I wondered. If he was playing some kind of game, it wasn't funny!

But I couldn't think about him. I had bigger problems on my mind. In a few minutes, the fact that I couldn't swim would be out in the open. My mom, my dad, and my obnoxious sister were going to witness my humiliating plunge to the bottom of the pool.

But then something great happened! The lifeguards divided us into four groups: men, women, boys, and girls. My family would be down at the other end of the pool! I was so relieved I almost kissed Polly.

Almost.

“See you, Squirt!” I told her cheerfully. I jogged over to join my group.

Barry was our instructor. He blew a whistle and all the kids in my group jumped into the pool. Even me.

Ugh! I hate getting wet.

I clung to the side of the pool. I watched as the others splashed away from me. I figured I would do my usual trick of walking on the bottom and stroking my arms as if I were swimming. It always worked before!

But not this time! As soon as I let go of the side of the pool, I realized we weren't in the shallow end!
I frantically stretched my legs, trying to touch bottom. It was no good. I was in way over my head.

I thrashed my feet. I doggie-paddled. It was awful. Everyone was ahead of me and I kept swallowing the water they were kicking up.

Then I realized I wasn't alone. There were two other guys doing the doggie paddle too. We were the last in the group to make it to the other side.

“You three,” Barry called. “You're in the Guppy class.”

Oh, well. At least we didn't sink.

*  *  *

The next day I sat between the two other Guppies. One of the guys was tall, even taller than me. The other kid was kind of chubby. He had on trunks exactly like mine. I guess his mom hit the gift shop too.

I smiled at them. “I'm Tad,” I said.

The tall kid grinned. “Let me guess. They call you Tadpole.”

I nodded. “Yeah. That's my stupid Club Lagoona name. What's yours?”

“Even worse.” He lowered his voice. “My name's Neal. So they call me Eel.”

“Don't worry,” I reassured him. “I'll stick to Neal.” I turned to the chubby kid. “How about you?”

“Mark,” he replied.

“Shark!” Neal and I guessed together.

“You got it,” Mark-the-Shark admitted. He sighed. “This place gives me the creeps.”

“Me too,” I agreed. “Hey, has a weird little guy with a bucket—”

But before I could finish Barry shouted, “Okay, Guppies,
Let's Get Wet!”

Neal, Mark, and I glanced nervously at each other. Then we slowly slid into the pool.

Very slowly.

Barry started by having us stick our faces in the water. “Get used to getting wet!” he explained.

The next step was to open our eyes underwater.

“Okay, Tadpole, your turn.” Barry stood in front of me. “When I say so, go underwater. Then open your eyes and count how many fingers I'm holding out. Got that?”

I nodded.

“Go!” Barry commanded.

I ducked underwater and opened my eyes. I blinked a few times. The chlorine burned, but after a moment I got used to it. Barry's hand came down. He held out three fingers.

I was about to push back up when something behind Barry caught my attention. Something moving. Something green.

I peered past Barry's hand. The water made everything a little blurry.

Whatever it was had vanished.

I was running out of air. I surfaced, gasping for breath.

“How many fingers, Tadpole?” Barry asked.

“Three,” I replied. I scanned the pool. What
was
that green thing? And where had it gone?

Neal and Mark each took his turn counting fingers. I watched their expressions as they came up. Neither one seemed to have noticed anything unusual underwater.

Had I imagined the green thing?

Next, Barry stood in the center of the pool. We had to push off from the side and swim underwater to him.

“If I start to drown, you'll save me, won't you?” I murmured to Neal and Mark. I was only half-kidding.

“If you don't have to save me first!” Neal joked back.

“Go!” Barry cried.

I took a deep breath and went under. I pushed my feet against the side of the pool. The force propelled me forward.

I glanced over to see how my fellow Guppies were doing. Mark's arms were flailing all over the place, but he was clipping through the water.

Neal's face twisted with effort. But he cruised along, too.

Then I saw it again. Something green.

Something that looked like a long, green tentacle.

And it was reaching for Neal!

I broke through the surface of the water. I shook my head, spraying water everywhere.

“What's the matter, Tadpole?” Barry called. “Did you run out of air?”

“No! I—I—” My eyes darted around the pool. What creature could be so huge that it had a tentacle that long?

But if it belonged to a gigantic sea monster, I reasoned, we would all see it.

Wouldn't we?

Neal and Mark stood beside Barry. None of them seemed worried. None of them had seen what I had seen. Which made me wonder if I had really seen it.

Forget it
, I told myself. I spent the rest of the lesson actually having fun. Neal and Mark were cool guys. Even Barry wasn't so bad, once you got used to him.

“Okay,” Barry announced. “That's it for today.”

As I climbed out of the water, Barry gave me a hand up. Then, a lifeguard rushed over to tell Barry he had a phone call.

“See you tomorrow!” Barry called as he dashed off.

I rubbed my head with my towel. I was feeling pretty good. Maybe Club Lagoona wasn't as horrible as I thought.

“That wasn't so terrible,” Neal declared.

“Yeah,” Mark agreed. “I think I'll even come to the next lesson.
Adios
, fellow Guppies.” He slung the towel around his neck and jogged away.

I said goodbye to Neal and headed back toward my room. I felt a little silly about imagining a green tentacled monster in the pool. Maybe I had been reading too many horror stories about the sea. My mom says I have a vivid imagination.

I smiled. I made it through a swimming lesson! Maybe I was beginning to like this place.

That's when I spotted my sister. She ran toward me.

Her eyes were enormous!

She was wet and shaking!

She was jumping up and down!

“The creature!” she blurted. “Have you seen the creature?”

About R. L. Stine

R. L. Stine, the creator of
Ghosts of Fear
Street
, has written almost 100 scary novels for kids. The
Ghosts of Fear Street
series, like the
Fear Street
series, takes place in Shadyside and centers on the scary events that happen to people
on Fear Street.

When he isn't writing, R. L. Stine likes to play pinball on his
very own pinball machine, and explore New York City with his wife, Jane, and
son, Matt.

This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are
used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.

Aladdin

An Imprint of Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing

1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com

Copyright © 1997 by Parachute Press, Inc.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or
portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230
Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

ISBN 0-671-00192-2
ISBN 978-1-4424-8837-3 (eBook)

Aladdin and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon &
Schuster Inc.

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