The Slime That Would Not Die (2 page)

“Dad!” I blurted. “This is for today! This can't be for real. Is this for real?”

Dad's eyes were as wide as mine.

“Looks real to me,” Dad mumbled.

“Why do you think he's making a last-minute appearance
now
?” I asked Dad. “How could I not have heard about it? Why didn't Ms. Shenanigans tell me? She knows how much I like the B-Monsters—”

“Take a breath, Jess,” Dad said. “Why don't you call and see if you can still make the screening?”

Dad was right. Quickly, I dialed the main number at the library.

Everything inside of me wanted to scream. This was way more than just some ordinary event at the library. This was big; maybe even bigger than Rodiak, the biggest B-Monster of all time! I took a great gulp of air and tried to relax, like Dad said, but relaxing was impossible. It's not every day that your biggest dream in the world falls into your recycling basket.

I dialed again.

It was already 5:15 P.M.

“Dad?” I asked, tapping my foot as I hit redial over and over. “Can we get all your old issues of
B-Monster Galaxy
down from the attic so I can get them signed tonight?”

Dad laughed. “All of them? Really?” he asked. “There are at least three huge cartons. We don't have time . . .”

“What about your B-Monster trading card collection?”

“Jesse,” Dad said with a sigh. “The entire collection? I doubt Mr. Leery will have time to sign any of that stuff. Why don't you try to call—”

“Shhhh!” I cried. “It's ringing. Someone's picking up the phone.”

“Hello?”

“Hello!” I gasped into the receiver. “Ms. Shenanigans? This is Jesse Ranger from the fifth-grade reading club, remember me?”

“Of course, Jesse,” Ms. Shenanigans said. “How can I help you?”

“I need to reserve a spot for the Oswald Leery screening. It's still tonight, right?”

“Right. But, I'm sorry, Jesse, that event is full.”

“Full?”

I felt all the air hiss out of me like a popped balloon.

“Oh, wait!” Ms. Shenanigans clucked. “Your name is already on our VIP list.”

“Huh?”

“Yes, it's right here. Jesse Ranger!” she cheered. “At the very top of my list.”

I had no idea how my name got on that list, but I wasn't going to question it. There was no time for questions now.

“If you're coming, you'd better hurry up,” Ms. Shenanigans said. “Even our VIP seats fill up fast!”

“Okay. I'll be there in a snap!”

I hung up the phone and bent down to tighten my sneaker laces.

“Dad!” I yelled. “Warm up the car! We have somewhere to go and no time to get there!”

CHAPTER 2

I nearly tripped headfirst off our bottom porch step as we raced for the car. My shoelaces had come undone already! They always do that.

Dad grabbed me by the back of my T-shirt and heaved me up. We got into the car. Dad turned the ignition key.

My eyes fell on the digital car clock. 6:02.

“We're going to be late, Dad,” I gasped.

“Jesse, we'll make it,” Dad said with a wide smile. He leaned on the gas pedal and we revved into the road.

I breathed a sigh of relief, like Roger Rogers, the hero from
Slimo
and other Bs. Roger always says “Ready to bust some heads!” and “Motor on, monster!” Stuff like that.

“Don't tell Mom that we missed dinner, okay?” Dad said. He handed me a plastic shopping bag with a yogurt, banana, and plastic spoon. “Eat this, will you?”

“Don't worry, Dad,” I told him, putting the bag on the floor. “I'm not even that hungry.”

I was still thinking about the whole VIP library list. I knew VIP stood for very important person, but what did that have to do with me? Who put me on the list? I couldn't shake the thought that something really weird was going on.

Thankfully the screening was on a Tuesday—Mom's late night at work.

If she had been here, Mom probably would have dreamed up ten reasons to keep me home, especially since everything had happened at the last minute. For starters, Mom hates to rush. For another thing, she doesn't get the whole B-Monster world, no matter how many times I try to explain it.

“I really wish I could go to see Leery with you,” Dad said as he changed lanes and sped up. It was 6:12.

“Me too,” I said. “I can't believe you've never seen
Slimo
on the big screen.”

“Too bad you didn't have time to call Garth. You two would have had fun.”

Garth Gable is my funniest friend at Riddle Elementary. We like a lot of the same things: hockey, Ring Dings, Xbox, Chinese water dragons, and bettas. I just wish that Garth loved B-Monsters as much as me. But sometimes it's hard to convince friends to like the same stuff that you do, no matter how hard you try. Whenever I try to get Garth to watch Bs with me, he always finds an excuse to go home.

We pulled into the library parking lot by 6:16, our best time ever. Dad parked behind a minivan and dropped me at the curb.

“Jesse,” Dad said, “I'll come back to pick you up at eight-thirty. I don't know if I'll be able to park, so meet me right here out front.”

“Bye, Dad!” I jumped out of the car, slammed the door, and waved good-bye.

What a mob! There must have been a hundred kids climbing the steps toward the library's enormous carved wooden doors. There were a few adults, too, like stray moms and dads who'd come to drop off their kids and a few other grown-ups trying to sneak in on their own. It reminded me of that terrible scene in Leery's classic,
Mega Mantis
, where everyone in town gets chased by the swarm of super flies.

One guy pushed just ahead of me in the crowd. He had on dark glasses and a black leather jacket. And he was definitely not a kid!
He
actually looked like a super fly.

But something about him seemed familiar, too. I recognized a pair of blue-green sneakers. Hey! It was my science teacher!

“Mr. Bunsen?”

The crowd rushed forward.

“Mr. Bunsen?”

I tried peering over everyone's head, but I lost sight of him.

“Hey, no pushing!” some kid barked. Then he elbowed me in the side.

The closer I got to the entryway, the more dangerous it became. Another kid slammed into my shoulder and stepped on my high-tops. Then this short kid grabbed me by the jean jacket and growled like a grizzly. Kids were taking this so seriously! I had no clue other kids loved the Bs as much as I did.

At last I got through the doors and into the children's reading room. But where was the sign that read
VIP
?

I saw at least one person I knew, another fifth-grader. Her name is Stella Min, but everyone calls her Ninja. She has long black hair that always droops in her face. I heard she has a brown belt in karate. That's why everyone calls her Ninja. I think she saw me, too, but she quickly turned and sat down in a seat near the front of the room. It was right next to the VIP sign I was looking for!

Aha! I pounced on a blue folding chair in the VIP row.

I looked around at everyone else in the section. What made all
these
kids very important? I couldn't figure it out.

And then
he
jumped in front of my face.

Damon Molloy is the boy in my class who, just last year, duct-taped a hockey puck to some kid's stomach. One time he pounded me so hard in dodge ball that I got a bruise the size of a watermelon.

“Yo, Ranger!” Damon said, smacking me on the arm.

Damon acts scary, but he looks even scarier. His spiky blond hair always makes it seem like he just poked his finger into a supercharged socket. He wears these extra-friendly T-shirts, too. Tonight's T-shirt said:STAND BACK. I MEAN IT.

“Yo, Ranger, I saw you from across the room. What's a dork like you doing in VIP?”

I wasn't sure how to answer that.

“I'm on the list,” I blurted.

“Yeah, well,” Damon snarled. “
That
must be a mistake. It's not the Very Idiotic Person list.”

“B-b-but . . .” I stammered. “I was here.”

“Just move over,” Damon barked. “I need three seats for me and my VIP friends. You can sit behind us. It's the same difference.”

“No, I'm sitting here,” I asserted, trying hard to sound tough on the outside even though I felt more like Jell-O on the inside.

“Sitting here with who?” Damon asked, picking his ear and flicking it at me. “Your imaginary friend club? Move!”

What was I supposed to say to
that
?

I started to stand up, ready to move, but then a girl appeared.

“Jesse?”

It was Lindsey Gomez. She's in my homeroom. When Damon saw her he got this crooked grin on his face like he was about to kick us
both
to the curb.

Thankfully, his two moronic friends yelled, “DAMON! OVER HERE!” and he ditched us to go and join them in the front row. All he wanted all along was a better VIP seat.

What a relief
, I thought. I turned to Lindsey.

A sleek digital camera hung around her neck, and she had a rolled-up
B-Monster Galaxy
issue under one arm.

“You read that?” I said, pointing to the magazine. Leery's photograph was on the cover.

“At least a hundred times!” Lindsey hugged the magazine. “I love Oswald Leery so much,” she said, grinning. “Do you think he'll sign this for me?”

“Sure, he might—”

“My grandfather used to take photos for B-Monster Studios a long time ago. He took the photo on the cover of this magazine,” Lindsey said.

“Wow, that's—”

“Aren't you glad the library is doing this? I brought my camera to take some photos for the school paper. Did you know that this many people watched Bs?”

I shook my head and stared at the floor.

“What's the matter?” Lindsey said. “B-Monster got your tongue?”

The lights flickered.

Ms. Shenanigans stood at full attention at a table at the front of the room. She had a microphone in hand. Her head bobbed as she tried to count us one by one. She tapped the microphone. “Can everybody hear me?”

Damon and his two obnoxious friends yelled back. “WE HEAR YOU!”

Up behind the podium, next to Ms. Shenanigans, was a large, flat object covered by a drop cloth.

What was under
there
? Was it a prop from Leery's collection? Maybe it was something cool from a brand-new B-Monster movie?
That
would be just about the best thing that could possibly happen! If I saw a sneak preview of some cool contraption or painted model from the B-Monster master's new masterpiece, I would be the happiest kid in Riddle. No, I would be the happiest kid in the United States, in North America, on the Earth, and in the entire solar system.

“Welcome, everyone, to tonight's screening of
Slimo
!” Ms. Shenanigans spoke into the microphone. “Ready to see the movie?”

Everyone cheered.

“As you know, kids, we had a very, very special guest scheduled to be here with us tonight. He is a Riddle legend. His family has been here for generations, making movies . . .”

I bit my lip. Wait. Go back.

Did Ms. Shenanigans just say that she “had” a very special guest—as in
past tense
? I wasn't sure I'd heard correctly.

“Unfortunately,” Ms. Shenanigans said, “Mr. Leery had some urgent business matters to tend to. He could not make it here tonight . . .”

The crowd sighed.

“But,” Ms. Shenanigans held her hands up in the air. “I have another surprise.”

Low, slow, creaking music droned out of speakers nearby. It sounded just like the music Oswald Leery always plays in the Bs, like just before some unsuspecting kid gets turned into monster soup. I didn't know what we were in for, but I knew it had to be creepy—in a good way.

The lights dimmed very low.

I saw someone step out of the shadows behind Ms. Shenanigans. He was tall and skinny and wore a long cape. Or was it a coat? I couldn't tell. I couldn't see his face either.

Slowly, the mysterious figure walked toward us with arms outstretched.

My stomach did a flip-flop.

Then the room went black.

CHAPTER 3