Goosebumps Most Wanted - 02 - Son of Slappy (7 page)

“Jackson?” she repeated.

I lowered my eyes to my backpack.
Maybe I can tell her I picked up the test by accident.

“Jackson, I understand you had a very scary experience in the art room,” Miss Hathaway said.

“Uh … yeah,” I murmured.

“Are you feeling okay? If you’d like to go take a short rest in the nurse’s office …”

I let out a long breath.
She didn’t see me take the test.

“No, I’m fine,” I said. “Just a little shaky. But I’m okay.”

Everyone was looking at me now. “I’ll probably have nightmares about dogs tonight,” I said. “Dogs with big paintbrushes.”

It was a lame joke, but a few kids laughed.

Miss Hathaway smiled — but her expression suddenly changed. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open. She was staring at the spot where the History test had rested.

“Uh-oh,” she said. “Uh-oh.” She jumped to her feet. Her face turned bright red. She drummed the desk with her fingers.

“The History test for tomorrow seems to be missing,” she said through clenched teeth. I could see she was trying to stay calm. But she was angry and upset and couldn’t hide it.

Her eyes swept the room. She was going from face to face.

“I’m sure someone picked it up by accident,” she said. “If you’d like to return it now, I won’t say another word about it.”

Kids mumbled and whispered.

Across the room, I saw Stick give Miles a shove. “Go ahead, Miles. Give it back,” he said.

Everyone turned to them. Stick tossed his hands up. “Joking!” he said. “Just joking.”

Miles punched Stick in the ribs. “How funny was
that
?”

“That was a lame joke, Mickey,” Miss Hathaway scolded him. “This is a serious matter. Stealing a test from a teacher’s desk is serious. It’s a school crime. You can be suspended for doing this.”

The room grew silent again.

My head buzzed. I felt as if I were gazing through clouds.

Miss Hathaway pressed both hands on her desk. “I’m going to ask one more time,” she said. “If you took the test, bring it up here and no questions will be asked.”

No one moved.

She drummed her fingernails on the desk. She turned to Clay Dobbs. Clay is like my sister, Rachel — always in trouble. There’s one in every class.

“Clay?” Miss Hathaway said, giving him the evil eye. “Do you have something you want to tell me?”

Clay let out a bleating sound. Like a sheep caught in a fence. “No way!” he cried. “Why are you looking at
me
?”

Miss Hathaway raised her eyes to Stick and Miles. “You boys were joking, right? You didn’t really take the test, did you, Miles?”

Miles shook his head. “I get A’s in history,” he said. “No way I need to cheat.”

“Then who took it? Come on. Somebody confess.” Miss Hathaway’s eyes moved slowly from face to face.

She didn’t even glance at me. She knew Jackson Stander would
never
steal a test. She knew what a good, honest dude I am.

As I watched her, I had to laugh.
Ha-ha. Too bad for you losers. I’ll get an easy A tomorrow. I’ll get every single answer right.

Whoa. Wait. I suddenly realized the kids were all staring at me. Miss Hathaway, too.

Oh, no. They were staring at me because I was
cackling at the top of my lungs.

I hurried home after school. Stick and Miles wanted to hang out. But I told them I had too much homework.

My brain felt normal. I wanted to take care of my Slappy problem while I still felt like myself.

I heard voices in the den, but I didn’t stop to say hi. I ran up the stairs and into my room. I closed the door behind me.

Slappy sat on my bed, just where I’d left him that morning. He opened his eyes wide when I walked in and tilted his big head toward me.

“How’s it going, Son?” he called in his high, tinny voice.

“Don’t call me that!” I screamed. “Don’t ever call me son!”

“Tell me, Son, did you get my signal?”

I scowled at him. “I got your signal. I heard
your stupid chirp. You made me wreck all the YC posters and the art room. And you made me steal a test.”

He tossed back his head and laughed. “That’s a start, Son.”

“No — not a start!” I cried. “That’s the
end
. I mean it, Slappy. Stay out of my head. You can’t do that to me again!”

I tried to sound tough, but my voice trembled and cracked.

His eyes shut, then quickly opened. “The fun hasn’t started, Son. Today was just practice.”

“Noooo!” I let out a cry and dove toward him. I had the sudden urge to pick him up and tear him to pieces.

But before I reached the bed, I heard that sound again. A loud
chirp
.

I staggered to a stop. I suddenly felt too dizzy to walk. The ceiling and floor appeared to be closing in on each other.

I shook my head hard, trying to shake the weird feeling away.

And then I heard my mom’s voice shouting up from downstairs. “Jackson? Are you home? Come down and say hi. Aunt Ada, Uncle Josh, and your cousin Noah are here.”

I groaned. Cousin Noah? He was eight and he acted like he was two. I hated to eat dinner with him. He always had food stuck to his
teeth. And he whined all the time, whined like a baby.

But I had no choice. I turned away from Slappy and started out of my room. I was heading down the hall when I heard his raspy shout:

“Have a great dinner, Son.”

I hurried downstairs. Everyone was already sitting at the dining room table.

I hugged Aunt Ada and shook hands with Uncle Josh. Noah stuck his tongue out at me and made a spitting sound.

“Noah, is that the way you say hi to your cousin?” Aunt Ada scolded him.

He laughed. “Yes.” Then he spit again.

Uncle Josh just shook his head. He and Aunt Ada are like opposites. She’s skinny and talks all the time. He’s pretty fat and almost never says a word. I always think they’re like salt and pepper. In fact, she has black hair, and his hair is white.

Noah has a round baby face, short brown hair like fuzz on an egg, and two front teeth that stick out and make him look like Bugs Bunny. He always wears a baggy T-shirt and cargo shorts. He doesn’t like long pants.

I took my seat next to Rachel. She was tapping her spoon on her bowl, waiting for the soup to be poured. Rachel gets very impatient at mealtime.

Mom served the soup. Then she said, “Jackson, tell Aunt Ada how much you like the sweater she bought you.”

I opened my mouth to speak — but my head felt heavy. I felt very strange.

“It’s a terrific sweater,” I told my aunt. “I don’t wear it. I use it as a snot rag.”

“As a
what
?” Aunt Ada’s mouth dropped open.

“Yeah, I blow my nose in it,” I said.

Noah was the only one who laughed. Dad dropped his soup spoon. Rachel stared at me as if I was some kind of weird animal species.

Mom squinted at me. “Jackson? Was that a joke?”

“Your
soup
is a joke,” I said. “I’ve puked up better food than this!”

Mom gasped and nearly fell off her chair. Noah started to choke on his soup. Aunt Ada slapped his back.

I’m saying these horrible things, and I can’t help myself.

Slappy is in my head. He is totally controlling me. These are his horrible jokes, and he’s forcing me to say them.

I couldn’t stop myself. I held up a spoonful of
the pea soup. “I’ve seen better looking scabs,” I said.

I turned to Uncle Josh. “Are you really that fat?” I said. “Or does someone inflate you in the morning? Didn’t I see you in the Thanksgiving parade?”

He scowled at me. He gazed at my mother. I could see he was confused.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “You’re not fat. You’re TOO BIG to be fat. Where do you shop for clothes? Piggly Wiggly?”

Aunt Ada jumped to her feet. She bumped her soup bowl, and soup splashed onto the tablecloth.

“Jackson — this isn’t like you at all,” she cried. “I can’t believe you’re so rude.”

“I can’t believe you’re so ugly,” I said. “Do you have to take
lessons
to be that ugly?”

“That’s enough!” Mom screamed. She jumped to her feet and rushed over to me. She put a hand on my forehead. “This isn’t like you at all. There’s something very wrong. Are you sick?”

I brushed her hand away. “Get used to it,” I said. “Like I had to get used to your chimpanzee face. Did you always look like that? Or were you in a bad car accident?”

I turned to my dad. “You like horror movies. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“Jackson, stop!” he screamed. “Did someone dare you to insult everyone?”

“Did someone dare you to be so stupid?” I replied. “You’re thirty-six, right? But is that your age or your IQ?”

I dipped my spoon into my pea soup and sent a glob of soup flying across the table into Noah’s face. Noah uttered a startled cry.

Now, everyone was on their feet. Mom and Dad each took a shoulder and pushed me out of the dining room. “Have you gone crazy?” Dad demanded. “
Have
you?”

“Should I call the doctor?” Mom asked in a trembling voice.

“He’s bad. He’s gone bad!” Rachel cried. I could see the big smile on her face.

Dad guided me to the stairs. “Just go to your room. Stay up there till you’re ready to come back and apologize.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” I said.

They watched me climb the stairs. They were all muttering and shaking their heads in shock.

I slumped into my room. My head felt about to explode. All the horrible things I’d said kept repeating in my mind.

I raised my eyes to Slappy, perched on my bed.

He grinned at me. “How was dinner, Son?”

I threw myself across the room and grabbed Slappy by the shoulders. I shook him, shook him hard.

A giggle escaped his open mouth.

I tossed him back against the wall. My chest was heaving. I could barely breathe. “Don’t call me
son
,” I said.

He giggled again.

How can this be happening? He’s just a doll. He’s made of wood and plastic.

I could hear voices from downstairs. Everyone was talking at once.

“Listen to them,” I said. “Listen to how upset they are. They want to take me to a doctor. They know I don’t act like that. They know I couldn’t mean those things,” I said.

“Tough beans,” the dummy muttered.

“Why?” I cried. “Why are you making me do these horrible things?”

His eyes blinked. “Evil is its own reward,” he said. “Relax, Son. You’ll learn to love it!”

“Noooo!” I shouted. “No, I won’t. You’ve got to stop. You’ve got to leave me alone!”

“Calm down, Son,” the dummy said. “I’m proud of you. You’ve come a long way. You were the best, nicest, sweetest kid in the world. And now you’re as sick and twisted as I am.” He chuckled. “That’s something to be proud of.”

“No. No way —” I started to protest. “You can’t —”

I heard a
chirp
. The room appeared to shake.

Perched on the bed, Slappy tossed his head back. He opened his wooden mouth wide and began to laugh.

And … and … I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t control myself.

I tossed back my head — and I laughed with him.

I laughed and laughed. Crazy, horrible laughter.

I couldn’t stop even when I saw someone in the bedroom doorway.

Rachel. Standing at the door. Squinting hard at me, hands on her waist, as I laughed along with the dummy.

I didn’t stop until she cried out in alarm: “Jackson — what’s so funny?”