Little Shop of Hamsters Page 3

  Dad sat in his usual chair at the end of the table. He’s big and red-faced and tough. He was an NFL tackle for a year, before he hurt his knee. Now he manages a truck rental company.

  He is always grumpy when he’s hungry, so he didn’t say much.

  Mom is tiny and very pretty. She always sits at the other end, closest to the kitchen — and closest to Noah, in case he acts up. Which is always.

  Tonight he started dinner by putting string beans up his nose. “Look what grows!” he called to Lexi. “Look what grows!”

  He’s always worse when Lexi is around. He likes to show off for her. Especially since she laughs at all his horrible jokes.

  Lexi is way too nice to Noah. But she thinks he’s adorable, just like my parents do.

  I think he’s adorable, too — if you spell adorable h-o-r-r-i-b-l-e!

  We started passing around the chicken and potatoes. Noah spilled his apple juice onto his plate and started to laugh.

  It was an accident. But why does he always think his accidents are so funny? Why doesn’t he ever feel bad about them?

  I grabbed my napkin and helped mop up the apple juice. “Be careful, Noah,” Dad muttered. He didn’t look up from his chicken legs.

  Mom poured Noah another glass of juice.

  Then things were calm for a while. After two or three chicken legs and a pile of mashed potatoes, Dad started to get in a better mood. Lexi talked about an e-mail she got from a girl she met at HorrorLand.

  “Nice you made a new friend,” Mom told her.

  “I’m your friend,” Noah said to Lexi. He had mashed potatoes all over his cheeks — and in his EARS!

  I decided to tell Mom and Dad about the new pet shop. I told them about the owner, Mr. Fitz, and how the store had one enormous glass case with hundreds of hamsters running around in it.

  And then I said, “Can I have a hamster? Please please please?”

  I didn’t mean to beg. It just came out that way.

  Dad shook his head no and kept chewing away on a chicken leg.

  “You know the rule,” Mom said. “You can have any pet you want as soon as you prove you’re responsible.”

  “But how can I prove I’m responsible if I don’t have a pet?” I demanded.

  Mom scrunched up her face. She always does that when she’s thinking hard. “Tell you what, Sam,” she said. “I’ll give you some tests. If you pass, we’ll see about buying you a hamster.”

  I groaned. “What kind of tests?”

  Noah raised himself to his knees on the chair next to me. “I’ll be your pet,” he said. He started panting like a dog. Then he began to lick my arm.

  Mom, Dad, and Lexi burst out laughing.

  Yuck. He was getting my arm sopping wet.

  I tried to swing it free. But Noah grabbed on with both hands and kept licking. “Stop it!” I shouted. “Noah — give me a break! Down boy! Down!”

  That made everyone laugh even harder.

  “I’m your pet! I’m your pet!” Noah cried. And then he clawed my arm!

  “Ow! Stop!” I shouted.

  Lexi leaned across the table and whispered to me. “I can help you. I think I can distract him.”

  “Look! I’m a hamster!” Noah exclaimed. He bunched his hands into paws — and then he bit me!

  Lexi reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a little blue box. I recognized it. The Insta-Gro Pets from HorrorLand.

  She struggled to open it. Finally, she ripped it open.

  She pulled out a tiny piece of blue sponge. It was about the size of a quarter.

  Noah dug his teeth into my skin.

  “Please — hurry!” I cried.

  Lexi plopped the little sponge creature into Noah’s apple juice glass.

  It fizzed for a few seconds. It began to crackle. Then it POPPED.

  With a loud WHOOOOSH, the blue spongy stuff exploded! It blew up like a bubble-gum bubble.

  CRAAAAACK. The juice glass shattered and flew apart. Apple juice went pouring over the table again.

  The sponge creature inflated fast, rising like a helium balloon. It bobbed from side to side, spreading itself over the table … growing wider, wider … taller.

  Mom and Dad both screamed. Noah let go of my arm and dropped back into his chair.

  The huge spongy creature thumped against Noah — and sent him toppling off his chair. The chair crashed to the floor.

  “Monster!” Noah shouted. “Monster!”

  The blue thing grew bigger … BIGGER. Its body was as big as a car! Its head tilted up like a Tyrannosaurus rex!

  It jumped. Jumped again. Plates and food platters went sliding off the table. They clattered to the floor. Glasses shattered.

  We all jumped to our feet. I stepped in broken glass as I stumbled back.

  Mom had both hands pressed to her cheeks. She was screaming: “Do something! DO something!”

  But the Insta-Gro Pet kept growing. It bobbed and bounced as it spread and grew.

  THUD. THUD. THUD.

  So heavy! I thought it might crack the dinner table!

  Bawling at the top of his lungs, Noah backed into me.

  Dad stood frozen, his face twisted in shock.

  I raised my eyes as the creature’s head banged the ceiling light. The fixture cracked, then came flying apart. Big pieces of glass shot down on us. The lightbulb shattered and went dark.

  Noah kept yelling, “Monster! Monster!”

  Lexi covered her head with her hands and screamed.

  The creature’s head jammed against the ceiling. The huge body tilted on the tabletop from side to side.

  “It — it won’t stop GROWING!” I cried. “LOOK OUT! It’s going to FALL!”

  It tilted over us. Bounced once. Twice. Then finally settled.

  Silence.

  A strange hush fell over the room. The only sound was Noah’s sniffling sobs.

  The enormous creature stood completely still. Its head poked up against the shattered ceiling light. Its huge body spread over the whole dining room table.

  Mom crunched over the broken plates and glasses and hurried to hug Noah. “Are you okay?” she cried. “Is everyone okay?”

  We all answered quietly. I think we were totally dazed.

  “What a mess,” Dad muttered. I looked down. Dad was standing on the chicken platter.

  Mom hugged Noah. “What is that thing?” she cried.

  “It — it’s a toy we got at HorrorLand,” I stammered.

  Noah stuck a hand out and squeezed the blue Insta-Gro Pet body. It made a scritchy sound. Noah laughed. He grabbed it with both hands and squeezed.

  “Noah — let go!” Mom pulled him away. “That thing is dangerous! And we don’t know what it’s made of!”

  Noah laughed. “Me like it. Can me have one?”

  Dad was scowling at me. He pointed to the big creature. “I’ll bet this was Sam’s idea.”

  “Well … yes,” Lexi replied. “I mean, it’s mine. But Sam got it for me.”

  “Lexi — please shut up!” I cried. “You’re not helping!”

  Dad shook his head. “Sam, you definitely flunked your first test.”

  “What test?” I cried in a high, shrill voice. “What do you mean? I didn’t DO anything!”

  A loud POOOOF made us all jump.

  The giant creature tilted forward — so far, it almost crashed into the dining room window.

  Then … SCRITCH SCRITCH SCRITCH … it began to shrink.

  We all stood perfectly still and watched as it squeezed itself smaller and smaller. Like a balloon losing its air.

  It took only a few seconds. And it was the size of a quarter again. It lay there in the center of the table — just a little blue dot surrounded by broken dishes. It didn’t move.

  Mom shook her head. “What a horrible thing!” she cried. “I’ve never seen anything so awful! At least it doesn’t stay big for long. Now, everybody pitch in. Let’s get this mess cleaned up.”

  Mom and Dad bent d
own and began picking up pieces of broken plates and broken glass. I hurried to the kitchen and brought the trash can to dump all the broken stuff.

  Lexi came over to me and stuffed the package of Insta-Gro Pets into my hand. “You take this, Sam. It’s too dangerous. I don’t want it anymore.”

  “Hey — I don’t want it, either,” I told her. “No way.” I tossed the package into the garbage can.

  “Get the vacuum, Sam,” Mom said. “Noah, be careful. There’s broken glass everywhere. Go up to your room until we get it all vacuumed up.”

  “Me don’t want to,” Noah said. He crossed his skinny little arms in front of his chest and wouldn’t move.

  Cute kid, huh?

  We vacuumed. We mopped. We swept. We did everything you can to clean up broken plates and glasses.

  Dad kept glaring at me as we worked.

  “It’s not my fault! Really!” I cried. “Why do I get blamed for everything?”

  “Who else would buy an Insta-Gro Pet?” Dad grumbled.

  A short while later, Dad left to drive Lexi home. Mom was putting Noah to bed.

  I trudged up to my room and plopped down at my desk. I picked up the cell phone candy dispenser and popped a sour candy into my mouth.

  Yum.

  I thought about that freckled hamster and how much he liked the candy. He was so eager to get more, he clung to my shirt pocket and wouldn’t let go!

  Well, they ARE good candies, I thought. That hamster had good taste!

  I popped another one into my mouth.

  “They’re so tingly,” I murmured. When it melted in my mouth, it made my whole face tingle.

  No. My whole body. It made my whole body tingle.

  Weird. What a weird feeling.

  I popped another one into my mouth. I couldn’t stop.

  A few days later, Mom gave me my real first test.

  She was standing at the mirror in the front hall, fiddling with a floppy maroon cap. She tucked her dark hair under the cap. Changed her mind. Let her hair fall back to her shoulders.

  “I’m going out for a short while,” she said.

  “And you want me to watch Noah?” I asked.

  She nodded, studying herself in the mirror. “Go up to his room and play with him,” she said.

  “No problem,” I told her.

  “Not too rough,” Mom added.

  “I hope you told Noah that!” I said. “He’s always beating me up!”

  Mom set the cap down and tossed back her hair. She started for the door. “Remember this is a test, Sam.”

  “I’ll definitely pass!” I said. “I’m totally responsible, Mom. Really.”

  I followed her to the kitchen door. “I already picked out a place for the hamster cage in my room,” I said. “On the shelf near the window. So he will get a lot of sunlight. Know what I’m going to call my hamster?”

  “Not now, Sam,” Mom said. She opened the door to the garage.

  “Hammy,” I said. “That’s a good name for a hamster, right? Hammy the Hamster?”

  “Sam —”

  “But I’ve been thinking. Maybe I need two hamsters. I mean, one hamster all by himself could get pretty lonely, don’t you think?”

  “Sam — please,” Mom said. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You haven’t passed the first test yet!” She stepped down into the garage. “Go play with Noah. Bye.” The door closed behind her.

  “Oh, right. Noah,” I said.

  Mom’s car started up. I headed to Noah’s room — but the front doorbell rang. I pulled open the door. “Oh, hi.”

  Lexi stood there wearing a black T-shirt with a bright yellow frowny face on the front and a short denim skirt over black tights. “I came to apologize,” she said.

  She pushed past me into the house. She had a yellow leaf caught in her hair. I pulled it out and handed it to her.

  “I’m totally sorry,” she said. “You know. About the other night. The Insta-Gro Pet and everything. Everyone blamed you. But it was my fault, too.”

  I shrugged. “That’s old news,” I said. “Noah was attacking me. You were only trying to help.”

  Lexi picked up my mom’s maroon cap and tried it on. She turned it around a few times, tilted it this way and that, then put it down.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m watching Noah,” I said.

  “Oh, good. I can help.” She searched in her bag and pulled out her iPhone. “You have to check this out, Sam. It’s a new app I just got.”

  “What does it do?” I asked. I took the phone from her and squinted at the screen. “It looks like a bunch of chickens.”

  Lexi nodded. “Okay. Go ahead and tilt the phone. Watch.”

  I tilted the phone to its side. Two of the chickens laid eggs. “Cool,” I said.

  “It’s a game,” Lexi said. “You have to tilt it so all five chickens lay eggs.”

  I tilted it again. Nothing happened. Two chickens clucked, but no eggs.

  “It’s not as easy as it looks,” Lexi said. “If you tilt it the wrong way, the eggs crack open, and you lose.”

  She took the phone from my hand. She held it up straight for a few seconds. Then she tilted it slowly.

  Four chickens laid eggs.

  “Almost!” Lexi cried. “Four out of five. See? It’s not that easy.”

  “Let me try again,” I said. “This is totally cool. The chickens are so real-looking.”

  I held the iPhone carefully. Tilted it slowly. One chicken flapped its wings loudly. Three chickens laid eggs.

  Lexi laughed. “You’re getting it. It takes practice.”

  I tried it a few more times. Then I let out a gasp.

  “Noah!” I cried. “I forgot all about him!”

  I raced up the stairs to my little brother’s room. My heart was beating hard in my chest. How long had I been playing the chicken game? Five minutes? Ten?

  I stopped in his doorway. I saw him down on the red carpet. And I screamed:

  “NO! NOAH! NO! OH, NOOOOOO!”

  My eyes practically bulged out of my head. I gaped at the little blue thing in Noah’s chubby hand.

  An Insta-Gro Pet!

  Noah was down on the floor on his knees. He turned when I screamed and grinned at me. “Me grow big!” he said. “Sammy, me grow big!”

  “NOOOO!” I let out another scream. I dove into the room. I dropped to the floor.

  Too late. He stuffed the blue sponge creature into his mouth.

  He started to chew.

  My breath caught in my throat. I felt my heart skip a beat.

  I grabbed Noah’s head and chin. I struggled to pry his mouth open.

  He twisted and squirmed. He fought me, clamping his jaws tight.

  But with a burst of strength, I tugged open his mouth. Poked two fingers between his teeth — and pulled out the blue Insta-Gro Pet!

  “Gimme it!” Noah shouted. He swiped a hand at it. “Gimme it! Me grow big!”

  I swung it out of his reach — and tossed it to Lexi at the door.

  She dropped it. The little blue sponge creature rolled across the carpet.

  I held Noah back. It wasn’t easy. The little guy is stronger than he looks.

  Lexi dove for the pet. She grabbed it off the carpet and stuffed it into the pocket of her denim skirt.

  “Gimme it!” Noah wailed.

  I saw the package with the rest of the Insta-Gro Pets on the floor near his bed. I plucked it off the carpet and jammed it safely into my jeans pocket.

  I turned angrily to Noah, still on his knees on the floor. “You took this out of the garbage — didn’t you!” I shouted. “Well, that’s bad, Noah. Keep your paws out of the garbage — hear me?”

  He opened his mouth in a loud wailing sob. His face turned nearly as red as the carpet. He tossed back his head and cried and cried. Little teardrops trickled down his red cheeks.

  I turned to Lexi. “What’s up with this? He’s being a total baby.”

  “We need to distrac
t him,” Lexi replied. She had to shout over Noah’s frantic screams.

  “Quick! Show him the chicken game,” I said.

  She shook her head. “It’s downstairs. I’ll get it.”

  Noah sobbed and beat his fists on the carpet.

  “Oh, wait,” I said. “I know.” I pulled the cell phone dispenser from my pocket. “Here, Noah — check it out. Want a candy?”

  I popped an orange ball from the phone and slid it into Noah’s mouth.

  He started to suck on it. At least it made him stop crying.

  He swallowed it and pointed to his mouth. “More. More candy.”

  Lexi laughed. “He’s a tough guy,” she said.

  I popped another candy out of the phone. He grabbed it from me and jammed it between his lips.

  “More! More candy!”

  I started to squeeze the phone again. But a voice behind me at the bedroom door made me stop. I spun around. “Mom?”

  She stomped into the room. “You’re giving him candy?” she cried. “That’s how you prove you’re responsible, Sam? You stuff your little brother with candy?”

  “More!” Noah demanded, holding out his hand. “More candy!”

  I let out a long, sad sigh. “Can’t I do anything right? I’ll never get a pet now.”

  But suddenly, I had a great idea. I knew just how I would prove to Mom and Dad that I was totally responsible.

  After school the next day, I hurried across town to the Little Shop of Hamsters.

  The door swung open as I burst inside. I spotted Mr. Fitz behind the front counter. He was putting bottles of Vito-Vigor water onto the counter.

  Hamster wheels squeaked inside the huge cage. Several hamsters were having a race, darting back and forth the length of the cage.

  “Sam,” Mr. Fitz said. “You’re all out of breath.”

  I waited a few seconds for my heart to stop pounding. “I — I ran all the way from school,” I said.

  He ran his fingers through his curly black-gray hair and scratched his head. “Did you come here to buy a hamster?”

  “No,” I said. “I can’t. Yet. Remember? I have to prove to my parents that I’m responsible.”

  “How’s it going so far?” he asked.

  He popped the top off a Vito-Vigor bottle. He stepped to the back of the cage and began to fill a water bottle.