[Goosebumps 12] - Be Careful What You Wish For... Page 3

  You know. To unwind before starting our homework.

  Ron glanced out of the dining room window. “Did it stop raining?”

  “Yeah. It stopped,” I told him. “About half an hour ago.”

  “It’ll still be real wet,” he said.

  “A few puddles won’t ruin your game,” I told him, laughing.

  Ron’s a really good basketball player. He’s a natural athlete. So of course he has almost no interest at all in playing with me. He’d rather stay up in his room reading a book. Any book.

  “I’ve got a lot of homework,” Ron said, pushing his black-framed glasses up on his nose.

  “Just a few minutes,” I pleaded. “Just a little shooting practice.”

  “Help your sister,” Dad urged. “You can give her some pointers.”

  Ron reluctantly agreed. “But only for a few minutes.” He glanced out the window again. “We’re going to get soaked.”

  “I’ll bring a towel,” I said, grinning.

  “Don’t let Punkin out,” Mom said. “He’ll get his paws all wet and track mud on the floor.”

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Ron grumbled.

  I knew it was stupid, but I had to see if my wish had come true.

  Would I suddenly be a great basketball player?

  Would I suddenly be able to outshoot Ron? To actually throw the basketball into the basket?

  Would I be able to dribble without stumbling? To pass the ball in the direction I wanted? To catch the ball without it bouncing off my chest?

  I kept scolding myself for even thinking about the wish.

  It was so dumb. So totally dumb.

  Just because a crazy woman offers to grant three wishes, I told myself, doesn’t mean that you have to get all excited and think you’re instantly going to turn into Michael Jordan!

  Still, I couldn’t wait to play with Ron.

  Was I in for a big surprise?

  8

  Yes. I was in for a surprise.

  My shooting was actually worse!

  The first two times I tossed the ball at the hoop, I missed the garage entirely and had to go chase the ball over the wet grass.

  Ron laughed. “I see you’ve been practicing!” he teased.

  I gave him a hard shove in the stomach with the wet basketball. He deserved it. It wasn’t funny.

  I was so disappointed.

  I told myself over and over that wishes don’t come true, especially wishes granted by crazy women out wandering in the rain.

  But I couldn’t help but get my hopes up.

  I mean, Judith and Anna and the other girls on the team were so mean to me. It would be totally terrific to come to the game against Jefferson Elementary tomorrow and suddenly be the star of the team.

  The star. Ha-ha.

  Ron dribbled the ball to the hoop and made an easy lay-up. He caught his own rebound and passed the ball to me.

  It sailed through my hands and bounced down the driveway. I started running after it, slipped on the wet surface, and fell face down into a puddle.

  Some star.

  I’m playing worse! I told myself. Much worse!

  He helped me up. I brushed myself off.

  “Remember, this was your idea!” he said.

  With a determined cry, I grabbed the ball, darted past him, and dribbled furiously to the basket.

  I had to make this basket. I had to!

  But as I went up for my shot, Ron caught up with me. He leapt high, raised his arms, and batted the ball away.

  “Aaaagggh!”

  I let out a frustrated shout. “I wish you were only a foot tall!” I cried.

  He laughed and ran after the ball.

  But I felt a tremor of fear roll down my body.

  What have I just done? I asked myself, staring into the darkness of the back yard, waiting for Ron to return with the ball. Have I just made my second wish?

  I didn’t mean to! I told myself, my heart thudding wildly in my chest. It was an accident. It wasn’t a real wish.

  Have I just shrunk my brother down to a foot tall?

  No. No. No. I repeated over and over, waiting for him to reappear.

  The first wish hadn’t come true. There was no reason to expect the second wish to come true.

  I squinted into the heavy darkness of the back yard. “Ron—where are you?”

  Then I gasped as he came scampering toward me over the grass—a foot tall—just as I had wished!

  9

  I froze like a statue. I felt cold as stone.

  Then, as the tiny figure emerged from the darkness, I started to laugh.

  “Punkin!” I cried. “How did you get out?”

  I was so happy to see him—so happy it wasn’t a tiny Ron scampering over the grass—I picked up the little dog and hugged him tight.

  Of course his paws got me covered with wet mud. But I didn’t care.

  Sam, you’ve just got to chill, I scolded myself as Punkin struggled free. Your wish about Ron couldn’t come true because Clarissa isn’t here with her glowing red ball.

  You’ve got to stop thinking about the three wishes, I told myself. It’s just dumb. And you’re making yourself crazy over them.

  “What’s going on? How’d he get out?” Ron cried, appearing from the side of the garage with the ball.

  “Must’ve sneaked out,” I replied with a shrug.

  We played a few more minutes. But it was cold and wet. And no fun at all, especially for me.

  I didn’t sink a single basket.

  We finished with a foul shot competition, a short game of HORSE. Ron won easily. I was still on the O.

  As we trotted back to the house, Ron patted me on the back. “Ever think of taking up tiddly-winks?” he teased. “Or maybe Parcheesi?”

  I uttered an unhappy wail. I had the sudden urge to tell him why I felt so disappointed, to tell him about the weird woman and the three wishes.

  I hadn’t told Mom or Dad about her, either. The whole story was just too stupid.

  But I thought maybe my brother would find it funny. “I have to tell you about this afternoon,” I said as we pulled off our wet sneakers in the kitchen. “You won’t believe what happened to me. I—”

  “Later,” he said, pulling off his wet socks and tucking them into the sneakers. “I’ve got to get to that homework.”

  He disappeared up to his room.

  I started to my room, but the phone rang. I picked it up after the first ring.

  It was Cory, calling to ask how my basketball practice had gone after school.

  “Great,” I told him sarcastically. “Just great. I was so fabulous, they’re going to retire my number.”

  “You don’t have a number,” Cory reminded me. What a friend.

  Judith tried to trip me in the lunchroom the next afternoon. But this time I managed to step over her outstretched sneaker.

  I made my way past Judith’s table and found Cory nearly hidden in the corner near the trash baskets. He had already unwrapped his lunch and had a very unhappy expression on his face.

  “Not grilled cheese again!” I exclaimed, dropping my brown paper lunchbag on the table and pulling out the chair across from him.

  “Grilled cheese again,” he muttered. “And look at it. I don’t even think it’s American cheese. I think my dad tried to slip in cheddar on me.”

  I opened my chocolate-milk carton, then pulled my chair in closer. Across the room, some boys were laughing loudly, tossing a pink-haired Troll doll back and forth. It landed in someone’s soup, and the table erupted in wild cheers.

  As I picked up my sandwich, a shadow fell over the table. I realized that someone was standing behind me.

  “Judith!” I cried, turning my head.

  She sneered down at me. She was wearing a green-and-white school sweater over dark green corduroys. “Are you coming to the game after school, Byrd?” she demanded coldly.

  I set down the sandwich. “Yeah. Of course I’m coming,” I replied, puz
zled by the question.

  “Too bad,” she replied, frowning. “That means we don’t have a chance of winning.”

  Judith’s pal, Anna, suddenly appeared beside her. “Couldn’t you get sick or something?” she asked me.

  “Hey, give Sam a break!” Cory cried angrily.

  “We really want to beat Jefferson,” Anna said, ignoring him. She had dark red lipstick smeared on her chin. Anna wore more lipstick than all the other seventh-graders put together.

  “I’ll try my best,” I replied through clenched teeth.

  They both laughed as if I had made a joke. Then they walked off, shaking their heads.

  If only my stupid wish would come true! I thought bitterly.

  But of course I knew that it wouldn’t.

  I figured I was in for more embarrassment and humiliation at the game.

  I had no idea just how surprising the game would turn out to be.

  10

  The game felt weird from the beginning.

  The Jefferson team was mostly sixth-graders, and they were pretty small. But they were well-coached. They really seemed to know where they were going. And they had a lot of energy and team spirit.

  As they came trotting to the center of the gym for the opening tip-off, my stomach was fluttery and I felt as if I weighed a thousand pounds.

  I was really dreading this game. I knew I was going to mess up. And I knew that Judith and Anna would be sure to let me know just how badly I messed up, and how I let the team down.

  So I was really shaky as the game started. And when, in the opening tip-off, the ball was slapped right to me, I grabbed it—and started dribbling toward the wrong basket!

  Luckily, Anna grabbed me and turned me around before I could shoot a basket for Jefferson! But I could hear players on both teams laughing.

  And I glanced at the sidelines and saw that both coaches—Ellen and the Jefferson coach—were laughing, too.

  I could feel my face turn beet-red. I wanted to quit right then and go sink into a hole in the ground and never come out.

  But—to my amazement—I still had the ball.

  I tried to pass it to Judith. But I threw it too low, and a Jefferson girl stole it and started dribbling to our basket.

  The game was ten seconds old, and I’d already made two mistakes!

  I kept telling myself it was just a game, but it didn’t really help. Every time I heard someone laugh I knew they were laughing at me, at how I’d started the game by running in the wrong direction.

  When I looked up at the score for the first time, it was six to nothing, Jefferson.

  The ball suddenly came sailing to me, seemingly from out of nowhere. I grabbed for it, but it slipped out of my hands. One of my teammates took it, dribbled, then passed it back to me.

  I took my first shot. It hit the backboard—a triumph for me!—but didn’t come near the basket. Jefferson took the rebound. A few seconds later, it was eight to nothing.

  I’m playing worse than ever! I moaned to myself. I could see Judith glaring angrily at me from across the floor.

  I backed up, staying in the corner, away from the basket. I decided to try and keep out of the action as much as possible. Maybe that way I wouldn’t embarrass myself quite so much.

  After about five minutes into the first quarter, things started to get weird.

  The score was twelve to two, Jefferson.

  Judith threw the ball inbounds. She meant to throw it to Anna. But Judith’s toss was weak, and the ball bounced to a short, blonde-haired Jefferson player.

  I saw Judith yawn as she ran after the girl.

  A few seconds later, the ball was loose, bouncing near the center of the court. Anna made a weak grab for it. But she seemed to be moving in slow motion, and the blonde Jefferson player snatched it from her hands.

  Anna stood watching her, breathing hard, perspiration running down her forehead. I had to stop and stare. Anna looked exhausted—and we’d only been playing five minutes!

  The Jefferson team dribbled all the way across the floor, passing the ball from girl to girl, as our players stood and watched.

  “Let’s go, Mustangs!” Judith cried, trying to rouse everyone. But I saw her yawn again as she walked to the sidelines to throw in the ball.

  “Come on, girls! Hustle! Hustle!” Ellen was shouting from the sidelines, her hands cupped around her mouth. “Run, Judith—don’t walk! Let’s look alive!”

  Judith sent another feeble throw onto the floor. It bounced away from a Jefferson player. I scooped it up and started to dribble it, running full speed.

  Just outside the key, I stopped, turned, and looked for someone to pass it to.

  But to my surprise, my teammates were still far behind me, walking slowly, exhaustedly, in my direction.

  As the Jefferson players swarmed around me, trying to take the ball away, I took a shot. It hit the rim of the basket—and bounced right back into my hands.

  So I took another shot. And missed again.

  Judith raised her hands slowly to catch the rebound. But the ball bounced right through her hands. She frowned in surprise, but didn’t make a move to go after it.

  I grabbed the ball, dribbled twice, nearly tripped over it—and shot.

  To my amazement, the ball bounced on top of the hoop, landed on the rim, and then dropped through.

  “Way to go, Sam!” I heard Ellen shout from the sidelines.

  My teammates uttered weak cheers. I watched them go after the Jefferson players, yawning and moving in slow motion, as if in some kind of trance.

  “Pick it up! Pick it up!” Ellen was shouting encouragement.

  But her words didn’t seem to help.

  Judith tripped and fell to her knees. As I stared in bewilderment, she didn’t get up.

  Anna was yawning loudly, walking toward the ball, not running.

  My two other Mustang teammates also seemed to be wandering hazily in slow motion, making lame attempts to defend our basket.

  Jefferson scored easily.

  Judith was still on her knees, her eyes half shut.

  What on earth is happening? I wondered.

  A long, shrill whistle broke into my thoughts. It took me a while to realize that Ellen had called time out.

  “Mustangs—hustle up! Hustle up!” she shouted, motioning for us to cluster around her.

  I quickly trotted over to Ellen. Turning back, I saw Judith, Anna, and the others trudging over slowly, yawning, pulling their bodies with great effort.

  And as Ellen shouted for everyone to “hustle up,” I watched them wearily approach. Then I realized to my amazement that my wish had come true!

  11

  “What is the matter, girls?” Ellen demanded as we huddled on the sidelines. She glanced from player to player, examining each one with concern.

  Anna dropped down wearily to the floor, her shoulders slumped. It looked like she could barely keep her eyes open.

  Judith leaned her back against the gym’s tile wall. She was breathing hard, and beads of sweat rolled down her pale forehead.

  “Let’s get up some energy,” Ellen urged, clapping her hands. “I thought you girls were pumped for this game!”

  “There’s no air in here,” one of the players complained.

  “I feel so tired,” another one said, yawning.

  “Maybe we’re coming down with something,” Anna suggested from down on the floor.

  “Do you feel sick, too?” Ellen asked me.

  “No,” I told her. “I feel okay.”

  Behind me, Judith groaned wearily and tried to push herself away from the wall.

  The referee, a high school kid wearing a black-and-white-striped shirt about five sizes too big for him, blew his whistle. He signaled for us to get back out on the floor.

  “I don’t understand it,” Ellen sighed, shaking her head. She helped pull Anna to her feet. “I don’t understand it. I really don’t.”

  I understood it.

  I understood it perfectly.
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  My wish had come true. I couldn’t believe it! That strange woman really did have some kind of magical powers. And she had granted my wish.

  Only not quite the way I had imagined.

  I remembered my words so clearly. I had wished to be the strongest player on the basketball team. That meant I wanted the woman to make me a stronger, better player.

  Instead, she had made everyone else weaker!

  I was the same klutzy player I’d always been. I still couldn’t dribble, pass, or shoot.

  But I was the strongest player on the team!

  How could I have been such a jerk? I scolded myself angrily as I trotted back to the center of the gym floor. Wishes never turn out the way you want them to.

  When I reached center court, I turned back and saw Judith, Anna, and the others trudging onto the floor. Their shoulders were slumped, and they dragged their sneakers over the floor as they walked.

  I have to admit I enjoyed it just a little.

  I mean, I felt perfectly fine. And they looked so weak and pitiful.

  Judith and Anna really deserve it, I told myself. I tried not to grin as they slumped into their places. But maybe I was smiling just a little.

  The referee blew his whistle and called for a jump ball to start things off. Judith and a Jefferson player faced each other at the center circle.

  The referee tossed the ball up. The Jefferson girl jumped high. Judith made a real effort. I could see the strain on her face.

  But her feet didn’t even leave the floor.

  The Jefferson player batted the ball to one of her teammates, and they headed down the floor with it.

  I chased after them, running at full speed. But the rest of my team could only walk.

  Jefferson scored with an easy lay-up.

  “Come on, Judith—we can catch them!” I shouted, clapping my hands cheerfully.

  Judith glared dully at me. Her green eyes looked faded, kind of washed out.

  “Pick it up! Pick it up! Let’s go, Mustangs!” I cheered energetically.

  I was really enjoying rubbing it in.