The Wizard of Ooze Read online

  He even smelled like oil!

  I stumbled back. My mouth dropped open. “Are you for real?” The words tumbled out.

  “Yeah. Sure, kid,” he rasped. “And SpongeBob SquarePants is running for president!”

  Sammy giggled.

  “Know what I mean?” The Ooze said, talking out of the side of his mouth. His famous slogan.

  Sammy giggled again. He edged away from The Ooze. His eyes were on me.

  “That’s an awesome costume!” I exclaimed.

  “I like your costume, too,” The Ooze shot back. “What are you dressed as — a total geek?”

  I laughed. This guy was as mean as the real Ooze! He was a really good actor.

  “Can you sign a book for me?” I asked him.

  He growled at me. “Get lost, kid. I’m on my break.”

  Black gunk dripped like thick tar down his arms. His bumpy head was covered in goo. He clenched and unclenched his wet fists.

  “Hey, boss, Marco here says he has the original issue,” Sammy told him.

  The Ooze guy froze in place. “No kidding.” He gazed down at me. “What’s a punk like you doing with that book? It’s a very rare edition.”

  “I — I know,” I stammered.

  The Ooze guy turned to Sammy. “I’d love to get my hands on that book.”

  Sammy picked up the card I’d filled out and studied it. “Me, too,” he said. “Listen, Marco — if you change your mind, I’ll pay you three hundred dollars for that book. Think about it.”

  I knew I didn’t want to sell. But I said, “Okay. Maybe.”

  I said good-bye and started to walk away. I’d forgotten all about Gabriella. I saw her waving to me from the Weasel World booth down the aisle.

  “You won’t believe what just happened to me,” I said.

  “Tell me on the bus,” she said. “I’m late. I promised my mom I’d get home in time to walk the dog.”

  She started to pull me toward the exit. “Whoa. Wait.” I felt a blast of heat on my back. A shadow swept over me. I inhaled a sharp, sour odor.

  I spun around. The guy in the Ooze costume stood right behind us.

  “Hey, kiddo,” he rasped, leaning close.

  “Wow,” I muttered. “How do you get your costume to give off heat like that? It’s like standing in front of an oven!”

  “Too hot for you, kid?” he rumbled. “Then listen to me. I really think you should change your mind about selling that book.”

  Gabriella and I exchanged glances.

  The Ooze guy gazed around the convention hall. “You won’t always be in a big crowd,” he muttered. “And I have lots of ways to persuade you. Know what I mean?”

  “Oh, wow.” My legs started to tremble. I felt a chill of fear run down my whole body.

  Was he threatening me?

  “That guy in the big black costume tried to scare me,” I told Gabriella. We were sitting near the front of the crowded bus. People jammed the aisle. A man standing over me kept poking me with his umbrella.

  “I heard him. He was just doing his job,” Gabriella said. “He was supposed to act tough to everybody. You know. Put on a show.”

  “But he stood so close, I smell like tar!” I cried.

  Gabriella laughed. “Actually, he was pretty funny.”

  The man’s umbrella jabbed my knee. The bus stopped, and more people crushed into the aisle. Rain pattered the window behind Gabriella and me.

  “I think the Ooze guy was serious,” I said. “He and that guy Sammy who works for him really wanted my book.”

  “Did they say they’d buy it from you?” Gabriella asked.

  I nodded. “Sammy said he’d pay three hundred dollars.”

  Gabriella blew out a whoosh of air. “Wow, Marco. That’s a ton of money. You could buy that new game system you want!”

  “I know,” I said, “but —”

  “Three hundred dollars for a comic book you got for free!”

  “I know,” I repeated. “But … maybe I want to keep it for my collection.”

  And maybe I wanted to keep it to try more superpower experiments.

  I didn’t say that to Gabriella.

  The bus jerked to a halt. People staggered and stumbled. The aisle cleared a little as people climbed off.

  And I saw something at the back of the bus that made me gasp.

  I grabbed Gabriella’s sleeve. “Look.” I pointed to the backseat.

  “What’s your problem?” Gabriella said. Then she saw him, too.

  The guy in the Ooze costume.

  He spread out over the entire back of the bus. There was room for four or five people across the back. But he took up the whole row!

  I felt a stab of panic in my chest. “He’s following us!” I cried.

  Gabriella bit her bottom lip. “Maybe.”

  “We’ll know if he gets off when we do,” I said. “He’s going to follow me to my house — isn’t he. He’s going to force me to give him the book.”

  “He — he can’t do that!” Gabriella stammered. She was trying to sound brave. But I could tell she was as frightened as I was.

  “Look. He’s staring hard at us,” I said. “Sending us a message.”

  Gabriella stared back at him. “Maybe he finished work at the convention and he’s taking the bus home,” she said.

  I shook my head. “He’s following us. I know he is. Look at the way he’s staring at us. Not blinking or anything. With that ugly scowl on his face.”

  I jumped to my feet. “Let’s get off here.”

  “But this isn’t our stop!” Gabriella said.

  “We can walk from here,” I said. “It’s only a few more blocks.” I glanced to the back. The Ooze guy hadn’t moved.

  The bus squealed as it stopped. The door slid open. I squeezed past a large woman with two shopping bags and leaped out the front door.

  Rain pattered my head. My shoes slid on the wet sidewalk.

  I turned and saw Gabriella jump off the bus. We both jogged away from the bus stop.

  The bus doors closed. The bus pulled away from the curb.

  “No Ooze,” I said. I let out a sigh of relief. “He didn’t get off with us.”

  But as the bus rumbled away, I saw him in the back window. His sludgy face was pressed against the glass. And he was staring hard at us. His eyes locked on us until the bus moved out of view.

  “Weird,” Gabriella muttered. “He definitely was trying to frighten you.”

  I nodded. “Well, he’s pretty scary,” I said. I wiped raindrops off my face. “I wonder what he looks like when he takes off the mask and the costume.”

  “Forget about him,” Gabriella said. And then she added in a low growl, “Know what I mean?”

  We jogged to our houses, ducking our heads against the rain. By the time I got home, I was soaked.

  Mom and Dad were in the kitchen. They were both at the counter, chopping up vegetables for a salad.

  “How was the comic convention?” Mom asked.

  “Nice,” I said.

  She gazed up from her carrots. “You didn’t buy anything?”

  “No. Just looked,” I said.

  “You’re drenched,” Dad said. “And what’s that smell? You smell like tar!”

  “I … guess I stood too close to The Ooze,” I replied.

  “Go upstairs and get changed,” Mom said. “Your dad and I are going out in a bit. I’ll need you to watch Zeke.”

  “No problem,” I replied. I hurried up the stairs.

  I can do some superpower tests now, I decided.

  I still had a lot of chapters to go. I had come close the first two times. Maybe I could discover a special power inside myself.

  I stepped into my room. I pulled the wet T-shirt off and tossed it into a corner.

  Then I hurried over to my bed to pick up the book where I’d left it.

  Not there.

  “Hmmmm.” I pulled back the covers. Not there. But I knew that’s where I’d left it. Facedown at the bottom
of the bed.

  I checked my desk. My dresser. Looked on the floor beneath my bed. Searched my bookshelves.

  I opened the closet and frantically pulled up the piles of dirty clothes I’d tossed on the floor. No. Not there.

  Not anywhere.

  My head spun. My heart pounded.

  The book was GONE.

  I dropped down onto the edge of my bed and took a deep breath. I shut my eyes and tried to remember….

  Did I hide the book somewhere before I left for the comic convention? Did I put it away?

  No. I left it open on the bed. I remembered clearly.

  I opened my eyes — and heard a voice nearby. A cough. A soft chuckle.

  I walked to the bedroom door and peered into my brother’s room. There was Zeke, sitting cross-legged on the floor with the graphic novel in his lap.

  “Hey!” I shouted. I stomped into his room.

  He made a startled yelp. He raised his eyes for a second. Then lowered his head back to the book.

  “Keep your mitts off my stuff!” I shouted. I swiped the book out of his hands. “You’re too young for this!”

  “Wanna bet?” Zeke cried. He made a wild grab for the book.

  I swung it away from him.

  Zeke jumped to his feet. “I have superhero strength!” he exclaimed. He threw himself at me, wrapped his arms around my waist — and tried to wrestle me to the floor.

  “Let go! Let go of me!” I shouted.

  He made another grab for the book. I swung it behind my back.

  He pushed me down to the floor and climbed on top of my chest. “Superhero strength!” he shouted.

  “Wimp strength,” I said.

  He gave me a hard punch in the ribs. “Give it back to me, Marco. Give it!”

  “Stop it!” I screamed. “Get off me, you punk!”

  I turned and saw Mom in the doorway. She shook her head angrily at me.

  “Marco, stop it! No fighting with your little brother!” she snapped.

  I gasped. “Huh? Me?”

  “And stop calling him names,” Mom said.

  Zeke climbed off my chest and put on his pouty face. “He hurt me, Mommy!” he cried. He ran over to her and hugged her waist. “He really hurt me.”

  Total phony.

  “I mean it, Marco,” Mom said. “I’ve had enough.”

  “But — but — but —” I sputtered.

  “You’re grounded,” Mom said. “Now go make yourself useful. Go down to the laundry room. Take all the wet clothes from the washer and put them in the dryer. When they’re dry, I want you to fold them all neatly and put them away.”

  “But, Mom — that’s not fair,” I said. “That’s work!”

  “Do a good job and maybe you won’t be grounded for too long,” Mom said.

  “Yeah. Do a good job,” Zeke repeated. He stuck his tongue out at me.

  Mom went back downstairs. I muttered some bad words under my breath. But I didn’t say anything to Zeke. I didn’t want him to get me in any more trouble.

  Maybe he thought I’d forget about the book and leave it in his room. But I carried it to my room and closed the door behind me. I hid it under the pile of dirty clothes in my closet.

  Then I went down to the laundry room and pulled the wet clothes into the dryer. I hate wet clothes. They just feel so yucky.

  But I did the job as fast as I could because I was eager to get back to my room. Back to the Ooze book.

  A few minutes later, I had my door closed tight and the book spread out in front of me on the bed. I turned to the chapters in the back, and I began to read….

  Perhaps you are a water hero. It’s easy to find out. Fill your bathtub to the top with ice cubes and cold water. Then …

  “I’m f-f-freezing!” I stuttered.

  I was in the tub, up to my neck in icy water. My skin was red and tingly. Ice cubes bobbed and bumped against me.

  First I had the shivers. Then I had the DEEP shivers.

  “Th-this is crazy,” I moaned. My teeth started to chatter. “It’s n-not working.”

  Oh, wait.

  Yes, it was!

  The shaking and shivering and chattering suddenly stopped. Was it just because my whole body was totally numb?

  No. I felt different. I felt my body changing.

  I’m melting! I thought. I suddenly felt weak … soft … so light.

  I’m dissolving. I’m melting … changing into WATER!

  No skin. No bones. Just water.

  And then the weakness lifted. And I felt a surge of power. Like a bolt of electricity shooting through me.

  And I rose up in the bathtub. Like a wave. Like a mighty tidal wave. An amazing feeling!

  It lasted about ten seconds.

  I stretched high … higher … then splashed back down. And the cold water seeped over my shoulders. The ice cubes bobbed against my waist.

  I felt cold again. I felt FROZEN again! And I started to shake and shiver.

  I was trembling so hard, I could barely grip the sides of the tub. I tried to pull myself out. But my legs were frozen numb.

  “Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh.” A crazy sound kept repeating through my chattering teeth. “Uh-uh-uh-uh.”

  Finally, I lifted myself out of the tub. I couldn’t stand. I rolled onto the floor. I lay there on my back, shaking and groaning. I smacked my frozen hands together like a seal. I kicked my feet in the air.

  Numb. Everything was frozen numb. My hands and feet tingled with cold pain.

  Somehow I grabbed a bath towel off the towel rack. I struggled to wrap it around me.

  “I’ll n-never be warm,” I murmured. “N-never b-be warm again!”

  I wrapped another towel around me. Then I half stumbled, half crawled to my room.

  I pulled on three shirts, two sweaters, and my warmest sweatpants. I climbed under the covers.

  But I couldn’t stop the chills from running down my back. Couldn’t stop my body from trembling like I was in a powerful earthquake.

  I have to find out what I’m doing wrong, I decided. Why do the powers last only ten seconds?

  If I ever warm up enough so I can walk again, I have to go back to the comic convention. I have to talk to that guy Sammy. He seemed all right. Not like The Ooze. Maybe he can tell me what I’m doing wrong.

  I buried my frozen face in the pillow. Under the covers, I pulled myself into a tight ball. If only I could stop shaking and quaking!

  I glanced at the clock on my bed table. Four-thirty. Still early. Time enough to take the Ooze book to Sammy at the convention and see if he had any advice.

  A few minutes later, I started to feel more normal. My skin was still red and blotchy. But I had some feeling back in my hands and feet. I took off the two sweaters and two of the shirts. I changed into jeans. And I pulled on my sneakers.

  I grabbed the book and hurried downstairs. I found Mom in the den. “Mom, I have to go back to the comic convention,” I said. “I forgot to do something there.”

  Mom looked up from the magazine she was reading. “Sorry, Marco. You’re grounded, remember?”

  “But, Mom,” I pleaded. “It’s very important. Maybe you could unground me — just for the rest of the afternoon.”

  She shook her head. “No. Did you finish the laundry?”

  “Almost,” I said.

  Should I tell her the truth? That I need advice about getting superpowers?

  No. No way anyone would believe that.

  “Mom, a guy at the convention wants to give me three hundred dollars for this Ooze book.” I held it up. I was telling the truth. I just didn’t tell her that I had no plans to sell it.

  She lowered the magazine to her lap. “That’s a lot of money, Marco. Are you sure this man is honest?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Does that mean I can go?”

  “No,” Mom replied. “Remember? I told you that Dad and I have to go out. I need you to stay home and watch Zeke.”

  “But, Mom —”

  She gave me that hard st
are with her forehead wrinkled and her eyebrows pointing down to her nose. I knew that stare very well. It meant, Shut up, Marco, if you know what’s good for you.

  So I shut up.

  I made an unhappy face. I muttered a few more words under my breath. Then I tucked the book under my arm and slunk back upstairs to my room.

  A little while later, Mom and Dad said goodbye. And to take good care of Zeke.

  I heard the car back down the drive. Mom gave two short honks before she reached the street. It’s something she always does. I’m not sure why. Then she drove off with Dad.

  As soon as she was gone, Zeke came skipping into my room. “What do you want to do, Marco?” he asked. “Want to play a game?”

  I stared at him. And then I stared at the Ooze book.

  And suddenly, I knew what I wanted to do.

  I knew what I had to do.

  “Put on your shoes,” I said. “We’re going to the comic convention.”

  His mouth dropped open. “Huh?”

  “You said you wanted to go,” I told him. “Well, here’s your chance.”

  Zeke grinned. “Cool!” He started for his room. Then he stopped. “But Mom said —”

  “You can’t tell Mom,” I said. “It’s a secret. Can you keep a secret?”

  He crossed his heart with two fingers. “I promise.” He ran up the stairs two at a time.

  I knew he couldn’t be trusted. Zeke is a little snitch. But what choice did I have?

  My mission was clear. I had to rush to the convention before it closed. Show the book to Sammy. See what he had to say. And get back home with Zeke before Mom and Dad returned.

  Tense. Very tense. But it could be done.

  I pulled on my jacket. I tucked the book under my arm. “Zeke?” I shouted up the stairs. “Where are you? What’s taking so long?”

  “Can’t find one of my shoes,” he called.

  I groaned. I should just leave him here, I thought.

  But I couldn’t. Mom put me in charge. If I left him alone, Zeke would get in some kind of big trouble — just to make me look bad.

  I ran up to his room. He was pounding his fist into his pillow. Pound pound pound. That’s what he always does when he can’t find something. He’s such a jerk.