How I Got My Shrunken Head Page 5

  “Yes!” I cried out loud. “Yes!”

  I knew that it would. I knew I could find her now.

  I was no longer afraid of the jungle and its creatures. No longer afraid of anything that might await me in this hot, tangled jungle.

  I had Jungle Magic.

  I had it — and I knew how to use it.

  And now I had to find Aunt Benna.

  A red morning sun rose over the treetops. The air was already hot and damp. Birds chirped and twittered on the tree limbs above me.

  Holding the flashlight in one hand and the shrunken head in the other, I started to run toward the sun.

  I’m going east, I told myself. The sun comes up in the east.

  Was it the right direction to find my aunt?

  Yes. I was sure it was right. The Jungle Magic will lead me, I decided. I just need to follow it, and it will take me to Aunt Benna, wherever she is hiding on this island.

  I ran over fat, leafy vines and low shrubs. I ducked under smooth white tree branches. Broad leaves of huge green ferns slapped at me as I ran through them.

  The sun beamed down on my face as I made my way through a wide, sandy clearing. Sweat dripped down my forehead.

  “Hey!” I cried out as my feet slipped on the soft sand.

  My feet slid. I lost my balance. My hands shot out. The flashlight and the shrunken head flew onto the sand.

  “Hey!”

  I started to sink.

  Sand rolled up over my ankles. Up my legs.

  I kicked. I waved my arms wildly.

  I pulled up my knees. Tried to step out of the deep sand.

  But I was sinking, sinking faster now.

  Sand up to my waist.

  The more I struggled, the faster I sank.

  Deeper, deeper. Down into the pit of sand.

  17

  I couldn’t move my legs. I had sunk too deep in the hot, wet sand.

  The sand crept up over my waist.

  There’s no bottom, I thought. I’m going to keep sinking. I’m going to sink down, down until it covers my head. Until I disappear forever.

  My friends Eric and Joel once told me that there is no such thing as quicksand. I wished they were here right now. I could show them how wrong they were!

  I opened my mouth to shout for help. But I was too panicked to make a sound. Only a tiny squeak came out.

  What good is shouting? I asked myself.

  There’s no one around for miles. No one who will hear me.

  The sand felt thick and heavy as I slid down, down deeper into it. I stretched both hands up over my head, my hands grasping, as if trying to grab on to something.

  I tried moving my legs. Tried to pump them, like treading water or pedaling a bike.

  But the sand was too heavy. I was in too deep.

  My chest heaved with terror now. I gasped in breath after breath.

  I opened my mouth once again to call for help.

  And had an idea.

  “Kah-lee-ah!” I screamed, my voice high and frightened.

  “Kah-lee-ah! Kah-lee-ah!”

  Nothing happened.

  18

  “Kah-lee-ah! Kah-lee-ah!”

  I screeched the word at the top of my lungs. But I continued to sink deeper, deeper into the wet, marshy pit of sand.

  “Kah-lee-ah!”

  No. Nothing.

  I waved my arms over my head. And stared up at the pale blue sky. At the trees at the edge of the clearing.

  Nothing but trees as far as I could see.

  No one around. No one to help me.

  “Oh!” I suddenly realized why the magic word wasn’t working. I didn’t have the shrunken head. The head had flown from my hand when I fell into the sandpit.

  Where was it? Where?

  Did it sink into the sand?

  My eyes frantically searched the yellow-brown surface. The wet sand bubbled all around me, making a pock-pock-pock sound. Like a thick soup.

  I sank deeper.

  And saw the shrunken head.

  It lay on the surface. Its black eyes stared up at the sky. Its hair was tangled beneath it, spread over the sand.

  With an excited cry, I stretched out both hands and tried to grab it.

  No. Too far away. Just out of my reach. Inches out of my reach.

  “Unnnnh.” I uttered a low grunt as I struggled to grab it. Stretched out my hands. Stretched. Stretched.

  I leaned forward into the sand. Leaned and stretched.

  And grabbed for it. Grabbed for it, curling my fingers. Groaning and grunting. Reaching. Reaching across the wet sand.

  But no.

  I couldn’t get it. The head lay a foot from my fingertips.

  A foot that seemed a mile.

  No way. No way.

  My fingers grabbed only air. I couldn’t reach it.

  I knew I was doomed.

  My hands dropped heavily onto the wet sand. I let out a defeated sigh.

  19

  My hands made a loud slapping sound as they hit the sand.

  And the head bounced.

  “Huh?” I uttered a startled cry. My heart started to pound.

  I slapped the surface of the wet sand again with both palms.

  The head bounced. Closer.

  Another hard slap. Another bounce.

  The head lay only a few inches away now.

  I grabbed it, held it tightly — and joyfully shouted out the word. “Kah-lee-ah! Kah-lee-ah!”

  At first, nothing happened.

  My breath caught in my throat. I froze.

  “Kah-lee-ah! Kah-lee-ah!”

  I expected to fly up. To be lifted out of the sandpit. To float magically over to hard ground.

  “Jungle Magic — please work! Please work!” I cried out loud.

  But I didn’t move. I sank a little deeper. The sand crept up over my chest.

  I stared at the shrunken head in my hand. The black eyes appeared to stare back at me.

  “Help me!” I cried. “Why aren’t you helping me?”

  And then I saw the vines.

  Yellow-green vines creeping over the sandpit. Moving like long snakes. A dozen twisting, crawling vines, slithering toward me from all directions.

  My heart pounded as I watched the vines slither closer. Closer. Until I reached out with my free hand and grabbed for the end of one.

  But the vine swept past my hand, moving quickly with surprising force. It wrapped itself around my chest — and started to tighten.

  “No!” I uttered a cry of protest. Was it going to strangle me?

  Another vine dipped into the sand. I felt it curl around my waist.

  “No — stop!” I wailed.

  The vines tightened around me. And then they began to pull.

  The wet sand made a thwock sound as I started to move through it.

  Holding the shrunken head in the air, I let the vines tug me through the sand. They pulled hard and fast. The sand flew at my sides.

  A few seconds later, the vines tugged me, on my knees, onto hard ground. I let out a happy cry. The vines instantly let go. I watched them pull back, curling quickly into the tall weeds.

  I hunched there, struggling to catch my breath, watching until the vines slithered out of sight. Then I pulled myself to my feet.

  My legs felt shaky and weak. My whole body trembled from my close call.

  But I didn’t care. I felt like jumping up and clapping and shouting for joy. The Jungle Magic had worked. The Jungle Magic had saved me once again!

  The wet sand clung to my jeans, my shirt, my arms — even my hair! I shook myself furiously. I tucked the shrunken head into my shirt pocket. Then I began slapping at my clothes, brushing off chunks of sand.

  Now what? I asked myself, glancing quickly around. The sun had risen high in the sky. The trees and ferns and tall grass gleamed, a shimmering blur of green and gold. The air had grown hot. My shirt clung wetly to my back.

  Now what?

  How do I find Aunt Benna?


  I pulled the shrunken head from my pocket and held it in front of me. “Lead the way,” I ordered it.

  Nothing happened.

  I brushed chunks of sand off its leathery skin. I pried sand from between its thin black lips.

  I turned toward the sun and took a few steps. Was I still walking east?

  To my surprise, the dark eyes on the shrunken head suddenly started to glow.

  What did that mean? Did that mean I was getting close to Aunt Benna? Did it mean I was walking in the right direction?

  I decided to test it.

  I spun around and started walking back toward the sandpit.

  The eyes on the head instantly dimmed back to black.

  I turned and started walking north.

  The eyes remained dark.

  I turned back in the direction of the sun.

  Yes! The eyes began to glow again. “Kah-lee-ah!” I cried happily. The head was guiding me to my aunt.

  Animals howled and insects chittered loudly as I made my way through the trees and tall weeds. It all sounded like music to me now.

  “Aunt Benna, here I come!” I cheered.

  I found myself walking deeper into the jungle. I had to keep ducking my head to avoid low branches and thick vines that stretched from tree to tree.

  I heard weird bird calls overhead. As if the birds were talking to each other. As I ducked under a low limb, the whole tree seemed to shake. And a thousand blackbirds leaped off the branches, cawing angrily, so many of them they darkened the sky as they flapped away.

  I suddenly came to a small clearing that forked into two branches, one to the left, one to the right. Which way should I go?

  I held the shrunken head in front of me, watching it carefully. I started to the left.

  The eyes grew dark. Wrong way.

  I turned and started to the right, watching the eyes begin to glow again.

  Was Aunt Benna hiding somewhere in these trees? Was I getting close?

  The trees ended suddenly again, and I found myself in a grassy clearing. I squinted in the bright sunlight, my eyes sweeping over the shimmering green grass.

  A low growl made me spin back toward the trees.

  “Oh!” I let out a sharp cry as I saw the tiger. My legs nearly crumpled under me.

  The tiger raised its head in another growl. An angry growl. It pulled back its lips, baring enormous teeth. It arched its back, its yellow-brown fur standing straight on end.

  Then with a furious hiss it came charging at me.

  20

  The tiger’s huge paws pounded over the grass. Its yellow eyes burned into mine.

  I glimpsed two little cubs behind it, nestled in the shade of a tree.

  “I’m not going to hurt your cubs!” I wanted to cry.

  But of course there was no time.

  The tiger let out a furious roar as it charged.

  The roar drowned out my cry as I raised the shrunken head in front of me in a trembling hand. “Kah-lee-ah!”

  My voice came out in a whimper.

  I nearly dropped the head. My knees collapsed. I sank to the grass.

  The tiger closed in for the kill. Its heavy paws thudded the dirt as it leaped toward me.

  The ground felt as if it were shaking.

  The ground was shaking!

  To my horror, I heard a deafening ripping sound. Like Velcro being torn apart. Only a thousand times louder.

  I let out a cry as the ground trembled. Shook.

  Split apart.

  The grass tore away. The dirt split in two.

  The earth opened up.

  And I started to fall. Down into an endless hole in the earth.

  Down, down.

  Screaming all the way.

  21

  “Owww!”

  I landed hard on my elbows and knees. Pain shot through my body. I actually saw stars! Hundreds of them, all red and yellow.

  Trying to blink them away, I raised myself to my knees.

  The shrunken head had bounced out of my hand. I spotted it a few feet away in the dirt. I dove for it, grabbed it up in my shaking hand, and held on to it tightly.

  I felt dizzy and shaken. I closed my eyes and waited for the dizziness to pass.

  When I opened them, I realized I had fallen into a deep pit. Walls of dirt surrounded me. The blue sky was a small square high above my head.

  Jungle Magic had saved me once again. The magic had caused the ground to split open so that I could fall to safety. So that I could escape the tiger.

  I heard a low growl above me.

  With a frightened cry, I gazed up to the top of the pit. And saw two yellow eyes glaring down at me.

  The tiger snarled, baring its teeth.

  I didn’t escape, I realized.

  I’m trapped down here. If the tiger leaps down into the pit, it will finish me off in seconds.

  I have nowhere to run. No way to escape.

  I fell back against the wall of dirt. I stared up at the snarling tiger. It eyed me hungrily, roaring again. Preparing to leap to the attack.

  “Kah-lee-ah!” I cried. “Kah-lee-ah!”

  The tiger roared in reply.

  I pressed my back against the dirt. Tried to stop my whole body from shaking.

  Please don’t come down here! I begged silently. Please don’t jump down into this pit!

  The yellow eyes glowed in the sunlight. The silvery whiskers twitched as the tiger snarled its toothy warning.

  And then I saw a little yellow-and-black cat face appear at the top of the pit. One of the tiger cubs. It peered down at me over the edge of the grass.

  The other cub popped up beside it. It leaned over the pit edge. Leaned so far, it nearly fell in!

  The tiger moved quickly. It lowered its head — and bumped the cub away from the edge. Then it picked up the other cub in its teeth and carried it away.

  I swallowed hard. I didn’t move. My back pressed against the cool dirt, I stared up to the top. Watched the square of blue sky. And waited for the tiger to return.

  Waited.

  And waited. Holding my breath.

  Silence now. So silent I could hear the wind rushing through the tall grass.

  A chunk of dirt broke off the pit wall and toppled to the bottom, crumbling as it landed. I kept my gaze on the opening, listening hard, watching for the tiger.

  After what seemed like hours, I let out a long whoosh of air. I stepped away from the dirt wall and stretched.

  The tiger isn’t coming back, I decided.

  It only wanted to protect its cubs from me. By now, it has taken them away. Far away.

  I stretched again. My heart was still thumping hard in my chest. But I was starting to feel a little more normal.

  How do I get out of here? I wondered, gazing at the steep dirt walls. Can I climb out?

  I tucked the shrunken head back into my pocket. Then I dug both hands into the soft, cool dirt and tried to climb.

  I pulled myself up about a foot or two. But then the dirt broke off under my sneakers. It crumbled and fell, sending me sliding back to the bottom.

  No. No way. I can’t climb out, I realized.

  I reached for the shrunken head. I’ll have to use Jungle Magic, I decided.

  The magic got me down here. Now I can use it to get me out.

  I raised the head in front of me. But before I could call out the word, darkness fell over the pit.

  Is the sun setting already? I wondered.

  I gazed up to the top.

  No. It wasn’t evening. The square of sky that I could see was still bright blue.

  Someone stood up there, blocking the sunlight.

  The tiger?

  A human?

  I squinted hard, struggling to see.

  “Who — who’s there?” I called.

  22

  A face leaned over the edge, peering down at me. Squinting into the bright sunlight, I saw straight blond hair. Pale blue eyes.

  “Kareen!” I shouted.

 
She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Mark — what are you doing down there?”

  “What are you doing here?” I cried.

  Her hair fell over her face. She brushed it back. “I — I followed you. I was so worried about you!”

  “Get me out of here!” I shouted up to her. I tried climbing again. But the dirt slid out from under my sneakers.

  “How?” she called down.

  “I guess you didn’t bring a ladder with you?” I shouted.

  “Uh — no, Mark,” Kareen sniped.

  I guess she doesn’t have much of a sense of humor.

  “Maybe I could drop a rope down or something,” she suggested.

  “Rope isn’t too easy to find in the middle of the jungle,” I reminded her.

  She shook her head. Her face tightened into a fretful frown.

  “How about a vine?” I called up. “See if you can find a long vine. I could climb up a vine.”

  Her expression brightened. She disappeared. I waited impatiently. And waited. “Please hurry,” I murmured out loud, my eyes on the square opening at the top. “Please hurry.”

  I heard the squawk of birds somewhere up above. Fluttering wings. More squawking and cawing.

  Are the birds frightened? I wondered. If they are, why? Has the tiger returned?

  I pressed against the dirt wall, watching the sky.

  Finally, Kareen reappeared. “I found a vine. But I don’t know if it’s long enough.”

  “Lower it over the side,” I instructed her. “Quick. I have to get out of here. I feel like a trapped animal.”

  “It was hard to pull it out of the ground,” she complained. She began lowering the vine. It looked like a long snake twining down the side of the pit.

  It stopped a few feet above my head. “I’m going to jump up and grab it,” I told Kareen. “Then I’ll try to climb while you pull. Wrap the other end around your waist, okay? Just don’t let go of it!”

  “Just don’t pull me down with you!” she called back.

  I waited for her to tie the vine around herself. Then I bent my knees and jumped. I missed the end of the vine by a few inches.

  This was one of those times I wished I were tall and thin instead of short and chubby.

  But I grabbed the vine on my third try. I wrapped both hands around it.

  Then I pressed the soles of my sneakers against the dirt wall. And started to pull myself up, like a mountain climber.