The Abominable Snowman of Pasadena Page 7

  “Oh, no!” Lauren shrieked. “What have I done?”

  My sister was a statue. A frozen, snow-covered statue.

  “Nicole, I’m so sorry,” Lauren cried. “Can you hear me? I’m so sorry!”

  “Let’s take her inside,” I suggested frantically. “If we get her in the warm house, maybe we can warm her up.”

  Lauren grabbed one of Nicole’s arms. I grabbed the other. We carefully dragged her stiff body to the house. Her bare toes, hard as ice, left a long trail in the snow.

  “She’s so freezing!” Lauren cried. “How can we melt the snow?”

  “Let’s put her next to the oven,” I said. “Maybe if we turn it up full blast, the snow will melt.”

  We stood her in front of the oven. For good measure, I turned on all the burners on top of the stove.

  “That ought to do it,” I said. A bead of sweat trickled down my face. From the heat — or from worry?

  Lauren and I watched and waited.

  Watched and waited.

  I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe.

  The snow didn’t melt.

  “It’s not working,” Lauren groaned. “Nothing’s happening.”

  I tapped Nicole’s arm. Solid ice.

  I tried to stay calm. But I felt as if a hundred butterflies were tap dancing in my stomach. “All right, it’s not working. We’ll have to try something else. Something else …”

  Tears rolled down Lauren’s cheeks. “Like what?” Lauren demanded in a trembling voice.

  “Well …” I racked my brain for the hottest place I could think of. “The furnace! We’ll hold her in front of the furnace.”

  We dragged Nicole into the furnace shed behind the garage. The snow seemed to weigh a ton. It took all our strength to drag her.

  I turned the furnace on full blast. Lauren stood Nicole in front of the open furnace door.

  A blast of hot air sent Lauren and me staggering back. “If this doesn’t work, nothing will,” Lauren sobbed.

  The heat roared out of the furnace. I saw reflections of the red flames on Nicole’s icy face.

  My heart pounding, I watched to see the ice start to drip and the snow slide off her.

  But the ice didn’t melt. My sister remained a human snow cone.

  “Jordan — what are we going to do?” Lauren wailed.

  I shook my head, thinking hard. “The furnace isn’t working. What else is hot?” I was too scared to think clearly.

  “Don’t worry, Nicole,” Lauren told my frozen sister. “We’ll get you out of this — somehow.”

  I suddenly remembered how warm the Abominable Snowman had felt when he carried us across the Alaskan tundra. There we were, ten degrees below zero, surrounded by deep snow, and heat had poured off the creature’s body.

  “Come on, Lauren,” I ordered. “We’re taking her to the darkroom.”

  Struggling and straining, we dragged Nicole back outside and across the backyard to the darkroom.

  “Stay here,” I told Lauren. “I’ll be right back.”

  I raced into the kitchen. I pulled open all the cupboards and drawers, desperately searching for one thing — trail mix.

  Please, please let there be trail mix somewhere in this house! I prayed.

  “Yes!” I found a plastic bag of trail mix behind an old box of spaghetti. I grabbed it and flew back to the darkroom.

  Lauren stared at the bag in my hand. “What’s that?”

  “Trail mix.”

  “Trail mix? Jordan, can’t you wait to eat later?”

  “It’s not for me — it’s for him.” I motioned at the trunk.

  “What?”

  I unlatched the trunk and pulled it open. The Abominable Snowman lay inside as before, frozen in the block of ice.

  I grabbed a handful of trail mix and waved it above the snowman’s face. “Wake up!” I begged. “Please wake up! Look — I brought you some trail mix!”

  “Jordan — have you totally lost it?” Lauren screeched. “What on earth are you doing?”

  “I can’t think of any other way to save Nicole!” I cried.

  My hand trembled as I frantically waved the trail mix over the snowman. “Come on! You know you love trail mix. Wake up! Please wake up! Come out and help us.”

  I leaned over, staring hard at the monster’s eyes. Watching for him to blink. Watching for any signs of life.

  But the eyes didn’t move. The creature stared lifelessly up through the block of ice.

  I refused to give up.

  “Yum, yum!” I shouted, my voice high and wild. “Trail mix! Boy, is that good!” I popped a few raisins into my mouth and chewed. “Mmm-mm! Delicious trail mix. So good! So tasty! Come on — wake up and try some!”

  “He’s not moving!” Lauren sobbed. “Give up, Jordan. It isn’t going to work.”

  I jumped when I heard a soft sound. A faint crick.

  I stared down at the block of ice.

  Did the monster move?

  No. Silence now. The Abominable Snowman’s black eyes glittered up at me, lifeless and blank.

  Was it my imagination?

  Lauren is right, I thought sadly. My plan isn’t working.

  Nothing is working.

  I gently touched my sister’s stiff, frozen arm. Maybe when Dad gets home, I hoped. Maybe he’ll think of some way to save her.

  “What are we going to dooooo?” Lauren sobbed. She was no help at all.

  Crack.

  I heard it again — louder this time.

  And then: Crrraaaaaccckkkk!

  A long crack ripped across the ice.

  The Abominable Snowman groaned.

  Lauren leaped back with a wild scream. “It’s alive!”

  The ice broke up. The furry snowman slowly pulled himself up, moaning.

  Lauren cried out in fear. She pressed herself against the darkroom wall. “What’s he going to do?”

  “Shhh!”

  The monster shook shards of broken ice from his shoulders. He lifted himself out of the trunk. He uttered a low growl.

  “Jordan, look out!” Lauren cried.

  The monster lurched toward me. My heart jumped. I wanted to back away — or run away. But I couldn’t. I had to stay and help Nicole.

  “Unh!” the snowman grunted. He swiped a giant paw at me.

  Lauren let out another shrill scream.

  I leaped back. What would the monster do?

  “Unh!” the monster cried again. He took another swipe.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Lauren shouted. “He’s going to hurt you!”

  I wanted to run. But Nicole …

  The monster swiped at me again — and snatched the bag of trail mix out of my hands.

  I suddenly realized that was all he wanted. He had been grabbing for the trail mix.

  He poured the trail mix into his mouth, gulping it down, swallowing it noisily. Then he tossed the bag away.

  Lauren pressed her back against the corner of the darkroom. “Make him go back into the trunk!” she cried.

  “Are you crazy? How can I do that?”

  The snowman growled and staggered across the floor.

  His heavy footsteps shook the floor. He stopped in front of Nicole.

  He reached his powerful arms around her snow-covered body — and squeezed.

  “Stop him!” Lauren screamed. “He’s crushing her!”

  I couldn’t move. I stared in horror.

  The big creature hugged Nicole hard — so hard that he lifted her off the ground.

  “Stop!” I finally choked out. “You’re hurting her!”

  Without thinking of the danger, I dove forward. I grabbed his furry arms with both hands — and struggled to pull him off my sister.

  With an angry grunt, he brushed me away.

  I stumbled back — and fell into Lauren.

  I turned to see the monster squeezing Nicole.

  Lauren pointed down at the floor. “Jordan — look!”

  Gazing down, I saw a small puddle und
er Nicole’s feet. Water dripped off her and onto the floor. As it hit the floor, it evaporated. Vanished from sight.

  Did I see Nicole’s toes wiggle?

  Yes!

  I stepped closer. Caught a glimpse of her face.

  A dot of pink appeared on her cheeks.

  Yes!

  Chunks of snow dropped off her body. They thudded to the floor, melted, and disappeared.

  I turned to Lauren. “It’s working!” I cried happily. “He’s defrosting her!”

  A trembling smile crossed Lauren’s worried face.

  A few seconds later, the snowman let Nicole go. The ice and snow had all melted and disappeared. The snowman gave a satisfied grunt and stepped back.

  Nicole moved her arms stiffly. She rubbed her face, as if she were waking up.

  “Nicole!” I cried, grabbing her by the shoulders. Warm. Her shoulders were warm. “Are you okay?”

  She shook her head, dazed. “What happened?”

  Lauren ran up to Nicole and threw her arms around her. “You were frozen!” she said. “Frozen like a snowman! But thank goodness — you’re all right!”

  I turned to see the snowman watching us.

  “Thank you,” I called to him.

  I don’t know if he understood me. He grunted.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Lauren urged. “I’m freezing!”

  “Maybe the sun will warm you up,” I told her.

  We opened the darkroom door and stepped outside. The sun still beamed down. The air felt sweltering hot. But the whole yard was covered in snow.

  “Oh, yeah,” Lauren murmured. “I forgot about that.”

  “Hey!” I cried out when I saw the Abominable Snowman leap out of the darkroom. “He’s escaping!” I shrieked.

  “Dad will kill us!” Nicole cried.

  All three of us started shouting at the creature.

  He ignored our cries and thudded heavily across the snow. His black eyes narrowed on the snow-covered tree. He stepped up to the tree. Threw his arms around it. And hugged it tightly, just like when he had hugged Nicole.

  I watched as the snow began to melt. The blanket of white slipped down, down, shrinking away — until the tree stood green and golden again under the sunlight.

  “Wow!” I uttered, hands pressed against my face.

  But the big, furry creature had more surprises in store.

  With a loud grunt, he dropped to the snowy ground. As we stared in surprise, he began to roll in the snow.

  The snow appeared to stick to his fur. As he rolled, the snow vanished beneath him.

  Before long, the big creature was rolling on green grass. The last of the snow had vanished.

  He jumped to his feet. His eyes went wide, and he uttered a pained cry.

  “What’s the matter with him?” Lauren demanded.

  The Abominable Snowman gazed around, stunned, at the green grass, the palm trees. Then he raised his eyes to the blazing sun.

  He clutched his fur-covered head and let out a scream of terror.

  He seemed confused for a moment. Frightened. Then he let out a deep grunt — and took off down the street. His big paws thudded heavily over the pavement.

  I ran after him. “Wait! Come back!”

  He tore through someone’s yard and kept running.

  I gave up. No way I could catch him.

  Nicole and Lauren caught up to me. “Where’s he going?” Nicole demanded.

  “How should I know?” I snapped, struggling to catch my breath.

  “I think he’s looking for someplace cold,” Lauren said.

  Nicole agreed. “You’re probably right. He must be so hot. Pasadena is no place for an Abominable Snowman.”

  “He’ll probably find a cave in the mountains,” I said. “It’s a lot colder up there. I only hope he finds a way to get trail mix.”

  We trudged back to our yard. Green again. And hot. I knew that Nicole and I had one word in our minds — D-A-D.

  He had instructed us not to touch the trunk. We had ignored his warning.

  Now the snowman was gone. Dad’s big discovery. Dad’s big chance for fame.

  Gone. Gone forever.

  It was all our fault.

  “At least Dad has his photos,” I said softly. “The photos will amaze everyone all by themselves.”

  “I guess so,” Nicole replied, biting her bottom lip tensely.

  We walked back to the darkroom to close up the supply trunk. I glanced inside the trunk. Two magic snowballs were left.

  “Those things are dangerous. We’d better get rid of them,” Nicole warned.

  “I’m not touching them.” Lauren backed away.

  “You’re right,” I told my sister. “We should hide them somewhere. They’re too dangerous to keep around.”

  Nicole ran into the house and returned with a heavy-duty garbage bag. “Quick — stuff them in here.”

  I carefully scooped up each snowball and dropped it in the trash bag. Then I twisted the bag closed and knotted it tightly.

  “Now what?” Lauren asked.

  “We should blast them into outer space,” Nicole said. “If anyone gets hold of them and starts spreading snow around, we’ll be in big trouble. We need the Abominable Snowman to get rid of the snow — and he’s gone.”

  “Pasadena could turn into a ski resort!” I joked. “We could ice skate on Kyle and Kara’s swimming pool.”

  I shivered. I didn’t want to think about Kyle and Kara. And I didn’t want to think about snow. “We should bury the snowballs,” I told them. “But where?”

  “Not in my yard!” Lauren protested.

  I didn’t want to bury them in our yard, either. What would happen to them down there? Would they spread snow underground? Would snow spring up through the grass?

  We left the darkroom and scanned the area for good burial spots.

  “What about the empty lot?” Nicole suggested.

  Across the street, right next to Kyle and Kara Miller’s house, stood a vacant lot. There was nothing in it but piles of sand and a few empty bottles.

  “Perfect,” I declared. “No one will ever find the snowballs there.”

  Nicole hurried to the garage and grabbed a shovel. We crossed the street, glancing around to make sure no one saw us.

  “The coast is clear,” I said.

  I grabbed the shovel and dug a deep hole in the sand. It took longer than I thought. Sand kept falling back into the hole.

  Finally, the hole was deep enough.

  Nicole dropped the trash bag into the hole. “Good-bye, snowballs,” she said. “Good-bye, Alaska.”

  I covered the hole with sand. Lauren smoothed it out so you couldn’t tell the sand had been dug up.

  “Whew,” I groaned, wiping the sweat from my face. “I’m glad that’s over. Let’s go inside and cool off.”

  I put away the shovel. Then Nicole, Lauren, and I got ourselves some cold apple juice and collapsed in front of the TV.

  A short while later, we heard Dad’s car pull into the driveway.

  “Uh-oh,” Lauren gasped. “I think I’d better go home now. See you guys later.” She hurried out the back door. “Good luck!” she called. The door slammed behind her.

  I gave Nicole a nervous glance. “How angry will Dad be? He finds an amazing, rare creature, brings it home — we let it loose, and it runs away. That’s not so bad — is it?”

  Nicole shuddered. “Maybe if we tell him the whole story, he’ll be so glad we’re not hurt that he won’t be angry.”

  “Uh-huh. Yeah. Maybe.”

  The front door swung open. “Hey, kids!” Dad called. “I’m home! How’s our snowman doing?”

  We ate supper early that evening. Things were pretty quiet around the dinner table.

  “I’m glad you kids are safe and sound,” Dad said for the fifth time. “That’s what counts.”

  “Yeah,” Nicole said, chewing her pizza.

  “Uh-huh,” I added quietly. I usually had three slices. Tonight I could
barely manage one. And I left the crust on the plate.

  Poor Dad. He was trying so hard not to get upset about losing the Abominable Snowman. But Nicole and I knew how bad he felt.

  Dad dropped his half-eaten slice of pizza on his plate. “I’ll tell the Museum of Natural History that they’ll have to make do with the photographs.”

  “Photographs are better than nothing,” I said.

  “Better than nothing? Are you crazy?” Nicole cried. “Those pictures are going to amaze the whole world!”

  Dad perked up. “That’s true. I mentioned them to some TV producers. They went wild.”

  He stood and carried his plate to the sink. “I think I’ll go out to the darkroom and develop that film right now. These pictures are going to cheer me up. I mean, they’re historic. Historic!”

  I was glad to see Dad snap out of his disappointment. Nicole and I followed him, eager to see the photos.

  We sat quietly under the red light while Dad developed the negatives. At last he pulled the first set of contact sheets out of the chemical baths.

  Nicole and I leaned close to see the pictures.

  “Huh?” Dad uttered an astonished cry.

  Snow. Nothing but snow. Ten pictures of snow.

  “That’s strange,” Dad choked out. “I don’t remember taking those shots.”

  Nicole flashed me an evil stare. I knew what she was thinking.

  I held my hands up innocently. “I’m not playing any tricks. I swear!”

  “You’d better not be, Jordan,” Dad warned sternly. “I’m in no mood for kidding around.”

  Dad turned back to the chemical trays and developed another set of photos. As he pulled them up, dripping wet, we all squinted at them.

  More snow. Nothing but snow.

  “This can’t be happening!” Dad screamed. “The Abominable Snowman — he should be standing right there!” He pointed.

  His hands shook as he grabbed the rest of the negatives and held them up to the red light. “The tundra shots came out fine,” he declared. “The dogs, the sled, the elk herd — all there. All perfect. All of them. But the shots in the monster’s cave —”

  His voice trailed off. He shook his head sadly. “I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. How could this be? Not a single shot of the creature. Not one.”

  I sighed. I felt so bad for Dad. I felt so bad for all three of us.