Revenge of the Invisible Boy Page 8

  I was halfway through the park when I heard the scrape of footsteps behind me. I turned. No one there.

  I continued walking. Still heard the footsteps, soft but steady. Close behind me.

  I stopped and turned again. I squinted into the gray light. No one behind me. No one on the path.

  I turned to walk again. And someone grabbed me by the shoulders.

  “Hey! Let go!” I cried. “Let go of me!”

  I spun around.

  There was no one there.

  Oh, yes there was.

  Of course. It had to be Marvin.

  Finally, I had help!

  “Frankie, it’s me.” The hands loosened on my shoulders.

  I stumbled back a step.

  “It’s me. Mystical Marvin,” he said. “I followed you from the theater.”

  “I knew it was you,” I said. “Where have you been?”

  “Here and there,” he said.

  We were alone in the park, two invisible people. “Make me normal again,” I said. “Please. Hurry. Make me normal, okay?”

  Silence for a long moment. Then he replied, “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean?” I cried. “You have to. You have to bring me back. You’re the only one—”

  “I can’t,” he said again. “I’m stuck, too, Frankie.”

  “But—but—!” I sputtered.

  “No,” he answered in a whisper. “I … I must have mixed the formula wrong. I thought I followed the sorcerer’s instructions. But I must have made it too strong or something. It worked a couple of times, and then it didn’t. I definitely made a mistake.”

  I suddenly had a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. As if I’d swallowed a bowling ball. “You really can’t help me?” I said, my voice cracking.

  “I can’t.”

  “But … how long will this last?” I demanded.

  Another long pause. I watched a squirrel run across the path. It hopped onto a park bench, rose up on its back legs, and appeared to be watching us. But, of course, it couldn’t be.

  “I don’t know how long it will last,” Mystical Marvin said finally. “Maybe a long time. Maybe forever.”

  In school the next day, no one knew I was there.

  That was fine with me. I didn’t feel like talking with anyone anyway. And since I was invisible, there wasn’t much I could do in class without freaking everyone out and causing a riot.

  At lunchtime, Melody, Eduardo, and Ari were huddled at a table at the back of the lunchroom. I was about to pull out a chair and let them know I was there with them.

  But then I realized they were talking about me and about our magic club. So I stood at the edge of the table and listened.

  “We can still have the club without Frankie,” Melody was saying. “It won’t be the same. But maybe we can find some new kids to join.”

  “Yeah. Fun,” Eduardo agreed.

  My friends want to forget about me and have the club without me?

  A stab of anger hurt my chest.

  Ari leaned over the table toward Melody and Eduardo across from him. “I have to tell you something I never told anyone,” he said in a low voice.

  “What’s that?” Melody asked.

  Ari had a strange grin on his face. A guilty grin. “Remember at the assembly when Frankie was doing the levitation trick? I deliberately dropped him. It wasn’t an accident.”

  Melody gasped. Eduardo just stared at him.

  “Ari—why?” Melody demanded.

  Ari shrugged. His grin grew wider. “I just thought it would be funnier.”

  Funnier?

  I waited for my friends to get angry. To tell Ari he couldn’t be in the club anymore.

  But Melody just said, “Ari, it wasn’t very funny.”

  And that was that. They started talking about other kids who might join the club. And they talked about new tricks they wanted to learn.

  I sat there staring at my friends, feeling my anger build.

  I knew Ari was a creep. But I really thought Eduardo and Melody would stand up for me.

  And I never dreamed they’d want to continue the magic club without me.

  Okay, I thought. Okay, I get it. I see what kind of friends you are.

  Let’s see how well you do when YOU disappear forever!

  Before the next magic club meeting, I sneaked down to Ari’s basement before my three friends arrived for their club meeting.

  Buster, Ari’s big dog, had been sleeping in a square of sunlight by the high window. But he sat up, alert, when I entered the rec room.

  “Hey, Buster,” I whispered. “You can sense that I’m here—can’t you?”

  The fur on his back stood on end. He lowered his head and made loud breathing sounds.

  I didn’t have any time to waste. I saw that Mrs. Goodwyn had already set the lemonade pitcher down on the table along with a tray of oatmeal cookies. There were three glasses beside the pitcher.

  I removed the little bottle of disappearing formula from my jacket pocket. And I poured a small amount of the yellow liquid into each glass. Then I filled the glasses with lemonade.

  All ready. A nice surprise for the three traitors.

  I paced back and forth as I waited for them to arrive. Was I excited? For sure. Finally, a little payback.

  A few minutes later, the three of them appeared. Eduardo carried his large magic kit. He set it down right in front of me.

  Ari was waving a magic wand. “I have some awesome new ideas for tricks,” he said.

  “Me too,” Melody said.

  They had no idea I was standing there watching them. Only Buster had a clue. Buster kept his eyes on me, as if he could see me.

  “Let’s eat first,” Eduardo said. “I’m hungry. I couldn’t eat that stuff they had for lunch this afternoon.”

  “Yeah. What was that?” Ari said. “It wasn’t real meat, was it?”

  “I think it was dog food!” Melody said.

  They turned to Buster. He kept his eyes on me. The dog paid no attention to them.

  They sat down at the table. My heart started to pound.

  Just a few seconds now, and they’ll have their surprise.

  My usual chair was empty. I carefully slid into it. I wanted to watch this close-up.

  Eduardo grabbed for a cookie. All three of them began to devour cookies.

  “Too bad about Frankie,” Eduardo said.

  “Yeah. Too bad,” Ari echoed. He reached for one of the lemonade glasses.

  That’s when Buster decided to move.

  The big dog jumped onto my chair. Actually, he leaped onto my lap.

  He knew. He knew I was there. Maybe he smelled me. I don’t know.

  But he went into his old routine. Licking my face with his fat tongue. Licking me. Furiously licking my face.

  I tried to push Buster off me. But I saw Melody’s expression change. And then all three of them let out startled shouts.

  “Frankie? You’re back!” Melody shouted.

  The big dog kept licking my face.

  “I—I can see you!” Eduardo cried.

  “Your face—!” Ari pointed.

  “Huh?” My brain spun in confusion. Could they really see me?

  I raised my right hand. Buster lowered his head and licked my hand.

  My hand instantly came back into view.

  “I don’t believe it!” I cried. “Buster is bringing me back! Dog saliva is the antidote. Dog saliva is the answer!”

  “My dog is a hero!” Ari proclaimed. “Yay for Buster!”

  “I’m back. I’m back.” I just kept repeating the words. I was so happy. I let Buster lick away.

  I was back. I didn’t need revenge anymore.

  I hugged the big dog as he licked my neck.

  “A toast to Buster!” Ari exclaimed. He raised his lemonade glass high. Melody and Eduardo raised their glasses, too. “To Buster!” they shouted.

  “No! Wait—!” I cried. “Wait! Please—!”

  “Cheers!”
Ari said.

  And I watched all three of them drink their glasses down and disappear.

  Hahaha. I know why Frankie didn’t try harder to save his friends. He wanted all the oatmeal cookies for himself!

  You know, it’s no fun performing tricks if your audience is invisible! The kids should forget about magic. Now they can have some really awesome hide-and-seek games! Hahahaha.

  Well, time for me to vanish. But I’ll reappear before you can say abracadabra, with another scary Goosebumps story.

  Remember, this is SlappyWorld.

  You only scream in it!

  Welcome to SlappyWorld.

  Yes, it’s Slappy’s world—you’re only screaming in it! Hahaha!

  I’m in a good mood today. That’s because I looked in a mirror! My reflection is almost as good-looking as I am!

  I know this book is going to be awesome. That’s because it’s about ME! Hahaha!

  I’m so brilliant, I’m the only one on earth who can outsmart myself!

  Do you know how smart I am? Of course you don’t! How could you? Hahaha!

  I have powers, too. I can control people. Watch. I’m going to make you read the next sentence.

  THE NEXT SENTENCE.

  See how I did that?

  Our story today is about my diary. Why do I keep a diary? I like to read books about fabulous characters. And I love sharing my brilliant thoughts—with myself! Haha!

  The fun begins when a boy named Billy McGee and his sister, Maggie, find my diary. And when I say fun, of course I mean scream-out-loud scares!

  I call this story Diary of a Dummy.

  Go ahead and start screaming. It’s another one of my frightening tales from SlappyWorld.

  You’re probably asking, “Hey, Billy McGee, how did you get to be the new kid in this fancy middle school? And with a hole in your right sneaker, wearing your cousin Shawn’s ragtag old jersey with the stain on the front that won’t come out?”

  I know you’re saying, “Look at those guys you’re playing soccer with. Check out their designer jeans and NBA sneakers. Check out their cool haircuts. Bet their dads didn’t cut their hair in the bathroom with an old pair of scissors.”

  Go ahead and make comments. I know I look a little different from them. Maybe my dad doesn’t give the best haircut in the world.

  But, you know, we’re just trying to save up some money. And everyone has been really nice to me since I started here at Middlebury Middle School last week. (We call it Middle Middle.)

  The kids I’ve met don’t care if I wear the newest sneakers or if my red hair is long and wild. Or if my cousin’s old clothes are a few sizes too big for me. (My dad says I’ll grow into them.)

  But when you’re in the middle of sixth grade and you move to a new school, you feel like an outsider no matter what. I mean, these guys here on the soccer field with me have known each other forever.

  My sister, Maggie, and I are the only new students at Middlebury this year, and we don’t know anybody. But we’re making friends.

  “Hey, look out!” I tried to kick the ball to Damien, who’s on my team. But my foot slid right over the ball and I flew headfirst to the grass.

  “Unnnnh.” I heard everyone laughing as the breath whooshed out of my body.

  “Glad you think it’s funny,” I choked out.

  Damien helped me to my feet. “Billy, have you ever played this game before?” he asked.

  That gave everyone another laugh.

  “We didn’t have grass at my old school,” I said. “We were tough. We played on dirt.”

  “That explains it,” the kid named Ramone said. I’m pretty sure he was being sarcastic.

  We started the game again. It went okay till I misjudged a kick, and the ball went sailing off the field, across the street.

  “Don’t know my own strength,” I said, trying to cover up my embarrassment.

  Damien patted me on the back. “Bet you’re good at other sports,” he said.

  “Not really,” I confessed.

  See? These guys are really nice. No one seems to care that I don’t exactly fit in here.

  So how did Maggie and I get to Middlebury Middle?

  Well, it’s kind of a long story.

  Here’s the short version. My mom died and my dad lost his job. We couldn’t afford our house. It was big, and it came with big bills. The three of us were miserable and depressed.

  Someone told my dad about a fixer-upper house here in Middlebury. A “fixer-upper” means a falling-down wreck. And so we really had no choice. We moved. As soon as Dad saves up some money, he’ll start fixing it.

  Maggie is in fourth grade, and she’s a lot better with new people than I am. I mean, she’s not shy at all. She’s funny and fun and very peppy, and kids always like her right away.

  It takes me a little longer. I haven’t been sleeping well, and I think a lot about Mom. But as I said, the kids here have been okay.

  Oh no.

  I glanced down the street and my stomach tightened with dread.

  Cold dread. It’s the one thing I’d been worried about since I started here.

  And it was coming toward us fast. And it was going to pass right by our soccer field.

  And I knew there was nothing I could do about it.

  I took off running, kicked the ball to Ramone, and shouted, “Let’s go! Go!”

  I was hoping to keep them from seeing what was rolling down the street. But, no way.

  They were all staring along with me as the bright red-and-blue truck, pulling a huge blue trash dumpster, rolled by the soccer field. And they all read the tall yellow words painted on the truck door: DUMPSTER DAVE.

  And then … yes … yes … no way to stop it … no way to keep it from everyone. My dad was at the wheel of the truck. Everyone watched him stop at the curb, the dumpster squealing behind him. And they all saw him wave to me.

  “Hey, Billy, how’s it going?” Dad shouted.

  And then my new friends all knew. Dumpster Dave was my dad.

  My dad took a job hauling trash to the Middlebury town dump. The job was one of the reasons we moved here.

  I knew my face was bright red as I waved back to Dad. I shouldn’t have been embarrassed. I knew I shouldn’t have. But I was.

  The dumpster squealed again as Dad started the truck up and pulled away from the curb. The guys watched it rumble away. Then they all turned to me.

  “Your dad is Dumpster Dave?” Damien asked.

  I nodded. I tried to make a joke. “The job really stinks.”

  They all laughed, but it was kind of phony laughing.

  Damien had a twisted grin on his face. He jabbed me in the belly with his fist. “You know what that means?” he asked.

  “No. What?”

  “It means you’re Dumpster Billy.”

  That wasn’t funny at all. But everyone laughed like it was the best joke ever. And then a few guys kept repeating it. “Dumpster Billy. Dumpster Billy.”

  Well, I can survive this, I thought.

  I didn’t know just how bad things were going to get.

  R.L. Stine says he gets to scare people all over the world. So far, his books have sold more than 400 million copies, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. The Goosebumps series has more than 150 titles and has inspired a TV series and two motion pictures. R.L. himself is a character in the movies! He has also written the teen series Fear Street, and the Mostly Ghostly and Nightmare Room series. He is currently writing a series of graphic novels entitled Just Beyond. R.L. Stine lives in New York City with his wife, Jane, an editor and publisher. You can learn more about him at rlstine.com

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