As he tried to identify it, he felt something crawl up the back of his hand.
It slipped under his shirt cuff and crawled up his arm.
“Huh?”
He felt a soft, pinching sensation on his hand.
Something prickled his wrist.
What is it? What
is
it?
He couldn’t take it anymore. He ripped away the blindfold.
Gazed into the jar.
And then let out a horrified scream.
“Tarantulas?” Evan shrieked.
One of the hairy creatures clung to his arm underneath his shirtsleeve.
Another inched its way across the back of his hand.
“Don’t scream like that,” Kermit warned, his eyes locked on Evan’s arm.
“What kind of test is this?” Evan shrieked. “What are you trying to prove?”
Kermit didn’t look up from the crawling tarantulas. “Someone told me that
tarantulas won’t bite you,” he explained. “Unless they sense your fear.”
“Are you
kidding
me?” Evan cried. “Sense my
fear
?”
“Ssshhhh.” Kermit raised a finger to his lips. “Be very calm. Calm… calm…” He grinned at Evan. “This is an interesting experiment—isn’t it?”
“I’ll kill you!” Evan screamed. “I’ll
kill
you for this, Kermit! When
I’m finished with you, you’ll go ‘woffff woffff’ for the rest of your life!”
“Careful,” Kermit warned softly. “Your arm is shaking. Don’t let them see
your fear.”
Evan struggled to steady his arm. One tarantula prickled his wrist. Another
one stood on the back of his hand.
“Get these
off
!” Evan demanded in a frantic whisper. “I’m warning you—HEEEEY!”
Evan felt a hard bump from behind.
Dogface again!
Startled, Evan’s hands shot up—and two tarantulas went flying.
One landed with a soft
THUD
on the lab table.
The other landed on Evan’s head.
Evan gasped. He felt eight pointy tarantula legs scrambling through his hair.
“Don’t upset it,” Kermit instructed. “Be very calm. Don’t let it know you’re
afraid. A tarantula bite can be very painful.”
“Hey, guys—what’s going on down there?” Aunt Dee’s voice rang through the
basement.
“Evan is playing with my tarantulas,” Kermit reported.
Playing?
Evan wanted to scream. He pictured Kermit eating a tarantula sandwich.
No. That’s not a good enough punishment, he decided.
“Well, it’s too nice a day to stay down in the basement playing with
spiders,” Aunt Dee scolded.
“My tarantulas aren’t just any old spiders!” Kermit fumed.
“Evan, your friend Andy is here,” Aunt Dee called down. “I think all three of
you should go outside and get some fresh air.”
“Andy?” Evan called. Without thinking, he started toward the stairs.
“Don’t move!” Kermit warned. “Don’t get them excited!”
Evan froze. The tarantula prickled the top of his head. He watched in horror
as the other one made its way across the lab table and began crawling up his
arm.
Andy burst down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Her short brown hair
bobbed behind her as she hurried across the basement to them.
Andy didn’t dress like most sixth graders. She didn’t care what other kids
wore. She liked bright colors.
Today she wore a shiny magenta windbreaker over yellow tights. Her bright
orange backpack hung over one shoulder.
“Hey, guys!” she greeted them breathlessly. “What are you doing?”
“An experiment,” Kermit replied solemnly.
“So what else is new!” Andy said, rolling her eyes. But then her mouth
dropped open in shock. She pointed at Evan with a trembling finger. “Evan! You
have a tarantula on your head!”
Evan felt the creature dig into his hair.
“It’s part of the experiment,” Kermit told Andy. “There’s another tarantula
crawling on his arm.”
“Get… them… off….” Evan ordered Kermit through gritted teeth.
Andy laughed. “This is an awesome experiment!”
Evan let out a growl and raised his fists.
“Calm,” Kermit warned. “If they sense your fear, you’re dead meat.”
Evan turned to Andy for help. But she had unzipped her backpack and was
digging inside.
The tarantula prickled his scalp as it moved toward his left ear.
“Kermit…” he begged.
Evan gasped as Andy pulled a blue plastic can from her backpack.
“Evan, look what I found!” Her dark eyes lit up. An evil grin spread across
her face.
“Monster Blood!” Evan cried. “Where’d you get that?”
“Somewhere,” Andy teased. She raised her hand to the lid and started to twist
it off.
“No—!” Evan shrieked. He dove toward her, grabbing for the can. “Don’t open
it! Andy—
don’t
!”
Andy pulled the can from Evan’s reach.
And twisted it open.
“NOOOO!” Evan shrieked.
She tilted the can so that he could see inside.
Empty.
She laughed and tossed the can aside. “April Fools’!”
“But it isn’t April!” Kermit declared.
Evan gulped—and felt something pinch his ear. The tarantula! The Monster
Blood can had frightened him so much, he’d forgotten about the creatures
crawling over his body.
“Uh-oh. Now you’ve excited them!” Kermit warned. “I think we’re going to
learn how painful a tarantula bite can be.”
Evan froze. He signaled frantically with his eyes for Andy to help him.
“Okay, okay,” she said finally. She stepped up to Evan and plucked the
tarantula off his head.
“You’re ruining the experiment!” Kermit protested.
Andy pulled the other tarantula off Evan’s arm. She handed them to Kermit.
Grumbling to himself, Kermit dropped them into the glass jar. Then he
scribbled some notes in a notebook.
Evan glared angrily at his cousin, clenching his hands into tight fists. The
tarantulas were gone, but his skin still prickled. “Let’s get the
Super-Soakers,” he growled.
He couldn’t wait to drench Kermit. He wanted to soak the little freak, to
make him sputter and choke and shiver and shake until he begged for mercy.
And then Evan would
really
let him have it!
“It’s kind of cold out for a water fight,” Kermit said.
“I don’t care,” Evan growled. “Let’s go.”
He turned to Andy. She swung her backpack away and zipped it before he could
see what was inside.
“What else have you got in there?” Evan demanded. “More dumb jokes?”
She sneered. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“Do you have more Monster Blood in there?” His voice cracked. “Do you have
real
Monster Blood?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she repeated, hugging the
backpack to her side.
Maybe I’ll soak her too, Evan thought. She’s asking for it. “Come on
outside,” he told her. “You can just watch.”
“Like I believe you,” she replied, rolling her eyes again. “I’ll wait in here
and do my homework. No way am I getting wet.”
Evan eyed the backpack intently. Did she have a real can of Monster Blood in
there? Did she?
Please—let the answer be
no!
he prayed as he led Kermit to the
backyard.
They filled their squirt-gun canisters from the garden hose behind the
garage. And the chase was on.
Kermit ran. Evan fired first. The Super-Soaker sprayed a stream of water over
Kermit’s head.
Evan lowered the squirt gun, and the water stream bounced off the back of
Kermit’s down jacket.
Evan pumped hard and kept the water flowing, squeezing the trigger again.
Again. He raised the spray and caught Kermit in the back of the neck.
Kermit let out a
yipe
as the cold water ran down his back.
He spun around. And shot a stream of water in Evan’s direction.
Evan dropped to his knees on the grass. The water stream flew over him.
He pulled the trigger and sent water splashing down the front of Kermit’s
jacket.
“Yo! Hey—!” A booming voice made Evan spin around.
“Conan—!” Evan cried.
Kermit sent a spray of icy water into the back of Evan’s head.
Evan jumped up and staggered forward. “Kermit—stop!” He caught his balance
before he bumped into Conan.
“You trying to get my new sneakers wet?” Conan snarled.
“No. No way,” Evan replied. He lowered his Super-Soaker to his side.
Kermit stepped up beside Evan. “Give us a break, Conan,” Kermit said. “Evan
isn’t afraid of you!”
“Oh, yeah?” Conan replied menacingly.
“Evan says he can take you down any day,” Kermit boasted.
“I did not say that!” Evan cried. “Kermit—what is your problem?”
He turned to Conan. “I didn’t say that. Really. My cousin is a little mixed
up. You know. From the fumes. All those chemicals he fools around with.”
Conan shook his beefy head. “You guys are really asking for it,” he muttered
angrily. He took a step toward Evan.
Evan gulped. He felt his Super-Soaker move.
He turned—and saw that Kermit had reached behind him.
Kermit was pushing up Evan’s squirt gun.
Before Evan could jerk it away, Kermit pulled the trigger.
And a stream of water poured out over Conan’s new sneakers.
Conan let out an angry cry. And grabbed the front of Evan’s coat.
“I—I didn’t do it!” Evan sputtered.
“It came out of
your
squirt gun,” Conan replied. His big hands
tightened on the coat. He tugged, lifting Evan off the ground.
“What are you going to do?” Evan shrieked.
“Hey—what’s up?” Andy came trotting out from the house.
Conan let Evan drop to the ground.
Evan stumbled but quickly caught his balance.
“Evan is teaching Conan a lesson,” Kermit reported.
Evan gave his cousin a hard shove. “I’m warning you, Kermit….”
Conan eyed Andy suspiciously. “What’s in your hand?” he demanded.
Evan turned as Andy held up her hand. She gripped a small blue plastic can.
“No—!” Evan gasped. “Andy—is that the empty one?”
She shook her head, an evil grin on her face. “Not empty. This one is full.”
Evan took a step back. “Get rid of it, Andy.”
Kermit reached for the can. “It’s the real stuff? Let me see it,” he demanded
eagerly.
“Are you crazy?” Evan cried. “Why did you bring that here, Andy? You know how
dangerous it is.”
Andy’s brown eyes flashed excitedly. She didn’t say a word. Instead, she
raised the blue can and started to pull off the lid.
“Nooo!”
Evan wailed. “Have you totally lost it?”
Andy grinned at him.
“Don’t open it!” Evan pleaded. “Please—don’t open it!”
With a grunt, Conan stepped forward and swiped the can from Andy. “Let me see
this stuff,” he growled.
He raised the can in front of his face—and pulled off the lid.
Conan pulled open the lid—and three cloth snakes sprung out and hit him in
the face.
He let out a startled yelp and let the can fall from his hand.
Andy tossed back her head and roared with laughter. Kermit laughed too, a
high, shrill whinny.
Evan swallowed hard. Too shaken to laugh.
No one ever played jokes on Conan.
No one.
Evan stared hard at Conan, frozen in terror. Conan’s face was bright red. He
was actually blushing!
Now he’s going to
pound
us, Evan thought. When Conan is finished with
us, we’re going to look just like those three fake snakes on the ground.
But to Evan’s surprise, Conan spun around and stomped off without saying a
word.
“That was a close one,” Evan murmured.
“It was funny!” Andy exclaimed. “What’s your problem? Lose your sense of
humor?”
“Yes,” Evan told her. “I don’t think Monster Blood is funny. It turned my
dog, Trigger, into a giant. It turned our classroom hamster into a roaring
monster. And it turned me into a twelve-foot-tall freak! That was the worst day
of my life!”
“I saved you—remember? I shrank you back to your real size,” Kermit
bragged.
“Yes, you did,” Evan had to admit. “That was the last good thing you ever
did.”
Kermit pouted. “That’s not a nice thing to say, Evan. I shared my tarantulas
with you—didn’t I?”
Evan groaned in reply.
Kermit’s expression suddenly changed. Behind his glasses, his eyes flashed.
“Wait right here,” he told them. He took off, running to his house.
“Where are you going now?” Evan called after him.
“I almost forgot what I wanted to show you,” Kermit called back. “It’s the
coolest thing!”
He disappeared into the house.
Evan turned to Andy. “How am I going to survive ten days with him?” he
wailed. “I just got here. And I’ve already had tarantulas climbing on my head!”
Andy laughed. “It could have been worse.”
“How could it be worse?”
“Well… it could have been head lice,” she said. “Remember when Kermit was
collecting head lice?”
“You’re not cheering me up, Annnnndrea,” Evan groaned.
“Don’t call me Andrea,” she grumbled. “Wow. You’re in a bad mood. Just think
of all the money you are earning. Your aunt is paying you five dollars an hour
to keep an eye on him—right?”
“If I survive,” Evan moaned.
He turned to the house. Kermit came running across the grass, carrying a
glass case between his hands.
“
Now
what is he bringing?” Evan cried.
“Maybe this is the head lice,” Andy said.
“Will you please stop talking about head lice?” Evan pleaded. “You’re making
my head itch!”
“Check this out!” Kermit cried, holding the glass case up to them.
Evan squinted into the case. He saw white mice inside. Six or eight of them.
With tiny black eyes and twitching pink noses. Crawling all over each other.
“Kermit—why did you bring your white mice outside?” he demanded.