Annie Pitts, Swamp Monster Read online

The town pool was back near the playground. It was closed for the winter, but the bathrooms and showers were still open. I headed for the ladies’ locker room.

  All Matthew had to do to get clean was to take off his bandages. I, on the other hand, couldn’t take my costume off. I was wearing only a turtleneck shirt and a thin pair of tights underneath. And my Minnie Mouse underpants showed right through the tights. I decided I would just have to clean up the artichoke costume as best I could so I could wear it home.

  I stepped under the shower and tried to turn the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. I forced it as hard as I could, and suddenly a blast of cold water hit me. By the time I could turn it off, I was soaked from head to toe.

  But in the mirror I saw that I was actually clean. Wet, but clean. The mud was gone. But something strange was happening.

  The Mountain Moss shampoo had suddenly started to bubble.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Home Again, Home Again

  “Gross!”

  That’s what Matthew said when he saw me. I was a walking ball of suds. And if I smelled bad before, that was nothing compared to the aroma now oozing from my costume.

  Mark backed away, saying, “Get rid of that thing! It’s disgusting—even for a swamp monster!”

  “I can’t take it off,” I said. “I don’t have anything else to wear. Can you lend me your jacket?”

  “No way! You’ll mess it up,” he said.

  “Then I’ll just have to go home like this,” I said. “But if I mess up your mother’s car, it’s all your fault.”

  “All right, all right,” he said. He lifted his windbreaker over his head and handed it to me. “But try not to smell it up too much,” he added.

  “I’ll try,” I mumbled, and I went inside to change. It wasn’t easy getting out of the costume. Two of my fake fingernails were loose and popped off while I was struggling with a knot.

  I left the two nails and the bubbling costume in the trash can of the ladies’ room at Tibbetts Brook Park. I put on Mark’s jacket, and was glad that it covered most of me up.

  And so we walked out to the bus stop to wait for our ride: Mark in his T-shirt, Matthew in a Spiderman pajama top, and me in a size large windbreaker that came down to my knees.

  We must have looked pretty weird waiting at the bus shelter. Matthew sat on one side of me, and two teenaged girls sat on the other. Mark stood out by the curb with his back to us. I guess he didn’t want the girls to know he was with a couple of third-graders.

  It started to rain harder, but Mark stayed right where he was, getting soaked. No one on the bench talked. It was sort of like being in an elevator. For some reason, people don’t talk to each other at bus stops or in elevators.

  It reminded me of the time I burped in the elevator on the way to the dentist’s office, and it echoed really loudly. My mother was embarrassed, but I wasn’t. I thought it was funny. But I was little then. If I had to burp in an elevator now, I would probably try to hold it in.

  The teenaged girls didn’t talk and they didn’t burp. But they were noisy anyway, because they snapped their chewing gum. I don’t know how they make that loud cracking noise without blowing bubbles. I think you learn it in junior high.

  I couldn’t help but notice that the girls were wearing fake fingernails also. One had Ruby Red, just like mine. The other had a peachy color.

  I sat with my hands folded gracefully over my knee. I tucked in the fingers with the missing nails and sat up tall. Maybe they would think I was in high school too. After all, I was wearing a high school jacket. And humongous gold earrings.

  I tried to think of a way to start a conversation. Maybe I should tell them I was an actress and I had just completed my first movie. That would impress them.

  A car suddenly pulled up in front of the bus shelter. It wasn’t Mrs. McGill’s car, but Mark got in anyway.

  “Hey!” Matthew yelled after him. “Where’re you going?”

  Mark shouted back through the rain, “Tell Mom I went to the Burger Bam with Mike and James. I’ll get a ride home later.”

  Matthew ran out to the car. “Can I come too?” he yelled through the half-opened window.

  “No! You guys keep an eye on the equipment and wait for Mom. She should be here any minute. And anyway, you’re wearing your pajamas!”

  Matthew came back under the shelter and slumped down onto the bench, pretending he didn’t know me. Fine. I didn’t want the girls to think I hung out with third-graders either.

  I was about to mention how immature that boy on the other end of the bench was, but they had already started talking to each other. In between gum snaps, I realized, they were talking about Mark.

  “So, what’d ya think?” snap “Cute?”

  snap “Nah, too skinny.”

  “Nice hair, though.” snap

  “Couldn’t tell.” snap “It was wet.”

  “Maybe it’s”—snap—“mousse.”

  snap “No way.” snap, crack, crack

  I was so fascinated by all that snapping and cracking that I didn’t notice at first when the girl next to me offered a piece of gum.

  “Wanna piece?” snap

  “Sure!” I said. I couldn’t believe a real high-school person offered me gum! I unwrapped it and popped it into my mouth. The girl reached over and offered Matthew a piece too, but he was busy wiggling his tooth and ignored her.

  Then the girls started talking about Mark again.

  “I think he’s in my”—crack, crack—“math class.”

  “Oooooooh”—snap—“lucky you.”

  My gum was just about soft enough and I tried to make it snap—sst. All I could make was a slurp sound. I tried again—chk. This was harder than I thought.

  I was about to ask them to teach me how to snap gum, when the bus came and they jumped in. Suddenly, Matthew and I were left alone on the bench.

  He was busy wiggling one of his loose teeth, and I was busy trying to snap my gum. It was clear that we weren’t ever talking to each other again.

  The cracking and the wiggling continued until I noticed a strange figure coming toward us. Through the rain, I could just make out someone carrying a large beach umbrella. There were cows printed all over it. The figure also carried some shopping bags, a skateboard, and a tangled bunch of rope.

  There was something very familiar about this person. In fact, there was only one person I knew who would carry an umbrella like that.

  “Grandma!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Very Interesting People (VIPs)

  Grandma scooted under the shelter, closed her cow umbrella, and said, “Annie! Matthew! What are you two doing all alone out here?”

  “We’re waiting for Mom and Mrs. McGill to pick us up,” I said. “Mark already left.” Before I could ask her what she was doing at the bus stop, she squished herself and all her belongings onto the bench between Matthew and me.

  “Oh, good,” she said. “I can hitch a ride back with you kids instead of taking the bus. Whew! Nasty day isn’t it? Lucky for me, I picked up this umbrella at a garage sale down the street. Do you have any more gum, Annie? I’m starving.”

  “You can have mine,” I said. “It doesn’t work.”

  “What’s it supposed to do?”

  “I’m trying to make it crack,” I told her. “But I can’t figure out how to do it.”

  Grandma said, “I don’t think I can help you there. Did you ask Matthew if he knows?”

  “We’re not talking to each other,” I explained as I poked through the shopping bags. Grandma often came home with interesting things from garage sales. “What’s in here?” I asked.

  “Oh, someone was selling a bunch of nice kids’ books. I’m going to give them to the school library.”

  She rummaged through the bags, pulled out a paperback, and said, “Here’s one you might like, Matthew: Under the Mummy’s Spell.”

  Matthew started looking through the book, while Grandma checked out the rest of her “treasures.�
� She held up the skateboard. “You know, I’ve always wanted to try this. Maybe you kids can teach me. And here’s a perfectly good fishnet. I was thinking of making a spider costume for Halloween. This could be the web. The seniors at the center where I volunteer will love it.”

  Grandma finally settled back and said, “So, where are your costumes? I didn’t get a chance to see you all dressed up before I left.”

  “It’s a long story,” I groaned. “I’ll tell you later.”

  “But how did the shooting go?” she asked.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Just ‘okay’?” she asked. “You mean I don’t have a wonderful new monster film to look forward to?”

  Matthew was surprised and asked, “You like monster movies?”

  “I like the old ones.” Grandma laughed. “Last night we rented The Creature from the Black Lagoon, Godzilla, and The Thing from Outer Space—just so Annie could get some ideas for your brother’s movie. Now those are real classics!”

  “Wow!” said Matthew. “My grandmother only lets me watch Disney movies.”

  “We still have the tapes,” Grandma said. “You can come over and watch them if you want to. Ask your mother.”

  “He can’t come over,” I said quickly. “We have too much homework.”

  Matthew said, “What homework?”

  I stuck my gum under the seat and said, “I’m not talking to you, remember?”

  Matthew turned to Grandma and said, “Would you please ask Annie what homework we have to do? I was at the orthodontist yesterday afternoon and didn’t get the assignment.”

  Grandma looked interested. “You’re getting braces, Matthew?”

  “When all my baby teeth are out. See?” He pulled back his lips to show my grandmother all the baby teeth he still had left.

  “I see,” she said. Then she turned to me and said, “Matthew would like to know what homework you have. He was absent yesterday.”

  “I know,” I answered. “I had a very pleasant afternoon. Tell him we have to do a biography project for Monday.”

  “Annie says you have a biography project due on Monday.”

  “Ask her what we’re supposed to do.”

  “Matthew wants to know more about the project.”

  “I don’t remember. Something about choosing someone we know and making a presentation about them in front of the whole class. Tell him that Miss G. kept saying she wanted it to be interesting. That’s all I remember.”

  Grandma turned to Matthew. “Did you get that?”

  “Sort of. Ask her if it’s an oral or a written report.”

  “Oral or written?”

  “Let me think…” I said. I tried to remember what Miss G. had told us. I should’ve paid more attention. “I think we can do it any way we want to,” I said. “As long as it’s some kind of presentation. She said we can work with partners too. That much I remember.”

  “Isn’t that lovely, Matthew? You can work with a partner.”

  “Tell her I don’t want to be her partner.”

  “Tell him I didn’t ask him.”

  “Well,” Grandma said. “Now that that’s all settled, suppose you tell me whose biography you’re doing, Annie.”

  “That’s the problem,” I said. “I can’t think of anybody. Do you know any interesting people, Grandma?”

  “Well, let’s see,” she said. “There are some fascinating people at the senior center. Like Gus Wicki. I think he’s interesting. He used to be the voice of Pepi Le Cat.”

  “Who’s Pepi Le Cat?” I asked.

  “Pepi is an old cartoon character from many years ago,” she said. “Gus also sang the song in the Sudso commercial. You know, the one that went, ‘A little Sudso makes a lot of suds. Use it safely on your delicate duds.’”

  “Wow!” Matthew said. “You know someone famous!”

  Grandma laughed. “I might know some other interesting people too.”

  And so Grandma gave us a whole list of interesting people she knew, beginning with all the kids she tutored at the Y, and ending with an eighteen-year-old pilot named Dennis.

  “How do you know a pilot?” I asked.

  “He’s my flying instructor.”

  “Your flying instructor!” I yelled. “Grandma, you’re taking flying lessons?!”

  “Yes, but don’t tell your mother. She’s such a worrywart. In another three months I can get my pilot’s license. Then I’ll take you for a ride. You too, Matthew.”

  “Thanks!” he said. “I bet you’re the only grandmother in the country who flies a plane!”

  Grandma laughed. “I’m not so sure about that,” she said. “But I do know that I’m the only grandmother in the painting class at the college downtown.”

  I suddenly realized there was a lot I didn’t know about my grandmother, and what she did when I was in school. “I didn’t know you took painting lessons,” I said.

  “I don’t,” she answered. “I’m the model. Some of the students are quite good, you know.”

  That sounded interesting. Maybe I could do it myself someday, if I’m not too busy making movies. “Do you get to wear fancy costumes and stuff?” I asked.

  “No,” she said matter-of-factly. “I don’t wear anything at all.”

  Matthew’s jaw dropped and I coughed suddenly and almost choked, but Grandma just kept on talking about her modeling job.

  “And you know what’s interesting?” she said. “The instructor says she prefers older models because they have more character.”

  I quickly changed the subject by saying, “Speaking of character, we still have to choose one for our biography. Ask Matthew who he’s doing.”

  Grandma turned to Matthew. “Annie wants to know whose biography you’re doing.”

  Matthew thought for a minute, then said, “I don’t know anyone as interesting as you, but I have an idea. I’m thinking of doing a biography on monsters.”

  I didn’t like the way that sounded. “What are you talking about? I mean—ask Matthew what he’s talking about.”

  Grandma turned to Matthew and said, “Matthew?”

  Matthew answered, “The mummy and the swamp monster are interesting characters. Tell her I’m going to bring in Mark’s videotape that we made today. That way I don’t have to do anything for homework.”

  “But I’m on that tape!” I shouted. “Tell him I want to use it for my project too!”

  “Well, well,” Grandma said. “Looks like you’re partners after all!”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Presenting…

  When I got to the classroom on Monday morning, Matthew handed me a large yellow envelope with a note scribbled on the outside. It said, “Send to Producer.”

  “What’s this?” I whispered to Matthew.

  “I swiped this from Mark’s room after he left this morning. It must be the edited tape.”

  “But look,” I said, pointing to the note. “Is Mark really going to send it to a movie producer?”

  “I guess so,” Matthew said.

  “Is that what he said?”

  “I didn’t ask him.”

  “How could you not ask him?” I said a little too loudly.

  Miss G. raised her hand to get our attention. “Boys and girls,” she said, “we have a lot to cover today. We want to give everyone a chance to present their biographies. I know you’ve worked very hard on this project, so I expect some wonderful blah blah blah …”

  While Miss G. talked, I was thinking about movie producers watching our tape. It must have turned out really good if Mark was sending it. This was definitely the beginning of my acting career! I jumped up with excitement. “Yes!” I shouted.

  Miss G. called on me. “Annie, would you like to go first?”

  I suddenly realized I was standing. “Uh, no, not yet.” I said and sat down. Matthew and I had agreed we wanted to do our presentation last because we knew it would be the best one.

  Miss G. called on Susan, and Susan walked to the front of the room wit
h poster board under her arm. When she placed it on the blackboard tray, I could see that there were photographs of firefighters glued all over it. I noticed that one of them was a lady.

  Susan cleared her throat and began. “My biography is about Linda Brown, a firefighter with the Yonkers Fire Department, Engine Forty-seven. She’s also my mother.”

  Her report was very interesting. She told us about the dangerous things that firefighters have to do, and how she worries about her mother sometimes when she’s at work.

  Miss G. thanked Susan for her great presentation and called on Thomas to go next. Thomas had bragged on Friday that he was going to interview the president of a toy company. He said his father plays golf with him.

  Thomas didn’t have any pictures. He just read from his paper:

  “Mr. Ralph Butts is the president of the Fun Time Toy Company.

  “His office has a gray rug and pictures of boats on the walls. He talks a lot on the phone and drinks a lot of coffee.

  “I asked him if he got any action figures for free, and if he had any extras, because I really liked them. He said he didn’t.

  “I asked him what new toys were coming out. He said he didn’t know. Somebody else did that.

  “I asked him what he did. He said that he watched the money.

  “I asked him if I could help him watch the money. He said no.

  “I asked him if he liked kids, and he said not really.

  “The end.”

  I heard a few giggles from the back of the room.

  Miss G. hushed them and said, “Thomas, that was … interesting. But could you tell us a little more about Mr. Butts’ life? Did you learn how he got started in the business?”

  Thomas looked at his paper to see if there was anything there that he had missed. There wasn’t. “He wasn’t nice at all,” he finally said, almost in tears. “I thought a toy company would have nice people in it!”

  “Well, thank you for the report, Thomas,” Miss G. said. She sent him gently back to his seat. “Now who would like to go next?” No one raised his hand, so Miss G. volunteered some kids.

  We heard about a piano teacher, a truck driver, and an uncle who was an orthodontist. Ayuko told us about her older sister, who only ate white food—like potatoes, spaghetti, and vanilla ice cream.