Professor Gargoyle

ELEVEN





In the minutes between sixth and seventh periods, Robert stashed Pip and Squeak on the top shelf of his locker. “Now stay here and be quiet,” he told them. “Science is my last class of the day, and then I’ll come back to get you.”

He was preparing for the worst. He knew Professor Goyle would be furious, that he’d be looking for the person who broke his aquarium and freed Pip and Squeak. And Robert was the most likely suspect. He didn’t think Goyle would threaten him in a classroom full of witnesses. But what if Goyle told Robert to stay behind after class? What would happen then?

It was tempting to skip the class altogether, but Robert worried that doing so would make him look even guiltier. He decided he would go to class and act like he’d had nothing to do with it. Maybe the rats had simply overturned the aquarium on their own. That was possible, wasn’t it?

Robert was one of the last students to arrive in the classroom. Someone had cleaned up the broken glass and shavings. There was no sign of any disturbance. But at least one other student noticed that Pip and Squeak were gone.

“Hey, Nerdbert!” Glenn called from across the room. “Looks like Goyle got rid of your pet!”

Robert ignored him, sat down, and took out a notebook. He began to recopy his homework in neater handwriting. He wanted to be busy working when Goyle arrived, so he’d have an excuse for not making eye contact.

But the late bell rang and still no teacher came.

The skeleton at the front of the classroom appeared to be watching the door, as if it was waiting for a teacher like everyone else. Robert was reminded of the first day of school, when Sarah Price suggested that Robert go to the principal’s office and get help. It was only two weeks ago, but it seemed like ancient history.

Finally, the classroom door opened and in walked a short, stout woman with thick glasses and curly black hair. The students gawked as she carried a stack of folders over to Professor Goyle’s desk.

“Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Mrs. Kinski and I’ll be your substitute teacher this afternoon. It seems poor Professor Goyle has an upset stomach today.”

Again, Robert recalled the image of Goyle with his jaw unhinged, stuffing a live hamster into his mouth.

“Now pay attention, because I have some exciting news,” Mrs. Kinski continued. “For today’s lesson, we’re going to look at a strange world that’s teeming with thousands of bizarre species. You’ll be shocked to learn that this world is waiting just outside the doors of this school. In fact, it’s so close, you kids could bike over and dip your toes in it.” As she spoke, Mrs. Kinski lowered a projection screen at the front of the classroom. It was filled with images of a rolling blue sea. “I’m talking about the ocean, of course, and today we’re going to watch a documentary about the exciting field of marine biology!”

A couple of kids clapped, but the rest had already started passing notes or goofing off. Robert had never been so grateful to have a substitute teacher. He hoped Mrs. Kinski would teach Goyle’s class all week.

At 2:45, the last bell rang and Robert returned to the library. He spent another twenty minutes trying to find his way back to the attic, without success. Ms. Lavinia watched him skeptically from her chair at the circulation desk. “We’ll be closing in ten minutes,” she told him. “There’s always the public library, if you need more time.”

Robert walked to his locker. By this time, all his classmates were gone; all the hallways were empty; all the digital bulletin boards were already turned off for the night.

His footsteps echoed across the tiled floor.

He stopped in front of his locker, entered the combination, and opened the door.

“Squeak? Pip? Where are you guys?”

The top shelf was empty except for Fangs Dungaree and the large leather-bound book that Robert had taken from the attic. There was no sign of his pets. Robert panicked, tearing through the pile of the books at the bottom of his locker. Finally he noticed that the hood of his windbreaker was moving; he peered inside and there were Pip and Squeak, cozied up as if they were resting in a hammock.

“There you are!” he exclaimed. “You guys scared me!”

“Who scared you?” Glenn Torkells asked.

He had come out of nowhere. Robert tried to swing the locker door closed but he wasn’t fast enough; Glenn blocked it with his big, dirty boot.

“I asked you a question, Nerdbert. Who scared you?” Glenn peered into the locker, but Pip and Squeak had burrowed even deeper into the hood of the windbreaker.

“Nobody,” Robert said. “I was just talking to myself.”

Glenn laughed. “So you scared yourself? You’re such a chicken you actually scared yourself? I should charge you a double dweeb tax for that one.”

Robert grabbed the windbreaker and tucked it beneath his arm. “I have to go.”

“Hang on a second,” Glenn said, reaching into the locker for the leather-bound book. “Where’d you get this thing? From one of those Halloween stores?” Glenn opened the cover and dust fell from the pages. He pointed to an illustration of an old man with a single horn in the center of his head. “Who’s this,” he asked, pointing at it with a dirty fingernail, “your dad?”

“Very funny,” Robert said. “Give it back.”

“Hang on a second,” Glenn said, “I’m going to tell you a story.” He flipped to a passage in the middle of the book. “Deph-pha. Ctzelzog. Enorhula-tu.” He was stumbling over the words; they were impossible to pronounce. “Is this French or something? Who talks this way?”

“Just give it back,” Robert pleaded.

“Hey, listen to this one. Kyaloh yog-sothoth f’ah. Kyaloh yog-sothoth f’ah.” He bobbed his head like he was rapping to a beat box. “Ky-ky-kyaloh. Yo-yo-yog-sothoth.”

Robert became aware of a cold draft coming from his locker. It was weird; it felt like the temperature in the hallway had abruptly dropped thirty degrees. And there was a smell, too. A strangely familiar smell. Like moldy mothballs. The draft was stronger now, an actual gust of wind—but how was that possible?

“Ky-ky-kyaloh—”

“Glenn,” Robert said.

“Yo-yo-yog-sothoth—”

“Glenn, I think you should stop,” Robert said. As he spoke, puffs of white vapor left his mouth, like he was outdoors in the middle of January. An icy frost was forming on the edges of the book, as though it had suddenly frozen solid.

“Yow!” Glenn exclaimed, dropping the book to the floor. “What’s wrong with that thing?”

“I don’t think you should have read that.”

Robert tried to pick up the book, but it was so cold it burned his fingertips. He yanked his hand away.

The wind was making his locker buckle and stretch; it seemed to be widening, almost yawning. The back wall of the locker had dissolved into a sort of swirling blackness. Robert stared into the center of the spiral. There was something hypnotic about it. He might have kept staring if Glenn hadn’t tugged on his arm, yanking him back to the present.

“Hey, what is that?”

Robert looked down. Extending from the locker and coiled around Glenn’s left ankle was a purple and yellow tentacle. Like the arm of a giant octopus, minus the suckers. Its surface glistened with slime.

The tentacle tugged on Glenn’s leg.

“Whoa!” Glenn shouted, shifting off-balance suddenly, hopping on his one free leg and struggling to stand upright. “What the heck, man! Get it off!”

Robert reached down but there was no place to grip the tentacle; his hands slipped helplessly over its slimy surface. “I’ll get a teacher.”



“No!” Glenn shouted. The tentacle tugged again, pulling Glenn closer to the locker, pulling his right leg inside the locker. “Don’t leave me here, Robert!” Glenn grabbed the sides of the locker to steady himself, but more tentacles were tethering themselves around his arms and wrists and waist. “Come on, help me! I’m losing my grip!”

Robert hated Glenn more than anyone he’d met in his entire life, but what else could he do? No one deserved this. Whatever this was. He swung his leg with all his might, kicking one of the tentacles. It didn’t budge.

Another tentacle slithered out of the locker and grabbed Glenn’s right ankle, yanking his leg into the black vortex. He was off the ground now, hanging on for his life, nearly consumed. Robert reached out and grabbed Glenn’s wrists, trying to pull him out, but he was no match for the beast beyond the locker.

“Don’t let go!” Glenn yelled, his eyes wide with terror. “Please, Robert, don’t you let—” And then a thin purple tentacle coiled itself around Glenn’s mouth, silencing his voice.

Robert could feel Glenn’s wrists slipping through his fingers. It was too late. He was losing his grip and Glenn was going to disappear inside the black, swirling vortex …

And then Robert felt four tiny paws racing up his back and vaulting over his shoulder. Pip and Squeak landed on the largest tentacle and sank their teeth into it. From deep within the locker came a low, bellowing roar. Pip and Squeak bit again and again. Fizzy green goo bubbled out of the wounds like a strange toxic sludge. One by one, the tentacles released their grip on Glenn and retreated into the locker. Robert pulled hard on Glenn’s wrists, yanking him back into the hallway. Both boys landed in a heap on the floor and for a long time, at least a minute, they didn’t move. They were too numb and frightened and exhausted to do anything.

The next time Robert looked at his locker, it resembled a perfectly ordinary locker, with rigid metal walls and a hook for hanging coats. Pip and Squeak were resting contentedly on the small shelf near the top.

“What just happened?” Glenn finally asked.

“We saved your life,” Robert said. “You’re supposed to say thank you.”