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“He’s the school artist!” Roongrat chimes in.
“Excellent!” the picture guy says. “Move out of the way, chief, so the school Rembrandt can be immortalized!”
CHAPTER 17
lunch bites
I missed breakfast, so I practically eat my burger in one bite. It hits the spot, but my culinary moment is quickly ruined.
Why is Simon sitting at this table anyway? It’s usually just Parker, Roongrat, and me.
Apparently, Simon wants to chat with Parker. I bet she’s just as annoyed as I am but acting polite.
Roongrat, on the other hand, is a total Simon fanboy.
“Simon may be the greatest artist of our generation,” Roongrat says, significantly louder than he usually talks.
I need to get him off this subject before I lose my lunch.
“Hey, Roongrat,” I say. “Sure hope there’s no werewolf meat in these burgers!”
“Come again, Marty?” Roongrat can be slow.
So I remind him.
“You told me they found werewolf DNA in burgers, remember? Just this morning? On the way to school?”
A joke isn’t funny if you have to explain it.
“Did I say that?” Roongrat asks.
“You sure did, Roonie.”
“That’s not right. I must have misremembered my true facts.”
“You mis-what?”
“I know. It’s unusual for me to verbally express something that’s less than one hundred percent accurate,” Roongrat goes on. “What I meant to convey earlier was that they found dragon DNA in hamburger meat, not werewolf DNA.”
What? A werewolf is nothing like a dragon!
“Wait,” I say. “So, your opinion on werewolves is . . .”
“I hereby mentally determine they cannot exist,” Roongrat says. “If one really ponders it, the uncommonality of a moon reaction situation could not overcome the earthly based distance . . .”
I don’t hear the rest of his explanation. All I know is if Roongrat thinks werewolves don’t exist, that means they totally do!
This changes everything!
I reach into my pocket and take out the ripped pieces of the list.
“Doing a puzzle?” asks Roongrat. “The first puzzle was invented by a security guard who accidentally knocked over a monkey skeleton. It’s a fact.”
Luckily, I have all the pieces and quickly reassemble the list.
There they are, The 12 Werewolf Symptoms.
I uncap my marker and think back to what happened to me in school today.
I can’t believe this! There are only TWO symptoms left!
I take a sip of milk, and a bit drips off my lips.
It’s down to the wire now. I have 11 of The 12 Werewolf Symptoms!
I stare at the list for what feels like forever. Can it be?
There’s a tap on my shoulder. It’s Ms. Ortiz. “Marty, time to get back to class.”
CHAPTER 18
hulks mash
“They’re huge!” Simon says.
He’s right. The other players are enormous. They certainly picked the right team name.
Our soccer coach is Simon’s dad. Coach Cardigan calls us together for a pep talk. “They look big, but we have something they don’t!”
“Fear?” asks Carlos.
“NO! THE EYE OF THE LEOPARD!” yells Coach. “We can BEAT these guys if we all give ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN PERCENT!” I don’t think anyone believes that. We haven’t had a victory all season, and it doesn’t look like we’re going to start now.
But sometimes you have to play even though the odds are against you.
The game gets under way, and, as it turns out, not only do they look like hulks, they play like hulks. Our team is getting mashed like potatoes.
“Come on, ref!” Coach Cardigan complains. “Use your EYES! Call penalties on these guys!”
But it doesn’t seem to do any good.
I always thought Simon’s dad was tough, but the coach of the other team is the meanest, toughest guy I’ve ever seen.
The game goes on, and our team is getting beaten pretty badly—on the scoreboard and everywhere else.
The only good thing I have to report is Coach Cardigan hasn’t put me in the game yet.
“TIME OUT!” yells Coach.
Our team huddles up, and I hear moans and groans. “We’re not out of it yet!” Coach tells us. “If we can score ONE GOAL, their confidence will be SHATTERED! We can RALLY and TAKE IT TO ’EM!”
“Coach,” Roongrat says, “my scapula is agitated.”
“Sit out, Roonie. Marty, you’re goalkeeper now.”
“What? Me? But . . .”
“Okay, team, let me HEAR you!” Coach commands. “ONE, TWO, THREE!”
“That’s the spirit! Now give ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN AND A HALF PERCENT!”
I reluctantly stand in front of the goal. It’s not my best position. I stink at it, actually.
But maybe it’s safer here than out on the battlefield. Simon inbounds the ball to Carlos, but Hulk #34 bumps into him and kicks the ball to Hulk #12 who heads the ball to Hulk #33 who knees it to Hulk #4 who kicks it at our goal.
My reflexes are sharp, though, and I make an amazing save.
The ball deflects off me, hits a tree, bounces off the top of the fence, bangs into a No Parking sign, then collides with a speeding car.
The ball zooms back onto the field and hits one more hard object.
The Hulks’ coach staggers for a few steps, then falls on his back.
He lies there motionless, and everyone is silent. After a few seconds, he rolls onto his stomach and slowly gets onto his hands and knees.
No one makes a sound.
He shakes his head, manages to get to his feet, and walks unsteadily toward the ref.
Then the silence is broken.
Let’s just say, those weren’t his exact words. “UNSPORTSMANLIKE CONDUCT!” the ref yells. “RED TEAM FORFEITS! BLUE TEAM WINS!”
Blue team? That’s us! Our first victory of the season!
To celebrate, Coach takes us to get pizza and ice cream. But I can’t fully enjoy the moment.
When I get home, I grab my list.
There’s no other way to put it. I knocked out the toughest guy around.
CHAPTER 19
reading is fundamental
I have all of The 12 Werewolf Symptoms. This proves it.
I’m a werewolf!
And I’m the only one who knows it.
Well, not the only one. My sister knows it. And Jerome seems to know it, too.
He no longer sleeps on my head at night. He’s been spending a lot of his time under my bed.
Animals can sense things.
He doesn’t want to become mincemeat the night I transform into a vicious monster.
Smart cat. Save yourself.
Now, how do I save everyone else?
Maybe it’s time to admit to Erica that I read part of her diary and figured out I’m a werewolf.
She’ll probably know what I should do.
I head downstairs to face her. Luckily, she’s not doing anything important.
“Erica,” I say. “About your diary . . .”
“Do you have it, Marty? If you do, I’ll cause you a WORLD OF PAIN!”
“I assure you that I do not have your diary,” I say honestly. “Just wanted to wish you good luck finding it.”
I back away slowly and conclude that discussing this with Erica is a bad idea.
Then I hear a noise behind me. Jerome is sharpening his claws.
And there on the couch is the werewolf novel Erica was reading. That book must contain information on how to cure werewolfism!
I plop down on the couch and skim through the pages. It seems to be full of kissing.
That’s not helpful.
Then I finally find something.
There’s one sentence that mentions the main weakness of werewolves: “A werewolf is vulnerable to a silver bullet.”
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br /> Seems drastic.
There must be a better way to undo becoming a werewolf. I can think of another book that might contain helpful information.
And I know where to look for it.
CHAPTER 20
trash talk
Erica’s diary of secrets is somewhere in the town dump. How hard could it be to locate a little book in mountains of garbage?
Let’s find out.
I’ll recruit my friends, and we can cover a lot of ground. Or rather, cover a lot of trash.
We’ll be the D-Team!*
I explain the important mission to Roongrat, but for some reason he seems to be unavailable.
The D-Team just got smaller.
Now it becomes crucial that Parker agrees to help. How can I convince her to do something this disgusting?
I need to phrase it correctly.
“Parker,” I say. “Want to search through some filthy, rotting garbage with me?”
Awesome!
Everything is set. We’ll go right after school. But I run into a roadblock.
“Remember to turn in your homework, everyone,” McPhee the Roadblock says. “Or you’ll get a big, fat zero.”
Homework?
CHAPTER 21
you say you want a revolution
As long as I hand in something, McPhee won’t give me a zero.
I pull a random piece of paper out of my notebook and write “THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION” across the top.
“Let me take that for you,” I generously tell Roongrat as I grab his homework and place it on top of mine. I hand them both in to McPhee.
Looks like I got away with it. When the bell rings, I immediately zip to the door.
“Marty,” McPhee says right before I can escape. “Come up here, please.”
Gurk!
“What’s this supposed to be?” he asks as he holds up my paper.
“My report on the American Revolution,” I say.
“How does this relate to the American Revolution?”
“It was revolutionary of me to hand that in,” I tell him. “Alexander Hamilton would approve.”
“Detention, Marty.”
“What? I don’t have the time! A person and a pile of garbage are waiting for me!”
“Do you even know who Alexander Hamilton is?”
I remember Erica saying random things about history all week, so I give it a shot.
“He founded the Federalist Party, which pushed for a strong federal government,” I say. “He was the first secretary of the Treasury, created America’s financial system, and was one of the most important advisors to George Washington.”
“Lucky guess,” McPhee says. “What about James Madison?”
“He’s known as the ‘Father of the Constitution’ and wrote the Bill of Rights and was the fourth president.”
“Um . . .” McPhee says. He appears to be looking all of that up on his computer.
“And by the way, the American Revolutionary War was from 1775–1783,” I say.
McPhee looks astonished.
I probably do, too.
“I’m impressed, Marty,” he admits. “You really studied!”
“Sure, that’s exactly what I did. Can I go now? Can that count as my homework?”
“I’ll let you off the hook this time, but next time, write it down!”
“Thanks, Mr. McPhee! You’re the best! Well, you’re not really the best, per se. Let’s just say . . .”
“Good-bye, Marty.”
“Bye, Mr. McPhee!”
I hightail it out of there before Parker thinks I stood her up!
CHAPTER 22
pump it up
The dump is a good distance away, so I’ll have to bike it. I can’t use my superhuman speed without arousing suspicion.
I get home but can’t find my bike anywhere!
I ask Erica if she’s seen it, but she’s even less help than usual.
Oh yeah. My bike is still at Parker’s!
I rush over and find it right where I left it. But it has a flat.
I forgot about that.
Before I can figure out what to do, there’s an ominous voice behind me. “I was wondering what boy that bike belonged to.”
Uh-oh.
“Hi there, Mr. Fedora.”
“Follow me, Marty.”
Sigh.
I knew it would eventually come to this. Parker’s dad is going to make me into a piece of high-quality furniture.
Maybe this is best for society. He’ll turn me into a nightstand before I turn into a night stalker.
For the good of mankind, I accept my fate and follow Mr. Fedora to the front of the garage.
I’ll never get to grow up. I’ll never become a famous artist. I’ll never become a father.
But there’s still a chance I’ll become a grandfather.
Mr. Fedora opens the garage door, gets an air pump, and inflates the tire.
“There you go, Marty. It was just a little low.”
“Thanks, Mr. Fedora!”
“Are you here looking for Parker?” he asks me. I don’t answer. This might be a trick question.
“Hey, Marty!” Parker calls down from a nearby tree.
“Hey, Parker!” I say. “You ready?”
“Dad! I’m going bike riding.”
“Okay, have fun,” Mr. Fedora says. “But be back for dinner.”
Then I hear a familiar voice behind me. “Hello, Marty.”
It’s Roongrat.
“I decided to attend after all,” he says. “I heard Simon will be there.”
“You heard wrong,” I say. “But welcome to the team, Roonie.”
Then I hear another familiar voice. “Hey, Parker!”
Simon? What’s that monkey washer doing here?!
“Hope you don’t mind, Marty,” Parker says as she climbs down from the tree. “I invited Simon.”
MIND? OF COURSE, I MIND! I say loudly inside my head.
“Mind? Why would I mind?” I say calmly out of my mouth.
CHAPTER 23
the d-team
Once I get over the shock of that monkey-washing Simon joining us, I decide that having four people on the D-Team is a good thing after all.
When we arrive at the dump, there’s a hole in the fence, so it’s easy to sneak in. I guess no one bothered to fix it because most normal people don’t want to sneak into a dump.
One thing’s clear, though. This place stinks!
I wonder if my enhanced canine sense of smell makes it worse for me than the others.
Or maybe it makes it better. If memory serves me correctly, canines like the smell of stinky things.
I hand out the gloves and bandannas that I borrowed from my mom’s gardening supplies. Luckily, I brought enough.
Then the D-Team spreads out.
It soon occurs to me that Simon hasn’t insulted me once since we started. And he seems surprisingly motivated.
I bet it’s because he has a crush on my sister and wants to see if he’s mentioned in her diary.*
Meanwhile, Roongrat keeps getting distracted.
Parker gets sidetracked, too.
As for me, I stay completely focused on looking for the diary.
That is, until I find a Twinkie still in the wrapper. You really work up an appetite searching through garbage.
I sit on an old tire and unwrap the spongy treat, but before I can take a bite, it’s snatched from my hand.
“DEWEEEEEEY!” yells Parker.
She chases him with the crate, but Dewey zigs and zags. There are a zillion hiding places here, and soon that pooch is nowhere to be found.
“Poor dog,” Parker says. “He eats garbage that he finds in the dump.”
I look at the empty wrapper in my hand. “Yeah,” I say. “Can’t imagine doing that.”
Eventually, Simon begins to lose his enthusiasm and reverts back to his usual self.
Before I have a chance to kick him off the D-Team, Simon quits on his own.
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Roongrat follows suit. Then Parker!
The D-Team falls like dominoes!*
“Had a blast, Marty,” Parker says, “but I have to get home for dinner. Sorry we couldn’t find your sister’s diary, but it was a long shot anyway.”
“Thanks for trying,” I say.
I offer to carry the dog crate to Parker’s bike and tie it to the back, but when I try to pick it up, it’s heavier than I expected. I peek inside.
It’s Dewey!
“Parker!” I say. “We caught Dewey!”
The door flies open.
Once the shock wears off and I get up off my butt, I apologize to Parker for getting her hopes up.
“That’s okay,” she says. “I’ll catch him one day!”
Everyone else heads home, and that means the D-Team is down to just me.
And that’s the moment I discover something: walking around in garbage alone isn’t as much fun.
Time to face the music. The mission was a failure. The diary is gone forever, and I’ll never know if it held any important antiwerewolf secrets.
But the day wasn’t a total loss. I did find something useful.
On the way home, I stop at the store to buy a candy bar. I can tell people are acting weird around me.
Seems the public is starting to sense that I’m becoming a monster.
CHAPTER 24
crazy ache
I wake up with a toothache.
It must be my fangs growing in. My dad thinks it’s a cavity. “Seems far-fetched,” I say.
“Marty, you ate thirty bars of candy.”
“WHAT?” yells my mom. She was on a business trip at the time, and this is news to her.