18

I watched each minute tick away on the alarm clock near my bed. Finally — midnight. Time to get moving.

I tiptoed down the hall to the guest room where Fergie slept. I knocked on the door.

"Fergie," I whispered. "Fergie, get up!"

She appeared at the door in an instant, fully dressed. "The dogs? Are the dogs here?" she asked, eyes wide with fright.

She seemed really spooked. And she had awful pillow-hair static.

"No, dope." I whispered. "It's time to scare Mickey."

Fergie rubbed her eyes. "Oh, yeah, right."

Without saying another word, she slid under the bed and came out with a shoe box and some string.

"Let me see it again," I said eagerly.

Fergie smiled, then opened the box. Inside sat a huge, hairy, totally gross, disgusting black rat.

A fake, of course. But it looked so real! Real enough to fool another rat. A rat like Mickey.

I lifted the rat from the box and shook it in Fergie's face.

She backed away and let out a yelp, even though she knew it was made of rubber or something.

I tied the string around the rat's neck and waved at Fergie to follow me. We crept silently into the hall and headed for Mickey's room.

This was going to be totally awesome! I couldn't wait to see the look on Mickey's face when our hairy rat slithered across his bed!

We stopped in the hall outside Mickey's room. His door stood slightly open. I poked my head in and checked out his bedroom.

By the dim light in the hallway, I could see Mickey in bed, all covered up, fast asleep. Mickey never sleeps with a pillow. He always tosses it on the floor when he climbs into bed. There it was, next to his shoes.

I stepped back from the door and pulled Fergie aside.

"Okay, here's the plan," I whispered. "When we're inside the room, go to the left. That's where the closet is. I'll tiptoe over to the bed and put the rat on Mickey. Then I'll meet you in the closet."

"Check," Fergie whispered solemnly.

"And, remember," I warned her, "be quiet!"

"Check," Fergie said again.

With the rat in one hand, I carefully made my way into Mickey's room. I glimpsed Fergie heading left to the closet. I headed right.

I had nearly reached Mickey's bed when I heard a loud crack.

My heart jumped to my throat. I spun around and stared at Fergie in horror.

I saw instantly what had happened. She had stepped on Mickey's skateboard.

We both turned to the bed.

Mickey didn't move a muscle.

He hadn't heard the noise.

I let out a quiet sigh of relief, then shot Fergie a warning glance.

She nodded nervously.

I watched as she opened the closet door and ducked inside.

I held the rat out in front of me and edged closer to Mickey's bed. My hand shook, but I gripped the hairy creature tightly.

I stared down at Mickey under the covers. He slept soundly.

I crept closer.

Bundled under the blankets, it was impossible to tell where Mickey's body started. I set the rat down gently, near his stomach, I think.

Then I tiptoed to the closet. Inside, I knelt next to Fergie and gave her a thumbs-up sign.

Operation "Scare Mickey" was in effect.

And I couldn't be more excited.

It served him right.

I quietly pulled the closet door toward me, leaving it open just a crack. I held tightly onto the end of the string.

"Ready?" I whispered.

"Ready," she whispered back.

"Okay," I said. "On three. One… two… uh, Fergie, stop kicking me."

"I'm not touching you," she whispered sharply.

"You are, too. Stop it, okay?"

"No way. My feet are all the way over here," Fergie protested.

"Ow! You kicked me again!" I whispered.

She raised her voice. "I did not!"

I clamped my hand over her mouth.

We both froze.

I heard breathing.

Heavy breathing.

Not my breathing. Not Fergie's breathing.

I swallowed hard.

"F-Fergie," I stammered. "We're not alone in here!"

Загрузка...