دوستام منو هیولا صدا می زنند فصل 07

My Friends Call Me Monster - Chapter 7

I hugged the cat even closer to my chest. “Please,” I whispered. “Please be quiet.” The attic stairs creaked and groaned. Keeping low, I poked my head out just enough to see.

Mrs. Hardesty climbed into the attic.

Daisy was right. She had changed her clothes. She was wearing a gray sweatshirt over baggy purple pants. Instead of her black pumps, she wore black sneakers.

Please don’t meow. Please don’t make a sound, I silently begged the cat.

Mrs. Hardesty glanced around. She took a few steps toward the couch.

She wiped something off the old radio with one hand. Then she moved to a window and peered down at the street.

Was it the longest, scariest moment of my life?

Yes. But I knew it would get a lot scarier if our teacher caught us there.

I heard voices. Some kids playing outside. I wished I was out there with them.

I hugged the cat tighter. Was I smothering the poor thing?

Mrs. Hardesty moved away from the window. She stepped up to the tall covered thing by the stairs.

Still hugging the cat to my chest, I peeked out from behind the couch.

She was pulling the sheet off. After a few seconds, I could see a little bit of what was underneath. It was smooth and white.

She tugged the sheet away and folded it neatly. I stared at what she had uncovered. Stared at it in disbelief.

It was an egg. A six-foot-tall egg.

Daisy and DeWayne were crouched beside me behind the couch. They couldn’t see what I was seeing. They stared straight ahead, afraid to breathe.

Mrs. Hardesty walked around the egg a few times, inspecting it. She smoothed her hand gently over the shell as she circled it.

She had a strange smile on her face. Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

What kind of bird or animal could lay an egg that big? I asked myself.

A few weeks earlier, I had seen dinosaur eggs on a cool show on the Discovery Channel. They were tiny compared to this giant egg.

It can’t be real, I decided. It’s a sculpture. Yes. That’s it. It’s a piece of art.

Someone made it out of plaster or something. That’s why Mrs. Hardesty was acting so proud of it.

While those thoughts whirred through my mind, Mrs. H stopped circling. She faced the egg and stretched both arms around its wide middle.

Was she hugging it?

No.

I gasped as she pulled herself off the floor. Her sneakers pushed against the eggshell. She slid her hands higher … higher … And in seconds, she had climbed to the top. Then she turned to face the window. She was sitting on top of the egg!

Wow. That shell must be really thick and tough, I thought.

I watched her settle herself up there. She lowered her hands beside her on the shell.

Daisy and DeWayne had to see this. Otherwise, they’d think I was making it up.

Silently, I crawled backward and made a space for them. Then I waved for them to move and take a look.

They didn’t make a sound. They poked their heads around the side of the couch. I saw their eyes bulge in shock. They both shook their heads, totally bewildered.

I pushed them back so I could see again. My head was spinning.

What on earth was our teacher doing up there? Was she hatching the egg?

What would come bursting out of it? A giant CHICKEN?!?

How weird is this?

She stared out the window. Her hands rested on top of the egg. Her sneakers dangled three feet off the floor. She seemed very comfortable up there.

We have to get out of here!

That thought repeated in my brain.

But how?

I was still holding the cat. I glanced down. It had fallen asleep in my arms. Sweet.

The cat was one thing I didn’t have to worry about — for now. How long would Mrs. H sit on that egg? Till dinnertime? Even later?

I settled against the back of the couch. I set the cat down on the floor. Then I crossed my arms and waited. My friends didn’t move, either. I think it was the longest we’d ever sat still.

The longest day of my life!

Time passed so slowly. The afternoon sun turned red as it lowered in the attic windows. I could see the evening sky and a pale, white half-moon in the skylight above us.

I heard a sound. A soft snore.

I peeked around the edge of the couch. Yes! Mrs. H was still sitting on top of the egg. But her head was down and she was snoring softly.

“She’s asleep,” I whispered to my friends.

They both sat forward. Their eyes went wide. DeWayne stretched his arms over his head.

“Think we can we sneak past her?” Daisy whispered.

“It’s our only chance,” I said.

“If we wake her up …” DeWayne’s voice trailed away.

I knew it was going to be tough. We had to walk right past the egg to get to the attic stairs.

One little sound … one quick move could wake Mrs. Hardesty.

And then we’d be caught standing there — seeing her. Seeing her hatching a giant egg!

What would she do to us?

“Take off your shoes,” I whispered. “Don’t make a sound.”

Leaning against the couch back, we tugged off our sneakers. Then, carrying them in front of us, we tiptoed toward the stairs.

I led the way, taking one step at a time.

The floor squeaked under my foot. I stopped, my eyes on Mrs. Hardesty. She didn’t raise her head.

I realized I wasn’t breathing. I sucked in a deep breath and held it. Then I continued creeping slowly forward, one step at a time.

It seemed to take hours. Finally, I was standing in front of the egg. Mrs. Hardesty’s knees were inches from my face. Two more steps and I would reach the top of the stairs.

One …

Two …

And a hand grabbed me hard by the shoulder!