The Enchanted Creeper, page 4
So here’s what I started thinking:
Maybe I could use the Fire Aspect enchantment with something OTHER than a sword. Like an experiment—a SCIENCE experiment. I mean, Fire Aspect would come in really handy for, say, a knife. Or a spatula. Or a FORK.
YES! I could see it already: a fork that burned ANY food to a crisp. I could make crispy little potatoes in a flash. I’d whip up Mom’s apple crisp for dessert, just by plunging my Flaming Fork into an apple! And I could have burnt porkchops—my favorite food—for EVERY meal of every day.
When my stomach growled, I knew I was on to something. Sure, the enchanted pencil had been cool. And breathing underwater might be pretty fun for SOME creep. But the Flaming Fork? This was my best idea YET.
As soon as I got home this morning, I dug through the kitchen drawers looking for the perfect tool. But Mom had pretty much cleaned those drawers right out. There were like seven forks lined up in a row—one for each of us, and I guess one for Aunt Constance. Seven spoons. Seven knives.
I COULDN’T take one of those. Mom would be on to me in a flash.
So I went to the only part of the house that still had STUFF—Dad’s garage. I think he’s been napping out there lately, since Mom got rid of the couch in the living room and replaced it with a few pillows and cactus plants.
While Dad snored from a cot in the corner, I searched through his rusty bins and buckets. And I found the PERFECT tool. It’s this big fork with a long handle, like something you could use to roast hot dogs on a campfire.
And since I was out in the garage, I decided to do a little enchanting too. Fork in one side of the anvil, book in the other, and VOILA! The Flaming Fork was born. And it works!
How do I know? Because that was an hour ago, and I’m already STUFFED with burnt, crispy things. (Burp.)
Everything I touch with that fork turns into flaming deliciousness. In fact, when I was coming out of the garage, Chloe pelted me with a chicken egg. And guess what? I touched my Flaming Fork to the egg running off my boot, and it fried right up. I ate it off the fork, right in front of Chloe’s eyes. HA!!!
She turned three shades of green and blew sky high. Which means that my NEW science project is WAY better than hers.
Yup, my 30-day plan is back on track. Maybe instead of staying OUT of Mom’s way, I’ll even give the gal a hand in the kitchen on Thanksgiving. Because THAT’s the kind of son I am.
DAY 21: WEDNESDAY
So it’s official: my Flaming Fork improves the taste of EVERYTHING.
I was sitting at lunch last night, and all I could smell was the stench from Ziggy Zombie’s rotten-flesh sandwich. So when he wasn’t looking, I pulled my Flaming Fork out of my backpack. As I touched the soggy flesh hanging from the side of that sandwich, I tried not to hurl.
When flames shot up from his sandwich, Ziggy sure looked surprised. And he wasn’t all that happy about his meat being cooked. (I think zombies prefer things raw and runny.) But I’ll tell you what: my fork sure took care of that smell!
I even used my Flaming Fork to improve the hot lunch they were serving in the cafeteria. “Meatloaf,” the menu on the wall read. But between you and me, I’m pretty sure Ms. Wilma, the cafeteria lady, sneaks a little rotten flesh into her meatloaf.
So when she was serving some kid a sloppy pile of mashed potatoes, I snuck over to the warming plate in the cafeteria line. And I gave a few of those meatloaf slices a makeover with my Flaming Fork.
Well, the mobs in line behind me RAVED about that meal. All of a sudden, bag lunches started getting thrown in the trash, and kids lined up for rotten-flesh meatloaf.
So I’m for sure going to help Mom make her Thanksgiving meal tomorrow. She and Aunt Constance will be BLOWN AWAY by my cooking skills. Maybe they’ll help me sell my Flaming Fork to restaurants across the Overworld. Maybe I’ll be awarded Top Chef on a cooking show. Maybe I’ll have my OWN show someday!
Yeah, the science fair is just the start. This Flaming Fork is going to earn me a jukebox for sure—and a one-way ticket to Fame and Fortune. I can hardly wait to stick a fork in things tomorrow and get STARTED.
DAY 22: THURSDAY
“It’s Thanksgiving, Gerald,” Mom keeps saying. “Be grateful for what you HAVE.”
But all I can think about is what I just LOST. My Flaming Fork!
It was RIGHT THERE on my dresser when I went to bed this morning. But sometime during the day, when everyone else was sleeping, Mom crept around and did one last clean. She took my fork, stuffed it in a cardboard box, and drove it down to the Creeper Charity donation center. NOOOOOO!!!!!
“We HAVE to go get it!” I’ve been saying ever since I woke up.
But Mom says the fork is long gone. “The truck was pulling away when I got there,” she said. “It’s halfway to the Nether by now, Gerald.” She SURE didn’t seem very sorry for what she’d done.
I tried to tell her how much I needed that fork—and how much SHE needed that fork. “I was going to HELP you with Thanksgiving dinner. My Flaming Fork would have made everything taste better. It even made ROTTEN FLESH better,” I boasted. “So just think what it would have done for YOUR cooking!”
For some reason, Mom didn’t appreciate that comment. She said that Aunt Constance was going to show up ANY minute now, so I’d better “adjust” my attitude.
“You can make a new Fire Fork tomorrow,” she said.
A WHAT now?
She could at LEAST get the name of my genius invention right. And there was NO WAY I could make another Flaming Fork by tomorrow. I mean, that was the ONLY cool fork in the whole house! And I’d already used my Fire Aspect enchantment. Where was I supposed to get another one?
Ideas flew through my mind like fireballs. Could I …
• enchant a book at SCHOOL? Nope. School was closed till Monday.
• FISH for an enchanted book? Not without Willow’s lucky pole, and she’s not big on sharing with me, I gotta say.
• search for enchanted books in TREASURE CHESTS? Nope. Chests + abandoned mineshafts + cave spiders does NOT equal a good time.
• TRADE for an enchanted book in the nearest human village? Um, NO. We drove through Humanville during a family road trip last summer, and those humans didn’t exactly put out their welcome mats for us creepers.
So it turns out, my not-so-genius ideas were more like chicken eggs than fireballs. One by one, they all ended with a CRACK and a SPLAT.
And the doorbell just rang, which means Mom is going to poke her head in here any second now and ask me to set the table—with a bunch of lame little forks that do NOT burn food to a crisp.
So I’ve got two choices: I’ve either got to give my attitude an “adjustment,” or leap through my open window and head for the hills.
DAY 23: FRIDAY
Well, I didn’t run for the hills.
I mean, I WANTED to get out of the house. But then I caught a whiff of roasted potatoes. And it WAS Thanksgiving, after all. So I decided to get a hot meal in my belly before planning my next move.
Now, I’m not gonna lie. The Thanksgiving meal would have been a WHOLE lot better if I’d made it with my Flaming Fork. The potatoes would have been crunchier. The mushroom stew would have been bubblier. The apple crisp would have been crispier. And those porkchops would have been even more burnt—black as coal.
Dinner also would have been better if Aunt Constance hadn’t been looking down her nose at the meal—and at the kitchen, and at every room in our house, and at all of us—since she got here.
No wonder Mom’s been prepping for this visit for almost a month. Her big sister is one snooty creeper, with a capital S. Mom kept offering her more food, but Aunt Constance was all like, “I don’t think so. I’ve had quite enough, thank you very much.”
I almost felt sorry for Mom, but then I remembered what she’d done with my science project—and I felt MORE sorry for me. Especially when day broke, and we all crept off to bed.
Well, MOST of the family went to bed. Aunt Constance slept in Mom and Dad’s bed, because Mom said that one was comfiest. Cate and Chloe slept in Cate’s bed, and Mom slept in Chloe’s bed. It was like this huge game of musical chairs, except with beds. And guess who got left without a chair—er, a bed?
MOI. Gerald Creeper Jr.
Because somehow, Gerald Creeper SENIOR got to sleep in MY bed. And while he was snoring in there, his feet hanging right off the end, I was lying on the cold hard floor of the living room, where a couch USED to be. I told Mom there was NO WAY I could sleep out there, and you know what she said? She said maybe I could use that “awake” time to get some of my homework done.
SERIOUSLY??? Somehow she knows I’m falling behind. Moms have a sixth sense about that stuff.
Well, I didn’t exactly dive into my homework, but I did bring a book on enchantments into the living room. I needed ideas for how to make a new Flaming Fork in time for the science fair. But I read that book cover to cover (well, I looked at all the pictures anyway). And I came up with ZERO big ideas.
So I tried to sleep, I really did. But every time I rolled over, I got poked with a cactus needle. That made me think of Sam, bouncing off cacti in his enchanted chest plate. And about the armor he’s making for Moo. And about how Willow said I should let Sam use MY anvil for enchanting that armor. Yup, those thoughts popped along, one after another, like minecarts on a track. And guess where that track led?
To an IDEA. Maybe not a genius one, but hey, I’ve had worse.
I decided to ask Willow if I can borrow her enchanted fishing rod. It’s my best chance at getting some enchanted books this weekend. And if the Luck of the Sea enchantment works for ME as well as it worked for her, one of those books MIGHT give me the Fire Aspect enchantment for a new Flaming Fork.
I think Willow will say yes. Why? Because I’m going to BRIBE her with a favor for Sam. If she lets me use her Luck of the Sea enchantment, I’ll let Sam use my anvil to make enchanted booties for Moo. That cat will be walking on water in no time.
So now that I have a plan, I’m going to try to catch a few ZZZs. I mean, I HOPE I can catch a few here on the living room floor. But something sharp just poked me in the butt, so … it’s not looking good.
If you need me, I’ll be right here, counting sheep—and cactus prickers.
DAY 25: SUNDAY
So Willow loaned me her fishing rod tonight. She didn’t even make a fuss about it, probably because she couldn’t care LESS about enchantments. Guess what her science fair project is going to be? An experiment to PROVE that her precious potions are better than enchantments. SHEESH. She just won’t let that one go.
Anyway, Sam came fishing with me, but I made him leave Moo at home. I said I wanted to take my dad’s old rowboat out to deep water, where I’ve heard you can find the BEST treasures. And you know, Moo doesn’t really swim. (She can’t walk on water just yet either—not till Sam enchants those LAME little booties.)
“Doesn’t your dad’s rowboat have a leak?” Sam asked.
Sometimes I wish that slime didn’t have such a good memory.
“Well, YEAH,” I said. But I figured we’d catch a few enchanted books before we had to worry about THAT. I mean, Willow’s fishing rod was practically glowing with good luck!
By the time we got to the middle of the lake, there was a LITTLE bit of water in our boat. Sam was getting all nervous and jiggly about it, but I said it was no big deal. I mean, the slime lives at the swamp. Is he really worried about getting his feet wet?
Anyway, I cast my line and crossed my own wet toes, hoping for an enchanted book—HOPING for the Fire Aspect enchantment.
And when that bobber sunk, tugging at the end of my fishing rod, my heart nearly leaped right out of my chest. I jerked back on the rod, and out popped … a BOOK! Yes!
I reeled it in and wiped the cover off on my leather vest. Then I read the fine print: CURSE OF BINDING.
Um, curse of WHAT now?
Sam sucked in his breath. I thought he was scared of the curse, but he was actually staring down into the boat, where water was GUSHING in.
What happened next was a total daymare. The boat tilted in Sam’s direction. (Big surprise there. I mean, the slime weighs a TON.) And as we plunged into the water, I lost my grip on Willow’s fishing rod. I hollered at Sam to grab it, and then I took a deep breath and went under.
This might be a good time to mention that I’m NOT a great swimmer. I mean, I can creep my way through the water. And I was pretty speedy with those Depth Strider boots on.
But Sam and I were in deep water now, and I could barely even SEE the shore. So I did what any creep would do. I climbed onto my best friend’s back and held on for dear life.
Turns out, Sam floats like a pufferfish. As I rode him like a raft to shore, I’d never been more THANKFUL to have a slime for a friend. Especially when we got to shore and he announced that he’d managed to save IT before we went under.
“The fishing rod?” I asked. Thank GOODNESS. I’d never hear the end of it if I lost Willow’s enchanted rod.
But it wasn’t the fishing rod. Nope. Sam had saved my enchanted BOOK instead. The one with the curse. The curse that I’m pretty sure just about drowned us.
GREAT.
We were supposed to enchant Moo’s booties after fishing, but I told Sam I was WAY too wet and freaked out to do any enchanting tonight. And when I read up on the Curse of Binding at home, I got even MORE freaked out.
I guess when you enchant something with the Curse of Binding, you can NEVER let go of that thing. Not EVER—at least not until the thing breaks. Or you die. Whichever comes first.
What kind of a lousy enchantment is THAT???
I threw the book on a shelf in the garage and cursed my own terrible luck. I mean, the science fair is on Friday—five days from now. I don’t have a project. I don’t have any ideas. I don’t have time to come UP with ideas. I don’t even have time to get my REGULAR homework done.
And you know what else? I still don’t have a BED to sleep in. I guess Aunt Constance has decided to stay a few extra days. GREAT.
Mom doesn’t seem very happy about that, either. Maybe it’s because Aunt Constance keeps making snippy comments, like how SMALL the house is, and how DRAFTY it seems with the windows open, and how there’s nowhere to SIT in the living room, and how it’s weird to have a SHEEP in the backyard.
“You can go back to your OWN place anytime,” I want to remind her. But kids aren’t allowed to say things like that.
So I’m trying to keep my trap shut. I’m actually DYING to go back to school tomorrow—even though my homework’s not done. Because maybe, just MAYBE, I can enchant a book with Fire Aspect tomorrow in Enchantment Class.
It’s my only hope of getting that jukebox now.
And a creeper’s gotta hang on to something, right?
DAY 27: TUESDAY
You know, I don’t think I’ve been giving Ziggy Zombie the respect he deserves. Turns out, I may still have a shot at winning the science fair, and I have ZIGGY to thank for it.
See, I went to school last night hoping to enchant a book with Fire Aspect in Enchantment Class. But that didn’t really pan out, because Mrs. Collins picked THAT class to start teaching us about anvils. We didn’t even USE the enchantment table!
While other kids oohed and aahed over the anvil, I stared longingly at the books on the shelves. If only I could enchant every single one. I’d get the Fire Aspect enchantment for sure! Then I could march right home and enchant a fork—any old fork would do right now.
Sam kept nudging me, asking when we were going to use MY anvil to enchant Moo’s booties. “The science fair is FRIDAY,” he said. But he didn’t have to remind me. That fair was all I could think about.
On the way home from school, I told Sam that if I could JUST get that Fire Aspect enchantment, I’d finish up my project—and be able to help him with his.
We’d been taking the longer, safer way home ever since Bones and his gang of rattlers had started using us for target practice. We walked ALL the way around the running track, where Ziggy Zombie was usually jogging or limping or squatting, checking out his blisters.
So this morning, Ziggy overheard us talking about the Fire Aspect enchantment. And he looked up and said, “Why don’t you trade for an enchanted book in the village?”
Ziggy is the only mob I know who goes to the village like ALL the time. He loves scaring villagers, especially at Halloween. He probably still had a bunch of Jack o’ Lanterns rotting at home, left over from his favorite holiday.
Anyway, I told Ziggy that I wasn’t a big fan of going to the village. And he said, “Why not? I’ll go with you!”
Well, normally I would have shot that offer right down. I mean, I like Ziggy and all, but I try not to hang out with him TOO much. The blisters and rashes and rotten-flesh sandwiches kind of get to me, if you know what I mean.
But this morning, I actually said MAYBE I would go. I NEED that enchanted book. And Ziggy said that in the village, you can actually choose the book with the EXACT enchantment you want—if you have enough emeralds, that is.
I told Ziggy I had to go check my piggybank.
Then I asked if he could go with me to the village today. I mean, there’s no time like the present, right? And since I was sleeping in the living room these days, it’d be easy for me to sneak out. No one would even know I was gone.
But I’d forgotten something: zombies can’t be out in the daylight. I guess the sun burns their skin. And THAT’s when I had one of my big ideas—a way to go to the village with Ziggy today, get my enchanted book, and have my new Flaming Fork by TONIGHT.
