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    Looniverse #1: Stranger Things (A Branches Book)

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      wasn’t happy being around so

      many of them — especially when

      more and more kept coming.

      “Libby,” I said as the mice

      began to form a second layer,

      “that’s enough.”

      She didn’t hear me over the squeaking.

      One mouse doesn’t make much noise, but

      when you fill a room with mice, the squeaks

      become a roar.

      “LIBBY!” I shouted. “THAT’S ENOUGH!”

      She took the straw from her lips.

      “Enough?”

      “Yeah. The mice can’t stay,” I said.

      “Why not?” Libby asked.

      “Umm . . . The mice have to get to the

      cheese shop before it closes.” It was nice to

      know I could think quickly when I

      was almost up to my ears in mice.

      “Let them go. Okay?”

      “Okay.” She opened the front door. “Shoo.

      Go away,” she said. Then she went to her

      room. I guess all that marching had tired her

      out. The mice ran outside and scattered in

      all directions.

      But they had left behind a terrible mouse

      mess.

      That’s when Mom walked in. “Ed, what

      happened to the floor?” she asked.

      “I . . .Libby. . .the mice. . .” Unlike Derwin,

      I had a lot fewer than a thousand words, and

      none of them seemed to fit together. I sighed

      and said, “I’ll get the broom.”

      It took so long to sweep the floor clean

      that I was late for the party. Mom had

      already dropped Derwin off there. I grabbed

      my bathing suit and hurried out.

      Q

      uentin One

      I was half a block from home when I heard

      someone behind me call, “Hi, Ed!”

      It was my friend Quentin One. I had

      three friends named Quentin, so I called

      them Quentin One, Quentin

      Two, and Quentin Three.

      “Are you going to the

      party?” I asked.

      “Sure. Want a ride?”

      Quentin asked as he

      coasted past me on his

      bike.

      “No thanks.” The last time we’d tried

      that, we’d crashed.

      “I’ll see you there,” he said, giving me a

      wave.

      I was about to wave back. Then I realized

      that, even though Quentin was pedaling

      away, somehow he was still facing me. I

      hadn’t seen him turn around.

      “What in the world . . . ?”

      I thought about all the strange things that

      had happened since I’d found the coin. Could

      all this strangeness be connected to it?

      By the time I reached the hotel, I knew

      what I had to do. I pulled the coin from my

      pocket and flipped it into the bushes. Then I

      went inside, hoping things would be back to

      normal.

      Moose

      Moose is the biggest kid in our class. He’s

      also the smartest kid I know.

      He always finds unusual ways

      to solve problems.

      The party was nicely

      normal at first. We swam,

      splashed, and ate snacks.

      chapter

      6

      SHAKING UP

      IS

      HARD TO DO

      After a while, Quentin One climbed out of

      the pool. He headed for the locker room.

      Just then, Quentin Two came in, hopping

      toward the pool on his pogo stick. He

      looked a lot like Quentin One. I guess he

      also looked like Quentin Three. I’d never

      noticed that before.

      Quentin Two hopped over to me and said,

      “Hey, I saw you drop this. I’ll bet you’re glad

      you didn’t lose it.” He stopped hopping and

      held out the coin.

      “Thanks.” I was afraid

      to take it. But I was

      more afraid not to take

      it. I put it in the pocket

      of my bathing suit.

      Moose and I sat by

      the side of the pool, drinking cherry cola.

      Most of the kids had brought blow-up rafts or

      float tubes. They were bobbing on the water

      like a bunch of Halloween apples.

      “I wish we had rafts,” I told Moose.

      “It would be nice,” he said.

      “It’s your

      birthday,” I said. “I’m sure

      someone would let you borrow a raft.”

      “But then they wouldn’t have one,”

      Moose said. “There has to be a better

      answer.”

      Just then, Derwin walked past us, draining

      the last of his soda. He let out a loud burp.

      “I got it! What a great idea!” Moose leaped

      up and grabbed Derwin. “Drink this,” he said,

      handing his soda to my brother.

      Derwin slugged the soda right down:

      Gulp!

      Gulp! Gulp!

      “Give him yours,” Moose said.

      “I’m still thirsty,” I said.

      “Just give it to him,” Moose told me.

      “Quick, before he burps again.”

      “Yeah,” Derwin said. “Just give it to me.”

      I handed over my soda. I didn’t know what

      the rush was, but

      I really couldn’t

      turn Moose down

      on his birthday.

      Derwin gulped

      my soda so fast,

      it was like seeing

      bathwater vanish

      down the drain of

      a tub.

      Moose clamped a hand over Derwin’s

      mouth. Then he grabbed the back of his

      bathing suit. He lifted him up and started

      shaking him like he was

      one of those cool

      rattly things they

      use to make music

      in Mexican bands.

      Maracas — that’s it.

      Shake, shake, shake.

      MARACAS

      “Whatever you do, keep your mouth

      closed,” Moose said as he gave Derwin a

      final shake.

      Derwin’s mouth was shut tight. He started

      to swell with gas. He held his breath as Moose

      tossed him in the pool. Then Moose jumped

      onto Derwin. My brother bobbed a bit, but

      he had enough gas in his stomach to keep

      floating.

      It worked great.

      Until Derwin burped, that is.

      The moment he opened his mouth, he shot

      out from under Moose like a flyaway balloon.

      He made it halfway across the bottom of

      the pool before he ran out of gas.

      “Are you all right?” I asked when Derwin

      popped to the surface.

      “Sure. That was fun,” he said as he climbed

      out of the pool. “Let’s do it again.”

      Moose tapped me

      on the shoulder.

      “Your turn to float,”

      he said. But I

      couldn’t stay.

      “Can you walk

      Derwin home?”

      I asked Moose.

      “Sure,” he said.

      I left the hotel. I needed to find out why

      everything became so strange the moment I

      found that coin. And I knew the perfect place

      to get some answers. . . .

      “Can I help you?” Mr. Sage asked when I

      walked into the New Curiosity Shop.

      “I hope so.” I pulled the coin from
    my

      pocket and handed it to him. “Can you tell

      me anything about this?”

      chapter

      7

      CURIOUS

      AN

      SWERS

      “The Silver Center? I’ve heard stories

      about this coin, but I never believed the coin

      was real,” he said. “Oh, dear. Was it this faded

      when you found it?” He held the coin up for

      me to see.

      “No,” I said. “It looked brand-new.” The

      face of the coin reminded me of the really

      worn Buffalo nickel that

      my uncle gave me last

      year. I added “fading

      coin” to my list of

      strange experiences.

      “There isn’t much time,” he said. “You

      need to give this coin to the Stranger.”

      “I’m not allowed to talk to strangers,” I

      said.

      “Not that kind of stranger,” Mr. Sage said.

      “This is a special meaning of Stranger. If you

      don’t give this to the Stranger before the

      words fade away, the world will lose all its

      strangeness.”

      Einstein

      Picasso

      “That doesn’t sound like a bad thing,” I

      said. If there was no strangeness, I’d be more

      like everyone else. I liked that idea.

      “It would be terrible,”

      he said. “Think of all

      the great people

      who seem strange.

      Remember the

      brilliant scientist

      Albert Einstein?

      And the amazing

      artist Pablo Picasso?

      “They were both quite strange. Our greatest

      artworks and inventions happened because

      someone had a strange idea or saw a

      strange sight. Without strangeness,

      the world would be terribly dull.”

      “But things are really strange

      right now,” I said. “Too strange.”

      “That should start to settle down

      once you give the Stranger the

      coin,” Mr. Sage said.

      “Maybe you should find this

      Stranger,” I said.

      He handed the coin back to me. “No. You

      found the coin. Or the coin found you. Either

      way, the job is yours.”

      “But I still don’t know what to do,” I said.

      “Let your experiences guide you,” Mr.

      Sage said. “A task this important would never

      fall into the hands of someone who couldn’t

      handle it.”

      “I hope you’re right,” I said. I headed out.

      This was awful. I hadn’t learned a thing. And

      I sure didn’t agree with him that strangeness

      was important. On top of that, he’d given me

      a job I didn’t know how to do.

      Wait!

      I didn’t need to know who I was looking

      for! If I gave the coin to every person I met,

      one of them would have to be the Stranger.

      Mr. Sage didn’t say I’d only get one chance.

      As soon as I got home, I handed the coin to

      Derwin. “Can you hold on to this for me?”

      “Sure,” he said. “Hey, Moose said we

      should go over and see all his presents.”

      “We?” I asked.

      “Of course! You know everything’s more

      fun when I’m around,” Derwin said.

      “I guess you can come.” He could be a pest

      at times, but he was kind of fun.

      We headed toward Moose’s house. We

      were almost there when Derwin screamed,

      “Ouch! It’s hot.” He pointed at his pocket.

      “Help! Take it back!”

      I pulled the coin from Derwin’s pocket. It

      felt cold.

      “Was that a trick coin?” he asked.

      “I’m afraid so,” I said as I put it back in my

      pocket.

      When we got to Moose’s house, his older

      brother, Mouse, answered the door.

      chapter

      8

      NEED A

      LIFT?

      Everyone calls him “Mouse” because he’s

      nowhere near as big as Moose. Mouse. doesn’t

      come up with wild ideas like Moose, but he’s

      stronger than Moose and he loves to talk.

      There was a huge package on Moose’s

      front porch.

      “Moose,” Mouse called, “you got something.”

      Moose came to the porch. “Oofff!” he said

      as he lifted the package.

      Derwin looked at Moose and said, “I wish

      I was as strong as you.”

      “What about me?” Mouse said. “I’m

      stronger than Moose. I can lift anything.”

      He grabbed Moose by the legs and lifted both

      him and the package straight up.

      “I’ll bet you can’t lift yourself,” I said.

      “Sure I can,” Mouse said. He put his

      brother down, squatted, and jammed his

      hands behind his knees.

      “Stop!” I said. “I was joking.”

      “Oofff!” Mouse grunted as he lifted.

      “Wow.” That was about all I could say as I

      watched Mouse lift himself up in the air.

      “Let go,” I told him.

      “I can’t,” Mouse said. “If I let go, I’ll fall

      and get hurt.”

      He was five feet up, and still rising.

      Moose rushed under his brother and held

      out his arms. “Just let go,” he said. “We’ll

      catch you.”

      Mouse shook his head.

      I leaped up and tried

      to grab Mouse’s

      feet, but he

      was too high.

      “I know,”

      Derwin said. He

      ran to the garage,

      and came back with a

      piece of rope. “Catch!”

      he called to Mouse as

      he threw one end of the rope up in the air.

      Mouse caught the rope with his teeth.

      Derwin, holding on to the other end, started

      to rise. Mouse was now lifting both of them

      into the air.

      “Help me!” Derwin shouted.

      Moose and I grabbed

      the rope right above

      Derwin’s hands

      and started pulling.

      It was a real battle,

      but between us,

      we managed to get

      Derwin all the way

      down, and Mouse

      close to the ground.

      “Thanks,” Mouse said.

      This was one time when good manners

      were a bad idea. When Mouse spoke, the rope

      fell out of his mouth. I guess that startled

      him, because he lifted himself even harder

      and shot right back up.

      Derwin threw him the rope again, and

      Mouse chomped his teeth on it just like he

      did before. We all pulled. When Mouse was

      almost down, I warned him, “Don’t say

      anything this time.”

      “I won’t,” he said.

      Out came the rope. Up went Mouse.

      We tried again. This time, I looked at

      Moose, and Moose looked at Derwin, and

      Derwin looked at me. Then we all looked

      up at Mouse and shouted, “Don’t open your

      mouth, Mouse!”

      That worked. We got him back down.

      Once his feet were on the ground, he finally

      stopped lifting. Mouse wasn’t as smart as

      Moose, but he did learn things s
    ooner or

      later.

      Moose opened the heavy package. It was

      a set of barbells.

      I didn’t stay long. I had too much to think

      about. As I walked home, I touched the coin.

      I still didn’t know who to give it to. And I

      didn’t like the idea that Mouse and Derwin

      could have gotten hurt today. Strangeness

      could be dangerous.

      I checked the coin again right before bed.

      The words were almost totally faded. If I

      wanted to let the world lose all its strangeness,

      I wouldn’t have long to wait. But if I was going

      to find the Stranger, I had to do it soon.

      A strange sound woke me Sunday morning.

      I looked across at my five goldfish. Each

      one swam to the bottom,

      picked up a piece of gravel

      in its mouth, and spat it

      out — hard — at the glass

      sides of the bowl.

      chapter

      9

      DIG DOG

      It looked like

      they were trying

      to break free.

      When I have

      a tough problem

      to solve, I like

      to sit under the old

      apple tree in the

      backyard and think.

      So I headed out back.

      PING!

      PING!

      PING!

      PING!

      PING!

      Rex and Willow

      were there. I watched

      Rex dig a hole. When

      he was finished, he

      used his teeth to

      grab Willow by the

      scruff of the neck. I

      expected her to hiss

      and scratch. But she purred so loudly, I could

      hear her from halfway across the yard.

      Rex dropped Willow in the hole.

      “What are you doing?” I asked.

      He ignored me, turned around, and kicked

      the dirt back in.

     


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