My Hairiest Adventure by R. L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page B

decided to tell Dad
everything. About the bottle of INSTA-TAN. And about the black hair that kept
sprouting.
    As I talked, I kept my eyes straight ahead. I saw two big crows float down
from the clear blue sky and perch side by side on the bare limb of a tree. The
crows cawed loudly, as if talking to us.
    The lake sparkled brightly as Dad and I followed the curving path around it.
Small patches of ice bobbed in the blue-green water.
    I started at the beginning and told the whole story. Dad slowed down a little
more to listen. But we kept jogging as I talked.
    I told him about finding the bottle of tanning lotion and how we all splashed
it on ourselves as a joke. Dad nodded but kept his eyes straight ahead. “I guess
it didn’t work,” he said, sounding a little breathless from running. “You don’t
look too tan, Larry.”
    “No, it didn’t work,” I continued. “The bottle was really old, Dad. It had
expired a long time ago.”
    I took a deep breath. The next part was the hardest to tell. “It didn’t give
me a tan, Dad. But something really weird started happening to me.”
    He kept jogging. We both leaped over a fallen tree branch. I slipped over a
pile of wet leaves, but quickly caught my balance.
    “This weird hair started growing on me,” I told him in a shaky voice. “First
on the back of my hand. Then on both hands. Then on my knees.”
    Dad stopped. He turned to me with a worried expression on his face. “Hair?”
    I nodded, breathing hard. “Black hair. Thick clumps of it. Very rough and
spikey.”
    Dad swallowed hard. His eyes grew wide. With surprise? With fear? With
disbelief?
    I couldn’t tell.
    But to my surprise, he grabbed my arm and started to pull me. “Come on,
Larry. We’ve got to go.”
    “But, Dad—” I started, holding back.
    He tightened his grip and pulled harder. “I said we’ve got to go !”
he insisted through gritted teeth. “Now!”
    He tugged so hard, he nearly pulled me off my feet!
    “Dad—what’s wrong?” I demanded in a high, shrill voice. “What is it?”
    He didn’t answer. He pulled me back along the path toward the street. His
eyes were wild. His whole face was twisted into a tight, frightened scowl.
    “Dad—what’s wrong?” I cried. “Where are you taking me? Where?”

 
 
17
     
     
    Dr. Murkin raised the hypodermic needle and examined it in the light. “Turn
away, Larry,” he said softly. “I know you don’t like to watch. This won’t hurt
at all.”
    Pain shot through my arm as the needle sank in. I shut my eyes and held my
breath until he pulled out the needle.
    “I know it’s early,” he said, rubbing my arm with a cotton ball dipped in
alcohol. “But since you were here, I thought I’d give you your shot.”
    My dad sat tensely in a folding chair against the wall of the small examining
room. He had his arms crossed tightly over the front of his sweatshirt.
    “Wh-what about the hair?” I stammered to Dr. Murkin. “Did the INSTA-TAN—”
    The doctor shook his head. “I really don’t think tanning lotion can cause
hair to grow, Larry. Those lotions work on the pigments of the skin. They—”
    “But it was a very old bottle!” I insisted. “Maybe the ingredients turned sour or something!”
    He waved his hand, as if to say, “No way.”
    Then he turned and started scribbling notes in my file. “I’m sorry, Larry,”
he said, writing rapidly in a tiny handwriting. “It wasn’t the tanning lotion.
Trust me.”
    He turned his head to me, his eyes studying me. “I’ve examined you from head
to foot. You passed every test. You seem fine to me.”
    “Whew! That’s a relief!” Dad said, sighing.
    “But the hair—!” I insisted.
    “Let’s wait and see,” Dr. Murkin replied, his eyes on my dad.
    “Wait and see?” I cried. “You’re not going to give me any medicine or
anything to stop it?”
    “Maybe it won’t happen again,” Dr. Murkin said. He closed my file. Then he
motioned for me to jump down from