Revenge of the Lawn Gnomes by R. L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page B

something grabbed my ankle.
    Frantically, I shook my leg. Tried to break free.
    But it held on.
    And pulled me down.
    Down into the whirling darkness.
    A snake.
    No. Not a snake. The garden hose. The garden hose that I had forgotten to
roll up after watering the lawn that night.
    Get a grip, Joe. I told myself. You have to calm down.
    I pulled myself up and staggered forward. Squinting hard. Trying to see my
way. Shadowy figures seemed to reach for me, bend toward me.
    I wanted to turn back. And go inside. And climb into my nice, dry bed.
    Yes. That’s what I should do, I decided.
    I turned slowly.
    And heard a shuffling sound. The soft thud of footsteps. Nearby.
    I listened closely.
    And heard the sounds again. Footsteps as light as the mist.
    I was breathing hard now. My heart pounding. My bare feet chilled and wet.
The dampness creeping up my legs. My entire body shuddered.
    I heard a raspy cackle. A gnome?
    I tried to turn. Tried to see it in the billowing blackness.
    But it grabbed me from behind. Hard around the waist.
    And with a dry, evil laugh, it threw me to the ground!

 
 
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    As I hit the wet ground, I heard the low, evil laugh again.
    And recognized it.
    “Moose?”
    “Scared you big time!” he muttered. He helped me to my feet. Even in the fog,
I could see the big grin on his face.
    “Moose—what are you doing out here?” I managed to cry.
    “I couldn’t sleep. I kept hearing weird sounds. I was staring out into the
fog—and I saw you. What are you doing out here, Joe? Causing more trouble?”
    I wiped wet blades of grass from my hands. “I haven’t been causing the
trouble,” I told him. “You’ve got to believe me. Look—the two lawn gnomes—they’re gone.”
    I pointed to the deer. Moose could see that the gnomes weren’t standing in
their spots.
    He stared for a long time. “This is a trick—right?”
    “No. It’s for real. I’ve got to find them.”
    Moose frowned at me. “What did you do, hide the ugly little creeps? Where are
they? Come on, tell me!”
    “I didn’t hide them,” I insisted.
    “Tell me,” he repeated, leaning over me, bringing his face an inch from mine.
“Or suffer the Ten Tortures!”
    Moose shoved his huge hands hard against my chest. I fell back and landed in
the wet grass again. He thumped down on my stomach and pinned my arms to the
ground.
    “Tell me!” Moose insisted. “Tell me where they are!” Then he bounced up and
down on top of me.
    “Stop!” I gasped. “Stop!”
    He stopped because lights flashed on in both of our houses.
    “Oh, wow,” I whispered. “We’re in major trouble now.”
    I heard my front door bang open. A second later, Moose’s door opened, too.
    We froze. “Keep quiet,” I whispered. “Maybe they won’t see us.”
    “Who’s out here?” my father called.
    “What’s going on, Jeffrey?” I heard Mr. McCall shout. “What’s all the noise
out here?”
    “I don’t know,” my dad replied. “I thought maybe Joe…” His voice trailed
off.
    We’re safe, I thought. We’re hidden by the fog.
    Then I heard a low click. The long, thin beam of a flashlight swept across
the yard. It settled on Moose and me.
    “Joe!” Dad screamed. “What are you doing out there? Why didn’t you answer
me?”
    “Moose!” Mr. McCall shouted in a deep, angry voice. “Get in here. Move it!”
    Moose climbed up and raced into his house.
    I hoisted myself up from the grass for the second time that night and slowly
made my way inside.
    Dad crossed his arms tightly across his chest. “You woke us up twice tonight!
And you’re outside in the middle of the night again! What’s wrong with you?”
    “Listen, Dad, I only went outside because the gnomes are missing! Check,” I
begged. “You’ll see!”
    My father glared at me with narrowed eyes. “These gnome stories are getting
out of hand!” he snapped. “I’ve had it! Now go upstairs. Before I ground you for
the entire summer!”
    “Dad, I’m begging you.