by Susan Sundwall –

Only Teena’s eyes and nose poked out of the covers. She waited, and waited, and waited. Not a peep came from under the bed. What was taking so long?

“This isn’t working!” She threw back the covers and bounced to the floor.

“Okay, Mack,” she said, disgusted. “You tried. Come on out!”

Two eyes appeared from under the dust ruffle, one green and one yellow.

“Aww, Teena, I’m sorry,” said Mack, the shy monster of Sam, her little brother. “I couldn’t think of a good Boo.”  He dragged himself from under the bed.

“Go back to Sam,” Teena said. “He’s almost asleep, so control your tail!”

Mack slunk out, leaving a trail of purple sparkle dust. The space under the bed would be empty tonight–again. All her friends at school had exciting monster stories to share. Teena did not.

The next day she talked to her friend, Jane. “You look tired,” said Teena.

“Yeah, Clyde, the blabber mouth monster, kept me awake.”

Teena smiled. “You could use a break. Can I borrow him tonight?”

“Sure,” said Jane, “eight o’clock okay?”

That night Teena poked her nose over the covers. It was already 8:15, but so far no Clyde. Her eyes were drooping when she heard a slight rustle at the open window.

“Oooff, this window is tight,” said a voice. “Okay, heads in…Oops! Shoulders gotta go sideways.”

Teena sat up. “Oh, great,” she mumbled, “a monster who talks to himself.” Throwing back the covers she called, “Need help?”

“Ahhhh!” cried the monster.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said. “You must be Clyde.”

“Yeah…hey ya wanna gimme me a hand here? This shoulder ain’t co-operatin’.”

Teena sighed, and Clyde was relieved when she suggested he go back home.

“I hate sleepovers,” he confessed.

Next Teena tried Doofus, her cousin Lucy’s monster. His idea of scary was loud burping and a horrible stink.

“What have you been eating?” asked Teena.

“Uh…leftover cat food?”

“Out, out, OUT!!” she yelled.

The next morning Teena thumped the breakfast table so hard her juice glass slithered sideways. “I’m sick of loaners! I want my own monster,” she grumbled. The result of her fury was the following list of exact monster qualifications:

Teena’s Monster

1).   Color: yellow.

2).   NO BURPING!

3).   No fighting with Mack

4).   Leave the cat food alone!

5).   Lots of good BOOS.

“Why, I should have thought of this before,” she said. Teena taped the list to her closet door. Surely there was a monster somewhere who wanted the job.

Three agonizing weeks went by. Oh, there were glimmers of hope along the way. The first night Teena heard poof and blam under her bed, but that turned out to be the silly dust bunnies arguing over who would sleep next to her slippers. Then, nothing for two whole weeks.

On Monday of the third week her list mysteriously disappeared. Teena began to hope. On Wednesday the closet door creaked as she dozed off. She popped wide-awake, but it was only Mack, looking for the bathroom.

“Mack!” Teena hissed. “It’s at the end of the hall! Do I have to turn on a light?”

“No, don’t do that!” Mack cried.  Monsters HATE light.

By Friday night Teena’s hopes were sinking. Were all the good monsters taken? She was so depressed she almost didn’t hear it; a small far-away sound, like a train rumbling in her direction. She sat up. Was that her wallpaper moving? The sound grew. A bulge appeared in the pink and white stripes on the opposite wall and bumped along towards the electrical outlet.

“Eeeeyow! Look out! Wires! I see wires!”

Teena’s hair stood on end. She pulled the covers up.

Suddenly, in a great burst of sparks, howling, and burnt fur, a yellow (and black) monster tumbled onto Teena’s ballerina rug.

“Ga-boo!” he yelled.

Teena groaned. “Is that the best you can do?”

The monster rose up, making a horrible face. “GA-BOOOO!”

“That’s better,” Teena squeaked from way down under the covers.

“Well,” said the monster, “whaddya think?”

Teena grinned. “That was spectacular!”

Shuffling one foot in front of the other, the monster smoothed back his fur.

“Uh, nice to meet you. Trevor is the name.” He held out a slightly smoky paw. ”Sorry about the wallpaper. I’ll fix that while you’re in school tomorrow.”

“Teena,” she said. “Nice to meet you, too. Hey, you don’t burp, do you?”

“Burp? What’s that?” He flashed a green-fanged grin. “That was some list you made up, but I think I’m quite qualified,” he said with a wink and a bow.

“This could work out,” said Teena.

“Gimme a week?”

“Deal.”

“How did you get the name Trevor?” she asked.

“Oh…um, on my mother’s side we were British,” he said. “They haunted some of the better castles and….”

Teena turned out the light and snuggled in her covers. The moon shone on Trevor’s fur, and his voice grew faint. She smiled as Trevor settled into a corner, then she fell fast asleep, happy to know that she almost for sure had her own monster.

 the end.

Question Time

1. Who was under Teena’s bed at the beginning of the story?

2. Why didn’t Teena like her friend Jane’s monster?

3. What color did Teena want her monster to be?

4. How did Trevor get into Teena’s room at the end?