Goosebumps Most Wanted #5: Dr. Maniac Will See You Now (12 page)

Andy set the breakfast plates on the table. Dad grinned. “I win. I got the biggest breakfast.”

“But my eggs are the yellowest,” Darleen said. It wasn’t funny, but Mom and Dad both laughed.

“I don’t
want
to be a different kid when I come back,” I said. “I just want to be me.”

Darleen gave me a hard shove. “Who would want to be
you
?” she said. Again, my parents laughed as if that was the funniest joke in the world.

“Hey, I see the boat!” Darleen pointed out the window. “I saw it first! I saw it first!”

I turned and saw a white boat, moving fast toward us, bouncing on the blue-green water.

The heavy feeling in my stomach was now a huge rock. “Dad, this isn’t fair,” I said. “I’m two days late to this camp. It already started. The other kids will have a total advantage over me.”

He swallowed a mouthful of eggs. “That’s good for you, Tommy,” he said. He waved his fork at me. “You’ll just have to be even tougher.”

“Hey, I finished first!” Mom cried. She showed off her empty plate.

She usually wins the fast-eater prize.

Dad dropped some money on the table and we hurried outside.

Seagulls screeched and flapped above the little boat as it bobbed up to us. A young man appeared on the deck and leaned over to tie a thick rope around the post on the dock.

His long brown hair fluttered in the wind beneath a red baseball cap turned backwards. He had short brown stubble on his cheeks and wore ragged denim cutoffs and a red-and-blue camp T-shirt with the word
Winner
across the front.

He gave me a salute. “Are you Tommy?”

I nodded.

“Welcome aboard. I’m Jared. Jump on. Let’s go to Winner Island.”

A sharp wave made the boat bounce and tug at the rope.

My family gathered around me. Mom wiped a smudge of egg off my chin.

“Let’s say good-bye to the
old
Tommy,” Dad said. “Can’t wait to see the
new
Tommy.” He patted my shoulder. “Let’s see who can hug him the hardest.”

“No, please —” I started.

Too late. Darleen grabbed me around the waist. She tightened her arms around me with all her strength.

I heard a
craaaaack
. Pain shot up and down my body.

“My ribs!” I cried. “You
broke my ribs
!”

Groaning in pain, I hobbled onto the boat. Dad handed my duffel bag to Jared. He shoved it inside the cabin.

I gazed around, looking for other passengers. But of course, I was the only passenger. Camp started two days before. We were late because my parents insisted on competing in a barbecue championship in Santa Fe.

The little boat bobbed from side to side. Jared pointed me to a bench seat at the back. “I know it’s a lake, but it gets a little rocky, dude,” he said. “Don’t throw up on the boat, okay? Only losers throw up on the boat.”

“Okay,” I said, dropping onto the bench. “No problem.”

He disappeared around the cabin to the front. A few seconds later, the motor started up with a roar. The boat bobbed away from the dock.

I waved to my family. They waved back. I knew they were about to have their race to the car.

They vanished from view as the boat scooted over the lake. The late morning sun sent gold ripples on the gentle waves. The water sparkled all around me. Above the boat, chattering seagulls followed us for a while. Then they gave up and turned back toward land.

Hypnotized by the shimmering gold in the water, I just sat and stared for a long while. My family seldom takes boats anywhere. Mom and Dad say they are too slow. But I found it relaxing to bob on the gentle waves and smell the fresh air.

I saw a stack of camp brochures beside me. I picked one up. It snapped me out of my relaxed mood. I gazed at a photo of the camp director, Uncle Felix. He was bald and kind of mean-looking, with narrow slits for eyes. He had a red bandanna around his neck.

I read another quote from Uncle Felix:

At my camp, you won’t just win, you’ll win BIG-TIME. We EAT LOSERS for breakfast at Winner Island.

“Whoa,” I muttered. I tossed the brochure to the floor.

“It’s just another sports camp trying to sound different,” I told myself. “And my parents totally fell for it.”

I wondered if they had tennis. Tennis and swimming are my best sports. My parents started giving me tennis lessons when I was about as tall as the racket. I’m not a great player. But my forehand is as good as my backhand.

I pulled out my phone. I tried to text my friend Ramon back home. Then I saw that I had no bars. I remembered what the brochure said — no phone or Internet anywhere near Winner Island.

R.L. Stine’s books are read all over the world. So far, his books have sold more than 300 million copies, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written the teen series Fear Street and the funny series Rotten School, as well as the Mostly Ghostly series, The Nightmare Room series, and the two-book thriller
Dangerous Girls.
R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and Minnie, his King Charles spaniel. You can learn more about him at
www.RLStine.com
.