Horrid Henry and the Mummy's Curse (6 page)

He gasped and panted. Thank goodness. Safe at last! He’d never ever go swimming again.

“Five meters!” bellowed Soggy Sid. “You’ve all failed your badges today, except for—Henry!”

“Waaaaaaahhhhhh!” wailed the other children.

“Whoopee!” screamed Henry. “Olympics, here I come!”

Tiptoe. Tiptoe. Tiptoe.

Horrid Henry crept down the hall. The coast was clear. Mom and Dad were in the garden, and Peter was playing at Tidy Ted’s.

Tee hee, thought Henry, then darted into Perfect Peter’s room and shut the door.

There it was. Sitting unopened on Peter’s shelf. The grossest, yuckiest, most stomach-curdling kit Henry had ever seen. A brand-new, deluxe “Curse of the Mummy” kit, complete with a plastic body to mummify, mummy-wrapping

gauze, curse book, amulets, and, best of all, removable mummy organs to put in a canopic jar. Peter had won it at the “Meet a Real Mummy” exhibition at the museum, but he’d never even played with it once.

Of course, Henry wasn’t allowed into Peter’s bedroom without permission. He was also not allowed to play with Peter’s toys. This was so unfair, Henry could hardly believe it. True, he wouldn’t let Peter touch his Boom-Boom Basher, his Goo-Shooter, or his Dungeon Drink kit. In fact, since Henry refused to share
any
of his toys with Peter, Mom had forbidden Henry to play with any of Peter’s toys—or else.

Henry didn’t care—Perfect Peter had boring baby toys—that is, until he brought home the mummy kit. Henry had ached to play with it. And now was his chance.

Horrid Henry tore off the wrapping and opened the box.

WOW! So gross! Henry felt a delicious shiver. He loved mummies. What could be more thrilling than looking at an ancient, wrapped-up DEAD body? Even a pretend one was wonderful. And now he had hours of fun ahead of him.

Pitter-patter! Pitter-patter! Pitter-patter!

Oh help, someone was coming up the stairs! Horrid Henry shoved the mummy kit behind him as Peter’s bedroom door swung open and Perfect Peter strolled in.

“Out of my way, worm!” shouted Henry.

Perfect Peter slunk off. Then he stopped.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “You’re in
my
room! You can’t order me out of my own room!”

“Oh yeah?” blustered Henry.

“Yeah!” said Peter.

“You’re supposed to be at Ted’s,” said Henry, trying to distract him.

“He got sick,” said Peter. He stepped closer. “And you’re playing with my kit! You’re not allowed to play with any of my things! Mom said so! I’m going to tell her right now!”

Uh oh. If Peter told on him, Henry would be in big trouble. Very big trouble. Henry had to save himself, fast. He had two choices. He could leap on Peter and throttle him. Or he could use weasel words.

“I wasn’t playing with it,” said Henry smoothly. “I was trying to protect you.” “No you weren’t,” said Peter. “I’m telling.”

“I was too,” said Henry. “I was trying to protect you from the Mummy’s Curse.”

Perfect Peter headed for the door. Then he stopped.

“What curse?” said Peter.

“The curse that turns people into mummies!” said Henry desperately.

“There’s no such thing,” said Peter.

“Wanna bet?” said Henry. “Everyone knows about the mummy’s curse! They take on the shape of someone familiar but really, they’re mummies! They could be your cat—”

“Fluffy?” said Peter. “Fluffy, a mummy?”

Henry looked at fat Fluffy snoring peacefully on a cushion.

“Even Fluffy,” said Henry. “Or Dad. Or Me. Or you.”

“I’m not a mummy,” said Peter.

“Or even—” Henry paused melodramatically and then whispered, “Mom.”

“Mom, a mummy?” gasped Peter.

“Yup,” said Henry. “But don’t worry. You help me draw some Eyes of Horus. They’ll protect us against…her.”

“She’s not a mummy,” said Peter.

“That’s what she wants us to think,” whispered Henry. “It’s all here in the mummy curse book.” He waved the book in front of Peter. “Don’t you think the mummy on the cover resembles you-know-who?”

“No,” said Peter.

“Watch,” said Horrid Henry. He grabbed a pencil.

“Don’t draw on a book!” squeaked Peter.

Henry ignored him and drew glasses on the mummy.

“How about now?” he asked.

Peter stared. Was it his imagination or did the mummy look a little familiar?

“I don’t believe you,” said Peter. “I’m going straight down to ask Mom.”

“But that’s the worst thing you could do!” shouted Henry.

“I don’t care,” said Peter. Down he went.

Henry was sunk. Mom would probably cancel his birthday party when Peter blabbed. And he’d never even had a chance to play with the mummy kit! It was so unfair.

Mom was reading on the sofa.

“Mom,” said Peter, “Henry says you’re a mummy.”

Mom looked puzzled.

“Of course I’m a mummy,” she said.

“What?” said Peter.

“I’m your mummy,” said Mom, with a smile.

Peter took a step back.

“I don’t want you to be a mummy,” said Peter.

“But I am one,” said Mom. “Now come and give me a hug.”

“No!” said Peter.

“Let me wrap my arms around you,” said Mom.

“NO WRAPPING!” squealed Peter. “I want my mommy!”

“But I’m your mummy,” said Mom.

“I know!” squeaked Peter. “Keep away, you…Mummy!”

Perfect Peter staggered up the stairs to Henry.

“It’s true,” he gasped. “She said she was a mummy.”

“She did?” said Henry.

“Yes,” said Peter. “What are we going to do?”

“Don’t worry, Peter,” said Henry. “We can free her from the curse.”

“How?” breathed Peter.

Horrid Henry pretended to consult the curse book.

“First we must sacrifice to the Egyptian gods Osiris and Hroth,” said Henry.

“Sacrifice?” said Peter.

“They like cat guts, and stuff like that,” said Henry.

“No!” squealed Peter. “Not…Fluffy!”

“However,” said Henry, leafing through the curse book, “marbles are also acceptable as an offering.”

Perfect Peter ran to his toy box and scooped up a handful of marbles.

“Now get me some toilet paper,” added Henry.

“Toilet paper?” said Peter.

“Do not question the priest of Anubis!” shrieked Henry.

Perfect Peter got the toilet paper.