Cheryl’s green eyes became slits and her nose wrinkled.
“Where’d you find that?” she asked.
Sandy didn’t use her hands. She picked it up with something from the kitchen that her mom used to grab things out of the oven.
“On Wesley St., over near the old rail tracks.”
“Why’d you go over there?”
“Billy Thompson promised he’d give me a quarter if I went.”
“Billy Thompson! Ew..he’s so gross.”
“Is not. He told me that he’d be my friend and let me ride his bike anytime I wanted.”
“Did you get the quarter from him? Bet you didn’t.”
“Did…well, he said he’d give it to me later. But he’s gonna give it.”
“So what is that thing?”
“Don’t know, but it’s alive.” Sandy shook her hand holding the kitchen clampy thing and the blob let out a string of sounds.”
“Ain’t a mouse.” Cheryl said moving in for a closer exam.
“No, not a mouse.”
“It’s got no feet or legs or arms or hands or ears or eyes.”
“Does have an eye.”
“I don’t see no eye.”
Sandy dumped her pencil box onto the desk and then dropped the thing into the empty box. She turned the desk lamp on and it shone like a spotlight onto the dark green blob. “See. That’s an eye.”
“Did you touch it?”
“Hell no,” Sandy said. “Billy did, and it left a big green stain on his hand. Said it burned like acid. I think he was making that part up. I did see the green on his hand, though.”
Cheryl picked up one of the pencils and poked at it.
“I’m gonna keep it.”
“What? Like a dog or something?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Cause you don’t know what it is.”
“You don’t know what to feed it. It’ll die without food.”
“Maybe it don’t eat.”
“Everything eats. Maybe it’ll eat you.”
“Maybe I’ll sneak it in your bed and it’ll eat you.”
“I’m tellin’ mom.”