Dave Eggers - The Wild Things

“Fine,” Carol tried to say.

Max laughed. “How much do you weigh?”

Carol tried to say “I don’t know” but it came out in a barky muffle. Max laughed harder.

“How’s it taste, that tree? Like pâté?” he said.

Carol had no idea what pâté was, but the ridiculous-sounding word caused him to laugh, and when he laughed, his teeth lost their grip, and he came plummeting down again. “Gow!” he yelled.

“Sorry,” Max said. He felt awful about the idea, and about causing Carol to fall.

“No, no!” Carol said, doing a quick dance of pain, spinning around, holding his mouth and stomping his foot. “Not your fault. It was fun. It’s just that something’s caught in my tooth or something.”

Douglas and Ira appeared. Douglas was dragging Ira by his feet, like a caveman with a bride, but backwards. Ira seemed exceedingly relaxed while being dragged, as if he were reclining on a hammock.

“Hey you guys,” Carol said, standing in front of them. “Look at this. Do I have a piece of bark in here?”

Carol approached Douglas and Ira and opened his giant wet mouth, revealing two hundred or so huge, extremely sharp teeth in three concentric rows. Douglas leaned slightly away from Carol.

“I don’t see anything,” he said. “Clean as a whistle.”

Carol looked down to Ira — who was still laying on the ground — searching for an answer.

“Nope. Clean as a whistle,” Ira said, though there was no possible way Ira could see anything from his angle. He looked up to Max and extended his hand. “We haven’t formally met. I’m Ira. I put the holes in the trees. Maybe you saw them? Or maybe not, I don’t know. Anyway, it’s what I do. It doesn’t really help anyone, like you do. It’s not crucial to the future of the world, like you are. And you probably already met Douglas. He’s the one who gets the work done around here. Indispensible. Builder. Maker. Steadier of the unsteady—”

“Hey. Focus here,” Carol said, pointing to his mouth again. “You gotta get closer.”

“Heh heh. Looks good,” Ira said. “All clear. Clean as a …”

“Yep, as a whistle,” Douglas finished. The two of them seemed to be in a terrible hurry to get away from Carol’s open mouth. “Come on, Ira, we have to go over there and … put some rocks in a pile.”

Douglas led Ira away. Watching them leave, Carol’s face hardened. Max saw all of this, concerned for Carol and the way Douglas and Ira didn’t seem to trust Carol not to eat them. As Max was trying to figure out why Carol’s good friends wouldn’t want to get close to Carol’s mouth, Carol turned to Max.

“Hey King, do I have something stuck in my teeth?” he said. He squatted down toward Max and opened his mouth.

Max peered into Carol’s mouth. “I don’t see anything.”

Carol opened his mouth wider. “Maybe you need to look farther in?”

Max, before he could think better of it, put his knee on Carol’s gum and ventured inside Carol’s mouth.

“No, no. Even farther,” Carol said.

Max went farther still, putting his knee onto the ridge of Carol’s mouth. It was wet inside, and the smell was astounding. “Whoo. You’ve got bad breath!”

“Watch it,” Carol said, laughing. “I could take your head off in one chomp.”

And now Max could see the problem. There was a piece of bark, as big as a baseball mitt, stuck between two of Carol’s back teeth. “It’s a big piece,” Max noted as he gently dislodged it. He emerged from Carol’s mouth and presented the bark like a trophy fish.

Carol looked at it, amazed at its size. “Oh wow, thanks,” he said. He held it in his hand for a while, staring at it. “Thanks, King. Really. I can’t tell you how much that means to me,” he said, and looked up to Max as if seeing him for the first time.

They were interrupted by Judith and the Bull and Alexander, who were running toward them, each of them blindfolded and carrying a dozen or so tiny cats. They were giggling like lunatics, and ran past Max and Carol and on down the hill, toward the remains of the forest. Max knew he had to follow, had to get himself a blindfold and some tiny cats, so follow he did.

There was a good deal more rumpusing done over the course of the night, all the way until the night paled into dawn and dawn tipped toward morning.

Max was becoming tired, at last, when he saw Katherine, the one who had given him the knowing smirk. She was alone, observing the mayhem from afar. Max watched her as she took everything in, processing it, a bit dismissively.

Then Max did the obvious thing: he ran up a tilted tree-trunk until he was above her, and then jumped onto her back, growling like a wolf.

Surprised, she stumbled back and fell to the ground, giggling. “I’m eating you for breakfast!” he yelled, as he pretended her stomach was oatmeal and his thumb was a spoon.

“Okay, okay,” she sighed. “Just don’t use any spices. I’m good enough as is.”

This made Max laugh, and it caused in Katherine a full-throated laugh, and the laughing aroused the attention of the rest of the beasts.

“Get over there and be social,” Judith said, pushing Alexander directly onto Max and Katherine.

Now Max was on top of Katherine, and Alexander was on top of both of them, and because there seemed to be a pile in progress, Carol came running over and jumped atop them all. Seeing where this was going, Max ducked into the pile and found a safe pocket and covered his head. Judith soon jumped aboard, and Ira followed, and finally Douglas and the Bull. Each landing shook the earth.

When they had all arrived, Max found himself in a hollow at the bottom of the pile. It was dark and furry there, but he could imagine the look of the scrum from outside — probably twelve thousand pounds of hairy flesh, piled thirty feet high.

Groans and jokes ricocheted within.

“Somebody’s leg is in my armpit.”

“Who’s drooling?”

“Drool? I thought that was ear-juice.”

“Is someone tickling?”

“Carol, that’s not funny. Don’t.”

“It is ear-juice. But it doesn’t taste like mine.”

The assemblage of bodies had created a network of Max-sized tunnels, so he began to crawl through. As he did, he felt like tickling everyone, so he did this, which turned up the volume on the laughing. It was deep, rumbling laughter, big vibrating laughter that shook the walls of the tunnels, changing them, and suddenly Max’s leg was trapped under a pile of flab and fur. He pulled at it, to no avail. He began to get claustrophobic and more than a little nervous.

In the wall of bodies, a head suddenly turned, and a pair of huge eyes opened, like two headlights coming alive. Max looked up. It was Katherine.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Max said.

“Are you all right?”

“My foot’s stuck.”

With her free arm, she pushed someone’s blubber off and reclaimed his foot for him.

“Now you owe me,” she said.

“Okay,” he said. He liked the idea of owing her.

She looked at Max, grinning for a moment. “Wow, I can’t even look at you.”

She closed her eyes tightly.

“Why?” Max asked.

Her eyes remained closed, a wide smile on her face. “I don’t know. I guess you just seem good .”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

She opened one eye, just a sliver.

“Yeah, wow. It’s almost unbearable.”

Max didn’t know what to say. Katherine opened her other eye just a bit now. “I’m getting used to it now,” she said, squinting. “But it’s like staring into the brightest light.”

Max smiled. Was there something new about him that she was seeing? His stomach was shooting all over, splitting, oozing down his legs — he liked this creature, her bright eyes and raspy voice, so much that he couldn’t control his interior.