Edward Lee - Monster Lake

So instead, she did what she felt was the right thing.

She told the truth.

“I was curious,” she told Uncle Chuck. “You and Mom spend so much time down there, I was curious. And—”

Again, she hesitated. If she told him about the toad she’d seen last night, or the giant salamander, he might not believe her. He’d think she was telling lies, and that would just get her in more trouble than she was already in.

“I was just curious,” she repeated.

Uncle Chuck looked down at her. His face looked made of stone, and his foot never stopped—

tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap

“I have a mind to call your mother at work right now and tell her what you’ve done, and the only reason I won’t is because it would upset her,” he said. “She’s very busy at work, and she works very, very hard, and since your father left, she has to work even harder to pay the bills and to keep food in the refrigerator and a roof over your head. It’s not easy for her, you know, and you just make it that much harder for her when you do things like this. That’s pretty selfish of you, isn’t it? That’s pretty darn inconsiderate of you.”

tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap

“And,” he continued, “do you have any idea how disappointed she’d be?”

Suddenly there were tears in Terri’s eyes. She felt smaller than a lima bean right now. She knew her mother worked hard to keep the house and everything, and the last thing in the world Terri would ever want to do was disappoint her mother. All at once, she never felt more ashamed of herself.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap

Uncle Chuck seemed to be cooling down a little now, though. “I want you to understand something, Terri. When your mother or I tell you to do something, or in this case, when we tell you not to do something, there’s always a good reason. And the reason is this: we told you not to go to the boathouse because it’s very dangerous for a girl your age down there. That pier is old. One of the planks could break, and you could break your ankle, or worse, you could fall in the water and drown. And there’s a lot of computers and electrical equipment in the boathouse; you could get an electrical shock and have to go to the hospital, or you could even die. Plus, there’s a lot of chemicals and things in the boathouse that are dangerous.”

Chemicals.

That reminded Terri of something. Those bottles, she thought. Those stinky bottles full of green and yellow gunk…

Was that what Uncle Chuck meant? Those tall, glass bottles she’d seen on the metal shelves?

“Anyway,” Uncle Chuck went on. “You’re going to your room now, and you’re going to spend the rest of the day there.”

Terri sniffled. “Am I grounded?”

“I don’t know, that’s up to your mother, not me. Go on now. Go to your room, and I don’t want to hear a single peep out of you, do you understand?”

Terri nodded. Then she got up from the table, her eyes still cast down to the floor, and she went to her room.

««—»»

Each minute seemed to tick by like an hour, and suddenly Terri’s room felt like a prison. I’ll go nuts cooped up in here all day long, she dreaded. Summer was almost over, and whenever she looked out her window, she could see what a beautiful day it was, and all that did was depress her even more. I could be outside playing badminton or doing something with Patricia, or—well, anything. Anything’s better than sitting in my room all day.

And, of course, once Uncle Chuck told her mother about catching her in the boathouse, she’d probably be grounded for the next week, or maybe even the next month…

And she didn’t even want to think about that.

But there were other things—scary things—that she had no choice but to think about: the toad she’d seen last night, the giant salamander, and all those other animals in the back room of the boathouse—all with long, sharp fangs.

Sitting on her bed, Terri pulled out some of her Golden Nature books. She had the whole series: Flowers, Trees, Rocks and Minerals, Mammals, Birds, and, the one she was most interested in now, Reptiles and Amphibians. These were great books that were informative and easy to read, plus they had lots of pictures; her father had given her the entire set of books as a Christmas present several years ago, because Terri had told him that she wanted to be a zoologist when she was older, just like him and Mom.

Amphibians, the book’s introduction began, are a special kind of animal that include frogs, toads, and salamanders. Amphibians are cold-blooded, which means that their body temperature varies with the weather, and they hibernate during the winter when it’s cold. Amphibians breathe air like most animals but they are unique because they can live in the water too, because that is where they lay their eggs, and they need to keep their skin wet. In fact, that is how amphibians drink water, they absorb it through their skin. Amphibians eat insects, moths, and worms…

Terri already knew this; she quickly turned through the pages to “Toads.” She wanted to double-check her facts. Maybe there were some rare kinds of toads that had fangs and ate animals instead of insects and worms.

The book also told about how toads laid eggs in ponds and fresh-water lakes—sometimes they laid as many as 20,000 eggs at a time—and that they slept during the day and only came out at night to feed. Terri already knew all about this too; this wasn’t the information she was looking for.

But then—

I knew it, she thought.

The book plainly stated that toads, however rare, had no teeth; instead, they had big, sticky tongues which shot out of their mouths to catch insects to eat. And the book also stated that American toads never grew larger than six inches long. The toad she’d seen last night was over a foot long! And so were the ones she’d seen in the glass tanks when she’d snuck into the backroom at the boathouse.

Then she turned to the “Salamanders” chapter and discovered the same thing. Salamanders never grew to be more than ten or so inches long, and Terri was sure the one she and Patricia had seen on the pier was easily three-feet in length, and the ones she’d seen in the glass tanks were huge too. And salamanders didn’t have teeth or fangs either. Like toads and frogs and all other amphibians, salamanders ate insects. In fact there was a special word for that, Terri noted. According to the book, toads, frogs, and salamanders were called insectivores , which meant that they only ate insects and worms.

But the toad I saw last night, she felt certain, was trying to eat that baby rabbit. And rabbits definitely aren’t insects! They’re mammals!

All these things, all these facts and details, only mystified Terri more. And she knew now that there was no way her eyes could have been playing tricks on her. Patricia had seen the salamander too.

Terri didn’t know what to do.

She wished she could call Patricia, but how could she? Uncle Chuck had confined her to her room all day, and he was in the house.

clack!

Terri glanced up. The sound she’d just heard was familiar, and after a moment’s thought, she knew what it was.

It was the sound of the back sliding door closing.

She went quickly to her bedroom window, which faced the back yard, and she saw—

What’s he doing? she wondered.

Her Uncle Chuck was walking across the yard.

Maybe he’s going to mow the grass, Terri considered, but that couldn’t be, could it? He’d have to go out front to the garage first, because that’s where they kept the lawnmower.