My Teacher Is an Alien Read Online Free PDF Page B

why did you have to come hereI
     
    I heard Peter sigh beside me. "Isn't it wonderful?" he asked, swinging his arm up and out to indicate the entire sky. "Don't you want to go there?"
    "You've been reading too much science fiction," I said. "Come on—let's get this over with."
    Sharp leaves scraped against our faces as we pushed our way through the hole in the hedge. On the other side we dropped to our hands and knees and crawled across the lawn. Even though we were
     
    pretty sure Broxholm wasn't home, we didn't want anyone else to see us and interrupt our mission. The lawn was drenched with dew. By the time we reached the porch the knees of my pants were soaked through and I was freezing.
    "How are we going to get in?" whispered Peter.
    Good question! It may sound stupid, but I had been so worried about what we were doing that I hadn't thought about how to do it.
    "I don't know," I hissed back. "How do people usually break into places?"
    Peter looked at me in disgust. "How would I know?" he asked. "I'm not a burglar."
    "Well, neither am I!" I snapped.
    I closed my eyes. Fighting wasn't going to get us anywhere. "Let's circle the house," I said. "Maybe we'll find an open window or something."
    We crept along the side of the house. As Peter played his flashlight over the windows I felt thankful for the hedge that masked us from the street.
    "Nothing on this side," he whispered.
    "Check down low," I said. "Maybe one of the cellar windows is open."
    But they were all sealed shut.
    Peter gestured toward the back of the house.
    Just around the back corner we found one of those slanting cellar doors. It was padlocked shut.
    But the wood was half-rotted, and when Peter shook the lock, the whole thing came loose in his hand. He set it aside and carefully lifted the door. It creaked for an eternity as it came open. I found myself staring down into a well of perfect blackness.
    "Dark," I whispered.
    "Sure is," said Peter.
    Then he took a step forward.
    I followed him, wondering if Broxholm had booby-trapped the place. Then I wondered what kind of booby traps an alien would use: lasers that would cut us off at the knees? Stun guns? Freeze rays? Hey, these guys had come here from another star system. Who knew what they could do?
    We walked down eight concrete steps. At the bottom we came to a wooden door so old it had a latch instead of a knob. Peter lifted the latch and pushed. Nothing. He put his shoulder against the door and shoved again. It swung open with an eerie creak.
    "After you, madam," he whispered.
    "Well, at least shine your flashlight in there," I hissed.
    He pointed his beam through the door. I couldn't see anything special—just a dusty cellar, the kind you'd expect in an old house.
    "Let's go together," I whispered.
    Peter took pity on me, and we stepped through the door side by side.
    "I don't think we're going to find anything down here," he said, shining his light around the cellar. I agreed. Except for the furnace, the stairs up to the first floor, and the cobwebs, the space was completely empty.
    Without speaking, he headed for the stairway. I ran into a cobweb. I shivered when the wispy, clinging threads brushed over my forehead.
    "You don't suppose Broxholm has any friends here, do you?" whispered Peter when we were about halfway up the stairs.
    I stopped. "I don't think so," I said after a minute. "He didn't mention any when he was talking to the guy in the spaceship."
    Peter nodded. But he had managed to make me even more nervous than I had been to begin with. What if there was another alien here? What would he do if he caught us snooping around?
    "Where to?" asked Peter when we reached the top of the stairs.
    "Let's try the kitchen," I said, remembering his idea about alien food.
    But when we opened the refrigerator, all we saw were a bunch of cold cuts, a half-empty carton of milk, a bottle of catsup, and two six packs of beer.
    "He sure doesn't eat like an alien," said Peter. "Are you sure this guy is from