They Call Me Creature Read Online Free PDF Page A

the perfect time.
    Dad kept a padlock on the door. But I knew where he hid the key. I crept back into the kitchen and pulled the key from the little cup where Mom used to keep her Sweet’n Low packets.
    Then I sneaked back outside. I felt a chill of fear as I stepped up to the shed. I could hear the animals inside, groaning, crying. It sounded as if they were pleading with me to rescue them.
    â€œI’m coming,” I whispered.
    But I wheeled away from the door when I heard another sound.
    A low growl. And then the pounding thud of heavy footsteps.
    Running. Running rapidly toward me.
    I was too startled to move. I froze as the big creature appeared from around the side of the shed.
    It took a powerful leap. Leaped high. Caught me at the shoulders.
    And knocked me hard to the ground.

 

    â€œGeorgie!” I cried. “Get off! Get off me!”
    Tail wagging furiously, the big dog pinned me to the ground and licked my face. His hot breath steamed my cheeks. I was laughing too hard to roll away from him.
    â€œGeorgie—stop!” I pleaded. “Are you lonely out here? Is that the problem?”
    Finally I pushed him away. I sat up and wiped the thick slobber off my cheeks.
    A light washed over me. I turned to the window and saw the kitchen lights on. The back door swung open. Dad poked his head out. He held his pajama bottoms up with one hand and squinted into the yard. He didn’t have his glasses on.
    â€œLaura?” Dad called, his voice clogged with sleep. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”
    â€œThere were lights,” I said. “In the woods. And I heard some kind of rumbling sound. I—I wanted to see what it was.”
    Dad scratched his forehead. His graying hair was sticking out all over his head. “You were probably dreaming,” he said, frowning.
    â€œNo. It was real,” I insisted. “The lights were moving around the trees, and—”
    â€œCome inside,” he said. He squinted at me. “You weren’t trying to sneak into the shed, were you?”
    â€œNo. Of course not,” I lied. I had the padlock key wrapped tightly in my fist.
    For a moment his stare turned cold. I felt as if his eyes were stabbing me. “Come inside,” he repeated. “I don’t want to hear about lights in the trees. I’m tired.”
    I sighed and slumped into the house. I could see there was no point in trying to talk to him.
    Once Dad went upstairs I slipped the key back into its normal place. I glanced out the kitchen window and stared at the shed. I could still hear the mournful cries. Suddenly I knew where I could find some answers.
    The animal hospital.
    I’ll go see Dr. Carpenter at the animal hospital tomorrow, I decided. I know she and Dad aren’t talking, but that doesn’t mean I can’t talk to her.
    She’ll tell me the truth about Dad. I know she will.
    After school the next day I loaded up my backpack, pushed my way through a crowd of kids, and ran out the front door of the school building.
    It was about a two-mile walk to the animal hospital, and I wanted to get there before Dr. Carpenter left for the day.
    The animal hospital was tucked in a cul-de-sac at the other side of the woods. It was an enormous two-story white stucco building with a steeply sloping red roof.
    It had started as a small, square building and had quickly grown. Now it had endless wings, annexes, and research labs, stretching in all directions into the woods.
    Inside, it looked more like an old hotel than a hospital. The long halls twisted and turned and seemed to stretch for miles. The doors were made of black oak and creaked when you opened them. The walls were painted dark green. A crystal chandelier hung over the waiting room, which was furnished with old brown leather armchairs and sofas.
    Since it didn’t look like an animal hospital, it was always surprising to hear the barks and yowls and chirps of the