Chicken Chicken by R. L. Stine Page B

scared.”
    “No way!” Jeremy protested. He wrestled the pitcher away from my brother.
Then he turned to Franny. “We’re doing it—right? We were dared, so we have to
do it—right?”
    Franny swallowed hard. “I guess,” she choked out.
    “All right!” Cole cheered, slapping them both on the back. Franny nearly
dropped her pitcher. “You can do it! Lots of kids play tricks on Vanessa. And
they don’t get squishy heads.”
    “I still think it’s mean to fill someone’s mailbox with water,” I protested.
“And it’s not worth the risk.”
    No one wanted to listen to me or my warnings.
    Franny and Jeremy tiptoed to the end of the hedge. Then they began slowly
making their way over the tall, weed-choked grass.
    They carried their plastic water pitchers in both hands in front of them. And
they kept their eyes on the tilted mailbox to the right of the front door of Vanessa’s
farmhouse.
    Cole, Anthony, and I crept out from behind the hedge to watch. I held my
breath and stared at the front window, looking out for Vanessa.
    But the glare of yellow sunlight filled the windowpane. I couldn’t see a
thing.
    Franny and Jeremy seemed to be moving in slow motion. It was taking them forever to cross the lawn to the mailbox!
    A million tiny white gnats flew over the tall grass. Swirling and dancing in
the sunlight, the gnats sparkled like jewels.
    Franny and Jeremy walked right through them. Their eyes didn’t leave the
mailbox.
    The two boys and I stepped a little closer, eager to see better.
    No sign of anyone inside the house.
    We stepped even closer.
    At last, Jeremy pulled down the metal mailbox lid. He and Franny raised their
plastic pitchers.
    They both lowered the pitchers to the mailbox.
    And poured.
    The water made a soft splashing sound as it hit the metal mailbox.
    Franny emptied her pitcher. Jeremy had nearly emptied his.
    Then the front door swung open—and Vanessa burst out.
    She wore a flowing black dress. Her straight black hair flew wildly behind her. Her black-lipsticked lips were open in an
angry cry.
    The cat screeched shrilly from somewhere in the house.
    Franny dropped her pitcher. She bent to pick it up.
    Changed her mind.
    Ran.
    Jeremy was already diving into the bushes at the far side of the house.
Franny ran close behind him.
    Cole, Anthony, and I hadn’t moved.
    We stood in the grass. Frozen. Watching Vanessa.
    I gasped when I saw Vanessa’s furious stare.
    I turned to Cole and Anthony. “Why is she staring like that at us ?” I
choked out. “Does she think we did it?”

 
 
3
     
     
    My whole body stiffened. As if Vanessa’s eyes were shooting out some kind of
laser ray.
    I forced myself to spin away. And I started to run.
    Cole and Anthony were at my sides. Our sneakers thudded heavily over the dirt
path. We kicked up clouds of dirt as we ran. A blur of green and brown, the
fields appeared to tilt and sway around me.
    We ran through town without stopping. Without saying a word. Without even looking at each other!
    Mrs. Wagner stepped out of the bakery. She started to say hello. I caught the
shocked expression on her face as the three of us ran past her without slowing
down.
    We ran until we reached my house. We burst through the gate, slamming it open
so hard, the whole fence shook. I pushed open the front door with my shoulder, and all three of us staggered into the living room.
    Gasping for breath, I dropped to my knees on the carpet.
    Cole and Anthony collapsed onto the couch.
    We struggled to catch our breath. I brushed my hair back off my sweaty
forehead. The clock on the mantel chimed. Three o’clock.
    Cole and Anthony burst out laughing.
    I narrowed my eyes at them. “What’s so funny?” I demanded breathlessly.
    That made them laugh even harder.
    “What’s so funny, guys?” I repeated. I climbed to my feet and pressed my
hands into my waist, waiting for an answer. “Why are you laughing?”
    “I don’t know!” Cole answered finally.
    “I don’t