Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7 At church on Sunday, Chet went out of his way to say hi to the guys. They seemed relieved that he wasn't mad anymore. And the truth was, he really wasn't, now that he understood how it was with pranks — and now that he had a genius plan for getting them back. "Come swimming with us today," Sid called as he helped his mother into their buggy. "We'll be there right after lunch."

"Sure!" Chet called back. "I'll meet you!" Uncle Jerry patted him on the back. "That's the way, kiddo," he said. "There's no room in a small town for grudges." Chet was dying to tell Uncle Jerry about his idea. But Chet kept his mouth shut, worried that his uncle might tell someone and spoil the plan. He saw Minnie Marston as he was leaving the churchyard. She waved to him and smiled, like she wanted him to go up and talk to her. For months last spring Chet had prayed that Minnie would look in his direction. But now? He didn't have time for girls, not even Minnie. He had to get to the creek before the guys. He waved to Minnie and headed home. Uncle Jerry was going to the diner to take care of some bookkeeping, and Chet headed home to change. He grabbed the bag he'd packed that morning. Inside was a bottle of ketchup, one of his old work boots, and the white cap he always wore at work — everything he needed. He hurried to the creek, which was completely quiet, and went straight to work. His plan had two parts. First, he wanted to make the guys think he'd been attacked and

dragged, bloody and screaming, into the creek. He dribbled some ketchup along the dock — a trail of blood. He put his boot in the middle of the dock and covered it with ketchup. He did the same to his cap. Chet stood back and admired his work. So far, so good. Now Chet took off his undershirt and trousers and kicked off his boots. He hid them in the tall grass. Then he went to the wettest part of the bank. He scooped up handfuls of the slimiest mud he could find and smeared it onto his face, his arms, and his chest. He used extra mud to cover his head so that no hairs poked through. He had no idea what the Creek Devil was supposed to look like, but he was pretty sure it didn't have orange hair. Chet was just finishing when he heard voices. The guys! Chet closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he let out the biggest, loudest scream he could muster. He screamed like he was terrified, like he was in agony. And then he splashed loudly into the creek, careful not to wash off the

mud. He screamed some more, and then waded into the reeds and hid. "Chet?" Sid called. "That you?" Chet didn't answer. He couldn't see the guys, but he heard their heavy breathing and their panicky voices. "Where is he?" "Is that his boot?" "What the…" "Oh, my God," Sid whispered. "Is that blood?" Chet held his breath. Would they really fall for it? Could this actually work? "Chet?" Sid called. "Chet, you there?" Chet had to puff up his cheeks to keep from bursting out laughing. "Isn't that Chet's cap?" Dewey whispered. A few seconds went by. "What's happening?" Monty said quietly. They were falling for it! Now it was time for part two. Chet gave a low hiss, remembering what Mr. Colton had said about the sound the Creek Devil made before an attack. "What the heck was that?" Dewey said, his voice shaking.

"Quiet!" Sid said. "Should we go get someone?" Dewey said. "HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS." Chet was impressed by how spooky he sounded. Next he started to moan, low at first, and then louder. "OOOOOOMMMMMMMOOOOOO." He poked his head through the reeds, not all the way through, just enough for the guys to catch a glimpse of a hideous head covered with black slime.

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