Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9 The next two days at the diner, Chet kept waiting for the guys to come in. Every time the door opened, he looked up, hoping to see them elbowing each other to be first to the counter. They never even walked by. Chet kept trying to work up the nerve to go and find them, and finally on Wednesday he was ready. It was another scorching day, the hottest yet. After the lunch rush was over, Uncle Jerry

decided to close the diner early. All the ice in the restaurant had melted. The milk had curdled. You could just about cook a flapjack on the kitchen floor. "I'm going home to stick my head under the water pump," Uncle Jerry said. "Then I'm going to swing in our hammock until the sun sets." Chet said good-bye to Uncle Jerry and headed for the creek, sure he'd find the guys playing ball in the water. But the swimming hole was quiet. Chet realized they were still at the factory. Their shift wouldn't be over for an hour. While he was waiting, he noticed that there were still splotches of ketchup on the dock. They looked even more like blood now, like evidence of a gruesome crime. He decided to try to clean them before the guys got here, to erase all reminders of his prank. He undressed and jumped into the creek. Then he splashed water up onto the dock, hopped out of the water, and scrubbed the stains with a handful of leaves. It took three rounds of splashing and scrubbing to clean it up.

By then Chet was so hot that he decided to take a longer swim. It was peaceful here without everyone splashing and shouting. He floated on his back under the trees, remembering how Papa had taught him to swim in the Mississippi, how Mama sat on the banks waving and clapping. He had turned to swim back to the dock when — crash, he hit something under the water. Or something hit him. Hit him so hard in the chest he couldn't breathe. What was that? An old dock plank? A snapping turtle? Had Sid sneaked up on him and smacked him? The water around him looked funny, like it was filled with red smoke. Chet looked down in shock. His entire chest was scraped and oozing blood. What could have done that to him? A cold terror rose up inside him. He suddenly had the feeling that someone — or something — was nearby, watching him. And then he saw it. A gray fin.

It glistened in the bright sun as it glided slowly toward him. He had to be seeing things. Or could this be another prank? Were the guys getting him back? But no, this was no tile. As it got closer, Chet could see the dark shape of an enormous fish, bigger than him. Even bigger than Uncle Jerry. Two black eyes peered up through the water. Chet's heart stopped.

Killer eyes.

Chet took off toward the shore, pounding through the water, kicking with all his might. Finally his feet touched the bottom. He was running now, his heart hammering, a voice booming through his mind. Get out of the water! Get out of the water! Get out of the water! Almost there — just a few more steps! He dove forward, landing hard in the dirt. He rolled onto his side and stared in disbelief: It was a shark, a massive shark — dirty gray on top and pure white underneath. Its jaws snapped open and closed. The teeth, jagged and needle sharp, were bigger than Chet's fingers, lined up in rows and curving inward. The shark thrashed, as if it was trying to push itself up onto the bank. Chet wanted to get up and run. But he was frozen to the ground. Those killer eyes stared unblinkingly at Chet. And then, with a flick of its tail, the shark thrust itself backward into the water. It hovered for a second on the surface. Then, with a whoosh of its tail, it disappeared back down the creek.