Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10 As Dylan's gnashing teeth closed, there was only one way for Charlie to go: further into Dylan's mouth. Dropping off the apple, he landed on Dylan's tongue. It was like riding a fleshy wave– the tongue was rippling and thrashing, throwing Charlie all over the place. Saliva gushed around him in a sticky rushing tide. Chunks of apple battered and buffeted Charlie as he clung on for dear life but finally a big lump smacked him squarely in his worm-face, knocking him clean off the tongue in a swirling spiral of saliva. Blind terror clutched at Charlie as he was pulled– no, swallowed– down Dylan's throat. He desperately tried to swim back up but it was impossible; he was caught in a great surging current of saliva and apple bits, while the muscly tube of fleshfn1 surrounding him was squeezing and contracting, creating unstoppable waves. Down he was squeezed, down he

was pulled, and down he was washed in a dark, rolling tide. And Charlie knew where he was heading. He had paid enough attention in science lessons to know that at the end of this journey was the stomach. And the stomach was full of acid. And that was how he was going to die– dissolved into nothing in Dylan's stomach. Unless… No. He couldn't. Could he? Maybe… if… if he changed back into a boy right now, Charlie might just survive. But Dylan definitely wouldn't. If Charlie changed while he was still inside Dylan… Well, the less said about that the better, but rest assured Dylan would most definitely have a very, VERY sticky end. And with a sinking feeling, Charlie realized he could never, ever do that, not even to his mortal enemy. He had no choice but to accept his acidy fate. Charlie's eyes had become accustomed enough to the dark to see he was approaching a fleshy valve, flapping open and closed. It was the entrance to the stomach. Charlie stopped struggling and allowed himself to be dragged down to his doom. The great valve snapped open and Charlie landed with a tiny plop in the soup of acidy stomach juices and semi-digested food.

He waited for the burning, agonizing death. But it didn't come. Instead… 'Morning!' came a cheery voice. 'Morning!' came another, equally cheery, voice. 'Hello! New down here, are you?' came yet another cheery voice. Voices? That I can understand? That can only mean one thing, Charlie thought. There must be more worms in here! 'Hello!' Charlie called back. 'So worms can survive in stomach acid, can they?' 'Oh yes!' called back another worm. 'It's lovely! Like a warm bath!' Charlie had to agree– it was exactly like swimming in a warm bath. Not at all what he'd expected. Slowly, Charlie began to be able to make out the pale wriggling shapes of other worms. Lots of other worms. 'So how many of you are down here?' Charlie asked.

'Well, including you, ninety-seven thousand, four hundred and twenty-six,' replied a worm. 'No,' replied another worm. 'You're still counting Delbert 237. He died.' 'Oh! You're quite right. Poor old Delbert 237. So that means you're number ninety-seven thousand, four hundred and twenty-five.' Charlie couldn't quite believe how many worms there were in Dylan's stomach.fn2 'What's your name?' a worm called out. 'Charlie,' replied Charlie. 'Oh, that makes you Charlie 1921!' 'There are 1,920 other worms down here called Charlie?' asked Charlie in amazement. Before any worms could answer though, the walls of Dylan's stomach suddenly contracted, creating huge waves in the juices. All the worms whooped and cheered, and Charlie had to admit that it did remind him of swimming in the local pool when the wave machine was turned on. Only the excited yells of the worms gave it more of a party feel. 'Come on, Charlie! Swim with us!' Charlie started swimming in the waves, and realized he was rather enjoying himself. But deep down, he knew he couldn't stay. He had to somehow get back to his friends. 'Does anybody know how to get out of here?' 'Get out?!' exclaimed one worm. 'Why would you want to do that? Stay!' 'That's right!' called another worm. 'Stay!'

'Stay!' all the worms started shouting. 'Stay and play!' Playing didn't sound half bad to Charlie. Maybe it would be OK to stay just a bit longer… No, Charlie thought, trying to snap himself out of it. I can't forget who I am! 'I can't! I have to go!' 'Oh what a party-pooper!' 'Yes! What a spoilsport!' 'Maybe we shouldn't tell you the way out!' 'No, don't tell him! Stay down here and play with us! Come play with us, Charlie… forever!' 'And ever!' 'And ever!' Charlie was beginning to realize that the worms were going to be no help. He was going to have to find his own way out. Charlie thought back to the plastic model of the human body that he'd been given for his birthday a couple of years ago. The way out of the stomach was the intestine! That long, twisting tunnel was his escape route. He just had to find the opening.

It has to be down, thought Charlie, so he began swimming down, through the bubbling sludge. 'Don't go!' shouted the worms. 'Stay!' 'We'll have such fun! Stay with us, Charlie!' 'Stay!' 'Staaaay… Plaaay…'