Read Online 28 - The Cuckoo Clock of Doom by R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead) - Free Book Online

had to find out how much time I had left.
    I grabbed the bars of the crib and pulled myself to my feet.
    Okay, I thought. I can stand.
    I took a step. I couldn’t control my leg muscles very well. I toddled around
the crib.
    I can walk, I realized. Unsteadily, but at least I can walk.
    I must be about one year old!
    I fell just then and banged my head against the side of the crib. Tears
welled in my eyes. I started wailing, bawling.
    Mom ran into the room. “What’s the matter, Mikey? What happened?”
    She picked me up and started patting me on the back.
    I couldn’t stop crying. It was really embarrassing.
    What am I going to do? I thought desperately. In one night, I went back in
time three years!
    I’m only one year old now. How old will I be tomorrow?
    A little shiver ran down my tiny spine.
    I’ve got to find a way to make time go forward again—today! I told myself.
    But what can I do?
    I’m not even in nursery school anymore.
    I’m a baby!

 
 
20
     
     
    Mom said we were going out. She wanted to dress me. Then she uttered the
dreaded words.
    “I bet I know what’s bothering you, Mikey. You probably need your diaper
changed.”
    “No!” I cried. “No!”
    “Oh, yes you do, Mikey. Come on…”
    I don’t like to think about what happened after that. I’d rather block it out
of my memory.
    I’m sure you understand.
    When the worst was over, Mom plopped me down in a playpen—more bars—while
she bustled around the house.
    I shook a rattle. I batted at a mobile hanging over my head. I watched it
spin around.
    I pressed buttons on a plastic toy. Different noises came out when I pressed
different buttons. A squeak. A honk. A moo.
    I was bored out of my mind.
    Then Mom picked me up again. She bundled me into a warm sweater and a dopey little knit cap. Baby blue.
    “Want to see Daddy?” she cooed at me. “Want to see Daddy and go shopping?”
    “Da-da,” I replied.
    I’d planned to say, “If you don’t take me to Anthony’s Antiques, I’ll throw
myself out of my crib and crack my head open.”
    But I couldn’t talk. It was so frustrating!
    Mom carried me out to the car. She strapped me into a baby seat in the back.
I tried to say, “Not so tight, Mom!” It came out, “No no no no no!”
    “Don’t give me a hard time now, Mikey,” Mom said sharply. “I know you don’t
like your car seat, but it’s the law.” She gave the strap an extra tug.
    Then she drove into town.
    At least there’s a chance, I thought. If we’re going to meet Dad, we’ll be
near the antique store. Maybe, just maybe.
    Mom parked the car outside Dad’s office building. She unstrapped me from the
car seat.
    I could move again. But not for long. She pulled a stroller out of the trunk,
unfolded it, and strapped me in.
    Being a baby really is like being a prisoner, I thought as she wheeled me
across the sidewalk. I never realized how awful it is!
    It was lunchtime. A stream of workers flowed out of the office building. Dad appeared and gave Mom a kiss.
    He squatted down to tickle me under the chin. “There’s my little boy!” he
said.
    “Can you say hi to your daddy?” Mom prompted me.
    “Hi, Da-da,” I gurgled.
    “Hi, Mikey,” Dad said fondly. But when he stood up, he spoke quietly to Mom,
as if I couldn’t hear. “Shouldn’t he being saying more words by now, honey? Ted
Jackson’s kid is Mikey’s age, and he can say whole sentences. He can say
‘lightbulb’, and ‘kitchen’, and ‘I want my teddy bear.’”
    “Don’t start that again,” Mom whispered angrily. “Mikey is not slow.”
    I squirmed in my stroller, fuming. Slow! Who said I was slow?
    “I didn’t say he was slow, honey,” Dad went on. “I only said—”
    “Yes you did,” Mom insisted. “Yes you did! The other night, when he stuffed
those peas up his nose, you said you thought we should have him tested!”
    I stuffed peas up my nose? I shuddered.
    Sure, stuffing peas up your nose is stupid. But I was only a baby.