Read Online Two-Thousand-Pound Goldfish by Betsy Byars - Free Book Online
Authors: Betsy Byars
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the worn tile floor.
The hospital was old. Warren glanced up. Across the high ceiling ran plumbing pipes, painted the same green as the walls and ceiling. Down the hall an elderly man was waiting in a wheelchair to be pushed to his room.
Warren and Weezie sat on straight chairs in the small waiting room. Weezie was holding a worn issue of McCall’s, but she had not opened it.
Warren was concentrating on not thinking about his grandmother, because every time he thought about her—he could not help it—his mind jumped straight to the graveside and her funeral.
He was genuinely glad no one could read his mind. They would be shocked to discover that while everyone else was worrying about his grandmother’s health and praying for her recovery, he was imagining meeting his mother at her funeral. He was shocked himself.
To change his thoughts he looked around the room. This hospital would not be a bad setting for a movie. Of course it would have to be abandoned, the halls unlighted, the small waiting room empty of furniture.
Perhaps some sort of radioactive creature could break into the deserted hospital, attracted by the pull of the old X-ray machines, needing a fix. It could be some sort of snakelike creature that would weave through the ceiling pipes and drop down on people.
The thought caused him to shudder, and instantly Weezie put her arm around him. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he said. He shrugged off her comforting arm, which he knew he did not deserve.
“The doctor should be out soon.”
“Good.”
He rested his head on the back of the chair and looked up at the ceiling. Maybe the pipes themselves could come to life, he thought. That would be original.
Pipes coming alive didn’t seem likely, of course, but his friend Eddie claimed he had once seen a horror movie about a car. A car came alive and went around running people down! Eddie swore it was the truth.
Convinced he was on the right track, Warren continued. The pipes would have been activated by old radioactive waste material that hospital officials had been illegally disposing of for years through the plumbing. Not bad, he thought.
It would have to be a very quick thing, sort of catch the audience by surprise. First one pipe would began to quiver—this would be the beginning of the movie—and then one length of the pipe would crack and snap off and fall to the floor.
In a sort of metallic frenzy, like a fit—the viewer would just see a blur here—the pipe would undergo a transformation and grow a tail and a head. The mouth would be a zigzag line that snapped open and shut, the eyes would light up, and the tail would have rattles.
Killing these pipes would be next to impossible. Bullets would be out. Poisonous gas, useless. Dynamite would blast them into little pieces, but then the little pieces would activate and start snapping their jaws again. The best scientific brains in the nation would meet to—
But he was getting ahead of himself. Back to the beginning of the movie. One pipe would form into this snakelike creature, and then another and another until finally an army of pipe snakes would be upstairs in the hospital hall.
The night watchman would be the first to learn of their existence. He would be at his station, sipping a little booze, listening to the radio, when suddenly he would hear this terrible clattering noise echoing through the empty halls.
“If I didn’t know better,” he would mutter, getting slowly to his feet, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think something metal was coming down the stairs. Well, it’s probably nothing, but I’d better go check.”
There would be alternating shots of the old night watchman climbing up the stairs and the pipes coming down. With each shot of the night watchman, the noise would be louder.
“What is that?” he would ask, more and more puzzled. He would shine his flashlight up the stairs, peering into the darkness.
Then he would see them, the pipe snakes, their
The hospital was old. Warren glanced up. Across the high ceiling ran plumbing pipes, painted the same green as the walls and ceiling. Down the hall an elderly man was waiting in a wheelchair to be pushed to his room.
Warren and Weezie sat on straight chairs in the small waiting room. Weezie was holding a worn issue of McCall’s, but she had not opened it.
Warren was concentrating on not thinking about his grandmother, because every time he thought about her—he could not help it—his mind jumped straight to the graveside and her funeral.
He was genuinely glad no one could read his mind. They would be shocked to discover that while everyone else was worrying about his grandmother’s health and praying for her recovery, he was imagining meeting his mother at her funeral. He was shocked himself.
To change his thoughts he looked around the room. This hospital would not be a bad setting for a movie. Of course it would have to be abandoned, the halls unlighted, the small waiting room empty of furniture.
Perhaps some sort of radioactive creature could break into the deserted hospital, attracted by the pull of the old X-ray machines, needing a fix. It could be some sort of snakelike creature that would weave through the ceiling pipes and drop down on people.
The thought caused him to shudder, and instantly Weezie put her arm around him. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he said. He shrugged off her comforting arm, which he knew he did not deserve.
“The doctor should be out soon.”
“Good.”
He rested his head on the back of the chair and looked up at the ceiling. Maybe the pipes themselves could come to life, he thought. That would be original.
Pipes coming alive didn’t seem likely, of course, but his friend Eddie claimed he had once seen a horror movie about a car. A car came alive and went around running people down! Eddie swore it was the truth.
Convinced he was on the right track, Warren continued. The pipes would have been activated by old radioactive waste material that hospital officials had been illegally disposing of for years through the plumbing. Not bad, he thought.
It would have to be a very quick thing, sort of catch the audience by surprise. First one pipe would began to quiver—this would be the beginning of the movie—and then one length of the pipe would crack and snap off and fall to the floor.
In a sort of metallic frenzy, like a fit—the viewer would just see a blur here—the pipe would undergo a transformation and grow a tail and a head. The mouth would be a zigzag line that snapped open and shut, the eyes would light up, and the tail would have rattles.
Killing these pipes would be next to impossible. Bullets would be out. Poisonous gas, useless. Dynamite would blast them into little pieces, but then the little pieces would activate and start snapping their jaws again. The best scientific brains in the nation would meet to—
But he was getting ahead of himself. Back to the beginning of the movie. One pipe would form into this snakelike creature, and then another and another until finally an army of pipe snakes would be upstairs in the hospital hall.
The night watchman would be the first to learn of their existence. He would be at his station, sipping a little booze, listening to the radio, when suddenly he would hear this terrible clattering noise echoing through the empty halls.
“If I didn’t know better,” he would mutter, getting slowly to his feet, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think something metal was coming down the stairs. Well, it’s probably nothing, but I’d better go check.”
There would be alternating shots of the old night watchman climbing up the stairs and the pipes coming down. With each shot of the night watchman, the noise would be louder.
“What is that?” he would ask, more and more puzzled. He would shine his flashlight up the stairs, peering into the darkness.
Then he would see them, the pipe snakes, their
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