Junie B. Jones Has a Monster Under Her Bed - Barbara Park [6]
“Thank you, Grace! Thank you! Thank you! ’Cause I have a vacuum cleaner right in my very own home! And so I can do that too, probably!”
After I got off my bus, I zoomed to my house speedy fast.
“GRANDMA MILLER! GRANDMA MILLER! I KNOW HOW TO GET RID OF THE MONSTER!” I hollered.
Then I runned to the closet and got Mother’s vacuum cleaner. And I pulled that big thing all the way to my room.
Grandma Miller came to my door.
I told her all about how to get rid of the monster. And guess what? She was a good sport about it!
First, she plugged the vacuum cleaner right into my wall. Then she put it under the bed. And she sucked the monster right out of there!
“HURRAY! HURRAY! YOU GOT HIM! YOU GOT THE MONSTER, GRANDMA!” I yelled real thrilled.
Grandma Miller runned with the bag to the kitchen. And she throwed it in the trash can.
“There. That ought to do the trick,” she said very happy.
I looked and looked at the trash.
Then I did a teeny frown.
“Yeah, only here’s the problem, Grandma. You didn’t actually put the bag in the trash compactor. And that is what turns the monster into a flatso.”
Grandma Miller smiled.
“Yes, but this house doesn’t have a trash compactor, Junie B.,” she said. “Your monster will just have to stay in the vacuum cleaner bag.”
My frown got bigger.
“Yeah, but what if he leaks out, Grandma? Then maybe he might float in the air. All the way back to my room. And he will get under my bed again.”
Grandma Miller tapped on the counter with her fingers. Then her cheeks filled up with air. And she let it out real slow.
“Okay…how ’bout this? What if I take it outside? I’ll take the bag outside. And I’ll push it way down in the big garbage can. And then I’ll press the lid down really tight, so he can’t get out.”
“Yeah, but he still won’t be a flatso,” I said very whining.
Just then, Grandma Miller got fusstration in her.
She grabbed the vacuum cleaner bag and ran outside.
Then she put it on the driveway.
And she got in her car.
And she backed up over that thing with her tires.
Pretty soon, she came back in the house.
She brushed her hands together.
“There! Now he’s a flatso!” she said kind of growly.
After she left, I got on the couch. And I stared very nervous at the driveway.
’Cause guess why?
A car is not a trash compactor.
That’s why.
7/Snarlies and Snufflies
That night, I heard snarlies under my bed.
Mother said it was my ’magination.
“No, it is not my ’magination,” I said. “I can hear snarlies. Plus also I hear snories and snufflies and droolies.”
Mother rolled her eyes way up at the ceiling.
“Honestly, Junie B….where in the world do you get this stuff?” she asked.
I thought and thought.
“It just automatically comes in my head,” I said. “It is a gift, I think.”
After that, I begged to sleep in her bed.
But Mother said no.
Then Daddy said no, too.
“You have to trust us, Junie B.,” he said. “We would never let anything hurt you. There’s nothing in your room to be afraid of.”
And so that’s how come I had to sleep in my own bed. For the whole entire night.
Plus also, I had to sleep there the next night. And the next night. And the next night after that, too.
That was the night when the worst thing of all happened.
’Cause I accidentally sleeped too much. And the monster must have crawled on my bed. ’Cause in the morning there was drool on my pillow!
I screamed very loud when I felt it.
“HELP! HELP! THERE’S DROOL! THERE’S DROOL! I TOLD YOU THIS WOULD HAPPEN! I TOLD YOU THE MONSTER WOULD COME!”
I ran in Mother and Daddy’s room and showed them my pillow.
Mother holded her head.
“When is this ever going to end?” she said. “When are you ever going to realize that there are no such things as monsters?”
She did not wait for me to answer.
“Everyone drools on their pillow sometimes,” she said. “It doesn’t mean you’re a baby. Your mouth just opens when you’re sleeping. And you drool a little bit. It’s no big deal. And it is not from monsters!”
After that, she went out of her room to the kitchen. And Daddy went