Invasion of the Mind Swappers From Asteroid 6! Page 2

  I told her that was not true!! I said, “Look at Chapter 1-’Delilah tossed her blonde ears and cocked her head to one side.’ If that isn’t good Writing about girl characters, what is?!”

  I don’t remember exactly what the next thing she said was, but the next thing I said was, “Ouch.”

  Writing is dangerous.

  CHAPTER 5:

  “DELILAH, THE INTELLIGENT SQUIRREL”

  “Follow me,” Howie, a natural-born leader, told Delilah.

  Delilah scampered along at his side. “Where are we going?” she asked. She then reminded him that even though she looked like a squirrel, she was still smart and deserving of his respect.

  “I know that,” said Howie, “although you are not as smart as you were in Chapters 2 and 3, when you sounded like you had a computer for a brain.”

  “And no one is saying squirrels aren’t intelligent,” Delilah added, wanting to be sure that Howie didn’t get in trouble with some organization like the Friends of Squirrels when his book was published.

  “That is very true,” Howie said, grateful that Delilah was thinking of him. “Now, to answer your question: Where we are going is to Centerville College, where Mr. Monroe teaches. Of course, Mr. Monroe teaches English, which doesn’t exactly help us, but there must be a scientist in the Astrofizziology department who can help us figure out what’s going on and how to get you—er, your body—back from outer space.”

  “Cool,” said Delilah, batting her squirrelly eyelashes at Howie. These were not as beautiful as her old eyelashes, but Howie was flattered nonetheless. Although it was weird to have a squirrel batting her eyelashes at him.

  Once they got to Centerville College, Howie said, “You’d better leave this to me, Delilah. Not because you’re not smart or anything . . .”

  “Of course not,” Delilah said.

  “It’s just that, being one of his pets and all, Mr. Monroe knows me. Somehow I have to communicate to him that I need his help. Anyway, if you’re with me, he might wonder what I’m doing hanging around with a squirrel. Usually, I’m chasing them.”

  “I understand, Howie,” Delilah replied calmly. “I’ll wait out here in this beautiful park, where I can scamper and frolic and beg for popcorn.”

  “Okay,” Howie said sadly, for he could not help but think that for the rest of her life, Delilah might be destined to scamper and frolic and beg for popcorn. She might never again know the joys of playing Rip-the-Rag or chewing on old sneakers or sniffing hydrants! And they might never marry! And if they did marry, what would their children look like? He had to rescue her body and reunite it with her mind!

  But on his way to Mr. Monroe’s office, he saw terrible things that made him think Delilah was not the only one affected by the recent visit of the . . . Mind Swappers from Asteroid 6!

  HOWIE’S WRITING JOURNAL

  Uncle Harold said, “Howie, changing the font on your computer doesn’t count as writing!”

  I said, “What do you mean, Uncle Harold?”

  He said, “You don’t build suspense just by putting the words ‘mind Swappers from Asteroid 6’ in some fancy font.”

  I said, “But I thought it looked cool. See, it’s like a logo kind of thing, you know, like you identify it with the book. So when the movie comes out and all the toys and stuff, they’ll use the same font, and then consumers will know “they’re getting. That’s called ‘brand-name recognition.’ Toby did a report on it for school. It’s very important to know your market, Uncle Harold.”

  Uncle Harold groaned and rolled his eyes. I asked him if he felt okay. He mumbled something about what the World was coming to, and went off to take a nap.

  Too bad. I wanted to ask him if I should be potting a trademark Sign over the title. You know, like this:

  Invasion of the Mind Swappers from Asteroid 6!™

  He probably would have said no. I used to think Uncle Harold was totally awesome, but I’m beginning to think he’s a little old-fashioned. I mean, doesn’t he know that cool fonts have everything to do with writing?!

  CHAPTER 6:

  “THE HORRIBLE FATE OF CENTERVILLE”

  As he made his way across the campus of Centerville College, Howie noticed that the students were acting very strangely.

  “Soon we will command the . . . oops, an earthling,” he heard one girl say as she walked past him. Actually, he had to look up to make sure it was a girl, because she had this weird metallic voice.

  She was walking with a boy whose blank eyes were staring straight ahead. Wow, Howie thought, he must have had a hard day at school.

  But then he heard the boy say in this flat voice that sounded like it had been run over by a steamroller, “Yes, soon our mission here will be complete.”

  Howie, being the perceptive and insightful wirehaired dachshund puppy that he was, sensed that something wasn’t quite right. Why were these students talking so strangely? Perhaps they were drama students practicing lines from a play. But there was something about their use of the word “earthling.” Where had Howie heard it before?

  Just then, Howie heard his name being called. It sounded like this:

  “Howie! Howie!”

  It was Toby, the Monroes’ youngest son! (And smartest.) (And neatest.)

  (And nicest.)

  (Not that Howie didn’t like Pete, the Monroes’ other son.)

  What was Toby doing here at Centerville College?

  “Oh, Howie,” Toby called out as he threw his arms around his popular and beloved pet. “Am I ever glad to see you, boy! You’ll know what to do!”

  “Do?” Howie said, although it came out: “Woof?”

  “Something terrible’s happened to Dad! Mom dropped me off at his office about twenty minutes ago so I could use his copy machine and he . . . he . . .” Toby started to sniffle.

  “I’m sorry, boy,” he said. “I don’t want to cry, but Dad . . . he just isn’t acting like himself. He keeps spinning around in his chair and saying something like, ‘Must get chairs like this for Asteroid 6.’ And his voice is all flat, like it’s been run over by a steamroller. What is it, Howie? Is it something he ate? Is he sick? Is he going crazy?”

  “No,” Howie said, “it’s none of those things. It’s worse. Mr. Monroe is an innocent victim of the Invasion of the Mind Swappers from Asteroid 6!™ His mind has been swapped with an evil alien’s, and I believe the students I heard earlier were also mind-swapping victims! Perhaps all of Centerville has been drained of its brains, Toby. Perhaps you and I are the only ones left!”

  Although it came out: “Woof!”

  “We’ve got to save Dad!” Toby cried. “But how, how? You’re smart, Howie. You lead the way and I’ll follow!”

  Howie was smart, it was true, but he didn’t know where to go, what to do. He had hoped Mr. Monroe might know somebody in the Astrofizziology department, but Mr. Monroe’s mind wasn’t available since it was on the Mother Ship on its way to Asteroid 6!

  Just then, the sky turned white!!!!

  HOWIE’S WRITING JOURNAL

  Writing is so cool! I didn’t know what to have Howie do next, so I turned the sky white! Of course, now I have to figure out why the sky turned white, but that’ll be easier than having to figure out what Howie should do next.

  CHAPTER 7:

  “THE DAY THE SKY TURNED WHITE”

  “There! It’s up there!” Howie heard someone shout.

  He looked up but couldn’t see a thing because the sky had turned white. A blinding white. Like the inside of the sun. Or the T-shirts in TV commercials for laundry detergent. Or some movie star’s teeth.

  Suddenly, he heard his name being called. It sounded like this: “Howie! Howie!”

  Except it was kind of quiet, as if someone small was calling it. More like, “Howie! Howie!” A squirrel, maybe.

  “There you are!” Delilah cried. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

  “What is it, Howie?” Toby asked. “What’s made the sky turn white?” Noticing the s
quirrel, he asked, “And who’s your friend?”

  “It’s Delilah,” Howie explained. “But you can’t recognize her because her mind is trapped in a squirrel’s body.”

  Although it came out . . . oh, you know how it came out.

  Just then, there was a distant roar of thunder.

  “That sound,” said Howie. “Could it be . . . ?”

  “The Mother Ship!” Delilah said. “Judging from the decibel level and considering that the air quality today is at an all-time—”

  “Stop that!” Howie snapped. “You’ve been revised. Did you forget?”

  “Oh, sorry,” said Delilah. Then she repeated: “The Mother Ship!”

  Delilah was right. Even Howie had to admit it. Although he didn’t like to.

  “You’re right!” he said.

  The white light began to fade, and there in the sky was the giant spacecraft Howie and Delilah had seen earlier.

  “Look!” Delilah cried. “There I am! I’ve got my head hanging out the window! Do you see how my ears are flapping in the wind? I always did like going for rides and hanging my head out the window.” A tear fell from her eye.

  “I’ll get your body back,” the heroic dachshund told Delilah’s mind. “If those Mind Swappers from Asteroid 6!™ think they can mess with Howie Monroe, they’ve got another think coming!”

  “Oh, Howie,” Delilah sighed, batting her eyelashes and offering him an acorn she’d been stashing in her left cheek.

  Howie looked at the woman he loved and heaved a heavy and heroic sigh.

  If I fail at my mission, he thought, I’ll be spending the rest of my life eating acorns.

  It was a chilling thought.

  HOWIE’S WRITING JOURNAL

  Oh, Fine. Delilah reminded me I was supposed to make her the heroic one in this book. How am I supposed to do that? She’s a squirrel!

  CHAPTER 8:

  “DELILAH TO THE RESCUE”

  There in the sky was the giant spacecraft Howie and Delilah had seen earlier.

  “Look!” Delilah cried. “There I am! I’ve got my head hanging out the window! Do you see how my ears are flapping in the wind? I always did like going for rides and hanging my head out the window.” A tear fell from her eye.

  “I’ll get my body back,” the heroic squirrel said. “If those Mind Swappers from Asteroid 6!™ think they can mess with Delilah, they’ve got another think coming!”

  “Oh, Delilah,” Howie sighed, batting his eyelashes and accepting the acorn she offered him. “You are so heroic.”

  “It’s true,” Delilah agreed. “All I have to figure out now is what to do. Can you help?”

  “Sure thing,” said Howie.

  Just then, the spacecraft landed.

  A roar rose up from the crowd: “All hail the conquering Mind Swappers from Asteroid 6!™”

  Howie looked around in alarm. On all sides of him stood the citizens of Centerville, their eyes as empty as a can of Mighty-Dog after it’s been scraped clean and Mrs. Monroe can’t get one more bit of food out of it even if you whimper and wish with all your heart she could. They stood in a wide circle around the Mother Ship—the children and parents and professors and students and dogs and cats and barbers and dentists and race-car drivers and yoga instructors and piano tuners and . . . well, you get the picture . . . everybody in Centerville was standing there staring vacantly and murmuring, “Hail, hail, hail.”

  “Look,” Toby cried. “There’s Dad. And Mom too. And Pete’s there with Harold and Chester.”

  Toby started to run toward his family, but Howie, the wise and intelligent, not to mention smart, dachshund puppy, caught the cuff of Toby’s pants in his teeth. He couldn’t speak at that moment, having a mouth full of pants and all, but if he could, he would have said, “It’s no use! Your family’s minds have been swapped with the minds of the creatures from Asteroid 6! If you get too close to them, what you behold will only break your heart!”

  Toby seemed to understand. “Look at them,” he said. “It’s as if their minds have been swapped with the minds of the creatures in that spaceship. If I get too close to them, what I behold will only break my heart.”

  As Toby crumpled to the ground, Howie released his pants leg. He would taste denim for the rest of the afternoon.

  Howie wanted to assure Toby that it would be all right, that his family would be the way they always were. But how could that be? What could he do? He was only one small dachshund in a world gone mad, one tiny voice in a sea of voices, one pebble in a field of boulders, one itsy-bitsy minnow in a school of sharks!

  Still, he had to do something. The future of the world rested on his small, but surprisingly strong and able, shoulders.

  Then he remembered that it was Delilah’s turn to be the hero. What a relief, he thought. I don’t have to figure this out, after all.

  CHAPTER 8:

  “DELILAH TO THE RESCUE”

  “Well?” said Delilah.

  “Well what?” Howie retorted cleverly.

  “I thought you were going to help me,” Delilah said.

  “I can’t,” Howie told her. “If I think of what to do, then I’ll be the hero. And it’s your turn, remember?”

  Delilah sighed. “I remember,” she said.

  Howie and Delilah looked at each other for a long time.

  Howie was getting hungry.

  Even an acorn sounded good.

  The story came to a standstill.

  HOWIE’S WRITING JOURNAL

  I HAVE WRITER’S BLOCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  I went to Uncle Harold.

  I said, “Uncle Harold, what do you do when you have writer’s block?”

  He said, “I take a nap.”

  I tried that, but when I woke up I still had writer’s block.

  (I think Uncle Harold’s solution to everything is to take a nap.) (Or eat.)

  So I asked Pop for some advice. “Pop” is what I call the cat who lives with us. His real name is Chester, and he is very, very smart. I knew he would have good advice for me.

  “Are you still writing those inane stories?” he said. “Give up. You’re a dog, for heaven’s sake. Go bury a bone and get over your delusions.”

  Sometimes Pop uses words I don’t understand. Like “inane” and “delusions.”

  And “give up.”

  What am I going to do? I’m really stuck!

  If I can’t write this story, my first one won’t get published. Then I’ll never be famous and have my picture on the cover of Canine Quarterly.

  I think I’ll take another nap.

  Or eat.

  HOWIE’S WRITING JOURNAL

  I’ve got it!

  The answer!

  I’ll ask Delilah (the real one) what she would do!

  HOWIE’S WRITING JOURNAL

  Delilah really is smart. She figured the whole thing out for me. First, she said, something really threatening has to happen. And then all I have to do is ask myself what a really smart dog (like her), who happens to be trapped in the body of the squirrel, would do.

  It’s like Uncle Harold always says: “Just ask enough questions and you’ll come up with a story.”

  CHAPTER 8:

  “DELILAH TO THE RESCUE!”

  Suddenly, the door of the spacecraft opened! The steps Howie and Delilah had seen earlier magically lowered. The crowd held its breath. It sounded like this:

  “ ”

  It kept holding its breath . . .

  “ ”

  . . . until, as if it were one, it gasped! A green space creature with a head the shape of an egg emerged from the Mother Ship and raised one of its three hands in a salute. “Greep tabbo-tabbo!” it said in its flat metallic voice.

  “Greep tabbo-tabbo!” said the citizens of Centerville. Even the dogs and cats. Even Harold and Chester.

  “I don’t understand,” Howie said. “What’s happening?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” said Delilah. “That’s the leader of the Mind Swappers from Asteroid 6!�
� It’s greeting the others, who are responding in the tongue of their home asteroid because, although these may look like familiar faces, everyone around us is really a Mind Swapper from Asteroid 6!™”

  “I feel so . . . so alone,” Howie whimpered. “So . . . so vulnerable. You have to do something, Delilah!”

  “But what can I do? I am only one small squirrel in a world gone mad, one tiny voice in a sea of voices, one pebble in a field of boulders, one itsy-bitsy minnow in a school of sharks!”

  Just then, another creature stepped out onto the platform at the top of the stairs. And then another and another, until the platform was filled with green, three-armed creatures.

  And there in the middle of them all was the dog formerly known as Delilah!

  “It’s me!” Delilah cried. “I must be reunited with my body! But wait! If I want to be reunited so badly, what about the squirrel? Surely the squirrel—”

  “How do you know the squirrel’s name is Shirley?” Howie asked, hoping to inject some much-needed humor into the narrative.

  Delilah gave him a dirty look. “Surely . . . the . . . squirrel . . . must want to return to its body as well. But the squirrel’s mind is not in my body; it’s in the body of one of these creatures. If I can just find the right creature, I may be able to set in motion a chain reaction that’s calculated at the rate of—”

  She was cut off by the words of the leader of the Mind Swappers.

  “Sling mahu wangee olgie deep!” he said, holding aloft a flag with a picture of an asteroid on it.

  “They’re about to take over Planet Earth!” Howie, the keenly insightful dachshund, pointed out. “Hurry, Delilah, you’ve got to act now!”