The Alien in Apartment 4-B
The
minute I came home from school my brother, Manny, ran toward
me. “I heard it again! I heard it again!” he shrieked.
“You heard what?”
“Footsteps! Doors opening and closing! There’s someone upstairs in apartment 4-B.”
Manny was at it again. “There’s no one in apartment 4-B,” I said. “The Morgans are on vacation.”
“Exactly!” Manny cried. “So who’s walking around above us? A burglar? A spy? Maybe it’s a space alien!”
I rolled my eyes. Ever since last weekend when we saw the movie Alien Creatures Attack, Manny thinks creatures from another planet have invaded.
“It’s probably just Sammy pouncing around,” I said. Sammy was short for Samantha, the Morgans’ cat.
“It can’t be Sammy!” Manny insisted. “Cats don’t pound the floors or slam doors. We’ve got to find out who’s upstairs!”
“Correction, little brother. You find out who’s upstairs. I have soccer practice.” I turned and walked away, wondering if Manny was really the one from another planet.
But that night something strange happened. The full moon glowed so brightly that an eerie beam shone across my darkened bedroom. That’s when I heard it. Footsteps above me, walking across the floor of apartment 4-B. Then a door creaked open and shut. My body froze.
Manny bolted into my room. “Did you hear it? Did you hear it?” he cried.
“Ssh!” I whispered. “Mom will hear you.”
I sat up and tried to think. “Maybe a friend is staying in the Morgans’ apartment while they’re away.”
“I’m going to hide out under the stairs tomorrow,” Manny said, not listening to me “I’ve got Mom’s old camera. I’m going to catch the alien in action!”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “First we should ask their neighbors upstairs. Somebody must have seen someone going into the Morgans’ apartment.”
“Not if they’re space creatures!” said Manny. “They could change into something else. They could become invisible. They could be plotting to destroy us right now!”
“Would you forget about that movie?” I said. “Tomorrow we’ll ask Mom if we can talk to the neighbors. Now go back to sleep!”
Manny
grinned and rubbed his hands together. That’s the way
he acts when he’s on one of his personal missions to
save the earth.
As he walked out of my bedroom, I called to him, “Leave my door open. And turn on the hall light, too!”
Mom said we could talk to the neighbors upstairs if we were polite. So early on Saturday, Manny and I knocked at the door of apartment 4-A. Mrs. Cooper worked at home most of the day. She would know if anything strange was going on.
When she answered the door I asked, “Have you seen anyone going into apartment 4-B since the Morgans left? A relative? A friend, maybe?”
“A space alien?” Manny injected.
I jabbed him with my elbow.
“Oh no,” she said. “It’s been very quiet all week.”
We thanked her and moved on to apartment 4-C.
Mr. Jacobs, a construction worker, opened the door. “I’m at the new building site most of the day,” he said. “But I haven’t noticed anyone strange going into the Morgans’ apartment.”
We
thanked him and moved on to the last apartment on the floor-4-D.
Billy Klein, a high-school kid, answered our knock. “Nobody
new on this floor,” he told us.
A chill ran down my spine. If none of their neighbors had seen anyone, who was walking around the Morgans’ apartment?
A half-hour later, Manny had staked out a spot underneath the fourth-floor staircase.
“What are you doing now?” I asked.
Manny aimed Mom’s camera at me. “I’m going to shoot the alien upstairs.”
“What is it with you? There are no aliens living upstairs!”
“Exactly!
They’re not living there, but they’re spying on
us, just like in the movie.”
I shook my head. But suddenly images of hairless, one-eyed
aliens popped into my mind. I sat down next to Manny.
Noon passed. One o’clock, then two. Manny read his “Space Creatures” comic books and lurched toward the steps every time he heard a noise. I tried going over soccer plays in my head, but movie scenes of attacking alien armies kept distracting me.
Finally,
at 3:57, we heard footsteps above us and a door opening.
We craned our necks over the banister and looked up the
stairs. The door to apartment 4-B was open! No one had passed
us on the stairs—and there’s no elevator in our
building.
My heart pounded as we raced up the stairs. Manny peeked
into the apartment.
He aimed the camera. But then a familiar voice said—“Hi, kids. Come to see Sammy?”
Mr. Jacobs walked toward us from the pantry, his heavy construction boots pounding across the hardwood floor.
“There you go, girl,” Mr. Jacobs said, spooning food into the cat’s dish.
Mr. Jacobs looked at us. “Sammy has some appetite. The Morgans asked me to feed her twice a day, but I think she’d prefer three times.” He petted Sammy. “See you later, girl.”
Afterward, alone with Manny downstairs, I muttered, “Well, alien buster, Mr. Jacobs is some space creature!”
Manny shrugged. “But did you see how Sammy attacked that food bowl? I never saw her eat so much.” Manny’s eyes suddenly flashed. “Maybe that wasn’t really Sammy!” he cried. “I bet it was really an alien! I bet all the aliens have changed shape, and they’re waiting to attack the planet!”
I winced and shook my head. “Not again, Manny!” I said. “You just don’t quit.”
Manny rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Exactly.”
