The Power Potion by Wendelin Van Draanen

Author:Wendelin Van Draanen [Draanen, Wendelin Van]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-375-89622-4
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2010-06-08T04:00:00+00:00

She sniggered as she looked around. “I can see how that’s workin’ for ya.”

“The lizard’s not the problem, your cat is! She’s possessed!”

“Oh, really?” Lily said, then hurried out of the apartment, only to return a minute later with one very droopy-looking Topaz. “You think this cat is possessed? You think she tore through your house and gouged up your ceiling?”

Topaz did seem like nothing more than a helpless, hapless furry blob. (One that might have a propensity for ramming walls with her face, but catapulting eight feet to sink her claws into a ceiling? Not likely.)

Still, Dave held his ground. “Yes!”

Dave and Lily locked eyes for a moment. “Well,” Lily said (in her sassy, saucy way), “you’re crazy.” She eyed the ceiling. “There’s no way any cat can get up that high.” She shrugged. “Besides, Topaz has been sacked out since I got home.”

“Oh yeah?” Dave challenged, but something about what she’d said gave him pause. “Uh, when did you get home?”

She shrugged again. “A while ago.”

Dave simply stood there, thinking and blinking.

Now, the truth was that Lily had not been home that long, but she’d been home long enough to blow Sticky’s story wide open. And after she left with a “See ya, delivery dork,” Dave took a deep breath and said, “Stickyyyyyyy?”

The little gecko peeked out from his hiding place inside Dave’s sweatshirt and looked at Dave with extreme innocence. “Sí, señor?” But as Dave studied him, the lying gecko started to feel the heat.

His eyes went a little shifty.

His face went a little twitchy.

And as Dave’s eyes narrowed, Sticky knew he was busted.

“Ay-ay-ay,” Sticky moaned. “I gave that evil gata some of the potion, okay?”

Dave’s eyes flew open. “You WHAT?”

“It was just a drop. How was I supposed to know it would make her as strong as an ox?”

“That’s the whole point!” Dave shouted. “You didn’t know! What if it had killed her?”

Sticky looked off to the side and gave a little shrug.

“Sticky!”

“Hey! She’s been trying to kill me for weeks and you didn’t care about that!”

“So you were trying to kill her?”

“No!”

Dave spittered and spattered and sputtered until at last he gave up trying to figure out what to say to Sticky and got busy putting the family room in order.

When he’d done as much as he could, his head was at least clear enough to form a question. “So,” he asked, “where’s the potion?”

“Ay-ay-ay,” Sticky replied.

Dave stopped in his tracks. “What? Where is it? What happened to it?”

And so the story came out about the monkey and the potion and Sticky’s efforts to recover the powerful liquid. “I tried, señor, but that monkey was jumping all over the place, throwing things around…. You should see your room! And he stole your grill!”

“I don’t care about that stupid grill!” Dave snapped as he hurried toward his room. “It wasn’t even mine! You stole it from someone else!”

And then Dave saw his room.

“I can’t believe this!” he wailed.

But as he staggered through the mess, the thing that dealt the final blow was his social studies project.

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