The
Halloween
Mouse
By Richard Laymon
Pictures by Alan M. Clark
Cemetery Dance Publications
Baltimore
2001
Dedicated in loving memory to Richard Laymon
Text copyright © 2001 by Richard Laymon
Illustration copyright © 2001 by Alan M. Clark
Book design by Alan M. Clark
Published by Cemetery Dance Publications
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
All Persons in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance that may seem to exist to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction.
ISBN 1-58767-047-X
Cemetery Dance Publications
P.O. Box 943
Abingdon MD 21009
U.S.A.
http://www.cemeterydance.com
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition
10 987654321
Timothy Maywood Usher Mouse was a fine young lad who lived in the Elmwood Public library.
In the library he liked to read stories about great, thrilling adventures . . . tales of giants and pirates and bandits, of secret treasures and gallant journeys, of lost tribes and narrow escapes.
"I should like to have such an adventure myself," Timothy often thought.
But then he looked out the library window
The outside world looked very big.
So very big and strange, not at all like his cozy library with its shelves and its books . . . its many many books that were full of such wonderful adventures.
He wasn't sure he wanted to leave his library.
"But I must," he told himself. "If it's such fun to read an adventure, it must be ten times more fun to have one."
And so he kept watch out the window . . . watching for just the right sort of day for starting a great adventure.
Some days were gray and rainy. He hoped for an adventure, not a soaking.
Some days, the wind blew so hard he supposed that a tiny fellow such as himself might be blown clear off his feet and into the next town.
Other days, he spied dogs and cats on the library's lawn. He had read many tales about cats and dogs, so he knew they might like to eat him.
"I would rather have none of that," thought Timothy.
And so he waited and watched.
Finally, there came just the right sort of day. The sun was bright. The wind looked mild. Across the street, the trees down by the river were full of bright leaves. Most of them stayed in the trees. Others fell softly, moving sideways in the gentle breeze. Some landed on the ruffled water of the river and floated slowly away.
For as far as Timothy could see, he saw no dogs or cats.
"This is just the day for me!" he thought. "Out I'll go, and have a great adventure!"
"Or should I?" he wondered.
What if a nasty storm is just around the corner? Or what if a dog is? Or a quick and hungry cat?
"I'll wait just a little while longer. Just to make sure it's safe."
He waited and waited.
No dog or cat or storm came by.
Soon, the sun took on a wonderful golden color. It spread its gold over the trees and grass and river.
"My, oh my," thought Timothy. "I've never seen such a beautiful day. If I don't go out now, I'll be sorry. There might never be a better day than this."
The window gave him some trouble. He was a good, strong mouse, but only a mouse. Though he tried and tried, the window stayed shut.
The sun moved lower in the sky outside.
Though only a mouse, Timothy was a very smart mouse. He went and got a pencil and pried the window open.
"Ah ha!" he said.
Out he rushed, and over the sill and down the ivy-covered wall. Before long, he came to the ground.
"That was easily done," he thought.
Then he turned to the lawn.
"Oh, dear."
From his window, the lawn had looked like a soft carpet of green.
Down here, it looked like a million blades of grass, each one taller than Timothy himself. He couldn't see over them, not even on his tiptoes.
"Oh, well," he said. "Adventures do have their ups and downs."
With that, he marched into the field.
"I do hope I don't get lost. It might add spice to my adventure, but I would rather go without it. This is only my first adventure. I should like to keep it simple."
Pushing through the grass was not so hard, but more than grass got in his way. Sometimes, he had to circle around pine cones and small stones. Other times, he needed to climb over twigs and branches.
One old stick was shiny and had very bright stripes. While Timothy climbed over it, it moved.
He almost fell, but didn't.
"A moving branch," he thought. "How wonderful!"
He had never read of such a thing.
"It just goes to show, books don't tell you everything."
With his arms out like a tightrope walker, he rode the branch through the grass.
"I do hope it's taking me in the best direction."
Then he thought, "Oh, well, really . . . any direction is fine with me. It doesn't matter where an adventure happens, just so it happens."
Timothy was having a very fine ride. But all of a sudden the moving stick curled around and Timothy found a snake staring him in the eyes.
Though he had never read of moving sticks, he had read about snakes. They loved to eat mice!
This one gazed at Timothy with bright yellow eyes and licked its lips.
"Not me!" he exclaimed, and jumped off the back of the snake.
He landed on his feet and ran. He ran and ran and ran as fast as his feet could make him run.
Then he looked back.
"Yikes!"
There it was, close to him and getting closer.
Timothy tried to run faster.
"Oh, dear," he thought. "I wanted an adventure, not a disaster!"
Then he came to a sidewalk. He leaped onto it and made a quick turn to the right. The sidewalk was smooth and flat and he could run very fast on it.
He looked back.
Here came the snake!
"Oh, I never should have left the library! I should have been happy just reading books! Make-believe adventures are dandy, and I don't get eaten!"
Looking back at the snake, he had not been watching the sidewalk ahead of him. Suddenly, he remembered that smart mice don't run backward for long distances.
He faced the front, but not fast enough.
A Tootsie Roll!
Timothy tripped over it, tumbled and bounced and rolled.
When he stopped tumbling and bouncing and rolling, he sat up and . . .
Here came the snake!
The Tootsie Roll had already rolled out of the snake's way and didn't even slow it down.
Racing toward Timothy the snake opened its mouth very wide. Its fangs looked as big as elephant tusks.
Timothy leaped up and whirled around and ran . . .
. . . smack into the big yellow top of a candy corn.
"Umf!" he grunted.
Then he thought, "Ah-ha!"
Hugging the candy corn like an old friend, he picked it up and swung around. He pitched it at the snake with all his might.
Timothy, however, had never been terribly good at sports. He was a mouse, after all . . . not a child.
Though aimed at the snake's head, the candy corn flew high and outside.
"I'm doomed," thought Timothy.
The snake suddenly struck!
But not at Timothy. At the candy corn.
Leaping high, it snapped the candy corn out of the sky. It made a beautiful landing. Winking at Timothy, it slithered off into the grass with its treat.