Eight

Where Is That Monster?

    There was more knocking, this time more violent.

    Mrs. Brenner quickly took off her apron and pushed the hair back from her forehead. “Who can this be?” she said to herself.

    The door flew open, and Willy and Erna were the first to bounce in. “Yoohoo!” cried Willy, and waved merrily at the children. Behind them several neighbors were crowding through the door, and wedged in among them was Konrad, perspiring and shoving with his elbows. “You’re crushing me!” he cried angrily.

    “Where is that monster from Mars?” called Mr. Hofer, Konrad’s father.

    “Does it wear a helmet? Does it wear a helmet?” shrieked Miss Beck, and almost craned her neck out of joint.

    More and more people poured in. “Where is it? We want to see it too!” they shouted. Outside, people were even peering through the windows. In no time the small living-kitchen of the Brenners overflowed with excited neighbors.

    “My goodness,” exclaimed Mr. Brenner. “We are being invaded!”

    The children, alarmed, had withdrawn into a corner.

    Mo frantically clutched Walter’s arm. “Who is that?” she asked, her eyes wide.

    “They are our neighbors,” whispered Walter.

    “Are neighbors too human beings?” asked Mo.

    “Yes,” said Walter abruptly.

    “Has it got a helmet?” Miss Beck piped up again.

    “Now, you good folk,” called Mr. Brenner. “What goes on here?”

    “If you don’t mind, Brenner,” said Mr. Hofer, “we, too, would like to see the thing that arrived from Mars.”

    “Who told you that?” asked Mr. Brenner.

    “My son Konrad told us that a small, female goblin fell out of a flying saucer and that your children brought it home,” said Mr. Hofer.

    “Where is it? Where did you hide it?” voices wanted to know.

    “Holy cow!” shouted Mr. Brenner scornfully. “The lad is off his rocker. There is no goblin hidden in this house! This is the girl my children found in the forest! See for yourselves!” He pointed at Mo.

    “Oh!” said the neighbors—then silence. Mr. Hofer scratched his head. “But that is a real little girl,” he said disappointedly.

    “That’s nothing from Mars, not on your life,” declared Mr. and Mrs. Langmueller.

    “She is so; she’s from Asra,” peeped Lottie.

    “And I imagined something with a long, pointed nose, huge ears, and a bald head!” shrieked Miss Beck indignantly. A few people chuckled. The truth was that Miss Beck herself had a pointed nose and big ears, and, as everyone knew, she wore a wig.

    “Konrad!” said Mr. Hofer ominously. “Come here, my lad! What sort of a cock-and-bull story did you tell?”

    But Konrad stayed beyond arm’s length as a matter of precaution. “I can’t help it,” he mumbled. “Walter said she came from another planet.”

    “That happens to be right,” asserted Walter.

    “Our kids, too, told us that a being from another planet had arrived,” chorused Mr. and Mrs. Langmueller, who were the parents of Willy and Erna. The Langmuellers always spoke at the same time and almost always said the same thing.

    Willy grinned blithely and Erna snapped, “Mo said herself that she comes from Asra!” Erna had changed her clothes at home. She was now wearing pretty shoes and stockings and a plaid dress. She had even loosened her thick red braids and let her hair drop to her shoulders, just as Mo wore hers. Willy was wearing the cap and feather now.

    “What a cheap hoax!” cried Miss Beck, and raised her long, thin finger at Erna.

    Erna sniffed disdainfully. By now, the neighbors had grown very embarrassed about pushing into the Brenners’ house so unceremoniously. The men puffed their pipes in silence, exhaling thick clouds of smoke. The women stared curiously at Mo.

    “Where is the child from, Louise?” asked Mrs. Reuter, a gray-haired woman with a kind face.

    “That we don’t know,” said Mrs. Brenner regretfully. “She insists she is from another planet.”

    “The child is mad,” declared fat Mrs. Paul. “You can tell by her eyes, right away.”

    “Mo is NOT mad!” Walter shouted furiously.

    “I’m sure she escaped from an institution!” shrieked Miss Beck.

    “She did NOT escape from an institution!” shouted Gretel, eyes sparkling with fury. “Her father is coming for her tonight.”

    “That child is from the city,” insisted Mrs. Reuter emphatically. “She is much too elegant for Kummersville. Her parents must be rich. Her dress is made of pure silk.”

    “These are not my regular clothes,” Mo said modestly. “At home we wear much more beautiful clothes that are made of spun gold.”

    “Did you ever hear the like of it?” jeered Miss Beck. “If she isn’t a little comedian!”

    “If the child has lost her way, the police ought to be notified,” a voice came from the background.

    “Quite right,” murmured the men, and nodded in assent.

    “I planned to do that too,” Mr. Brenner said, “but the child is sick. I was going to the town hall to report that my children had found the child in the Hollewood.”

    However, there was no longer any need of that. A strong, deep voice bellowed from the doorway, “What goes on here? What’s the reason for this assembly?” Chief police sergeant Jacob Klotz was forcefully elbowing his way through the crowd. “Step back, step back!” he snapped, and the neighbors respectfully gave way.