Ruffleclaw Read online

  Ruffleclaw kept his back turned to Tommy, but when he felt the warm air on his fur he started to gurgle with delight. “Ooooh! Warm wind from a can! Wormalicious!”

  It took quite a long time to dry the entire monster. Ruffleclaw just couldn’t get enough of it, and he complained bitterly when Tommy turned off the hair dryer. Ruffleclaw moaned and scratched his fur, which was still covered with pink lipstick.

  “Stop moaning and come on!” Tommy said. He opened the bathroom door. “My mother’s probably waiting already.”

  “You think?” Ruffleclaw nervously poked a claw into his ear. “I think I need another earthworm first.”

  “No,” said Tommy. “Come on.”

  Ruffleclaw started whining, “But worms are good for the nerves!”

  “Not for my nerves,” Tommy retorted, pulling the monster toward the stairs.

  The first minutes in the dining room were horrible. Even though there was more cake. Tommy’s mother and Ruffleclaw stared at each other across the beautifully laid table. Tommy wriggled on his chair and watched the two with growing panic. His mother looked as if she was going to jump up at any minute. The knife she’d used to cut the cake was lying right next to her hand.

  Ruffleclaw, in turn, looked as though he knew she was going to jump up and skewer him. He didn’t even look at the cake. His nose kept nervously sniffing the air.

  “Would you like some cake, Ruffleclaw?” Tommy asked into the silence.

  The monster pursed his lips, and for a terribly long moment Tommy thought he was going to spit on the table.

  But then the monster just warbled, “Yes, please! Thank you.”

  Like the perfect monster, he folded two of his claws over his belly and used the other two to reach for his cup.

  He slurped his coffee a bit too noisily, and there was just the tiniest burp afterward, but he did manage to nibble his cake quite tidily.

  One of Tommy’s mother’s eyebrows went up with surprise. This was a good sign. Relieved, Tommy helped himself to a piece of cake.

  “Ahhh!” Ruffleclaw sighed, rolling his eyes. “A creepy-crawlicious cake.”

  “I’m sorry?” asked Tommy’s mom.

  “Oh, that’s just a monster expression, Mom!” Tommy said quickly while he kicked Ruffleclaw under the table.

  The monster gave him a startled look. Then he turned to Tommy’s mother and gave her a grin so wide that she could see all his teeth. Through them he mumbled, “I would love to hear some of the snail-slimalicious jingly-music now.”

  “Oh!” said Tommy’s mother.

  Nothing else. Just: oh. But her cheeks turned as red as cherries.

  Tommy squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the explosion. Here we go, he thought. But then he heard his mother laugh. A little awkwardly, but she laughed.

  “Is your hairy friend asking me to play the piano?” she asked.

  “He, erm, yes—yes, that’s it!” Tommy stuttered. “He’s crazy about your playing. He just can’t say it very well.”

  “Oh!” his mother said again. She rose with an angelic smile and floated to her piano stool.

  Tommy knew what was coming, and he couldn’t suppress a yawn. Ruffleclaw, however, sat perfectly still and pricked his ears. No burps, no grunts, no growls—nothing. Tommy’s mother played and played, and eventually the monster started to sway happily from side to side. He hummed a little, and a couple of times he smacked his lips.

  Oh boy, Tommy thought as he stuffed himself with cake. I hope she doesn’t keep going for the whole afternoon.

  Finally Tommy’s mother lifted her hands from the keyboard and gave a little bow. She always did that after playing.

  “Wormaliciously wonderful!” Ruffleclaw cried. “So bug-slime, slugociously amazing!” He clapped with all four paws and nearly toppled into the cake with enthusiasm.

  Tommy’s mother turned as red as a radish.

  “I told him you’d teach him,” said Tommy.

  Ruffleclaw stared down at his paws.

  “Well…” Tommy’s mother cleared her throat. “And…why not?”

  Quick as lightning, the monster was off his chair and hopping next to her onto the piano stool. His grin could not have gotten any wider. He lifted his hairy paws and went for it. His claws zipped up and down and across the keyboard.

  Astonished, Tommy’s mother stared at the four red paws. Ruffleclaw’s playing sounded a little strange, but it did sound a little bit like what Tommy’s mother had just played.

  “Wonderful!” Tommy’s mother exclaimed when Ruffleclaw finally dropped his paws. “Absolutely wonderful! You’re a natural! A four-handed natural, no less.” She lovingly patted the monster’s shaggy head. “What a talent. My dear friend, I am so sorry for how I treated you before.”

  “Oh, let’s just forget about that!” Ruffleclaw grunted, scratching his belly. “But now I could really do with another piece of cake, couldn’t you?”

  When it had long been pitch-dark outside, Tommy’s mother and Ruffleclaw were still playing piano—six handed. Tommy slept on the sofa and dreamed of piano-playing monsters.

  They went to bed at midnight, but just a couple of hours later, Ruffleclaw shook Tommy awake.

  “Don’t tell me you’re hungry!” Tommy muttered sleepily. “You ate at least six pieces of cake.”

  “I heard something!” Ruffleclaw hissed. “Downstairs, by the front door.”

  Tommy sat up. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Puh! Human ears!” Ruffleclaw grunted. He hopped out of the bed and ran to the door. “I know who that is. It must be one of the others!” he muttered. “But there’s not space here for more than one earth monster. Oh no! I’m going to have to drive them away!”

  And with that, he was gone.

  “Hey, Ruffleclaw, wait!” Tommy crawled out of bed and yawned. “What are you talking about? What if it’s a burglar?” He padded to the stairs.

  And then he heard it, too: someone was fiddling with the front door lock.

  “Ruffleclaw!” Tommy whispered. “Come back!”

  “No way. Just let them come in!” he heard the monster growl in the darkness.

  “Where are you?” Tommy hissed.

  He heard a suppressed curse from outside the door. Suddenly the lock snapped open.

  Tommy cowered behind the banister.

  The door opened slowly. A long shadow stretched into the corridor. A human shadow.

  The figure took a step through the doorway—and was immediately jumped by Ruffleclaw. Hissing and growling, the monster held on to the intruder’s neck, pummeled him with his fists, spat in his face, and pulled his hair.

  “Help!” the intruder cried. “Help me!”

  Tommy knew that voice.

  “Dad!” he screamed. “Ruffleclaw! Let him go. That’s my dad!”

  “What?” Ruffleclaw croaked. He dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

  The lights flashed on, and Tommy’s mother appeared at the top of the stairs. “What on earth is going on?” she asked. Then she spotted her husband.

  “What are you doing here already? I thought you were arriving tomorrow morning! And why are you sitting on the floor?”

  “I got an earlier flight.” Tommy’s father was rubbing his neck. “And I’m sitting on the floor because my legs have gone a little wobbly.” He sneezed twice. “Could someone please explain to me what that is?” He pointed at Ruffleclaw, who had collapsed in a corner.

  “That is my monster,” Tommy answered sheepishly.

  “Your what?”

  “His monster,” said Tommy’s mom. “His name is Ruffleclaw, and he can play the piano—with four hands.”

  “Is that so?” Dad sneezed again—five times.

  “And he loves your totem poles!” Tommy added quickly.

  Ruffleclaw finally found his voice. “Oh yes! Those are bugtastic!” He got up and walked with outstretched paws toward Tommy’s dad.

  His dad, however, jumped up, tried to take a step back
, and fell over his suitcases. Cursing, he picked himself up, now rubbing his neck and his head, and started sneezing again.

  “Watch it there!” Ruffleclaw grinned at Tommy’s dad. He was still holding out his paw. “Welcome!” he grunted. “Glad to finally see a slug with at least a bit of hair on the face.”

  “What?” Tommy’s dad touched his beard—and sneezed again. “I’m sorry,” he sniveled, taking the monster’s red paw. “But I’m allergic to animal hair.”

  “Oh, that’s fine. I don’t mind,” replied Ruffleclaw.

  “Well, I kind of do.” Tommy’s dad sneezed some more, this time so hard that the vase by the entrance toppled over and spilled its water all over his shoes.

  Tommy and his mother exchanged a quick, helpless look.

  “Ah, bit of a sensitive nose there?” Ruffleclaw observed. He bent down and mopped up the water from Dad’s shoes with his paws. “That is indeed slimaliciously annoying. I had that once with cats. Always made me sneeze like a trumpet.”

  Tommy’s dad sneezed—seven times this time. Ruffleclaw looked at him full of sympathy.

  “We could shave his fur, Dad,” Tommy called. “But please let me keep him, okay?”

  Ruffleclaw shot Tommy an angry look. “What? Shave? This is my fur you’re talking about. My snail-slimaliciously, awesome fur!” He bared his fangs. “There won’t be any shaving—and you should be glad if I decide to keep you, you little slug.”

  Tommy’s dad chuckled, which immediately led to another sneeze. His nose was dripping like a leaky faucet. “I’m sorry,” he croaked. “You really are a funny fellow, Scuttleclaws, or whatever you’re called.” Three more sneezes. “But, as you can see, I really can’t have any fur in the house.” Four short and three long sneezes.

  “Nonsense!” Ruffleclaw grunted. He sniffed eagerly at Tommy’s dad’s luggage. “There’re plenty of good recipes against itchy noses.”

  Tommy’s dad rubbed his red nose. “For example?”

  Ruffleclaw scratched his belly. “For example, two earthworms wrapped in a spiderweb. You just have to chew thoroughly, but it helps right away.”

  Tommy’s father looked disgusted and sneezed six times.

  “Or”—Ruffleclaw continued—“you keep these in your pocket.” He plucked off three hairs from his tail and handed them to Tommy’s father. “But you have to spit on them first.”

  Tommy’s father eyed the monster hairs incredulously, but then he spat on them and put them in his pocket.

  Everyone looked at him, except for Ruffleclaw, who was poking the luggage that was still standing in the open door.

  “Well? Dad?” Tommy asked. “How are you feeling?”

  His father touched his nose and smiled.

  “It’s not itchy anymore!” he called out. “Not even a tiny bit. It worked!”

  “Of course it worked.” Ruffleclaw tried to peer through the suitcases’ zippers. “Earth monster remedies always work. And what’s in these?”

  Tommy’s dad was still prodding his nose. “Oh, those are my clothes, probably some desert sand, and a few souvenirs.”

  Tommy and his mother rolled their eyes, but Ruffleclaw excitedly bounced from one paw to the other. “Open them, open them!” he grunted.“Are those things as super-slimalicious as the other stuff you’ve got standing around here?”

  Tommy’s father let go of his nose and beamed. Nobody had been this excited about his souvenirs in years.

  “Hold on,” he said eagerly. “I’ll show them to you.” He took one suitcase and the monster took the other, and together they disappeared into the living room.

  Tommy stared after them from behind the banister.

  “Tommy, I believe you can keep your monster,” his mother said.

  Tommy grinned. Now I just have to make him understand that those souvenirs are not for eating, he thought.

  And then he went up to his room to lie on his bed and wait for his monster.

  The next day, Tommy said to Ruffleclaw, “Now that you’re living here, don’t you want to invite your monster friends over?”

  “Stupid idea!” Ruffleclaw grunted. It was afternoon, and he was lying on Tommy’s bed, the almost-empty worm tin next to him.

  “Why? We could get lots of cake and have a really nice monster tea party. What’s stupid about that?”

  “Firstly, I’d rather eat the cake myself,” Ruffleclaw growled. “And, secondly, they would never dare to come here anyway.”

  “Oh, come on,” said Tommy. “I’d love to meet them.”

  “No!” Ruffleclaw barked.

  “Just think how much you could brag to them!” said Tommy. “You can show them the bathroom, and the fridge, and all the soft beds.”

  “Hmm.” Ruffleclaw poked a claw into his left ear. That did sound fun. “But then I need two more pairs of sunglasses. They won’t come without sunglasses.”

  “No problem,” replied Tommy.

  “Fine!” Ruffleclaw grunted. He pulled the quilt under his chin. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Wormtooth and Shaggystink accepted the invitation, mainly because of the sunglasses.

  Tommy’s mother wrinkled her nose just a little bit as the two grinning monsters came hopping through the front door. The two of them did smell rather strongly of pill bugs and centipedes, but she tried to overlook that for friends of Ruffleclaw. She even shook their paws, though they were a little sticky and slimy.

  When Wormtooth and Shaggystink came into the living room, Ruffleclaw was already sitting at the piano. He thought he’d impress his friends, but the two brutes just sat down next to him and swatted at the keys a few times.

  Tommy’s mother started to twitch nervously, but they very quickly lost interest and made for the coffee table.

  They hopped on the sofa, wallowed on the knitted pillows, reached with their greedy paws for the cake, and by the time Tommy’s parents warily sat down on their chairs, anything edible—along with a few inedible things—had disappeared from the table.

  Shaggystink and Wormtooth rolled around on the sofa, grunting happily and licking their sticky paws.

  “So this is how slugs live?” Wormtooth asked between two long burps. She put her smelly feet on the coffee table.

  “What?” Tommy’s mother tried to hold her nose without anyone noticing. “What slugs?”

  The reply came in the form of double monster howls of laughter.

  “Well, this hole would give even crawlies the creeps!” Shaggystink growled. He picked a flea from his fur and cracked it between his teeth.

  Tommy’s parents were shocked, and Ruffleclaw was satisfied. His two neighbors would definitely not receive another invite to eat his cake. Oh no.

  The only one who seemed to enjoy Wormtooth’s and Shaggystink’s burping and grunting was Tommy. He even asked them whether he could visit them in their burrows. Ruffleclaw’s ears went green with envy.

  “Sure, you can visit us,” Wormtooth hissed. “We might even rustle up some slithery-fresh earthworms for you!”

  “Yes, and moldy bread!” Shaggystink rolled his eyes with delight. “Moldy bread is the best, but it has to be all green through and through. Never could figure out why you slugs throw that stuff out.”

  Tommy’s face went as green as bread mold.

  “Hey, nakedface!” Wormtooth croaked. “Let me feel your skin.” She hopped onto the table and over the plates and cups and touched Tommy’s cheek with her sticky paw.

  “Amazing!” Giggling, Wormtooth jumped off the table and grabbed hold of the lamp. She dangled above their heads and continued, “They even feel like slugs. For real! Do you taste like slugs, too?”

  Tommy’s parents stared up at the dangling monster with wide-open mouths.

  “Come on, Wormtooth!” Shaggystink suddenly croaked. He jumped off the sofa and muttered, “After all this, I need some decent worms.”

  Wormtooth let go and landed right next to her friend.

  “Have fun, Ruffleclaw!” they both grunted. The
n the two monsters spat in unison on the carpet and ran out of the room. The front door slammed shut just a moment later.

  “Heavens! How hideous!” Tommy’s mother groaned. “Such outrageous behavior. Are those two really your friends, Ruffleclaw?”

  “Nah, no way!” Ruffleclaw grunted dismissively. “Just neighbors. You can’t always pick your neighbors, can you?”

  “That smell!” Tommy’s mother sighed.

  “And look at that!” Tommy’s father pointed at the tablecloth. “They even tried to eat that. My dear Ruffleclaw, I am very sorry, but those two will not be welcome here again.”

  “No problem!” Ruffleclaw replied. Of course he didn’t mention that it was he who’d nibbled on the tablecloth. “I never wanted to invite them. That was Tommy’s idea.”

  “Really?” Tommy’s mother looked at him.

  “Yes!” Tommy said stubbornly. “And I don’t think they were that bad.”

  “Puh!” Ruffleclaw turned his back to him. “I’m going to sleep!” he growled, and disappeared upstairs.

  When Tommy came up, Ruffleclaw didn’t speak a word to him. He just took his worm tin and went to the window.

  Tommy was putting on his pajamas. “Where are you going?” he asked.

  Ruffleclaw pouted and opened the window. “Out!”

  “Hey, wait a minute!” Tommy said. “I was only joking down there. I thought those two were awful. You’re much nicer.”

  “Hmm,” Ruffleclaw grunted. He jumped on the windowsill.

  “Come down from there!” Tommy cried. “What are you doing? You’re going to break your neck!”

  “Mousepoop!” Ruffleclaw countered. “I’ll climb down the gutter. Simple.”

  “But why?” Tommy asked. He grabbed one of the monster’s arms. “Fine! I won’t go and visit them. I won’t eat their worms or their moldy bread. On my honor!”