DAVE
by Lisa McCourt Hollar
A monster moved into my room today. He wasn't big and hairy, like you see on TV In fact, he wasn't even very scary. What he was was 4-foot tall with curly red hair, and ears that stuck out about a mile. And though not scary, his teeth were sharp and I thought they might look more fearsome in the dark.
He was wearing jeans with rips in the seams, a Hawaiian shirt hung down to his knees. On his feet, which were really quite huge, he wore a pair of muddy tennis shoes.
I was lying on my bed, playing a video game, when he walked into my room and said, "Hi, my name is Dave. Do you mind if I move in?"
At first, I was surprised to see a monster walk into my room, but then I remembered something my mom had once said.
"Your room is a mess. If you don't get it clean, monsters are going to start moving in." I thought she was joking.
She wasn't.
"Where should I sleep?" Dave asked, as he tossed his things onto my bed.
"Umm," I said, not knowing what to say about a 4-foot monster moving into my room. So I just said, "I don't think my mom would want you living in my room."
"Oh, don't worry. Your room is such a mess, your mom will never know I'm here."
I looked around. Dave was right, it was a mess, just the way I liked it. Dave liked it too.
"Oh, I know!" Dave said, looking under the bed. "I'll sleep under here. All this dust will make a nice place to sleep."
Maybe this won't be too bad. All of my friends have brothers that act like monsters but I've got the real thing. How many kids can say that?
"You don't mind if I have some friends over every now and then?" Dave asked, opening my closet door.
"I guess not," I said, "as long as they're quiet."
"Don't worry." Dave said. "Your mom will never hear them. By the way, love what you've done with your closet. Didn't think you could pack so much stuff in there."
"Thanks," I said. "I try."
"I can tell. Good job! Well, I think I'm going to turn in. It's almost dark, and that's when all the fun begins." Dave said, as he slid back under my bed.
"What kind of fun?" I asked, wondering just what it was monsters did.
"Well, tonight it's a party. There will be music and dancing and we might even play a game of monster ball. Then, if we feel up to it, we may sneak into some little girls' room and squeak the door on her closet. That's always a riot."
I laughed, trying to imagine Dave seeming scary, even to a little girl. I don't know why mom thought having a monster move in would be such a bad thing. Dave's going to be a lot of fun.
A few seconds later, I smelled the smell. I leaned over the side of my bed, and looked under it. Dave had taken off his shoes.
"Umm, do you think you could do something about that smell?"
"Oh, I know." Dave said. "It's missing something, isn't it? My friend Sam offered to lend me some old socks he'd once used to catch a skunk."
"You mean, you want your feet to smell?"
"Well, of course! I'm a monster. Our smells are what make us special."
"Dave," I said, "my mom doesn't like smells. Not unless they're good smells."
"Then what's the problem?" Dave asked.
"Flowery smells, not skunk and feet smells."
"You don't say." Dave said. "Well, it takes all kinds. Now, if you don't mind, I think I'm gonna get some shut eye. It's gonna be dark soon, and as I mentioned, Sam's having a wing ding at his place tonight. Hear he's going to be serving stink worms. Delicious!"
"You don't understand." I said, "My mom will not want my room smelling like your feet. You're going to have to find someplace else to live."
Dave opened one eye and looked at me. "I don't think so. I like it here. Besides, I already told you, she'll never know I'm here. She'll blame the smell on something in your room."
"She'd be right." I growled.
"Ya, I guess she would," Dave snickered.
I stared at Dave a few more minutes. He'd closed his eye and was trying to go to sleep. He had no intention of leaving. I laid back on my bed and thought about what would happen when my mom got home and smelled Dave's feet. It wouldn't be a good thing. She'd come in here and start throwing things out, trying to get to the source of the smell. Then she'd find Dave. She'd scream. She might even cry. Things would get ugly. Real ugly. There was only one thing I could do.
I began gathering up all the clothes on my floor. I sorted them into two piles. Clean and dirty. I took the dirty clothes to the laundry room. Then I began folding the clean ones and putting them away in my drawers.
"What are you doing?" Dave asked, sleepily. He had one eye open again.
"Putting my clothes away." I said.
"Why would you want to do that?" Dave asked.
"Because I'm cleaning my room." I said.
Dave's other eye opened. "Why would you want to do that?" He asked, sounding alarmed.
"So you will leave."
"Now listen, don't be so hasty." Dave said. "I make a great room mate. You don't really want me to leave."
"Yes, I do." I said, picking my books up off the floor and putting them on the bookshelf. "If my mom comes home and finds you she might scream. She might even cry. Then she'll tell me that she'd warned me this would happen. Who knows, she might even ground me. So you see, you have to go."
"Think this through," Dave said, sliding out from under the bed, "If you clean your room, your mom is going to expect you to keep it clean all the time. ALL THE TIME! She'll start bringing her friends in here to show them your room. She'll brag to the neighborhood moms about how clean you keep your room. Then those moms will want to know why their kids can't keep their room as nice as yours, and make them start picking up their rooms. Your name will be the most hated name on the block. Do you really want that? DO YOU?"
I paused, book midway to the shelf. Dave had a point. This could turn into a lot of work. Then I caught a whiff of his feet again and placed the book on the shelf.
"I'll just have to take that chance." I said, as I began to pick up my video games.
When I was done, I opened my closet door. "Not the closet!" Dave despaired. "Leave the closet the way it is, and I can stay in there."
"Not a chance." I said.
Dave sighed. "You really know how to ruin a good thing. Well, you win. I'll pack my things and go. I can probably stay with Sam for a while."
"I'm sorry things didn't work out." I told Dave. "I think it would have been fun having you here, but with my mom and all ... well, I just don't think she would understand."
"No problem," Dave said, "but I'm gonna check back every now and then. Maybe someday, your room will be suitable for me again."
"Maybe," I shrugged, "but don't count on it. I don't think my mom will ever start to like the smell of skunk and feet."
"Go figure." Dave said, mystified.
Dave left and I finished cleaning my room. I even got the dust bunnies out from under my bed.
To get rid of Dave's foot odor, I sprayed some of my moms air freshener in my room. It smells like lilac mow. Dave would hate it. I know I do.
When my mom got home she screamed. Then she cried. She called all her friends and told them how clean my room was. Then she bragged to the neighbors about how clean my room was.
Later on that night my friend Tom called. He wanted to know if I could come and help him clean his room. His mom was complaining about a mysterious odor coming from under his bed

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