“I'm fine,” I said. “Just fine.”

  “He's rabid,” Colin called. “Look out, everyone. Maxie is rabid!” Laughing, he went back up to his room.

  I wanted to save the party. I didn't want everyone to go home now and tell their parents it was the worst day of their lives —and they'd been attacked by bats.

  “Wait. We're going to play Twister!” I shouted. “Come on, guys. I've got two Twister mats. Double Twister! Come on. Let's do it. I've got prizes for the winners!”

  Some kids were halfway to the door. But they stopped when I said the word “prizes.”

  “What kinds of prizes?” Willy Wilbur asked.

  I had to think fast. I didn't really have any prizes. “Uh … some new PlayStation games,” I said. Colin had every PlayStation game ever made. I could probably sneak some from his shelves.

  A few minutes later, everyone was playing Twister.

  I had two mats. We cleared away the furniture, and I spread them out side by side in the living room.

  The game was funny. Kids were climbing all over each other. Lots of laughing and groaning and joking.

  Then suddenly, the room grew silent.

  “I…can't move,” a girl said. She was on her hands and knees on the mat.

  “Whoa. Weird. I'm stuck here, too,” another girl said from down on the floor.

  “Hey, what's up with this?” a boy cried.

  I gazed around the room in horror. My friends had all frozen in place, as if they were locked in a photograph.

  “Max —help me up!” a boy shouted.

  “You're joking about this, right?” Billy Wilbur said. He was flat on his back between the mats. I watched him struggle and strain to sit up.

  “My back is glued to the floor!” he wailed.

  “I'm stuck to Sarah!” a girl named Susan shrieked. “Help us! We're totally stuck together!”

  “My shoes are glued to the rug! I can't move!” someone cried.

  I looked for my mom. I didn't see her.

  Kids were struggling and straining, grunting and groaning as they tried to stand up. A boy under a pile of kids started to cry. Other kids began screaming.

  “Let us up! Let us up!”

  “Help me! I can't move!”

  “We're all glued together!”

  Frozen in horror and disbelief, I stared at my friends as they screamed and struggled, unable to move. Finally, I shook off my fright.

  I reached down to pull a boy up —and realized I couldn't move either.

  My feet were glued to the floor!

  22

  I MADE A GRAB for my friend's hand. Missed. And fell facedown onto the carpet.

  I struggled to pull myself up.

  But now my hands and knees were glued down.

  “Help us!”

  “Somebody call 911!”

  “This is totally impossible!”

  “Max, is this one of your stupid magic tricks?”

  The cries and shouts rang against the walls as kids pulled and twisted themselves, pushed and strained. But no one could move.

  It wasn't one of my tricks, I knew.

  It had to be one of Nicky and Tara's.

  “Nicky! Tara! Let everyone go!” I shouted. “I'm sorry! Do you hear me? I'm sorry! I should have invited you!”

  A hush fell over the room.

  “Max? Who are you talking to?” the girl named Susan asked.

  “Nicky? Tara?” I cried. “I know you can hear me!”

  “Max, you're freaking us out!” Susan said. “There's no one here named Nicky or Tara.”

  “Good trick, Max,” Willy Wilbur said. “You got us all scared. Now let us up. I'm warning you, dude.”

  “Yeah. I'm warning you too,” his brother added. “If I could raise my fists off the floor, I'd be pounding you with them.”

  “Tara? Is this one of your spells?” I called out.

  I struggled to lift my right hand off the carpet. But it wouldn't budge.

  “Tara? Did you get this spell from that old spell book you have?” I cried. “This isn't funny. We're not enjoying this.”

  No reply.

  “You've gone too far this time!” I shouted.

  “Max, we know you're not talking to anyone real,” Sarah said. “Please —stop the magic trick and let us up.”

  “Yeah. We're all impressed,” Willy Wilbur said. “But let us up so we can punch out your lights.”

  “This is the worst party I've ever gone to,” I heard someone mutter.

  “Worst party in history,” someone else whispered.

  “We're gonna get you for this,” Billy Wilbur growled.

  I ignored them and called out to Nicky and Tara again. “I'm sorry!” I shouted. “Did you hear me? I've apologized six times. So stop this! Let my friends get up!”

  I let out a gasp as Nicky and Tara suddenly appeared in the doorway. They both stood awkwardly, jerking their arms around as if trying to balance.

  “We just got here, Max,” Tara said.

  “And we're frozen too!” Nicky exclaimed.

  “I'm glued to the floor!” Tara wailed. “It's not us, Max!”

  “Who is doing this?” Nicky cried.

  I heard a sound behind me. A crackling sound. Some short pops.

  I turned —just in time to see the birthday cake explode.

  23

  EVERYONE SCREAMED AT ONCE.

  The cake blew up with a deafening roar. Chunks of white and chocolate cake shot across the room. They splattered the walls and ceiling and dropped onto my friends.

  A thick glob of chocolate icing slopped into Willy Wilbur's face and dripped down his shirt. Kids were sputtering and shouting.

  And suddenly, they were on their feet.

  I saw kids stand up and stretch and help other kids up to test their arms and legs.

  Kids were checking out their hands. Making sure their knees worked.

  I lurched forward, startled that I could walk again. My shoes slid in a puddle of chocolate icing. I grabbed the back of a chair to keep my balance.

  I helped Susan and Sarah to their feet. Then I turned and saw the smoke shooting up from the remains of the cake.

  A column of thick black smoke hissed up to the ceiling.

  Kids were running now. Pushing each other, stampeding for the front door.

  I stood and watched the smoke as it divided in two. It hissed and crackled, billowing off the ceiling. Two waves of smoke now, f loating over my head.

  Swirling, crackling, the smoke lowered itself over me. And I saw two figures form, like dark clouds.

  The two dark-winged creatures sailed up, just beneath the ceiling, like the shadow bats you make with your hands. Just like those bats — except ten times as big.

  My mouth dropped open in horror. My breath caught in my throat.

  I stared up at these two bats, formed from the smoke of the cake explosion. I stared up at them, trembling as they circled me slowly.

  The two shadow bats circled me, round and round —till I shut my eyes from dizziness. And over the whistle and hiss of the flying smoke creatures, I heard Nicky and Tara calling to me.

  “Shades!” I heard Nicky scream, his voice high and shrill with terror.

  “Max, they are shades!” Tara cried. “Not human, not ghost! Shades from the underworld!”

  “The shades are the ones making all the problems!” Nicky called. “They did it all. They ruined your party.”

  With a rush of hot wind, the two shades swooped in on me, covering me in smoke. Smothering me.

  I started to cough. I couldn't breathe.

  “Help me!” I cried to Nicky and Tara. “Do something!”

  I couldn't hear a reply.

  The twin smoke bats wrapped themselves around me, covering me in a hot, choking darkness.

  I shielded my face with my arms, trying to protect myself. I struggled to breathe. My throat and chest burned with each breath.

  Sputtering, coughing, I felt myself rising from the floor
.

  “Help! Put me down!” I gasped.

  They were carrying me, lifting me off the floor and sweeping me away.

  “Nicky! Tara!”

  I tried to call to my friends. But my words were swallowed by the thick, steaming smoke.

  I was moving fast now. Being swept away.

  I couldn't see.

  I couldn't breathe.

  Where were they taking me?

  What did they want with me?

  24

  LIKE FLOATING IN A dream, I thought.

  Floating blindly, not asleep.

  But not awake, either.

  I had the terrifying thought that I was going to float like this forever, inside a heavy black cloud.

  Float without seeing, without breathing, without being anywhere.

  Was I still alive? Or had the bats smothered me to death?

  The burning pain in my throat, my nostrils, my chest told me I was still alive. My hacking coughs and loud, wheezing breaths told me I was still alive.

  But how long would these two shades hold me in their smoky grip?

  How long would I float, helpless, like this?

  The question was answered quickly.

  I landed hard on both feet. My body was jarred as pain shot up my legs and back, to my shoulders.

  “Owww. Oh, help.”

  I stumbled forward into the smoke.

  And the haze started to lift. Slowly, the black turned to gray. And then I could see the faint image of tiles on a wall in front of me.

  Resting my hands on my knees, I bent forward and concentrated on breathing. I took a long, cool breath, then slowly let it out.

  Then another.

  The dizziness started to fade. I watched the two shades drift away from me.

  They whirled low over my head, tangling together. Two smoke bats hissing as they darted back and forth above me.

  And then they rose up high, twisting round and round each other —and vanished through the yellow tile wall.

  Still breathing hard, I stared at the wall. I waited for them to come shooting back.

  But … no sign of them.

  Trembling, I spun around. Where was I? Where had they carried me?

  My teeth were chattering. I tightened my jaw hard, trying to stop them.

  Bright white moonlight poured through a long window. The light shimmered off the high ceiling and sparkled in front of me.

  In the water.

  Water?

  I shook my head, trying to clear it.

  And I finally recognized where I was standing.

  The new swimming pool at school. The swimming pool that I'd helped to dedicate just a few months before.

  I was standing at the edge of the pool. With a gasp, I stumbled back until I was pressed against the wall.

  No lights were on. The moonlight shimmering in the pool made the only light. The water splashed softly, lapping against the sides of the pool.

  Why did the shades bring me here?

  I slid down to the floor and sat cross-legged on the cool tiles. I took deep breaths, inhaling the sharp chlorine smell, and tried to calm myself down.

  Tried to think clearly.

  Why am I here? Why?

  Nothing I thought about made any sense. I stared at the sparkling lights dancing on the water. And I shivered.

  Then I heard a sharp cough.

  Footsteps clicking on the tiles. I wasn't alone.

  Feeling my whole body tense, I jumped to my feet.

  “Who —who's there?” My question came out in a choked whisper.

  I gasped when I recognized the short, chubby figure who stepped out of the shadows.

  Mayor Stank!

  He came walking toward me quickly along the edge of the pool, shoes clicking on the hard floor. He wore a gray business suit with a bright yellow necktie.

  He had a wide grin on his face. His bald head ref lected the twinkling moonlight, making him look all silvery and strange.

  “Remember me, Max?” he called. His voice echoed hollowly off the walls.

  “Why —y-yes,” I stammered, pressing myself against the wall to stop my trembling.

  He stopped a few feet from me. His eyes glowed brightly. His grin grew wider. “Remember me, Max? Mayor Stank? Remember? You pushed me into the pool? On TV? In front of the whole town? Remember?”

  I just nodded. I couldn't speak.

  “Well, I don't forget things, Max,” he said, lowering his voice to a growl. “It's payback time.”

  25

  HE MOVED CLOSER. Close enough for me to see the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead and on his bald head. He kept working his jaw, as if he had a wad of chewing gum in his mouth.

  His tiny black eyes were locked on mine.

  I pressed myself tightly against the cool wall. The lights danced in front of me. I wanted to shut my eyes, but I knew I couldn't.

  I knew I was in major trouble here.

  I broke the staring battle. I looked away. Turned my gaze to the gently lapping water.

  “Go ahead. Jump in,” he whispered.

  “Excuse me?” I blurted out. “Mayor Stank, I —”

  “Jump in, Max. Go ahead.”

  I took a few steps away from him. I wondered if I could just turn and run.

  Was the door open? Could I escape through the exit, or did he have it blocked off somehow?

  Were those two shades waiting for me on the other side of the door?

  My legs were shaking too hard to run.

  My heart pounded so hard, my chest ached. And I could feel my pulse pounding in my eardrums.

  Was he crazy? Why had he brought me here? To jump in the pool?

  “I'm a fair man, Max,” he said, keeping his steely gaze on me. “But I have no choice. I have to pay you back.”

  “Wh-why?” I choked out.

  He ignored my question. “Go ahead. Jump in the pool,” he said, working his jaw angrily. “Do two hundred laps, and we'll call it even.”

  “Huh?” I gasped. “I … I'm not a good swimmer. I sink. I can't do two hundred laps on dry land!”

  “Funny,” he growled. “But I'm not joking. Do two hundred laps, Max. Stop stalling. Do it. Now.”

  “I can't do two hundred,” I said in a shaky voice. “How about five? A compromise? What do you say? Five?”

  He scowled at me. “Don't make me laugh so hard. You'll give me wrinkles.”

  “I —I'm serious,” I stammered. “I can't —”

  “You're going in the water, Max,” he said softly. “You can come out when you've done two hundred laps.”

  “But —but —” I sputtered. “My skin! I'll get all pruney. How will that look for my class pictures on Monday?”

  “I'm a fair man,” he said again. He wiped sweat off his bald head with the palm of his hand. “You pushed me in the pool. You made a fool of me. Now I just want us to be even.”

  “You're crazy! You can't do this!” I cried, balling my hands into tight fists. I felt my anger start to burn my chest. “I don't care if you're the mayor! You can't force me to swim laps!”

  Mayor Stank let out a long sigh. He raised his eyes and peered over my shoulder. “Quentin,” he said, “push your friend Max into the water.”

  I turned and saw Quentin step out from the shadows.

  “Push him in,” Mayor Stank ordered.

  Quentin hesitated for a long moment. Then he said, “Okay, Dad.”

  26

  HUH? DAD?

  Did he say Dad?

  Quentin grabbed my shoulder. He gave me a gentle push toward the edge of the pool.

  His blond hair caught the moonlight from the window and made his face glow. I saw his chin tremble. He kept his eyes on the pool. He wouldn't look at me.

  “I'm sorry, Max,” he whispered. “I have to do what my dad says.”

  He pushed me forward until I was just inches from the water. I spun around to face him. He still wouldn't look me in the eye.

  “Your dad is the mayor?” I
said. “You never told me.”

  “Quentin, get a move on. Stop stalling,” Mayor Stank called. Again, he wiped sweat off his bald head with one hand. “Let's get the Max Olympics started.”

  Quentin had both hands on my shoulders. I tried to push back, but he was surprisingly strong.

  He lowered his head so that his dad wouldn't see him talk to me. “I wanted to be your friend,” he whispered. “But Dad wouldn't let me. He forced me to spy on you. He forced me to get you here.”

  My heels poked over the edge of the pool. “Don't I even get to undress?” I called to Mayor Stank. “How about I go home and get my swim trunks?”

  “You pushed me in when I was wearing my best suit,” he replied. “I'm just trying to be fair, Max. You can't criticize me for trying to be fair, can you?”

  “It's hard to say what's fair and what's not fair,” I said. “Maybe we should sit down somewhere. You know. In a nice, dry place. And talk about it.”

  “Nice try,” the mayor said, narrowing his tiny eyes at me.

  “He made me do everything,” Quentin whispered. “I had found an old spell book in your house. He made me use a spell from it to call up those two shades. I was so frightened.”

  “Me too,” I muttered.

  “I'm really sorry I messed up your party,” Quentin said.

  I gazed over my shoulder at the sparkling water.

  “No way can I swim all those laps,” I told Quentin.

  “My dad really holds a grudge,” Quentin whispered. “It's one of his biggest faults.”

  “What are you two yakking about?” Mayor Stank cried angrily. “Shut up and push him in. Then I've got a good job for you, Quentin. You can be the official scorekeeper. You get to count the laps.”

  “That'll be an easy job,” I muttered. “You only have to count to three or four. And then you can watch me drown!”

  “I'm really sorry, Max,” Quentin whispered. “I hope you'll accept my apology.”

  He spun me around and gave me a hard push.

  I searched for my ghost friends. “Nicky? Tara?” I shouted. “Are you here? Help me!”

  27

  “NICKY? TARA?”

  My voice echoed off the tile walls.

  I shut my eyes, praying to hear their voices. But no. The only sound was my harsh breathing and the soft splash of the water in front of me.