Mostly Ghostly Freaks and Shrieks
I felt myself dissolving, fading away….
I saw Colin slide the rotten egg under Max's pillow. I watched him hurry out of the room.
“Later, Tara,” I whispered. “I'm … fading … fast.”
“Me … too,” she whispered. And then before we disappeared, she quickly added, “Know what's so totally scary about that guy who chased us? He could see us!”
“YO, AARON. IT'S MAX. What's up?”
I pressed the cell phone to my ear and gazed around my room. Something smelled bad. I wondered if Nicky and Tara were up to more evil tricks.
They totally messed me up in school today. And they broke my dad's precious wall bass in half. How would I ever explain it to him?
I never told Dad I was taking it. My plan had been to borrow it, then get it back up on the den wall before he came home from work.
Well, forget about that. I was in deep doo-doo.
And now my two ghost friends were hiding somewhere. Afraid to face me—and I didn't blame them.
But what was that yucko smell?
“Aaron, where were you?” I asked. “It's almost dinnertime. You were supposed to come here this afternoon, remember? We were going to print out this month's newsletter for our Stargate SG-1 club.”
On the other end of the line, I heard Aaron shout something to his mother. Then he came back on. “I got grounded, Max,” he said.
“Oh, wow,” I muttered. “Not again.”
Aaron is my best buddy in the whole world. But I don't see him too often. That's because he spends almost his entire life grounded.
“This time it's pretty bad,” he said. “And it's all because of a science experiment.”
“Excuse me?” I said. “Dude, what kind of science experiment?”
“I was testing the strength of different glues. You know. Every glue has a different stickiness to it. I wanted to see what kind of glue was the stickiest.”
I waited to hear the rest. “Go on, Aaron,” I said finally.
“Well … to make a long story short, I glued my sister's sneakers to the floor.”
“Kaytlin's sneakers?” I cried. “Was she in them when you glued them?”
“No. She wasn't home,” Aaron said. “Hey, I'm not stupid, dude. I wouldn't glue her sneakers to the floor if she was in them!”
“And how did you pull them up off the floor?” I asked.
“Couldn't,” Aaron replied. “That's why I'm so doomed. I used the strongest glue. Those sneakers will never come up.”
“Oh, wow,” I muttered again.
“And one more bad thing,” Aaron said.
“What's that?” I asked.
“They're glued down right in the middle of the living room.”
I let out another groan. I felt sorry for Aaron. He was a really good guy. He just could never resist doing science experiments on stuff that belonged to his little sister.
And he always got caught.
“So you're grounded for life again?” I asked.
“My parents are really angry. They say I'm not fit to live in the house,” Aaron said. “I have to live in a tent in the backyard. I'm only allowed inside for meals.”
“That's harsh,” I said. “What if you have to go to the bathroom?”
“Uh-oh,” he said. “I didn't think about that.”
“I guess the Stargate newsletter will have to wait,” I said.
“Well, Max, since you and I are the only members of the club, it can probably wait.”
“I have major news to tell you,” I said.
“Major news?”
“I mean, this may be the biggest, most totally exciting news of my life!” I said.
“More exciting than when you met that girl who knows Hilary Duff's cousin?”
“Aaron, this news is so totally unbelievable—”
I stopped because I heard a scream.
Aaron's scream on the other end of the phone.
A shrill, earsplitting screech of horror.
“Aaron? What's wrong?” I cried. “What happened? What's wrong?”
“MY AIR! MY AIR!” he wailed.
I gasped. I nearly dropped the phone. “Aaron? What's wrong? No air? You can't breathe?”
“No!” he cried. “I said my ear! My ear! It's totally stuck!”
“Huh? I don't understand,” I replied. “What about your ear?”
“Kaytlin did it!” Aaron shouted. “Ouch. She did it. She got her revenge. My ear! She put glue on my cell phone. It's … it's stuck to my ear!”
“Take it easy,” I said. “Take a deep breath. Then, very gently, try to slide it off.”
“It's stuck on,” Aaron said. “She really did it to me this time. It's stuck on for life!”
“Let me tell you my big news—” I started, trying to take his mind off his cell phone problem.
“Your big news?” he cried. “How about my big news? I'm going to have a phone hanging from my ear for the rest of my life!”
I heard Mom calling me down to dinner. “I've got to go,” I said. Aaron was screaming so loudly, I don't think he heard me. “Call you later,” I said.
“Great. I'll be here—right by the phone!” he screamed.
I clicked my cell phone off, slipped it into my jeans pocket, and hurried down to the kitchen.
Mom, Dad, and Colin were already sitting at the table. “I didn't have time to cook,” Mom said. “So we're having submarine sandwiches.”
“Awesome,” I said.
As I started to take my seat next to Colin, he picked up my plate and slid it onto my chair.
I couldn't stop myself. I sat on my sandwich.
Colin hee-hawed. “Gotcha again, little bro!”
Dad laughed too. He thinks Colin is a riot. “Hey, Max,” he boomed, “which end do you eat with?”
He and Colin yukked it up, laughing and pounding the table with their fists.
“That's not funny,” Mom said. Even though Colin and Dad gang up on me, Mom usually takes my side. “You shouldn't ruin good food, even for a joke.”
“It isn't ruined,” I said. I put my plate on the table. “It's just a little flat.”
Colin reached into my sandwich and pulled out some lettuce. He stuffed the lettuce up my nose.
“That's not funny at all,” Mom said.
“Yes it is,” Colin replied. “It looks like snot.”
He and Dad hee-hawed some more.
I didn't care. I was too excited about my big news.
“I have the most amazing news,” I said.
“Max, don't talk with a lettuce leaf in your nose,” Mom said.
“Oh. Sorry.” I pulled out the lettuce. “Listen to my news. Ballantine is coming to town!”
All three of them stared at me. “Who?” Mom and Dad asked at the same time.
“Ballantine,” I repeated. “You know. Ballantine the Nearly Amazing?”
“He's a magician?” Mom asked.
“Only one of the most famous magicians in the world!” I exclaimed. “He's coming to our town. And he's holding open auditions for young magicians.”
Colin giggled. “Maybe he'll wave his wand and make you disappear.”
“It's an awesome opportunity,” I said, ignoring my brother. “Ballantine is taking on three students. He's going to teach them and help them with their magic. And if he chooses me …”
I stopped talking. I saw something float toward the dinner table.
An egg.
Nicky or Tara must be carrying it, I realized.
It smelled sour and pukey.
It must have been the egg that smelled so bad in my room, I realized. A rotten egg.
I watched as it floated toward Colin.
“That is very exciting,” Mom said. “You'd better practice hard, Max.”
The rotten egg lowered itself toward Colin's plate.
“If Ballantine likes me, I could be the next big magic star!” I said. “I could be on TV and everything.”
“We all could come watch you perfor
m,” Mom said.
I watched the egg slide into Colin's submarine sandwich.
Colin didn't see it. He slapped me on the back, so hard that my eyeballs practically flew out of my head.
“Hey, Maxie, what stinks in here?” He sniffed me. “You need to take a shower,” he said.
He lifted the sub with both hands. “I can do magic, too. Watch this sandwich disappear before your eyes!” Then he shoved it into his mouth and began chomping away.
The sandwich was almost gone when he suddenly stopped his loud, furious chewing and swallowing.
A sick look of horror spread over his face. He turned green. Really! Pale green.
“I'm … going … to … hurl!” he murmured.
Holding both hands over his mouth, he jumped up and tore out of the room.
I wanted to laugh. But I turned and saw Dad glaring at me angrily. “Max,” he boomed, “see what you did? Why did you make your brother eat so fast? You made him sick!”
“MAX, WHERE ARE YOU going?”
I had just stepped out the front door and started down the driveway when I heard Tara call me.
It was a damp, warmish Saturday morning. Gray clouds rolled low overhead. Gusts of wind sent the flowers in our little garden bending one way, then the other.
“Hey, Max—wait up!” Nicky called.
“Not now. I'm in a hurry,” I said. I still hadn't forgiven them for the bass incident on Pet Day.
Nicky and Tara appeared at my sides. Tara grabbed my arm. “Maxie, we haven't had any time to hang out. Are we still friends?”
“I don't have time to hang out right now,” I said. “I have to get to the magic store in town. I'm going to audition for Ballantine the Nearly Amazing. I'm going to show him my best card tricks.”
I felt the deck of trick cards in my jeans pocket. I was so nervous, I'd almost forgotten them.
“Wow.” Nicky shook his head. “Dude, that's big. That's way big.”
“Bye,” I said. I moved away from them and started to hurry down the street. Mom couldn't drive me, so I had to take the Miller Street bus into town.
“Don't be tense,” Tara said, floating after me. They both hovered two or three inches above the ground. “What happens if you pass the test today?”
“Today is like a pretest,” I said. “Today I only get to do one trick. If he likes it, I get to do a real performance for him later.”
“You are so there,” Nicky said. “He'll like you.”
“Yes, you're going to totally impress him,” Tara said, taking my arm again. “Know why?”
I squinted at her. “Why?”
“Because we're gonna help you!” Tara replied.
“Oh no!” I screamed, spinning around to face them. “No way!”
“Maxie, calm down,” Tara said.
I started to jog. “You're gonna make me miss the bus.”
“You know we can help you,” Nicky insisted, floating after me. He was at least a foot off the ground now.
I suddenly wished I could fly too. I'd fly away from them!
“Max, we'll make things float for you,” Tara said. “We'll make things fly up in the air.”
“Yeah,” Nicky agreed. “When we finish doing our tricks, Ballantine's head will be spinning!”
“Ooh—that's a good trick!” Tara exclaimed. “Maybe we could make Ballantine's head spin around a few times. That would impress him!”
“I don't want his head to spin,” I said through gritted teeth. I stopped jogging and turned to face them.
“I have to do this on my own,” I said. “You understand that, don't you? You're my friends. I know you only want to help. But you always manage to mess things up, and—”
I realized they weren't listening to me. They were staring over my shoulder. They both suddenly looked very frightened.
“What's wrong?” I asked.
“There he is again,” Nicky whispered.
“Who?” I asked. I spun around. I didn't see anyone.
“He's following us,” Tara said. “You can't see him. He ducked behind that mailbox.”
I blinked. “Someone is following you? Someone else can see you?”
They both nodded.
“On the count of three,” Tara said, “we run. Ready?”
I stared at the mailbox. I saw someone peek out from behind it. A man with a white beard. Dressed in black.
“Onetwothree,” Tara whispered in one breath.
We took off. All three of us, running full speed down the sidewalk.
We jumped over a kid's bike lying across the walk, kept running, and crossed onto Miller. Squinting into the gray light, I could see the bus several blocks down.
I started to point to it. Then stopped when I saw the man in the black raincoat leap up behind us.
“No!” I screamed.
But he grabbed Nicky and Tara, one in each hand.
“Gotcha,” he growled.
“LET GO OF THEM!” I shouted.
I wanted to rush the guy. Maybe tackle him so he'd let my friends loose.
He wasn't very big. But something about him frightened me.
And there was one thing holding me back. I'm a total coward.
So instead of rushing him, I took a few steps away. I realized I was trembling all over.
He stared at me with bright blue eyes, round as marbles, under bushy white eyebrows. His white hair and short white beard were neatly trimmed. His face was wrinkled and red from running after us.
“Let us go!”
Nicky and Tara were both struggling and squirming to free themselves.
The man was breathing hard. But he kept his tight grip on them.
“Let us go!”
“I'm here to help you,” he said. He had a thin whisper of a voice. “Stop fighting me. I'm your friend.”
“Then let us go!” Nicky shouted again.
“Okay. No problem.” The man opened his hands and released my two friends.
Nicky and Tara jumped away from him.
I stood studying the little man. Was he telling the truth? Was he a friend?
“How come you can see us?” Nicky demanded.
“If you are our friend, why have you been following us?” Tara asked.
“I wanted to make sure I had the right kids,” the man replied. “I didn't want to scare you. But I had to be absolutely sure.”
“Why do you want us? Why should we believe you?” Nicky asked.
I watched the Miller Street bus rumble past. I let out a sigh. Okay. I'll catch the next one, I decided. They come by every half hour.
“I can't answer your questions out here,” the man told Nicky and Tara. “You must trust me. And you must come with me—now.”
“TRUST YOU? WHY SHOULD we trust you?” Tara cried. “Let's go, Nicky. Max.” She tugged her brother away.
The little man turned his shiny blue eyes on her. “I worked with your parents,” he said softly.
Nicky and Tara stopped and turned around.
“My name is Dr. Samuel Smollet,” the man said. “I'm a scientist. And an expert in the spirit world. I worked with your parents on their ghost project.”
Nicky and Tara studied him. I started to feel a little calmer. The man seemed kindly and sincere. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“You knew our parents?” Tara asked.
He nodded. “I was there when they started their ghost experiments. I helped them capture evil ghosts and hold them prisoner.”
The wind made his raincoat flap behind him. He wore a black suit underneath it, a white shirt with a stiff collar, and a plain blue tie.
“Your parents are brilliant scientists,” he said. “Oh. Sorry. I mean they were brilliant scientists.”
“And what do you want with Nicky and Tara?” I asked.
He kept his eyes on them. “I think I can help you,” he said.
“Help us? How?” Tara hung back. I could tell she was still suspicious.
Dr. Smollet rubbed his beard. “Where a
re your parents?” he asked. “I can help them, too.”
Nicky kicked a clump of dirt off the sidewalk. “We don't know where they went,” he said. “They've been gone a long time.”
Tara crossed her arms in front of her chest. “How can you help us?” she demanded.
A smile slowly spread over Dr. Smollet's face, making his cheeks wrinkle. “I have someone with me. At my lab,” he said. “His name is Mr. Harvey. I believe he can help bring you back to life.”
Nicky and Tara both gasped.
“You're kidding,” Tara blurted out.
Dr. Smollet's smile faded. “I'm not kidding. I think I know how to do it. I wish your parents were here. I owe them a lot. I want to help them.”
Nicky sighed. “I wish they were here too,” he murmured.
I felt the deck of cards in my pocket. Ballantine the Nearly Amazing was already at the magic store. I wanted to get there to perform for him.
Tara still had her arms crossed. “How can you bring us back to life?” she asked Dr. Smollet.
He pulled his raincoat around him. “I can't do it here in the middle of the street,” he said, glancing around. “I need for you to come to my lab.”
“Where's your lab?” Nicky asked.
Dr. Smollet pointed with his head. “On the other side of town,” he said. “I'll take you there. You can meet Mr. Harvey. Then you can decide if you want me to help you.”
Tara pulled back. “You're a total stranger. You want us to go with you?”
Dr. Smollet shrugged. “I only want to help you. If your parents were here, they would tell you to trust me. I don't know what else I can say.”
He pointed again. “My lab is just on the other side of town. You only have to stay a few minutes to meet Mr. Harvey. Then I will take you anywhere you want to go.”
Nicky, Tara, and I huddled on the curb. I heard a cat crying from the house behind us. An SUV rolled past, loud rap music blasting from its open windows.
“Is this guy for real?” Tara whispered.
“I think he's telling the truth,” Nicky said.
I glanced at Dr. Smollet. “It might be some kind of trap,” I said.
“If it is a trap, Nicky and I will just go invisible,” Tara said. “No problem.”
“It's one of the good things about being a ghost,” Nicky said.