Ghouls Gone Wild

“Our friend who won't move away and leave us,” Nicky added.

  I swallowed again. I could see they both were frightened. “Maybe you don't need to fight them,” I said. “Maybe the ghouls will just go away.”

  “Ghouls never just go away,” Tara replied. “Once they've found a cozy place to live and make mischief, they stay forever.”

  “But—but—”

  Were these ghouls really vicious? I didn't want my friends to get hurt.

  “Don't worry, Max,” Tara said. “We'll sneak up on them. We'll scare them to death.”

  Nicky smacked his fist against his palm. “They won't know what hit them,” he said. “Bam, boom. They're history.” Tough words—but I noticed his voice cracked.

  I started toward the door. “I'm coming with you.”

  Tara pushed me back again. “Hel-lo. How can we surprise them if you come with us?”

  “Okay, okay.” I dropped back onto my bed.

  Nicky clicked off the dresser lamp. We were left in a deep darkness.

  Then the two ghosts disappeared into the hall.

  “Good luck,” I whispered.

  They didn't reply.

  I stared into the blackness, hugging myself to stop my shivers. I sat up straight, alert to every sound.

  I waited…and I listened.

  20

  THE SILENCE RANG in my ears.

  I shut my eyes and tried to picture what the two ghouls looked like. How did Nicky and Tara plan to scare them? Did my friends really believe the ghouls would just turn and run?

  My heart started to beat like a bass drum. I clasped my hands together. They were wet and cold.

  I should have talked them out of this, I decided. What makes them think they can fight two vicious ghouls?

  The questions kept repeating in my mind as I listened to the silence. Staring into the blackness, I just wanted it to be over.

  Silence.

  Silence. So quiet I could hear the hum of the refrigerator as it clicked on downstairs.

  More silence.

  And then a loud thud made me jump to my feet.

  I heard a choked gasp. Another thud.

  I shut my eyes tight. My hands were squeezed into tight fists. My pajama shirt was damp, clinging to my back.

  I heard a hard bump. The sound of someone hitting the floor. More gasps. More thuds.

  And then a high, shrill laugh. Not a human laugh at all. An eerie laugh like an ambulance siren, rising and falling.

  I jumped to my feet and staggered to the doorway. I poked my head out into the hall.

  I heard scrapes and bumps, sounds of a struggle. But I couldn't see a thing.

  I heard a soft cry. And then a long, scraping sound—like someone sliding down the banister.

  Another shrill laugh. More hard bumps. Someone being heaved into the wall? Were they wrestling now?

  I jammed my hands over my ears. I couldn't stand it. My legs were trembling. I had to lean against the doorframe to keep from falling.

  I pictured my poor friends being beaten by two hideous ghouls. Wrestling on the hall rug. Being smothered by the creatures.

  Even with my hands pressed over my ears, I could hear the bumps and thuds of the battle.

  And then silence again.

  I lowered my hands to my sides. I hunched tensely in my bedroom doorway, every muscle tight.

  Silence. That ringing, hollow silence.

  I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

  “Nicky?” I called down the hall in a hoarse whisper. “Nicky? Tara? Are you okay?”

  No answer.

  21

  HOW LONG DID THE SILENCE LAST? I don't know. I only know it was the most terrifying silence of my life. And it seemed to go on for hours!

  And then finally, I heard the scrape of shoes on the hall rug. A cough. A soft groan.

  Footsteps approaching me.

  “Nicky? Tara? Is that you?”

  Or was it the ghouls?

  Listening to the slow footsteps, I staggered back into my room. I clicked on the ceiling light.

  Nicky stepped into the doorway. I saw his hair standing on end as if he'd received an electric shock.

  And then I saw that he had an arm around Tara.

  He dragged her into my room. She was bent nearly in half. His left arm was wrapped around her waist. And his right arm…his right arm was missing!

  Then Tara stood up—and I opened my mouth in a scream of horror.

  “Tara!” I wailed to Nicky. “Her head!”

  Her head…No head on her shoulders. No head …

  22

  I SUDDENLY FELT DIZZY. I had to turn away.

  Nicky dragged his headless sister into the room with his one arm.

  “Is she … is she…?” I couldn't get any words out.

  “I'm okay,” Tara said.

  “Huh?” I gasped and stared at her shoulders— and at the spot above them, where her head should have been.

  “My head is just invisible,” she said. “The fight with the ghouls used up a lot of energy.”

  Nicky dropped Tara beside me on the bed. “My arm will come back too,” he said. “It's still there. See?” He reached out and touched my head with his invisible hand.

  “Why didn't you warn me?” I shouted. “You…you scared me to death!”

  I heard Tara sigh. “I wish we'd scared the ghouls to death. It would have been a lot easier.”

  I stared at her headless shoulders. “You mean…they're still here?”

  Nicky squeezed his invisible arm. “No. They're gone. But frightening them didn't work. We had to fight them.”

  “How?” I asked.

  Tara's face glimmered faintly. I could see her ears and her dangling earrings, and a little of her dark hair. Slowly, her head was coming back into view.

  She brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “They tried to smother us. They had big, blobby bodies. Sticky like bubble gum. They stuck themselves to our faces. We couldn't breathe.”

  “How'd you get them off?” I asked.

  “We blew bubbles,” Nicky said.

  Tara chuckled. “It was kinda funny. We blew big bubble gum bubbles in their skin—and popped them.”

  “That made big holes in the ghouls’ bodies,” Nicky said, still squeezing his missing arm. “They didn't like that. They made these horrible squealing sounds. Then they unstuck themselves from us and ran out the front door.”

  “I don't think we'll see them again,” Tara said.

  I let out a long whoosh of breath. “Thanks, guys,” I said. “You really were awesome. You…you risked everything for me. I know you're dead, but you risked your lives for me!”

  Tara's face came back completely. “Well, we don't want to lose you,” she said. She grinned at me.

  I suddenly felt guilty. How could I think of leaving them here all alone?

  “I don't want to lose you, either,” I said. “You're my best friends. You fought for me. You saved me from those ghouls. I don't want to move to Texas and leave you here. I want to stay and help you, the way you helped me.”

  “Thanks, Max,” Nicky said. “We were hoping you'd say that.”

  “You're all we've got,” Tara said.

  “Maybe we can find a way to stop my dad from moving us,” I said.

  Nicky and Tara vanished a few minutes after that. I tried to get back to sleep, but no way. I kept picturing them struggling with sticky, blobby ghouls. My stomach did a flip-flop each time I remembered Tara being helped into my room without a head.

  I was still wide awake when Mom shouted upstairs that it was time to get dressed for school. Yawning, I pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and dragged myself into the kitchen.

  Mom set down the phone and greeted me with a big smile. “Good news, Maxie,” she said. “The Marvins have decided to buy our house!”

  23

  THE SCHOOL DAY WENT BY in an unhappy blur. I couldn't think about anything except the Marvins moving into our house. And me leaving Nicky and Tara and moving to
Texas.

  Leaving them after they'd risked their lives for me …

  I saw that Traci Wayne wasn't in class, so I asked Ms. McDonald about her. She said that Traci had finally stopped howling. But her face was red and swollen. Her mom had said she looked like an overripe tomato. So she wasn't ready to come back to school.

  I still wanted to invite her to my birthday party next month. But what if my birthday party was in Texas?

  After school, I found Nicky and Tara waiting for me in my room. They both looked pale and worried.

  “We have to do something,” Nicky said. “We have to find a way to stop your parents from moving.”

  Tara tugged her hat down over her ears. “Max, what if you told your mom about us? She might feel sorry for Nicky and me, and—”

  I shook my head. “My mom doesn't believe in ghosts,” I said. “I tried to tell her about you weeks ago. She told me to stop making up stories. If I tell her again, she'll just say I'm making up a dumb story because I don't want to move.”

  “But what if Nicky and I proved to her that we exist?” Tara said.

  Nicky stopped pacing. His dark eyes flashed with excitement. “Yeah, dude. Your mom can't see us. But there are lots of ways we can show her we're in the room.”

  I rested my head in my hands and thought hard. Maybe…maybe it would work.

  Maybe we could prove to Mom that two ghost kids were in the house. And that they really needed our help. That we were the only ones who could help them …

  Then maybe Mom would talk Dad into staying here.

  I jumped to my feet. “Okay. Let's try it,” I said.

  They followed me downstairs. We found Mom in the den. She sat on the brown leather couch with her feet up on the coffee table. She had opera on the CD player, and she was reading a book.

  She raised her head and smiled as I walked in. She patted the cushion next to her.

  “You know, this room is so comfy and cozy. I really love this house,” she said. “I'm kind of sorry to leave it too.”

  “Uh…that's what I wanted to talk to you about,” I said. I sat down next to her.

  Mom hummed along with the opera.

  My heart started to pound. My mouth suddenly felt dry.

  “Go ahead, Max,” Tara said. “Tell her.”

  “Tell her we're standing right here,” Nicky said.

  “I'm getting to it,” I said. “Give me a chance.”

  Mom frowned at me. “Getting to what, Max?”

  “Well…” I took a deep breath. “I have something important to tell you…”

  24

  MOM BRUSHED THE HAIR off my forehead.

  I have very bouncy hair. It plopped back over my eyebrows.

  Mom brushed it back again, and it bounced over my face again.

  She gave up and smiled. “What is it, Max? You look so worried.”

  “We can't move,” I blurted out.

  Her smile faded. “Max, please—”

  “We can't leave because of my two ghost friends,” I said. I started talking as fast as I could. I wanted to get it all out before Mom told me I was crazy again.

  “There are two ghosts who live in this house, Mom, and they're my friends. I'm the only one who can see and hear them. And they need me. They need me to stay here with them. I have to stay here until their parents return.”

  Mom shook her head slowly. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Maxie, I'm sorry you're afraid of moving away from here,” she said softly. “But it will be okay. I promise.”

  “Mom, you don't understand,” I said. “It's not because I'm afraid. I'm not making this up. Really.”

  “Maxie, listen to me. Your ghost stories—”

  “I'm going to prove it,” I said, jumping to my feet. “If I prove there are ghosts here, will you listen to me, Mom?”

  Mom closed her book. She stared up at me.

  “You're going to prove there are ghosts in the room? Is this one of your magic tricks?”

  “No way,” I said. “No tricks. It's for real.”

  She crossed her arms in front of her. “Go ahead. I'm game. Prove it to me.”

  I took a deep breath.

  She really was listening this time.

  I turned to Nicky and Tara. I couldn't see them. Sometimes they go invisible.

  “Tara,” I said, “pick up my mom's book. Make it float around the room.”

  The book sat on Mom's lap. She moved her hands away from it. We both stared down at the book.

  “Nothing's happening,” Mom said.

  “Go ahead, Tara,” I said. “Show my mom you're here. Make the book float up in the air.”

  Mom and I both waited.

  I counted to ten.

  “Nicky? Tara? Where are you?” I asked, gazing around. I didn't see them anywhere.

  “Max, are you sure this isn't some kind of magic trick?” Mom asked. “It isn't working too well.”

  “It's not a trick,” I snapped. “Nicky? Tara? Stop kidding around. Pick up the couch pillows. Make them fly back and forth around the room. Come on. Hurry!”

  Mom turned and stared at the pillows. “Max? I don't get it,” she said. “Is this a joke?”

  “Nicky? Tara?” I cried, my voice cracking. “Show Mom you're here. Come on. Make the pillows fly.”

  Nothing.

  “Nicky? Tara?”

  I picked up a pillow. I tossed it into the air. “Nicky—catch!”

  The pillow dropped to the floor. I picked it up and tossed it high again. “The ghosts are throwing it!” I said. “Look, Mom.” I tossed the pillow again.

  “Max, give it up,” Mom said.

  “But—but—but—” I sputtered. “I don't understand it. They were here a minute ago. I—”

  She got to her feet. She wrapped me in a hug and pressed her cheek against mine. It felt warm and soft.

  “Maxie, listen to me,” she whispered. “I know moving away is a scary thing. Especially moving far away. But you don't have to make up ghost stories to change our minds.”

  “But Mom—”

  “We'll all be together,” Mom said. “Think of the move as a big adventure for all of us.”

  “Okay, Mom,” I whispered.

  What else could I say? Nicky and Tara had suddenly vanished. It happened to them all the time. They said they couldn't help it. But this was the worst possible time.

  And so Mom thought I was a big baby, making up ghost stories so she'd feel sorry for me.

  I had no choice. I turned and trudged up to my room.

  “Nicky? Tara?” I called, closing my bedroom door behind me. “Are you in here? Where did you go? Are you okay? Why did you disappear?”

  No reply.

  I sank onto my bed. Now what? I asked myself.

  I can't move to Texas and leave my good friends all alone in the world.

  But what can I do about it?

  25

  AFTER SCHOOL THE NEXT DAY, Quentin finally came home with me. I was really excited that he and I could finally share some tricks.

  I left him in the kitchen and hurried up to my bedroom. “Nicky? Tara? Are you back?” I cried. I glanced around the room.

  I still hadn't seen them since they'd disappeared in the den. I was starting to worry about them.

  I sighed. No sign of them.

  I hurried down to the kitchen and pulled out some snacks. “Watch this trick,” I said to Quentin. “Bet I can make this cookie disappear.”

  We made a whole bunch of cookies disappear. Then we went up to my room to show each other magic tricks.

  Quentin had brought over a black leather bag filled with his magic stuff. He set it down next to my desk. “You go first,” he said. “Let's see what you've got.”

  I did a few simple sight tricks first. I made a quarter disappear, and I pulled it from his ear. I took scissors and cut a piece of rope into three sections. Then I made the rope appear whole again. I waved a magic wand, and the wand turned into a bouquet of flowers.

  Baby st
uff.

  Quentin watched me the whole time with his arms crossed in front of him. His shiny blue eyes studied my tricks without blinking. He was concentrating hard.

  I finished with one of my harder tricks. I borrowed Quentin's baseball cap. I poured a pitcher of water into it. Then I swung the cap over him and pulled it down onto his head.

  No water. The cap was totally dry.

  “Not bad,” he said. “Very cool.”

  I grinned. “Thanks. I had a lot of accidents with that trick. But now I get it right most of the time.”

  Quentin brushed back his blond hair. “Show me how to do it?” he asked.

  “First show me your stuff,” I said. I dropped down on the edge of my bed to watch.

  He bent down to open his black case. He turned his back to block my view. He placed a lot of stuff on the desk. When he turned around, he had an egg in his hand.

  “I do a lot of card tricks,” he said. “But you probably know them all. So I'm going to start off with my best trick.”

  He held up the egg. “Keep your eye on the egg, Max. Don't let it out of your sight.”

  I leaned forward, resting my head in my hands, and gazed up at the egg.

  He stuck his hand out and shoved the egg toward my face. Then he pulled it back and swung his arm around twice. He closed his fist around the egg, hiding it.

  “Are you watching?” he asked. “This is a trick I've been hatching for a long time.”

  I stared at Quentin's fist. “Ta-daa!” he sang.

  He opened his hand—and in his palm sat a live chick.

  “Wow!” I cried. I jumped up from the bed and took a closer look. It really was a live chick. “Awesome!” I said. “That's outstanding!”

  Quentin grinned. He took a short bow. Then he turned and carefully set the chick down inside the bag.

  “Did you have it in your sleeve?” I asked. “Or did you have it in your other hand the whole time?”

  Before he could answer, the bedroom door swung open and Colin came bouncing in. He grinned his perfect, toothy grin at me as he checked out Quentin's magic gear on my desk.

  “Yo! Magic tricks,” he said. He turned to Quentin. “I'm into magic too.”

  “No way,” Quentin said.