Goosebumps Books Online

9 Are you Terrified Yet - Goosebumps 2000

2012-02-21T03:34:00.000-08:00

I let out a scream as the huge insect
scraped the back of my neck. I could feel its
pincers prickle my skin.
My hand shot up to my neck. I grabbed the
bug. "Whoooa!" I nearly toppled off my
bike.
I braked hard. Caught my balance.
And stared down at the brown leaf crinkled in my
hand.
A leaf? A dead leaf?
Not a huge, disgusting insect.
"Oh, wow." With a groan, I crumpled the
leaf and tossed it to the street.
Craig, remember your promise, I
scolded myself. You're starting a new school--and a
new life. You never heard the word wimp before.
You never heard the name Fraidy Cat.
That's all in the past, I reminded myself. You
left those names behind at your old school.
Starting today, you're going to be brave,
Craig. You're going to be fearless.
You're going to be a superhero!
My bike tire crunched over the brown leaf
as I shifted gears and started pedaling again. I
shook my head.
Craig, how will you ever be a superhero if you
scream because a leaf scrapes your neck?
Well ... it was a pretty big leaf, I
told myself.
Do you ever have conversations with yourself on the way
to school in the morning? Do you ever talk to yourself about
what you plan to do and not do?
Well, I do. My name is Craig
Morgenstern. I turned twelve a few weeks
ago.
My family moved to Middle Valley, a
little town in Ohio that you've probably never
heard of. It's not in the middle of anything, and it
doesn't even have a valley. But Middle
Valley means a lot to me.
It means I can start a whole new life.
Know what the kids at my old school called
me?
Can-Can-Can-Craig.
That's because I stammer when I'm frightened. And
since I'm frightened all the time, I stammer a
lot.
Can-Can-Can-Craig.
They thought that was so funny. But every time someone
called me that, I just wanted to sink into the ground and
disappear forever.
Some people are braver than others--and just about
everyone is braver than me.
Maybe it's because most kids my age are
bigger than me. I'm short and very skinny. I have
crazy brown hair that refuses to stay down.
Most of the time, my hair looks as if it's
standing straight up in fright!
Kids at my old school loved to make me
scream.
They would jump out at me from their lockers. And
sneak up behind me and pinch me. Or drop bugs
and worms and things down my back.
I won't even tell you what they did to me
last Halloween. I start to shake just thinking about
it.
But that's old news.
No way anyone at Middle Valley
Middle School will ever call me
Can-Can-Can-Craig.
Because I'm the new me.
Of course I felt nervous starting a new
school. My hands were cold and sweaty on the
handlebars of my bike. My leg muscles
kept cramping up as I pedaled downhill.
But nervous is normal--right? Nervous
isn't the same as scared.
The morning breeze felt cool on my hot
cheeks. The sun was still a red ball, floating low
over the rooftops. The leaves shimmering on the
trees were bright shades of red and yellow. Fall
had started early this year.
A maroon van filled with kids and dogs
rumbled past me. The dogs barked and frantically
pawed the back window as the van rolled by.
I shifted gears again. The hill leading down
to the school was pretty steep.
I crossed a street and passed a group of
kids. It was easy to tell this was the first day of
school. They were all talking at once, very
excited. And their backpacks were all new and
clean and stiff-looking.
Most of the kids seemed to be about my age. I
wondered if any of them would be my friends.
I watched them cross the street, thinking about
how hard it is to make new friends.
I should have kept my eye on the road.
My front tire hit something--a rock, I
think. Before I could cry out or catch my balance,
the bike skidded ... skidded ... and toppled
over.
My hands flew up.
I hit the pavement hard.
Pain shot up my side.
The bike fell on top of me. One handlebar
jabbed into my ribs.
I groaned and waited for the pain to fade. Then
I started to push the bike off me.
But before I could move, I saw a blue car
rolling down the hill.
I heard a baby cry. A high, shrill
wail ... from the backseat.
And behind the wheel--nobody!
No driver. No driver ...
The baby screaming.
The car rolling faster now, about to run right over
me.



I froze in panic.
But the baby's scream forced me to move. My
arms and legs all kicked out at once, like a
bug on its back.
I shoved the bike off me and jumped to my
feet.
The blue car rolled faster. It looked like a
roller-coaster car zooming down a track.
Hunched in the middle of the street, I blinked
once. Twice. Trying to make a driver
appear behind the wheel.
But no. No driver.
And the car rolled toward me. A few feet
away. The baby howling in terror.
I heard another cry--and raised my eyes
to the top of the hill. "My baby! My baby!"
A red-haired woman came running frantically
down the hill, both arms churning the air, her
yellow jacket flying behind her like a cape.
I sucked in a deep breath. And moved to the
driver's side.
Here it comes! Here it comes!
I didn't think. No time to make a plan.
I readied myself. Tightened every muscle. Timed
it ... timed it ...
As the car rolled past, I grabbed for the door
handle.
And missed.
"Oh, no!" A cry escaped my throat as
my hand hit the door.
I made a wild leap.
Hit the side of the car and bounced off. I landed
on my knees at the side of the street.
"Noooooo!"
I heard others screaming now. And glimpsed the
red-haired woman, her hands pumping, her scream
like a chant: "My baby! My baby!"
I turned to see the car rolling faster now,
rocketing down the hill--to an intersection. I
saw a red traffic light. Kids crossing. The
intersection crowded with kids.
Craig, get moving! I ordered myself.
Save that baby!
I forced my legs to run. Stumbling, staggering,
I chased after the car. Off-balance, my head
spinning, the baby's shrill wails ringing in my
ears, I caught up with the car.
Ran alongside it.
Reached out both hands. Stretched ...
Stretched for the door handle.
No. I can't reach it, I saw. I can't
catch it.
I can't ...
Down below, I saw kids crossing the street.
"Look out! Look out!" I screamed to them.
Inside the car, I saw tiny pink hands waving
wildly in the backseat.
I struggled to run faster.
I reached out ... reached out ...
Missed again.



Then I grabbed it. My hand tightened around the
handle.
Running as fast as I could to keep up with the car,
I pulled open the car door.
I leaped headfirst into the front seat.
The baby wailed and thrashed its little arms. It
squirmed and struggled in its car seat.
I pushed myself up. Gasping, I lowered my
foot. It bumped the brake pedal.
I raised my foot--and slammed it down
hard.
The car lurched. And rocked to a stop.
I bounced forward. My head hit the
windshield.
"Ohhh." Pain shot down my body. I
shut my eyes.
The hard jolt of the car made the baby stop
crying. Outside, I could hear kids shouting.
Loud cries of surprise and alarm.
I did it, I realized. I stopped the car in
time.
I could feel the blood pulsing at my
temples. I felt so dizzy ... so dizzy,
I couldn't hold my head up.
Everything went bright red. The red faded to white.
A throbbing white light.
I think I started to faint.
But the mother's shouts snapped me awake. "My
baby! My baby!"
The back door flew open. The red-haired
woman leaned into the car. She unfastened the baby
and lifted it in her arms.
I sat behind the wheel, still gasping for breath.
My whole body started to quake and shake.
Did I really do that? I asked myself.
I climbed dizzily out of the car. I rubbed
my forehead. It still ached from bumping the windshield.
Kids surrounded the car, all talking at
once, all staring at me.
Hugging her baby tight, the woman came
hurrying over to me.
"That's the bravest thing I ever saw!" she
declared. She hugged me with her free hand. "You are
a hero!"
I could feel my face growing hot, and I
knew I was blushing.
Me? A hero?
Some kids started to cheer. Someone slapped me
on the back.
The woman had tears running down her face.
"I got out of the car to mail a letter," she
explained. "I didn't see the car rolling
downhill. It ... it could have been a tragedy."
"Yeah. I guess ...," I murmured. I
didn't know what to say.
I think I was in shock. My head was spinning.
I couldn't feel my feet touching the ground. I
was numb!
The woman shifted the baby to her other arm.
Then she turned to the crowd. "Did you see what
this boy did? He jumped off his bike and threw
his body against the car to stop it!"
Well ... that wasn't exactly right. Not
exactly the way it happened. But with
everyone staring and clapping and talking, I didn't
feel like arguing.
"He was nearly killed!" the woman
exclaimed, wiping away tears. "But he risked
his life to save my baby and all the kids in the
street. I never saw anything so brave!"
Another loud cheer rose up.
I jammed my hands into my jeans pockets,
trying to stop from shaking.
I didn't feel brave. I didn't feel
like a hero. I knew that my big rescue was
pretty much an accident.
I mean, I didn't jump off my bike.
I fell!
And then, when I saw that car coming at me, I
didn't know what I was doing!
As the crowd cheered and congratulated me, I
felt like confessing. It was all just an accident.
I'm not really brave!
But I kept my mouth shut. I forced a
modest smile.
This is your big chance, Craig, I told
myself. This is a lucky moment for you. This is your
chance to make sure that no one ever calls you
Can-Can-Can-Craig again.
The woman hugged me again. She leaned into the car
and started to strap in the baby.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I spun
around.
I stared at a girl with black curly hair
and round black eyes.
"Are you the new kid in the sixth grade?" she
asked. She had a smooth, low voice, a
grownup's voice. "I heard there was a new
kid in our class this year."
She wore a black vest over a white top,
a short black skirt over black tights.
I nodded. "I guess." If only I could
get my heart to stop racing. And my legs to stop
trembling.
"I'm in your class," she announced. "I'm
Amy Suskind."
She introduced me to the two guys with her--
Travis Walker and Brad Caperton.
"They're in our class too," Amy said.
"I'm Craig Morgenstern," I told them,
my voice still breathless and shaky.
Travis and Brad gazed at me
suspiciously. They were both tall and lean.
Brad had short, spiky dark hair.
He wore a black denim jacket, a blue
T-shirt, and faded jeans, torn at both
knees.
Travis had freckles on his nose and
cheeks. He had intense green eyes. He
wore a Cleveland Indians cap pulled down
low over his forehead. A tiny silver ring gleamed
in one earlobe.
Amy's round dark eyes peered into mine.
"Craig, are you always this brave?" she asked.
"Uh ... yeah. I guess so," I
replied.
Brad narrowed his eyes at me. His lips
formed a sneer. "You mean you do stuff like this all the
time?"
I cleared my throat. "Well, yeah," I
said. "I try to. It keeps me from getting
bored."
What am I saying? I asked myself.
Why am I acting like such a jerk?
I guess I wanted to take advantage of
this lucky accident. No more Can-Can-Can-Craig.
Not ever again.
Little did I know how much total terror my
bragging would bring me.
Little did I know that my words would lead me into a
coffin.



A locker door slammed behind me. I jumped
a mile.
I instantly spun around to check if anyone
had seen me jump.
It was the second day of school, and I was
enjoying my new role as hero.
Kids I didn't know waved and nodded to me in
the hall. In the lunchroom on Monday, I
heard a tableful of really cute girls talking
about me. They kept glancing over to my table and
smiling.
Even some of the teachers flashed me a thumbs-up
as I passed them in the halls.
Craig, this is excellent, I told myself.
I think I'm going to like it here!
I caught myself strutting to class. I had
to remind myself not to get too carried away.
Deep down inside, you're still
Can-Can-Can-Craig, I told myself.
Amy and Travis came around the
corner, bumping each other playfully, trying
to slam one another into the wall.
"Everyone is still talking about what you did
yesterday," Amy said, giving Travis a hard
bump that sent him flying.
"Oh, that was nothing," I bragged. "Really.
What's the big deal?"
She laughed, tossing back her black
curls. Her dark eyes flashed. I could see
how much she admired me. I could see she looked
up to me--even though she was six inches taller!
She thinks you're great, Craig, I told
myself. Don't blow it.
Travis straightened his backpack on his
shoulders. "You want to do something brave?" he
asked.
"Well ..." I hesitated.
Travis motioned across the hall. "Help
Brad beat up his big brother."
Amy and I followed Travis's gaze.
Across the hall, a big, athletic-looking guy
was shoving Brad into an open locker. Brad was
struggling and squirming. But the big guy was too
strong for him.
"That's Brad's brother?" I murmured.
He looks really tough, I thought.
Sometimes I'm glad I'm an only child.
"That's Grant," Amy said in a whisper.
"He thinks because he's in ninth grade he can
push Brad around," Travis explained,
frowning.
I shuddered as Grant shoved Brad all the
way into the locker and slammed the door. A big
grin on his face, Grant turned and stomped
away. The floor seemed to shake under his heavy
footsteps.
I turned and found Amy and Travis both
staring at me.
"Uh ... Brad just has to stand up to his
brother," I said.
How lame can you get?
"Brad shouldn't let himself be pushed around," I
added. "I know I never would!"
Why did I say that?
Why am I acting like such a big shot?
The three of us hurried across the hall.
Travis pulled open the locker, and we tugged
Brad out.
He appeared dazed. He shook himself like a
dog trying to get dry and blinked several
times.
"Craig says you have to stand up to your brother,"
Amy reported.
"Excuse me?" Brad turned to me. "You
want to help me stand up to him?"
"Well ..." I swallowed my bub7um.
Careful, Craig, I warned myself. They already
think you're brave. You don't have to prove it
again.
How wrong can a person be?

I was walking home after school, humming
to myself, feeling good. The red and yellow leaves
shimmered in a warm breeze, warm as spring. The
sun beamed down in a clear blue sky.
I started up the steep hill. I had just
passed the corner where my daring rescue had taken
place when I heard an urgent call.
"Craig--hey! Stop! Craig!"
I turned and saw Amy running along the
sidewalk, her backpack bouncing wildly on
her shoulders. "Craig--help!"
Help?
"What's up?" I asked, trying to sound
casual.
"Quick--over here." She grabbed my arm and
tugged me around the corner. "Hurry!"
"What's up?" I repeated. I had a sinking
feeling in my stomach. Why did Amy look so
upset? What was so urgent?
Across the street, I spotted a girl of about
six or seven standing under a tall tree. I saw
a lunch box and a red jacket on the ground beside
her. She stared up into the tree, pointing
furiously and shaking her head.
"Hurry," Amy repeated, tugging me across the
street.
As we came nearer, I could hear the girl
crying.
"Which-what's the problem?" I asked
breathlessly.
Sobbing hard, the girl pointed up to a high
branch. "My brother--" she choked out between
sobs.
"He's up there," Amy told me.
"Excuse me?" I started to back away. But
Amy blocked my path.
"Her little brother climbed the tree, and now he
can't get down," Amy explained.
"Too bad," I murmured. I
gazed up into the leafy branches. I could see
legs and two sneakers dangling from a high limb.
"What are we going to do?" the girl wailed.
"Get me down!" a high voice called from
up in the tree.
Amy placed a comforting hand on the girl's
trembling shoulder. "Don't worry," she said.
"We have a superhero right here."
Huh? Me? I thought.
That sinking feeling in my stomach became a
tight, hard knot. I suddenly felt really
sick.
"No problem," Amy told the girl.
"Craig will climb up and bring your brother down
in seconds. Craig is so brave. He does
this kind of thing all the time."
"Oh, wow," I murmured. I gazed up at
the dangling sneakers. How did the kid climb so
high?
My stomach churned. I'm totally afraid
of heights.
I mean, I get nauseous on
escalators!
Amy gave me a shove toward the tree. "Go
ahead, Craig. Hurry! Bring the poor kid
down," she urged.
I could feel cold sweat rolling down my
forehead. I wiped my clammy hands on the legs
of my khakis.
"Stop crying," Amy told the girl softly.
"Craig will take care of everything. Right,
Craig? Tell her."
"Right," I choked out. My voice cracked
on the word.
I stared up at the dangling sneakers.
"Get me down! Get me down!" the little boy
wailed.
Amy and the girl were both watching me.
I wiped off my cold, sweaty hands again. And
stared up at the high tree limb.
I can't do this, I realized.
I've never climbed a tree in my life.
No way I can get up there. And if I do
get up there, no way I can bring the kid down.
I'll fall and break every bone in my skinny,
cowardly body.
What can I do?
What?




I glanced back and saw kids running from all
directions. A crowd gathered around the tree.
"Is the boy okay?"
"How did he get up there?"
"Is he stuck up there?"
Alarmed voices all around.
"It's okay. No problem," Amy assured
everyone loudly. "Craig is going to bring him
down."
I swallowed hard. Everyone turned to stare at
me.
Craig, you have no choice now, I told
myself. You have to go up and rescue that kid.
If you don't, you'll be Can-Can-Can-Craig
at Middle Valley Middle School for the rest
of your days.
I swallowed again. My legs were shaking so
hard, I thought my pants would fall down! I
hoped Amy couldn't see the terrified expression
on my face.
I wrapped my arms around the tree trunk.
Ow. The jagged bark scraped my hands.
I can't do this, I realized.
"Help me! I'm sooooo scared!" The little
boy called down. "Please--help me! The
branch--it's breaking! It's breaking!"
Behind me, kids gasped and screamed.
Over the sound of their screams, I heard a
loud CRAAAAAACK.
My whole body shuddered.
"Hurry!" Amy cried.
"The tree is breaking!" the little boy wailed.
Another CRAAAACK made everyone gasp and
cry out again.
I wiped my sweaty hands. "Hold on tight
up there!" I boomed, trying to sound brave.
"I'm coming up!"
"Hurry! Hurry!" Kids were shrieking.
Another CRAAAACK, like Velcro tearing.
I grabbed the trunk again. And lifted my
feet off the ground. Slowly, carefully, I
hoisted myself onto the lowest limb, only a few
feet off the ground.
Whew. So far, so good.
Why didn't the kid stop here? I wondered.
I swung myself up. My hands were so wet, they
nearly slid off the branch.
I grabbed for the next limb--and got a
mouthful of leaves.
Yuck.
"Help me!" The boy's cries were still high
above me. "Help! I can't hold on any
longer! It's breaking! It's breaking!"
"I'm ... coming!" I choked out.
I hoisted myself onto the next limb. Then
I forced my legs to stop shaking and stood up.
Hugging the trunk tight, I worked my way
around to the back of the tree. I found a limb a
few feet above my head. Grabbed it. Pulled
myself up.
Yes!
"Hurry! Ohh ... hurry!" The frightened
boy sounded a little closer.
"I'm ... almost ... there," I called up
to him.
"I can't hold on! I can't!"
Taking a deep breath, I pulled myself
higher. I could see his sneakers clearly now,
dangling, his legs kicking. Just a few branches
above me.
"I'm ... coming! Hold on!" I gasped.
I hoisted myself higher. Higher.
Until I reached the limb where he sat.
He turned to me, his round, little face red as a
tomato, glistening with tears. His blond hair
standing up in wild tufts. His T-shirt dirty
and ripped at one shoulder.
"Hold on," I uttered. "I'm here. Just
hold on."
Slowly ... slowly ... I worked my way out
on the limb. Farther. Almost there ... Almost ...
I reached out both hands to grab him.
"I've got you--to was I whispered.
My hands were inches from him--when he fell.



I watched his hands fly up as he slipped off
the branch.
"Nooooooo!" a scream of horror burst from
my throat.
I cut it short when I realized the kid
didn't fall.
He grabbed another limb. Grabbed it and
dove to the trunk.
Then as I gaped in shock, he slid easily
down the trunk to the ground.
He landed softly on his feet.
Peering down through the leaves, I saw his sister
wrap him in a hug.
Loud cries and cheers rang out.
Then, over the ringing cheers, I heard a
terrifying sound.
Another CRAAAAACK.
So close now.
Another CRAAAACK. Right under me!
It took less than a second.
I heard the CRAAAACK. Then I felt a
rush of air as I started to fall.
"Hey--to was I let out a cry. And shot up
both hands. Grabbed for the limb above me.
My hands wrapped around it.
No. I missed the limb.
My hands wrapped around--a bird's nest!
I glimpsed the nest.
I heard myself scream. A high, long
scream.
And then I hit the ground. Hard.
I think I landed on my stomach. I'm really
not sure.
I remember the THUD. The pain. And then,
blackness.
I guess I had my wind knocked out.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself on
my side, staring down at the grass. The ground
appeared to tilt, first one way, then the other.
I held on. Held on.
What was I holding? I struggled to focus.
I was still holding onto the empty bird's nest.
I blinked several times. The ground finally
stopped tilting.
I uttered a long sigh. Craig, you didn't
save the kid, I told myself. He saved himself.
And now Amy knows what a total klutz you
are. Amy and everyone else.
Still on the ground, I glanced up. I saw the
girl walking off with her brother. He was laughing.
She held his hand tightly.
I heard voices. Excited voices, all
talking at once.
And over them, I heard Amy. "Craig is
unbelievable!"
Did I hear right? What was she saying?
I pulled myself up with a groan and tried
to listen.
"Isn't Craig awesome?" Amy
exclaimed. "First he showed that little boy how
to slide down. Then, when the tree branch
broke off, he rescued the bird's nest!"
"Huh?" I muttered, still groggy. "What
did I do?"
"Craig didn't even think of his own
safety," Amy declared. "He only thought of
rescuing the nest!"
That's not quite the way it happened, I thought.
But before I could protest, kids were pulling me
to my feet, slapping me on the back,
congratulating me, clapping and cheering.
"Bravest thing I ever saw," a woman told
a gray-uniformed mail carrier.
He nodded. "Someone should tell the mayor. That
boy ought to get an award."
"He risked his life to save a bird's
nest. Wow," the woman said.
More cheers. More slaps on the back. More high
fives.
Amy gazed down at me with that glowing, admiring
look in her eyes. "Awesome," she murmured.
"Awesome."
And then a boy's voice rang out. "Hey,
wait!"
I turned and saw Travis and Brad pushing
through the surprised crowd.
"What is your problem? Craig isn't
brave!" Travis declared.
Brad sneered. "He's a total phony!"
Amy and the other kids gasped.
I'm caught, I realized. They found me out.
I'm Can-Can-Can-Craig again.
My life is ruined.



I took a step back. I suddenly wanted
to be back up in the tree, far, far away.
"What are you saying?" Amy demanded
angrily, pressing her hands to her waist.
"He wasn't being brave," Travis
repeated. "I think he fell out of that tree."
"For sure," Brad agreed. "I saw the
whole thing."
"But--but--" Amy sputtered.
"If he was being brave, why did he scream
like that?" Brad demanded.
"Yeah," Travis agreed. "He screamed
all the way down. He fell out of a tree--and you
act as if he's some kind of hero!"
All three of them turned to me. As
if they expected me to settle the argument for them.
Craig, are you brave or not?
N.
I just shrugged. "Whatever," I murmured.
"What I did up there, it was no big deal."
"Right--it was no big deal!" Travis
accused. "You fell out of a tree. That's all you
did!"
"You're just jealous." Amy sneered at
Travis and Brad. "Both of you. You two got
all the attention before Craig arrived."
Travis and Brad pushed her out of the way and
stepped up to me. They narrowed their eyes
menacingly.
A staring contest.
I never win staring contests. I always blink.
"You really think you're so brave?" Travis
challenged.
"Me?" I choked out. "No. No way."
I wasn't going to get into a fight over this.
For one thing, I'd lose. I can't fight.
Also, I knew the truth about myself. After all,
a person doesn't get called
Can-Can-Can-Craig his whole life without earning
it!
But Amy stepped back up to Travis and
Brad. "Craig is braver than the two of you
put together!" she declared, her dark eyes flashing
angrily. "And Craig can prove it!"
Huh? I can?
"Go ahead," Amy cried. "Think of a
challenge. Try to scare him!"
"No, wait--" I started.
But no one seemed to hear me.
"Craig will do anything you want him to!"
Amy declared.
I grabbed for her shoulder. I tried to stop
her. Too late.
"Go ahead," she insisted. "Think of any
challenge. Craig will prove that he isn't
afraid of anything!"
A thin smile spread over Travis's
lips. His freckles appeared to twinkle.
"Want to put some money on that?" he asked
slyly.
"No--please," I begged.
"We'll bet you," Amy answered without giving
me a chance to say no. "We'll bet any amount
of money that you can't frighten Craig--no matter
what you try!"
Travis and Brad exchanged glances. Both
of them were smiling now.
"Okay," Travis said. "It's a bet.
We'll be back."
They hurried away, laughing and talking
excitedly.
Amy turned to me. "Easy money--right?
Right?"



"There's nothing good on TV, and I'm bored
with these computer games," Amy groaned. She
tossed back her black curly hair. "What
do you want to do?"
I shrugged.
It was a gray Saturday afternoon. Raindrops
drummed against the window of Amy's den. Out in the
backyard, dead leaves rained down from the shivering
trees.
"Want to explore the attic?" Amy
suggested. "It's dark and creepy up there. My
parents have all these boxes filled with old clothes
and magazines and stuff."
"I don't think so," I sighed.
I'm secretly scared of attics. I
don't like attics or basements. I like to keep
to the ground floor, if possible.
"Oh, wait!" Amy jumped up from the
carpet. She opened a cabinet against the wall.
Thunder boomed outside. I shivered. I used
to be terrified of thunderstorms. Now I'm only
a little afraid.
Craig, Amy thinks you're really brave,
I reminded myself. Don't start whimpering the way
you usually do every time you hear a roar of thunder.
If people think you're brave, you are brave.
That's what I told myself all week.
But every time I ran into Travis or Brad at
school, I wanted to turn and run away.
They know the truth about me, I decided. And
they are hatching a plan, a horrible plan
to embarrass me and show everyone what a wimp I
am.
And why are they hatching a plan to terrify
me?
Because my new friend Amy challenged them to do it.
I liked Amy. She was a lot of fun
to talk to and hang out with.
I wondered if she'd still like me if she
found out that I'm not a superhero. That I'm
actually a skinny little guy who's afraid of
snakes and spiders and thunder and the dark--and a lot of
other things.
"Let's watch one of these." Amy spun
away from the cabinet with an armful of videos.
"My dad rented these last night. I forgot all
about them."
"What did he rent?" I asked.
She dropped down beside me on the green leather
couch and dumped the videos in my lap. "Check
them out. This is perfect," she said. "I'll
nuke some popcorn in the microwave, and we'll
watch a good, scary movie."
I gulped. "Scary?"
She pulled a box out of the stack. "This one,"
she said.
I gazed down at the box. It showed two
teenage boys and two teenage girls screaming
in horror. Killer Daycamp. That was the name
of the movie.
I remembered the commercials for it on TV.
I had to hide my eyes because the commercials were
too gory.
"Uh ... I think I've seen this one," I
lied.
"Well, don't give away the creepy
parts," Amy replied. She pulled the tape from
the box. "You probably love scary movies,
don't you? How many times have you seen Killer
Daycamp?"
"Uh ... only once," I said, swallowing
hard.
"I'll make the popcorn, then we'll start
it," she said. She jumped up from the couch.
"Maybe one of these other movies is
better," I said. I shuffled through the boxes:
Killer Daycamp II ... Killer
Daycamp III: The Revenge ...
"I can't believe my parents are into this
stuff," Amy said. "They love anything with
blood and gore."
"Uh ... me too." Another lie from
Craig the superhero.
The truth is, scary movies make me shake
like a baby. And sometimes I start to scream.
I took a deep breath. Be brave,
Craig, I ordered myself. This is the new
you--remember?
You're a hero.
You're fearless.
A few minutes later, the two of us sat on
the couch with bowls of popcorn in our laps, staring
at the TV screen.
I did okay for about ten minutes or so. But
then the crazed killer jumped out of the woods,
swinging his hatchet.
I grabbed the arm of the couch--and opened my mouth
in a shrill, bloodcurdling scream.
My heart leaping in my chest, I turned
to Amy and found her staring at me, studying me.
She knows, I realized sadly.
Now she knows the truth about me.



Amy stared hard at me. I waited for her
to call me a Fraidy Cat and tell me how
disappointed she felt.
But instead, her dark eyes flashed and a smile
spread over her face. "You're right, Craig,"
she said.
"Huh? Right?" I choked out.
She nodded. "These movies are more fun if you
scream along with them!"
My head spun. I don't believe this, I
thought. She thinks my scream was cool.
We turned back to the movie. The crazed
killer stood in the middle of the daycampers'
campfire, swinging his hatchet, slicing and dicing.
I let out another terrified scream.
Amy screamed too.
Not a very powerful scream. I guessed she
didn't have as much practice as me.
She tilted back her head and screamed again.
Much better this time.
We watched the movie and screamed our heads
off. It was kind of fun--except that my
screams were real.
About halfway through the movie, there were very few
daycampers left. The crazed hatchet guy
burst into the arts-and-crafts cabin. Campers
looked up in horror from the beaded key chains they
were making.
I opened my mouth to scream.
But a knock on the door cut me off after a
tiny squeak.
Amy paused the movie. We both made our
way to the front door. "Who's there?" Amy
called out.
"Open up!" a boy demanded. "We know you're
in there, Can-Can-Can-Craig!"



I recognized Travis's voice. He
called me Can-Can-Can-Craig.
How did he find out?
Amy flashed me a puzzled glance. Then she
pulled open the door.
Travis, Brad, and three other guys
stampeded in, shaking off rain. Amy made them
wipe their shoes on the floor mat.
Brad pushed back his spiky black hair and
grinned at me, a truly evil grin.
I still had the popcorn bowl in my hand.
Travis grabbed a handful and stuffed it into his
mouth.
"Hi, Can-Can-Can-Craig," David, a
chubby, red-haired boy from my class, said.
Frankie and Gus, the other two boys,
giggled.
My stomach churned. I suddenly felt cold
all over.
"Which-why are you calling me that?" I demanded
angrily. (as if I didn't know.)
"My cousin Pam goes to your old school,"
Travis replied. Popcorn kernels dribbled
out of his mouth, onto his chin. He grabbed another
handful from my bowl.
I shoved the bowl into his hands. "So? What
about her?" I asked, trying to sound tough.
Travis chewed for a while. "She told me
about you," he said finally. "She told me all
about you, Can-Can-Can-Craig. She said you were always
scared of your own shadow."
I stared at him. I didn't know what to say.
"She told me you screamed your head off and
ran away from a chipmunk last year," Travis
said, snickering.
Yes. That was true. But it was a very big
chipmunk.
"That's a lie," I said.
"It's all a big lie!" Amy chimed in.
She glared at Travis and his friends. "None of it
is true. You're making it all up because you're
jealous of Craig."
Brad turned to me. "Is it true?" he
demanded. "Is it true that the kids at your old
school called you Can-Can-Can-Craig?"
Amy stared at me. The five guys stared at
me.
I took a deep breath. "Of course it
isn't true," I told them. I shook my
head. "Why would someone make up such a dumb
story? I don't get it."
Brad's evil grin grew wider. His dark
eyes gleamed. "Well ... we'll see," he
said softly.
"We'll see who is telling the truth,"
Travis added. He set the empty popcorn
bowl on a table. "We brought a little test for you,
Craig."
Uh-oh.
Lightning flashed in the window. I gritted my
teeth and waited for the boom of thunder that followed.
"Test?" I asked. I didn't realize I
was backing up, backing away from them. I didn't
realize it until I backed into the living room
couch and nearly fell over.
They followed me into the living room. Amy
eyed them suspiciously. "What kind of test?"
she demanded.
"David has it," Travis announced. He
turned to his friend.
"I kept it dry, under my jacket,"
David said. He reached under his jacket--and
pulled out a tall glass jar.
"Which-what is it?" I stammered.
David handed the jar to Travis. Travis
raised it in front of my face.
And I let out a horrified gasp.



Spiders.
Ugly, black hairy-legged spiders.
Dozens of them. Crawling all over each other.
Travis pushed the jar against my nose. The
spiders blurred into a wriggling pile of black
furry bodies and legs.
Amy grabbed the jar away and inspected it.
"Where did you find these?" she snapped at
Travis. "In your bed?"
The boys all laughed.
I couldn't laugh. I felt like choking. Or
fainting. I'm scared of bugs--and spiders are
my worst nightmare.
"You told us to bring Craig a challenge,"
Brad said to Amy. "So, here it is."
I couldn't take my eyes off the strange,
hairy black spiders scrabbling over each
other, an endless wrestling match.
Do they bite? I wondered. Do they pinch?
Are they poisonous?
"What do I have to do?" I choked out, trying not
to sound frightened. But my voice came out tiny and
weak.
"It's simple," Travis replied. "Just
keep your hand in the jar for five minutes."
Huh?
"No problem!" Amy sneered. "Craig will
keep his hand in there all day! He's not afraid
of spiders!"
Amy, please--shut up! I thought.
I stared at the spiders. Then I gazed up
at Travis. "Am I allowed to wear
gloves?" I asked.
They all burst out laughing. Amy too.
They thought I was joking.
I can't do this, I realized. I'll die.
"How much are we betting?" Amy demanded.
"How about a million dollars?" David
suggested.
Everyone laughed again.
"I don't have a million dollars," Amy
replied. "Let's make a real bet, guys.
I can't wait to take your money."
"How about thirty dollars?" Brad suggested.
I gazed into the jar. The black spiders
climbed and wrestled. were they biting each other?
Amy and I are going to lose thirty dollars,
I thought miserably.
No way we can win. There's no way I can do
this.
I tapped her shoulder. I tried to stop her.
But she quickly agreed to the bet. "Okay.
Thirty dollars. But this is too easy. Why
didn't you think of something hard?"
Amy--please shut up! I thought again. I
was gritting my teeth so hard, my jaw ached.
How can I get out of this? I wondered. Should
I just run out the front door and never come back?
Should I tell them the truth? That I really am
Can-Can-Can-Craig?
No. No way, I decided.
I can't let Amy down. I can't let myself
down.
If I don't try this, I'll be
Can-Can-Can-Craig for the rest of my
life.
Travis slid open the metal top of the jar.
He turned to his friends. "Who has a watch?"
"I do," Brad replied, holding his wrist
close to his face. "I'll keep time."
Travis raised the jar to me. "Five
minutes," he said, his expression turning
solemn.
I gazed into the jar. "Is that Eastern Standard
Time?" I joked.
Travis nodded. "Five minutes in the jar."
The boys clustered tight around me, eager to have a
good view.
Amy pushed her way into the middle. She
flashed me a thumbs-up.
Brad had his eyes on his watch. "Ready.
Set. Go!"
I took a deep breath. My hand was
trembling so hard I wasn't sure I could
slide it into the jar.
The glass felt cool against the back of my
hand. Shutting my eyes, I plunged my hand
down ... down into the jar.
I was okay for a few seconds.
But then I felt a prickling sensation on the
back of my hand. I opened my eyes and saw
spiders crawling over my skin.
A moan escaped my throat. I tried
to stop it, but I couldn't. I forced a smile to my
face to cover it up.
I could feel sweat dripping down my forehead.
Could the others see it?
They all had their eyes on my hand in the jar.
Spiders prickled my palm. I felt a
few of them drag their hairy, dry bodies over
my wrist.
"Thirty seconds," Brad announced.
It felt like thirty years!
At least a dozen spiders clung to my hand
now. My arm began to itch. My chest itched.
My whole body prickled and itched.
I kept the smile frozen on my face. But
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move.
"One minute," Brad called out.
"Four minutes to go," Travis said, leaning his
head closer, grinning as he stared into the jar.
I can't do it, I realized.
Enough.
I can't take anymore.
I lose. I lose the bet. I
lose everything.
Spiders danced over the back of my palm.
Sharp legs pinched my wrist. Two of them were
scuttling up my arm!
That's all. Good-bye, I decided.
I jerked my hand up. Raised it quickly
to pull it from the jar.
But I couldn't remove it.
My hand was stuck--stuck inside the jar.



I wriggled my hand. I made a tight fist.
I tried to squeeze it tighter, smaller, so
it would slide out of the jar.
But it wouldn't budge.
My hand was stuck.
"Two minutes," Brad announced.
"What are you doing?" Travis demanded. "Why
are you moving your hand like that?"
"Are they biting you?" Amy asked.
I nodded. "You-yes. They're ... biting,"
I choked out in a hoarse whisper.
"Do you see?" Amy declared to the others. "See
how brave Craig is? The spiders are biting
him like crazy--and he still keeps his hand in the jar!"
Not if I could help it, I thought
bitterly.
I squirmed and struggled to pull my hand out.
But it was really stuck.
"Ow!" I let out a cry as a spider bit
my thumb.
I've GOT to get my hand out! Oh,
please--I'll do anything! Please let me
slide my hand out!
"They're really biting him," Amy declared.
"Is he brave or what?"
Please shut up! I thought, gritting my
teeth. Please--just shut up!
My whole body itched and throbbed. I
gritted my teeth. I couldn't breathe.
Spiders inched up and down both sides of my
hand and around my wrist.
Another sharp pain, another bite, this time on
the back of my wrist.
If only I could pull my hand out, I thought.
I'm going to faint. I'm dizzy. The room
is spinning.
This is it. I can't take the itching. The
bites ... the bites ...
I'm going to pass out.
"Five minutes are up!" Brad called out.
Travis let out a disappointed groan.
"Guess you win," he muttered, shaking his head.
Brad and the three other guys muttered to each
other, making disappointed sounds.
Amy shot both hands up over her head and
opened her mouth in a cheer of victory. "We
win!" she cried. "We win! We win thirty
bucks!"
She turned to me. "Okay, Craig. Time
is up. You can take your hand out."
I swallowed. My mouth felt as dry as
dust. My heart thudded so hard, I couldn't
speak.
What happens when they find out my hand is
stuck in the jar? I wondered.
Will that cancel the bet? Will I have to do it all
over again?
"Uh ... that's okay," I said weakly.
"I'll keep it in a while longer."
"Huh?" Travis gasped.
They all stared at me, then down at the
spiders swarming over my hand.
"Is he crazy?" David muttered.
"You see?" Amy cried, bumping Travis
hard, sending him stumbling back. "You see? You
think Craig is a wimp? Five minutes
isn't enough time for him. He wants to keep it in for
another five! That's how brave he is!"
"Amy, please--" I croaked.
Why can't she keep her big mouth shut?
"Pay up, guys," Amy demanded, holding out
her hand. "Come on. Let's see it. Thirty
bucks."
Her expression changed. "Oh. Wait.
Forget the thirty," she said. "How about double or
nothing?"
"Amy, please--" I begged. But my
voice came out so weak no one heard me.
"Yeah. Double or nothing," Travis agreed
quickly.
Spiders stampeded over the back of my hand.
I felt another bite. My whole hand throbbed
with pain.
I'm going to die! I realized. I'm going
to die right now in this room!
"Think of something harder next time," Amy
told them. "Think of something scary." She
laughed. "Craig and I don't like taking
your money so easily!"
"Please--" I begged.
"Don't worry. We won't go easy on
him next time," Travis promised.
"Don't worry. Next time, we'll prove
that he's Can-Can-Can-Craig," Brad agreed.
Amy opened the front door, and the five guys
tromped out into the rain.
Amy closed the door and turned back to me
with a pleased grin. "Easy money, huh?"
"Help me ..." I gasped. I waved the
jar at her. "Help me ... get this off."
She squinted down at the jar. "It's stuck?"
I nodded.
She grabbed the sides and tugged with both hands.
The jar made a loud POP as it finally came
off.
"Oh, wow," I moaned.
"Your hand--it's kind of red," Amy said. She
made a disgusted face. "Yuck. It's kind of
swollen too. No wonder it got stuck."
I took several deep breaths. The itching and
throbbing just wouldn't quit.
"That must really hurt," Amy said fretfully.
"Hey--no big deal," I replied.
I'll never be able to use it again, I told
myself. I'll never stop itching. I'll have
nightmares about hairy black spiders crawling
all over me for the rest of my life.
I flicked several spiders off my hand,
back into the jar.
"You really are brave," Amy murmured.
"That hand is totally gross."
Thanks a bunch.
"I've had worse," I lied. "I guess
I'd better get home. Put some cream on it
or something."
"I guess," she replied. "It looks
really sick."
I said good-bye and hurried out into the rain. It
was pouring, but I didn't care. The cold
raindrops felt soothing on my throbbing, itching
hand.
As soon as I got home, I ran into the
bathroom. I filled the sink with cold water and
soaked my hand until it stopped burning. Then
I rubbed every cream I could find in the medicine
chest on it.
Finally, it felt a little better, a little more
normal.
But I didn't.
I gazed at the frightened expression on my
reflection in the mirror and thought about Travis and
Brad and their grinning friends.
What will they have in store for me next? I
wondered.
How long can I pretend to be brave?



"I just keep thinking about how you rescued that
baby," Amy said. "That was so awesome!"
"Yeah. Whatever," I replied.
It was a week later, a clear, cold
Saturday night. Amy's parents were out for the
night. So we were hanging out at her house again.
"You probably want to watch more of those scary
videos," Amy said. She wore an oversized
black sweater over a blue sweater and kept
tugging the sleeves down. "But we can't. My
dad took them back to the rental store."
"Too bad," I replied. Secretly, I
wanted to jump up and down for joy. I couldn't
take another trip to Killer Daycamp. The
sequels were supposed to be even more gross than
the first one!
A tap on the window nearly made me jump
out of my skin.
Travis and his friends?
No. A pebble or a leaf or something, blown
against the glass.
Travis had been hinting all week that he had
something really terrifying planned for me. "Double
or nothing," he said, grinning. "And you are going
to end up with nothing."
I begged him to give me a hint.
He only laughed and rubbed his hands together like an
evil cartoon villain.
"Do you like Ping-Pong?" Amy asked.
I nodded. "Yeah. I won the Ping-Pong
championship at camp last summer."
Her dark eyes flashed. "Really?"
No. Not really. Actually, my team won the
championship. I was the worst player on the
team.
"Too bad you don't have a table," I said.
"I'd give you a few lessons."
She giggled. "We do have a table." She
grabbed my hand. "Come on. It's in the basement.
Maybe I'll give you a few
lessons. I have a really cool spin serve."
A spin serve? What's that? Whenever I
served, the ball usually dove right for the net.
I stopped at the top of the basement stairs and
Amy clicked on the ceiling light. The stairs
were dark and steep.
"Dad built a whole rec room down there,"
Amy said. "The only problem is, the dryer
steams up the whole basement."
I grabbed the railing and started down the steps.
The wooden stairs creaked under my shoes.
I was halfway down when the light flickered
out.
I stopped. And peered down into total
blackness.
Amy bumped me from behind. I grabbed the railing
to keep from falling the rest of the way.
"That light--it's always going out," Amy said.
"I think it's got a short or something."
You probably guessed that I'm afraid of the
dark.
I'm not afraid of the dark in places that I
know really well. I mean, I don't need a
night-light in my bedroom at night.
But I'd never been in Amy's basement. And
standing here on these creaky stairs, unable to see my
own sneakers, I started to shake.
"Well? Go on down," Amy ordered. "Why
did you stop?"
I cleared my throat. My hand gripped the
rail tightly. "Well ... it's so dark
...," I murmured.
Amy laughed. "You're not afraid of the dark--
are you, Craig?"
I forced a laugh. "Of course not." My
voice cracked.
"Well--keep going," Amy insisted. She
gave my shoulder a gentle push that almost sent me
sprawling.
"I'm ... will-will-well ...," I stammered.
"I'm not afraid of the dark. But--I'm afraid
of basements."
Amy uttered a startled cry. "Huh?
Basements? You mean--there really is something you're
afraid of?"
My throat felt tight, blocked. As if
I had swallowed a whole walnut. I cleared
my throat again. "Yeah. Basements," I choked
out.
"Why?" Amy demanded.
"When I was little ...," I started. Think
fast, Craig. Make up something good, something
she'll believe.
"When I was little, my mom brought me down to the
basement. She was ironing or cleaning up or
something. I don't remember what she was doing.
But I remember everything else so clearly," I
said.
Think fast, Craig. What happened?
What scared you?
"What happened?" Amy asked.
Good question.
"Uh ... the phone rang upstairs," I
continued. "Mom ran up to answer it. She forgot
all about me. She left me down there."
"How old were you?" Amy asked.
"Uh ... I don't know. I was too young
to count," I replied. "But I couldn't walk
yet, I remember. I could only sit up. And
... and ..."
And what? Think of something, Craig.
"This is hard for you to talk about," Amy said
softly.
"Uh ... yeah," I replied. "Because these
mice came out of their holes. I don't know.
Maybe they were mice. Maybe they were rats. But
I was all alone down there. And they came out of
their holes and ..."
"How awful!" Amy declared. "You must have been
terrified. What did they do?"
What did they do? What did they do? Did
they pluck out my eyes? No. Did they bite
my little legs? No.
"They just stared at me," I said. "I'll never
forget their evil stares, their glowing red eyes."
I sighed. "It seemed like hours. The mice
stood there in a line, staring, staring, staring. I've
been afraid of basements ever since."
Now Amy knows the truth about me, I thought,
peering down into the dark basement. Now she knows
I'm really a quivering coward.
"That's the bravest thing I ever heard!" Amy
declared.
"Excuse me?" I cried.
"Telling me that story," Amy replied.
"Telling that awful story was so brave! It must have
been so hard for you."
"Well ... you know--"
A loud buzz interrupted me. The
doorbell. The front doorbell.
Saved by the bell, I thought.
Wrong.
"I know who that is," Amy said. She turned
and ran back up the stairs.
I eagerly followed her. "Who is it?"
"Travis and Brad and the others," Amy
replied, striding to the front door.
"Huh?"
Amy turned back to me. "I forgot to tell
you. They said they were coming over tonight to challenge you
again."
"Oh, wow," I murmured, feeling a chill
tighten the back of my neck. Then I quickly
added, "Why don't they just give up? No way
they can scare me."
"I know," Amy agreed. "This is easy
money!"
"Uh ... did they tell you what the challenge
is?" I asked, trying to sound as if I didn't
really care.
She nodded. "They said they're bringing a really
big, poisonous snake. And they want you
to kiss it on the mouth. No problem--right?"
My mouth dropped open.
Kiss a snake? Kiss a poisonous
snake?
I swallowed hard and started to admit to Amy that
there was no way I would ever touch a snake,
let alone kiss one.
But before I could get a word out, I heard
desperate cries and moans from outside.
And then Brad's frightened voice from the other
side of the door: "Help us! Please--help!"



Amy and I exchanged troubled glances. Then
she grabbed the door and yanked it open.
Brad burst into the room, his eyes wide
with horror. "Help us!" he cried.
"Hurry!"
I saw David with Gus and Frankie behind
him. And then I saw Travis.
Travis had both hands pressed over his
eyes, as if blindfolding himself. Bright-red blood
poured down his face.
"Are your parents home? We've got to get
help!" David wailed.
"No! What happened?" Amy gasped.
"We--we had a big snake,"
Brad stammered, breathing hard. "It got away.
Travis--he chased after it. He was running and
... and he tripped and fell."
"Travis poked his eye out!" David cried.
"Ohhhhh." Travis uttered a low groan.
Slowly, he lowered his right hand. Opened it.
And I gaped at the big, watery eyeball in
his blood-smeared palm.
"Help me," Travis groaned. "Ohhhh,
it hurts. It hurts so much!"
"Call a doctor!" David cried.
"Call an ambulance!"
"Help ... ohhh ... help ...,"
Travis moaned.
I felt my stomach lurch. I clapped
a hand over my mouth to keep my dinner from coming
up.
Amy let out a sick cry.
I stared at the wet, veiny eyeball. I
couldn't stop staring at it.
"It hurts ...," Travis moaned again.
"Please ... do something."
I stared at the eyeball for another second.
And then I rushed forward. Plucked the
eyeball from Travis's hand.
And popped it into my mouth.
Amy shrieked in horror.
Brad let out a startled cry. David and the
others gasped.
I turned to Travis and rolled the eyeball
slowly from side to side in my mouth.
Travis started to laugh. He lowered his other
hand from over his eyes.
I poked the eyeball through my lips.
Everyone was laughing now.
I spit the eyeball into my hand and tossed it
to Travis. "Very real-looking," I said. "I
saw these plastic eyes in the same card store you
did. A Halloween display--right?"
"Right." Brad sighed.
Travis turned to Amy. "Got any paper
towels? I have to wipe this fake blood off.
It's dripping all over."
Amy ran to the kitchen and returned with a wad of
paper towels. "Craig wasn't scared for a
second," she told Travis. "Was that your
second challenge? You'll have to do a lot better
than that."
She stuck out her hand. "You owe us sixty
bucks, guys. Pay up."
Travis tossed the plastic eyeball to her.
It hit her on the shoulder and bounced to the floor.
"That wasn't our dare," Brad insisted. "It
was just a joke. We just wanted to see
Can-Can-Can-Craig lose his dinner."
"Well, he didn't--did he!" Amy
sneered.
I shuddered. If I hadn't seen those
eyeballs in the store window yesterday, my dinner
would have been all over Amy's living room
carpet.
How lucky could I get?
David picked up the eyeball and tossed it
to Gus, who tossed it to Frankie. They started
a game of eyeball catch across the living room.
Travis mopped the red liquid off his face.
He balled up the paper towels and tossed them
at me. "Think fast!"
David heaved the eyeball. It bounced off a
lamp. The lamp shook but didn't fall.
"Cut it out, guys!" Amy ordered. "My
parents will be home any minute." She turned
to Travis. "You never even had a
snake--did you!"
He shook his head. "No. Snakes aren't
scary enough. Not for the superhero here." He patted
my shoulder. "Can-Can-Captain
Can-Can-Can-Craig," he said.
"You guys are total losers," Amy told
them, shaking her head. "You're not clever enough to scare
Craig. No way you can win the bet."
"Oh, yeah?" Brad shot back. "You might
as well pay us the sixty dollars now, Amy."
"That's right," Travis agreed. "Craig will
never do what we have planned for him next."
"Huh? What's that?" I asked weakly.
A sly grin spread over Travis's
freckled face. "You know my dad owns a
funeral parlor," he said quietly.
"So?" Amy snapped.
Travis's grin grew wider. "So ... use
your imagination."



At lunch hour on Monday afternoon, Amy and
I walked out of class. We turned the corner
--and heard loud, angry voices. Then the crash
of a locker door.
I stopped when I saw Brad across the hall.
"Grant--get your paws off me!" he
shrieked.
His older brother had Brad by the front of the
shirt. Grant lifted Brad off the floor and
slammed his back into the tile wall.
"Get out of my face!" Brad shrieked
furiously.
Grant laughed. "Make me!"
He lowered his shoulder and bumped Brad hard in
the chest, sending him sprawling against the wall again.
Then he jerked Brad away from the wall, yanked
open the locker, and started to stuff Brad inside.
"He can't do that to Brad," Amy said
angrily. She gave me a push. "Go teach
Grant a lesson."
"Excuse me?" I took a step back.
"Go stand up to Grant," Amy insisted.
"You're the only one who can do it. Brad is
terrified of his brother. But you're not afraid of
anything. Go ahead!"
I gulped. "But ... but ... it wouldn't be
right."
Amy narrowed her dark eyes at me.
"Brad has to fight his own battles," I
said. "Besides, it's a family thing."
"Oh, go ahead," Amy replied. She gave
me another shove, into the center of the hall. "You
know you're not afraid of Grant. Give Brad
a break. Look what Grant is doing to him!"
Once again, Grant had shoved his brother into the
locker. He held him inside with a fist on his
chest. "Say please," Grant ordered.
"Okay. Please," Brad whimpered.
"Say pretty please," Grant insisted.
"Pretty please," Brad repeated. "Ow!
You're hurting me!"
Laughing, very pleased with himself, Grant shoved his
fist harder into Brad's stomach. Then he spun
from the locker and strode away, heading toward Amy
and me.
"Go ahead--get him!" Amy urged. She
shoved me again.
"No. Really--" I tried to back away.
But I stumbled into Grant.
"Hey!" He cried out as he tripped over
my shoe.
His hands shot out as he fell forward, fell on
his face.
"Whoa!" I stumbled over his outstretched arm--
fell--and landed on his back.
"Yaaay! Way to go! Way to go, Craig!"
Amy cheered.
I glanced up to see a crowd of kids laughing
and cheering.
"Get off me!" Grant growled. His face
was bright red. I think he was totally embarrassed.
He tossed me off and climbed to his feet.
"Way to go, Craig!" Amy cheered.
Kids clapped and hooted.
"What's up?" I heard a girl ask.
"Craig punched out Grant!" a boy
replied.
"Craig wasted Brad's big brother."
"He wrecked him!"
Grant snarled at me again and stomped off
furiously, swinging his fists at his sides.
I sat stunned on the floor. Two hands
reached down to help pull me up. Brad's
hands.
He studied me. "You okay?"
I nodded. "Yeah. I guess."
"I don't believe you did that!" Brad
exclaimed. "I never saw anyone stand
up to Grant. Wow. You really are brave!"
"No, listen--" I started.
"That was awesome!" Brad declared. "Awesome!"
He slapped me a high five.
"But it was an accident," I told him. "I
didn't mean to trip him. Amy pushed me and--"
"You don't have to be modest," Brad said.
"I saw the whole thing, Craig. You handled him.
You handled him!"
Amy slapped me on the back, so hard I
nearly choked. "You handled him! Wow. You
mangled him! That's the bravest thing I ever

saw!"

So I felt pretty good about myself for the rest
of the afternoon.
I mean, I knew the whole thing had been an
accident. A lucky accident.
But everyone else in school believed that I
took down Brad's big bully of a brother.
Everyone believed I was the bravest thing on two
legs.
Maybe I am kind of brave, I told
myself.
I was sitting in class, not hearing a word
anyone said. Thinking about all that had happened to me
since I moved to Middle Valley.
Maybe it isn't what a person thinks or
feels that makes him brave, I thought. Maybe
it's what he does.
If I do brave things--even if I don't
feel brave--maybe that makes me brave.
See? I almost had myself convinced that I
wasn't Can-Can-Can-Craig any longer. I
almost had myself convinced that I was a new, brave
me.
I was almost convinced--until I walked out of
class after the last bell and heard Travis and
Brad talking in the doorway to a supply
closet.
Hearing them say my name, I pressed against the
wall so they couldn't see me. And I listened.
"You're not going ahead with it--are you,
Travis?" Brad asked.
"Of course I am," Travis snickered.
"We'll make Can-Can-Can-Craig shake like a
leaf."
"But that's going too far!" Brad protested.
"That's too horrible. You're not really going
to try it--are you?"
Travis's reply sent a shiver down my
back. He grunted. "Watch me."



A few nights later, Amy and I were hunched
over my dining room table doing homework. Amy was
working on math problems, moving her lips as she
added and subtracted.
I was writing an essay about Aaron Burr.
Well, actually, I was copying some of it from an
encyclopedia.
When the doorbell buzzed, I broke the
point of my pencil.
I knew who it was. I could tell by the
buzz. It was Travis and Brad, coming to test
me, to terrify me.
Take it easy, Craig, I told myself.
You're shaking already, and you don't even know what
they planned for you.
Pretend you're brave, I instructed myself.
If you pretend you're brave, you'll .be
brave.
Big words. Who was I kidding?
Amy followed me to the front door. I
pulled it open. Brad stepped in, wearing a
blue down jacket and a wool ski hat. "It's
pretty cold out there," he explained.
He tugged off the hat and glanced around
nervously. "I'm sorry about this, Craig," he
murmured, avoiding my eyes. "Really."
"Oh, sure." Amy rolled her eyes.
"You're just trying to frighten him, Brad. But it
isn't going to work."
"No. I mean it," Brad insisted. "I
think Travis went too far this time. I tried
to argue with him, but he wouldn't listen. He really
wants to win this bet."
Those words sent chills down my back. I could
feel my knees start to buckle. I grabbed the
back of the couch for support.
Maybe I should concede, I thought. Give up
now. Before things get out of control.
"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry in
advance," Brad said solemnly, eyes on the
floor.
I gulped.
"The only ones who will be sorry are you and
Travis and your buddies," Amy insisted. "Because
after tonight is over, you'll owe us sixty
bucks."
"We'll see," Brad murmured. He
motioned to the door. "Get your coats and follow
me."

We stepped out into a cold, windy October
night. Dead leaves swirled in wild circles
over the lawns. The nearly bare trees creaked
and groaned.
I felt a few cold drops of rain on my
forehead. So I zipped my black down parka and
pulled the hood up over my head.
We turned the corner, waited for a nearly
empty city bus to rumble past, then made our
way toward town.
I knew where we were going. Travis had already
hinted about it. I remembered the gleeful smirk
on his freckled face when he mentioned it.
Sure enough, we crept up behind the low hedge
at the back of the parking lot. A yellow
spotlight lit up the wooden sign in front
of the long, dark-shingled building. The sign read:
SHADY REST.
The funeral parlor that Travis's dad owned.
I shivered.
were there dead bodies in there? Actual
corpses?
Of course there are, Craig. I answered my
own dumb question. It's a funeral parlor--right?
I shoved my hands deep into my coat
pockets. I hoped Amy couldn't see me
shivering.
"Hey--here's the superhero!" David
greeted me with a slap on the back. Gus and
Frankie nodded solemnly.
"Where's Travis?" Amy demanded.
A gust of wind made the long hedge wriggle,
like a snake. The wind blew the hood back
onto my shoulders. I felt another cold
raindrop on my forehead.
"Travis got caught," Brad replied.
"Huh? Caught?" I cried.
Brad nodded. "His parents caught him
sneaking out."
"He's going to miss all the fun," David
smirked.
Some fun, I thought bitterly.
"But, don't worry, Craig," David
continued. "We'll give Travis a full
report about how you ran away screaming."
"You're the ones who will scream," Amy
insisted, "when you have to pay us the bet money!"
I turned and stared at the funeral parlor. It
was a plain, one-story, shingled building. But it
suddenly looked to me like one of those dark, evil
castles in a horror movie.
I pictured rows of black coffins inside.
And dead bodies, stretched out on metal tables.
And green corpses staggering around, groaning.
Blank lifeless eyes rolling around in their
decaying heads. Coffin lids pushing up ...
bony hands poking out.
Craig--stop! I ordered myself. Stop
imagining!
I swallowed hard and turned to Brad. "What
do I have to do?" I asked.



Brad and the three other boys stared at me.
David started to giggle. Gus and Frankie
laughed too. Cruel, cold laughter.
Brad's expression remained solemn. "This
wasn't my idea," he murmured.
"Don't pay any attention to them," Amy
warned me. "They think they can scare you."
They are scaring me, I thought. They're scaring
me, and I don't even know why yet.
Amy turned to Brad. "Why don't you just
give up now? Craig can't be scared by anything."
"We'll see," Brad replied. He
pointed to the funeral parlor. "See that back
window, Craig?"
I peered over the hedge at the building.
Totally dark. All the windows and doors dark.
The only light was the spotlight beaming down on
the SHADY REST sign at the front of the
empty parking lot.
"See the window I'm pointing to?" Brad
repeated.
I nodded.
"That's the window you'll go in," he said.
"Huh? Go in?" I gasped. "Go in?"
Brad nodded. The other boys laughed.
"Isn't that illegal?" I asked, trying
to keep my voice low and steady, trying
desperately to sound calm. "Does Travis's
dad know about this?"
"Of course not," Brad replied.
David shook his head. "If
Travis's dad knew, he'd bury us all!"
Gus and Frankie thought that was a riot. They
burst out laughing and slapped David high
fives.
"Ssshhh, quiet, guys," Brad warned.
"We don't want to get caught before Craig
goes inside."
"Just tell him what he has to do," Amy said
impatiently. "He'll do it. You'll pay us the
money. And then we can get out of here. It's
cold!"
"It's real simple," Brad said, putting a
hand on the shoulder of my coat. He pointed again
to the narrow window at the back of the building.
"Craig, you slide the window up," Brad
instructed. "You climb inside. You open up the
first coffin you find. And you lie down inside it."
"But--but--" I gasped.
"That's all?" Amy cried. "That's all
he has to do? This is too easy! You guys are
giving your money away!"
"Amy, please--" I started to beg.
"Have-how--" I stammered. "How?"
"Can't you think of anything challenging?" Amy
cried to Brad. "Can't you think of something a little
bit scary?"
"How will you know if I do it?" I finally choked
out.
"Easy," Brad replied. "We'll be
watching. We'll be watching your every move from that
back window."
"But what if we get caught?" I demanded.
"We won't," Brad replied. "There's no
one around, Craig. Only dead people."
"You're not afraid of dead people--are you,
Craig?" David asked, grinning.
Yes, I answered to myself. Yes, of
course I am. I've never seen a dead
person before.
I've never even seen a coffin before. Let
alone climbed into one.
A blast of wind made the hedge shiver.
Cold raindrops splashed my forehead.
Shivering, I pulled the hood back over my
hair.
"Go do it, Craig," Amy urged. "Let's
get it over with. These guys are a waste of time."
I gazed across the dark parking lot. Could I do
it? Could I sneak into the funeral parlor and lie
down in a coffin?
As I huddled behind the hedge, the building
seemed a mile away.
My legs are shaking too hard, I told
myself. I can't even walk that far.
Just tell them the truth, Craig, I thought.
Tell them you're the biggest chicken that ever
clucked. Tell them it's all a big
mistake. You're not brave. You've never been
brave.
Amy will be upset. But she'll get over it
... in a year or two.
But then there's the sixty-dollar bet. I can't
pay it. Where will I get that kind of money?
You have no choice, Craig. You have to do it.
"Okay. Here goes," I said. I pulled the
hood down over my forehead. Leaning into the wind,
I pushed through a split in the hedge and stepped
into the parking lot.
I was halfway across the lot when a blinding,
bright light swept over me.
Caught!



I froze as the light rolled over me.
Shielding my eyes, I turned to the street.
And saw a dark van pulling into the driveway to the
funeral parlor.
My heart pounding, I staggered back.
Turned. And dove for the safety of the hedge.
"Who's that?" I asked Brad breathlessly.
He shrugged.
We all ducked low behind the shivering hedge. And
watched as two white-uniformed men climbed out of the
van.
They pulled open the back door. Then,
struggling and groaning, they lifted out a long
black plastic bag.
A body bag?
Was there a body inside the bag?
We watched in silence as they vanished around the
other side of the building, carrying their heavy
load.
"A late delivery," Amy whispered.
I saw Brad shiver.
Gus and Frankie got very quiet.
I realized I'd been holding my
breath the whole time. My lungs ached. They
felt about to burst. I let the air out in a long
whoosh.
"Did you see? I was almost caught," I
murmured. "That was a close call."
"Do you want to quit?" David demanded.
"Want to give up?"
"Too scared to go in, Can-Can-Can-Craig?"
Gus chimed in.
"Of course he isn't scared!" Amy
answered for me. "He's going in--as soon as
they leave."
I shoved my hands deeper into my parka
pockets. I tried to hide my face under the
hood. I didn't want anyone to see how
terrified I was.
The lights flashed on in the side windows of the
funeral parlor. An eerie green light filled
the curtained windows.
A minute or so later, the light went out. The
two men returned to the van. They slammed the
back door shut. Climbed into the front. And
drove away.
I turned and saw everyone staring at me.
"I'm going," I murmured.
Once again, I squeezed through the opening in the
hedge. And started to cross the parking lot.
The others followed close behind. Our shoes
scraped the damp pavement.
Behind the building, bare trees swayed and
shook, as if waving us away.
A narrow strip of grass led to the back of the
funeral parlor. My shoes sank into the wet
ground, making a soft SQUISH with every step.
The blood pulsed at my temples as I
reached the back window. I tried to peer through the
glass, but curtains blocked the view. Besides,
it was too dark inside to see anything.
"Go ahead. Open the window," Brad urged.
His voice came out shrill and breathless. He
sounded frightened too.
Raindrops had spattered the windowpane. I
reached both hands to the wooden frame. And pushed.
The window slid up easily. A gust of wind
made the curtains billow, like two filmy
ghosts.
I leaned over the window ledge and peered
inside.
Where was the dead body those guys brought in?
I couldn't see a thing.
A sharp, sour smell made me hold my
breath. "What stinks?" I blurted out.
"Corpses," David replied, his back
pressed against the shingled wall. "Decaying,
rotting corpses."
"Don't listen to him. It's formaldehyde,"
Amy said. "You know. The stuff they use
to embalm the corpses."
"Yuck." I took a deep breath through my
mouth. The sour smell made my stomach churn.
"Do you want to quit?" Brad asked. I
felt his hand on the shoulder of my parka. "Are you
afraid? Want to give up? Just say the word."
"No way!" Amy cried. "Craig
doesn't know the word afraid. He's going
in." She turned to me. "Want a boost?"
"No," I replied quickly. I raised both
hands to the window ledge. "I'll just climb in."
I leaned into the open window. The silky
curtains billowed against my face. I started
to hoist myself up.
"Remember--the first coffin you see," Brad
reminded. "Open it up and climb in."
"We'll be watching," David added.
"Wish I brought my camera," Gus chimed
in. "I've never taken a picture of a guy
screaming his head off."
"Shut up, Gus," Amy snapped. She said
something else, but I didn't hear her.
I dropped inside the funeral parlor with a
THUD, landing on my hands and knees.
I waited a few seconds to catch my
breath. Then I climbed slowly to my feet.
I jumped as the window curtains, blown by the
wind, brushed against my back. The curtains
wrapped around me, as if trying to hold me
back.
I tore them away, blinking, struggling to see
in the blackness.
"Can I turn on a light?" I called to the
window. "I can't see a thing."
"No. No lights," Brad whispered.
"Someone might see. Here." He clicked on a
flashlight, held it up to the open window, and sent
a dim beam of light darting over the floor.
"Big help," I muttered to myself.
I took a few steps into the room--tripped
over something on the floor--fell forward--and landed
on top of it.
A body!



"Oh, nooooo!" I opened my mouth in a
moan of horror.
I rolled off it. Scrambled to my feet.
No. Please--no!
I gazed down. Not a body. Some kind of
duffel bag. A supply bag maybe.
I froze, struggling to catch my breath.
"What's wrong, Can-Can-Can-Craig?"
David's mocking voice snapped me into action.
"Nothing," I called back to them. "No
problem." I hoped they didn't notice how my
voice was shaking.
The circle of light from Brad's flashlight
bounced around at my feet. One of the other boys
clicked on another flashlight. So now, two
circles of light swirled around like
mini-spotlights over the floor.
I squinted around the room. A long room with a
low ceiling just a foot or two over my head.
I saw two metal tables side by side. One
of them stood bare. The other was covered by a sheet.
A desk cluttered with papers. A row of
filing cabinets against one wall. Coils and
tubes. Equipment that looked as if it belonged in
a hospital.
And then ...
... coffins.
A long row of dark wood coffins, shiny in the
light from the darting flashlights. Coffins resting
on low tables.
"Oh, wow," I murmured. My mouth
dropped open.
I shielded my eyes as one of the flashlight
beams rolled onto my face. "Cut it out!"
I called angrily to the window.
"The first coffin," Brad instructed. "Go to the
first coffin."
I turned and saw him pointing with the flashlight.
"He's wimping out," I heard Frankie
say. "Step back, guys. Give him room
to run."
"He's not running," Amy said sharply. "Go
get 'em, Craig!" she shouted. "This is easy
money!"
Easy for her, maybe.
I stared from coffin to coffin. Could I really
climb in one?
What did it feel like? I wondered. What
did it smell like?
My heart pounding, I turned back to the
window. "Do I have to pull the lid closed over
me?" I asked, staring into the twin circles of
light.
"Just climb in," Brad replied
impatiently. "Are you going to do it or not,
Craig? It's getting cold out here."
"Of course he's going to do it," Amy
answered for me again.
I turned and walked slowly up to the first
coffin. The two beams of light flashed onto the
green wall above it. The coffin lid was closed.
"Go, Craig! Go, Craig!" Amy
chanted, urging me on.
"What is he waiting for?" David whispered.
I lowered my hands to the coffin lid. The wood
felt cool and smooth. My heart pounded so hard
I could barely breathe.
Push it up and jump in, Craig, I told
myself.
Don't even think about it--just do it.
It's no big deal. No big deal at all.
A coffin is just a big wooden box.
It's no different from lying down on a bed.
My hands left cold, wet spots on the
shiny wood. The circles of light danced on the
wall.
I gripped the lid. Took a deep breath.
Pushed with all my strength.
The coffin lid slid open. I gazed inside
--and started to scream.



Dark eyes stared up at me--glassy,
blank eyes.
I saw dark lips, frozen in a sick,
unnatural smile. One jagged tooth poked out
over the bottom lip.
The face.
I couldn't really see the face clearly. It
was hidden in deep shadow.
But I could see deep scars across its forehead
and cheeks.
And I could see the dark form of the body. Two
arms crossed over the chest.
Lying still ... so still.
Was I still screaming--or had I
stopped? My shrill wail still rang in my ears.
"Craig--what's wrong?" Amy's voice
rose over the sound. "What is it?"
"A--a corpse," I stammered, pointing with a
trembling finger into the coffin.
"I told you he'd scream," I heard Gus
say.
I heard the other boys snickering.
"Big surprise. A corpse in a funeral
home!"
They laughed again.
"It isn't funny," I gasped. "It's a
dead body."
My stomach churned. My throat tightened so
hard, my breath whistled.
The lights lowered to the floor. I struggled
to see the corpse's face.
No. No. Too dark.
"So do you give up?" Brad demanded.
"He can't do it!" Gus declared.
"We win!" David cheered. "We win sixty
big ones!"
"No way!" Amy protested. She poked her
head through the window. "You can still do it--right,
Craig? You can lie down in there? Easy, right?"
"Huh?" I choked out, my voice cracking.
"Lie down on top of the corpse?"
"I know you're not afraid," Amy said.
Not afraid? I'm TERRIFIED!
"Do it!" Amy urged.
I turned back to the coffin. Outside the
window, the others grew silent. I peered into the
darting gray light.
I gripped the side of the coffin.
The sour odor of formaldehyde swirled around
me. I suddenly felt sick. My stomach
lurched.
I leaned over the coffin.
Can I do it? Can I climb in?
No, I realized.
No. I can't. No way. I just can't.
I let go of the coffin and started to back away.
I heard a groan.
And saw a quick gray blur.
The hand.
The corpse's hand.
It shot up--and grabbed the front of my
parka.




I opened my mouth to scream--but no sound came
out.
The hand tightened its grip.
The other hand grabbed on.
The corpse gave a hard tug, pulling me
into the coffin.
"No--" I gasped. I tried to pull
back.
The corpse sat up. Gripping my parka.
Pulling ... pulling me in ...
The glassy eyes glared at me without blinking.
The scars over the cheek and forehead throbbed
darkly.
"No ... no ..." I gripped the
corpse's wrists. Tried to shove the dead hands
off.
But the corpse dove forward and wrapped its
hands around my shoulders.
It used me to pull itself up. Then to pull me
down into the coffin.
"No ... No ..." The word escaped my
throat in a horrified chant. "No ..."
The corpse kept pulling. My face was
buried in its chest.
I jerked back.
And fell to the floor--taking the corpse with
me.
"Ouch!" I cried out in pain as the body landed
heavily on top of me.
"Get off! Get off!" I shrieked.
Before I even realized what I was doing, I was
wrestling with it. Rolling out from under it. Pushing ...
pushing it away.
But the corpse held on to my arms. Pulled
me down on top of it.
We wrestled frantically, rolling over and
over.
Groaning and grunting. Tugging at each other.
My chest ached. My head spun.
I shot up both hands. Grabbed the corpse's
wiry black hair.
Grabbed the hair--and tugged. Tugged with all
my strength.
And pulled its head off!




No. Not its head.
Not a head.
The scars wrinkled. The mouth, with its one
overhanging tooth, collapsed.
A mask. A rubber mask.
Swallowing hard, I lowered my gaze--and stared
at Travis's scowling face.
Travis? Travis in the coffin?
Of course. Why hadn't I guessed?
We stared at each other, our mouths open,
chests heaving up and down, both struggling to catch
our breath.
I expected him to jump up. Laugh.
Celebrate his victory.
But instead, he shook his head unhappily.
"How did you know it was me?" he asked.
Ceiling lights flashed on. Blinking in the
bright light, I turned and saw that the others had
climbed in through the window.
Brad picked up the ugly, scarred mask and
rolled it around on his hand. Amy reached out and
helped pull me to my feet.
"How did you know it was me?" Travis demanded
again.
"Well ..." I felt so stunned, I
couldn't think.
I had no idea it was Travis. I really
thought a corpse had come to life!
"You didn't fool Craig for a minute!"
Amy's voice broke into my thoughts. "See?
You can't scare him. He's too brave and he's
too smart."
"I don't get it," Travis murmured, still
down on the floor. "I thought you'd turn and
run. I thought you'd run out of here screaming and
never stop. I really did."
Amy let out a scornful laugh. "That'll be
the day!" She turned to the others. "Pay up,
losers. Sixty bucks."
"You fought me and pulled off my mask,"
Travis said. He appeared to be in shock.
"How did you know? How?"
I shrugged. I didn't know what to say.
I couldn't tell him the truth. That I was
petrified. That I nearly died of fright.
I've got to stop this crazy game, I told
myself. I've got to stop Travis and Brad.
And Amy!
But Amy's voice rang out again. "So you
dressed up as a corpse? A phony corpse?
That was no big deal," she bragged. "Craig
isn't afraid of fake corpses. He isn't
afraid of real corpses!"
"Oh, yeah?" Travis replied, finally
climbing to his feet.
"Craig will climb into a coffin with a real
corpse," Amy declared. "No problem!"
Amy--shut up! Shut up! I thought. I
balled my hands into tight fists.
Why didn't she ever check with me first? Did
she really think I could do anything?
Travis narrowed his eyes at me. He
brushed a ball of lint off the shoulder of my
parka. "Not afraid of real corpses, huh?"
he said, studying me.
"Well ...," I started.
"Okay. We'll see about that," Travis
said.
"No ... uh ...," I stammered.
Travis turned to Amy. "One last bet,"
he told her. "Craig's final challenge."
I hated the way he said final!
"Double or nothing," Travis added. "We'll
meet you back here. Real soon."



The next night, I paced back and forth in my
room and practiced my speech to Amy. "This
has to stop. I don't want a final
challenge. I can't take one more dare. I really
can't take it."
I said the words out loud. I repeated my
speech again and again, until I knew every word
by heart.
Maybe, I thought, if I tell her the
truth, Amy will finally listen to me.
If I stop pretending and let her know the
truth about me, I know she'll stop bragging about
me. And I can live a normal, peaceful,
safe life.
I ran through the speech one more time. Then I
picked up the phone and punched in Amy's
number.
She picked up after the third ring.
"Hi, it's me," I said. My whole body
felt tense and tight. But I didn't care. In
a few minutes, I hoped, my
nightmare would be over.
"Craig, what did you get for the third math
problem?" she asked.
"I don't want to talk about math now," I
replied.
"I never want to talk about math!" she
exclaimed. "But I need help with the third
problem."
I sighed and dropped down onto the edge of my
bed. "Listen, I have to tell you something," I said.
Silence for a moment.
"Are you okay?" she asked finally. "You sound
so ... serious."
"I need to tell you something," I repeated.
"Okay. Shoot," she replied.
I took a deep breath and started my speech.
"I'm not brave," I announced.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm not brave, Amy. I've been
terrified ever since I moved to Middle
Valley. I--"
"Craig, I saw how brave you are--
remember?" Amy interrupted. "I saw you
risk your life to rescue that baby in the car. And
I saw you climb that tree to save the little boy.
And rescue the bird's nest, and--"
"It was all an accident," I insisted.
"Please--let me finish."
I took another deep breath. Confessing the
truth was hard. But I had to do it.
"You know when Travis said I used to be
called Can-Can-Can-Craig? It's true. That's
what kids called me at my old school. They
called me Can-Can-Can-Craig because I was a
total wimp. And I still am, Amy."
Silence at her end of the line. I could hear her
breathing. But she didn't say a word.
"All of these dares," I continued. "They're
scaring me to death. I can't take it anymore.
That's why I'm finally telling you the truth. I
want you to call off the bet. Call the whole thing
off."
I sighed. "I'm too scared. I really am.
Call off the bet. Okay? Okay?"
Silence again at Amy's end.
Finally! I thought. I finally got through to her.
"Craig, you're such a nice person," she
said finally.
"Excuse me? Nice?"
"You're the nicest guy I ever met!"
she gushed. "It's just so nice of you to worry about
Travis and Brad."
I swallowed hard. "Huh? What are you
talking about, Amy?"
"I know why you said all that," Amy replied.
"You don't think Travis and Brad can afford
to lose a hundred and twenty dollars. And you
don't want to embarrass them. That's so nice
of you!"
"But--but--" I sputtered.
"So that's why you're pretending to be afraid,"
she continued. "You don't want them to lose all
that money. That's so nice of you! I can't
believe it!"
I took another deep breath. "So you'll
cancel the bet?" I asked hesitantly.
"Of course not!" she replied. "We're going
ahead with it, Craig. They deserve to be taught
a lesson."
"But I can't climb into a coffin with a real
corpse!" I whined.
Amy laughed. "Of course you can. I know it's
no big deal. Stop pretending. I've got
to go. My dad is yelling for me to finish my
math. Bye."
I heard a loud click. The line went dead.
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the
phone in my hand.
"It's no use," I muttered out loud.
Amy won't believe me. She won't
believe that I'm a total coward--no matter
what I say.
I've got to do something to stop this, I told
myself.
But what?
The phone rang in my hand. I jumped up and
dropped it to the floor.
Even a ringing phone scares me! I thought.
Why won't Amy believe me? What am I
going to do?
I picked up the phone. "Hello? Amy?"
"No. It's me. Brad."
"Oh, hi," I said. "Are you having trouble
with the third math problem too?"
Brad didn't answer my question. "It's tomorrow
night, Craig," he said in a low, solemn
voice.
My heart started to pound. I nearly dropped
the phone again. "Excuse me?"
"Travis says to meet at the same
place," Brad replied. "At the funeral
parlor. Tomorrow night."



Amy and I walked through the clear, cool
night. A pale sliver of a moon floated low
over the rooftops against a gray-blue sky. The
trees stood silent and still.
We met Travis and his friends outside
Travis's house. Then we let Travis lead
the way to his father's funeral parlor.
Frankie and Gus tossed a tennis ball
back and forth as we walked. Gus kept missing
it and having to chase it over the dark front
lawns.
Travis, Brad, and David all wore
solemn expressions.
They mean business tonight, I told myself.
"Do you guys really have a hundred and twenty
dollars to lose?" Amy called to them.
"Sure," Brad replied. "There are five
of us. So we don't have to chip in that much."
Travis spun around and started walking
backwards. "Do you have the money?" he challenged
Amy.
"We don't need any money," Amy
replied sharply. "We're not going to lose."
She clapped me on the back. "Craig and I
only have one problem."
"What's that?" Travis demanded.
"How to spend all that money!" Amy
exclaimed.
Travis scowled and spun back around.
"We'll see," he muttered.
"Hey--no tricks tonight?" I asked. "No
one popping out of a coffin in a silly Halloween
costume?"
"No tricks tonight," Travis replied.
"We don't need any tricks, Craig.
There's a real corpse in there."
David bumped me off the sidewalk. "Are
you terrified yet?" he asked, grinning. "Tell
the truth--are you, Craig?"
Amy lowered her shoulder and bumped David.
He is twice her size--but she knocked him
off the curb and sent him sprawling into the street.
"Craig isn't even going to answer that question," she
sneered.
We stopped at the hedges behind the
parking lot. The funeral parlor stood dark and
silent, as it had the other night.
But tonight, no rain. And no wind. Everything still.
Eerily still.
Still as death.
Following Travis, we made our way to the
back window. Our shoes scraping over the
asphalt parking lot was the only sound.
We stepped into the deep darkness behind the
building. Travis raised both hands and slid the
window up easily. He motioned for me to climb
in first.
I hesitated. "Is there really a corpse in
there?" I asked in a trembling voice.
Travis nodded. "Yes. A real corpse.
How many times do I have to tell you? He was
delivered this morning."
"Still fresh," Gus joked.
But no one laughed.
I remembered the last time we came here. I
remembered the big plastic bag delivered by the
two men in the van.
I shuddered. I tried to imagine what a dead
body looked like. What it felt like.
Travis glanced behind us tensely. "Come on,
hurry, Can-Can-Can-Craig. Get in. Before
someone sees us." He gave me a boost onto
the window ledge. "Come on. It's show time."
I took one last glance back at my friends.
Am I really doing this? I asked myself.
Then I uttered a sigh, turned, and lowered
myself into the building.



The sharp, sour smell of formaldehyde
greeted me once again. I covered my nose and
tried to breathe through my mouth.
I heard a scrambling behind me. The thud of
shoes on the floor. The others climbed through the
window.
Travis clicked on a ceiling light and
dimmed it. I squinted around the gray room. The
dim light cast long, eerie shadows over the
floor, like dark pools. I had the sudden feeling
that if I stepped into one, I'd sink and never be
seen again.
I shook that thought away and took a few steps
toward the row of coffins. The lids were all shut.
The polished wood glowed under the pale
ceiling light.
I felt a hand squeeze my shoulder. I
turned to find Travis grinning at me.
"What's your problem?" I demanded.
A mocking smile spread over his freckled
face. "A little tense, Can-Can-Can-Craig?"
I didn't answer. I stared at the row of
coffins.
"I decided to give you a break," Travis
said, still squeezing my shoulder.
"Excuse me?" I replied. "A break?"
He nodded. "I know you're terrified. We
don't want to scare you to death!"
Some of the others laughed.
Big joke.
"So you don't have to climb in with the old guy,"
Travis continued, guiding me to a coffin in the
middle of the row. "You just have to shake his hand and then
give him a nice, cheek-to-cheek hug."
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, wow. Thanks
for the break."
Hug a corpse?
Travis grinned at me. "If you just want
to pay us the money and forget about it ...?"
"No way!" Amy broke between us, shoving
Travis's hand off my shoulder. "This is too
easy! Too easy!"
Travis stepped up to side of the coffin.
"Okay. Whatever you say."
He motioned for Brad to help him. The two of
them grabbed the coffin lid and slid it up.
I gasped as the old man's body came
into view. I'd never seen a dead person before.
He lay on his back, in a black suit,
white shirt, and dark tie. His arms stretched
stiffly at his sides, hands clenched
into chalk-white fists.
He had wispy white hair, brushed straight
back over a speckled forehead. His eyes were
closed. His lips appeared to be lipsticked red.
His skin was kind of orange, not real-looking at
all.
Not a joke this time, I realized, staring down
wide-eyed at him. He isn't going to sit up
and grab my jacket.
He's really dead.
I leaned over the coffin. Could I shake his
hand? Could I hug him?
"Go ahead," Amy urged. "No problem--
right, Craig?"
"I--I guess," I stammered.
David laughed. He pointed at me.
"Look at Can-Can-Can-Craig. He's shaking!
Look at him!"
Frankie and Gus laughed too.
Brad stood down at the end of the coffin, near
the old guy's feet, chewing his bottom lip
nervously. The corpse's black shoes glowed like
new under the ceiling light.
"Shake his hand," Travis ordered. "Go
ahead. If you can."
I swallowed hard. I couldn't take my
eyes off the orange face, the speckled
forehead, the bright, lipsticked lips.
"Give up?" Travis demanded. "Can't do
it?"
"I--I'm doing it," I insisted.
I took a deep breath and held it. Then I
started to lower my right hand into the coffin.
I shut my eyes.
Am I really doing this? Am I really going
to touch a dead man?
Yes.
I opened my eyes--and wrapped my fingers
around the white fist.
Yuck. The hand felt hard. Cold.
It didn't feel like a hand. It felt like
stone.
"Shake," Travis ordered.
I shook the hand. Once. Twice.
"Ohhhh." I dropped it and jumped back.
The guys all laughed.
"Craig did it!" Amy declared. "You lose,
Travis."
I shook my right hand hard, trying to shake
away the touch of the corpse.
"He isn't finished. It's hug time,"
Travis said.
"You don't win unless you give the guy a
hug," David chimed in.
My stomach did a major flip-flop.
"You have to hug him cheek to cheek," Travis
insisted.
Oh, wow.
How gross.
I have to press my face against that cold
orange skin?
"Craig has no problem with that," Amy
declared. "Show them, Craig."
Thanks for all the support,
Amy, I thought bitterly.
I wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for
you.
They were all staring hard at me. Watching.
Waiting.
I had no choice. I had to hug the corpse.
I turned to the coffin. I leaned over the side
and started to lower my hands toward the old man.
A loud creaking sound made me stop.
I stood straight up.
And heard another CREAK.
I turned to my friends. Their faces were startled,
wide-eyed. They heard it too.
"What is that?" I whispered.
Another CREAK.
I glanced down the row of coffins.
And saw a coffin lid move. And then another.
All down the row, the coffins were slowly opening.



I let out a cry and staggered back against the
wall.
Gazing across the room, I saw hands pushing the
lids up from inside coffins. Swollen red hands.
Bruised purple hands. Pale hands white as
flour.
"We--we've disturbed the dead!" I
shrieked.
The lid stood straight up on the coffin next
to us. I heard an ugly hoarse groan. A
green-skinned corpse sat up, turning its
decayed head. It tried to open its eyes--but they
were sewn shut!
The room filled with throaty groans and sighs
like air escaping from tires. Another coffin lid
lurched open. A corpse with a yellowed, rotting
face began to lower itself heavily from its coffin.
Another corpse lurched to a sitting position
across from him. I gasped as I saw the white
worms wriggling out from his nostrils.
"Noooo!" Travis opened his mouth in a howl
of horror.
"This is ... impossible!" David shrieked.
"We disturbed them! We disturbed them!" I
wailed.
We all screamed as a closet door swung
open. The door slammed hard against the wall.
And hideous corpses fell out, staggering like
sleepwalkers. Eyes sewn shut, their
skin splotchy, falling off their gray skulls.
Arms outstretched, they moved so stiffly,
groaning, groaning from deep in their caved-in
chests as they staggered across the room.
Toward us.
Amy screamed.
Travis and Brad backed up beside me, their
mouths open, eyes wide.
I heard another gasping groan. And turned
to see a corpse drop to the floor. His head was
covered in a floppy, wide-brimmed hat. He
wore a huge trench coat, many sizes too
big for him. With another groan, he pulled himself
up and began staggering toward us.
As he lurched forward, the hat tilted back.
We screamed as his face came into view.
Half a face. Only half a face.
Gray skin stretched over bone. A dead mouse
clinging to his empty eye socket.
"Nooooo!" We all howled in horror.
But our cries were drowned out by the deep, ugly
groans. The gasping breaths ... the hissing
sighs.
A tall, purple-skinned corpse led the
others. Head bowed, eyes sewn shut, he
pulled one leg forward, then the other.
Suddenly, he stopped.
I let out a cry as his left hand fell off.
It hit the floor with a soft plop and bounced under
one of the lab tables.
The corpse paused for only a second, then
came lurching blindly toward us once again.
"Let's get out of here!" Gus screamed, his
face twisted in panic.
Too late.
They had us cornered. They had us backed against
the wall.
I glanced down at the old man, the only
corpse that didn't rise up.
Shuffling their heavy shoes over the floor, the
corpses moved closer. Closer.
"Craig--do something!" Amy shrieked.
"Huh?" I gasped. "Me?"
"Stop them!" Travis cried, shoving me
forward. "Craig--you can do it! You're the only
brave one here!"
"I am?" I choked out.
"Yes! You win the bet!" Travis cried in
a trembling voice. He was so frightened, so
pale, all his freckles had
disappeared!
"You win! You win!" Travis declared. "Just
stop them! Do something!"
"But what can I do-do?" I stammered in a
tiny voice, my whole body trembling.
"Do something!" Amy wailed. "You have to save
us!"
She gave me a hard shove.
I stumbled forward.
And a tall corpse dove forward and wrapped
its rotting arms around my waist.



"Let go! Let go!" I shrieked.
I squirmed and struggled.
But the green-skinned corpse, eyes sewn
tight, maggot-infested hair down over its
rotting face, grasped me tighter.
I heard the others screaming.
I looked up and saw them running--flying--to the
back window.
David reached the window first. He dove through it
and vanished outside.
The corpse wrapped its clammy hands around
my waist. "Unh unh unh." It grunted in
my ear, its sour breath tingling my skin.
Gus and Frankie scrambled over each other,
squeezing themselves out the window at the same time.
Travis vanished too. Amy followed. Brad
dove out headfirst.
"Come back," I gasped. "It--it won't
let go! Come back!"
"Wait!" I heard Amy cry. "Hey--
wait! We can't leave Craig in there!"
"We'll get help!" I heard Travis
promise, his voice shrill with panic.
"We'll call the police!"
With a hard tug, I pulled myself free of the
corpse's grip.
I scrambled to the window and peered outside.
And watched them all running across the parking
lot, running full speed, running away in
total terror.

I waited for about half an hour. Then I
walked to Brad's house.
He must have been watching for me out the window.
He pulled open the front door before I rang
the bell.
"That was awesome!" he exclaimed.
I slapped him a high five. "Yeah.
Awesome. Thanks for helping me, Brad," I
said.
We both started to laugh. We slapped each
other another high five.
I followed Brad into his living room.
"Your brother and his friends were excellent
corpses!" I declared. "They scared everyone
to death!" I laughed. "Even I almost believed
them!"
"They looked so perfect," Brad agreed.
"All that disgusting green and purple makeup on
their faces. The way they staggered with their eyes
shut."
His smile suddenly faded. "Hey--don't
ever tell Travis I helped you with this," he
said.
"No. No way," I promised.
"I just thought enough was enough," Brad explained.
"It was getting too mean. Time to end it once and for
all. Besides, I owed you one for helping me with
Grant in school the other day."
"Yeah. I'm glad it's all over," I
sighed. I dropped onto the couch. "Be sure
to tell Grant thanks, okay? And tell him
to thank his friends too."
Brad chuckled. "Grant loves to scare
people," he said. "I didn't have to ask him
twice."
"Maybe we can all relax now and just be
friends," I said. "I mean--"
I didn't finish because Grant came striding
into the room.
"Hey, Grant--" I started.
Grant frowned at me. "Sorry my friends and
I couldn't make it tonight," he said.



"Huh?" Brad and I both gasped.
"But--but--" I sputtered.
"What do you mean?" Brad demanded shrilly.
Grant shook his head. "My friends and I--we
showed up at the funeral parlor. But the doors were
all locked. No way to get in. So we
left."
"Huh? You left?" I cried.
Grant nodded. "Yeah. There didn't seem
to be anyone in there. So we left and
went out for pizza."
"But--but--" I sputtered again.
"You mean ...?" Brad suddenly looked very
pale. "The corpses ...?"
"Hope I didn't mess up your plans,"
Grant said. "Can we try again tomorrow night?"
Brad uttered a low moan. "I ... I
feel sick!" he exclaimed. "I'm going
to puke!"
He clapped both hands over his mouth. And
flew out of the room.
Grant turned to me. "What's .his problem?"
"The corpses ...," I murmured. "They
walked! They walked!"



Then Grant and I burst out laughing.
We both dropped onto the couch, giggling.
"We got Brad too!" I exclaimed
happily. "He deserved it. He thought he was
helping me out tonight. But I had to pay him back
too."
Grant laughed till he had tears in his
eyes. "Hey, any time I can scare my little
brother and his creep friends, just let me know."
"Well ... you guys did a great job," I
told him.
"It was fun," Grant replied. "Did you
see Brad's face go pale just now? He really
believed my friends and I didn't show up at the
funeral parlor. He really believed the
corpses came to life."
"Good thing Brad didn't notice this," I
said. I pointed to a glob of green makeup
caught behind Grant's ear. "You forgot to wash off
a chunk."
"I left my rubber hand at the funeral
parlor too," Grant grumbled. "I'll have to go
back tomorrow and get it. That hand comes in handy!
Ha-ha! That's a joke. Get it?"
We laughed some more. I felt like jumping up and
down, whooping at the top of my lungs.
I left the house, still chuckling.
What a great night! I paid everyone back for
torturing me--even Amy. My plan worked
perfectly.
The dares were over.
No more challenges.
No more kids calling me
Can-Can-Can-Craig.
I turned the corner and headed for home.
Heavy clouds covered the sky. Somewhere down the
block, a dog howled.
But I wasn't scared.
I was Craig, the hero. Craig, the
superhero!
I knew I'd never be scared again.
I only wished the moon would come out.
Why did it have to be so dark?

               THE END

10 Headless Halloween - Goosebumps 2000

2012-02-21T03:31:00.000-08:00

"AAAAAIIIIII!"

That's the sound of terror. A loud, bloodcurdling scream.

I love it.

I know, I know. It's kind of sick. But I can't help it ...

My name is Brandon Plush. And my motto is "Make 'Em Scream."

I love scaring people. I love hearing kids gasp in surprise - and then
shriek their heads off.

It's so funny. True panic - it always makes me laugh.

Dad says I have a cruel streak. He says I get it from him. The two of us
stay up late watching horror movies on TV. We always laugh when people
get sliced and diced or eaten by monsters.

2 Mom says I have to be nicer to people. Whenever she says that, Dad and
I share a secret smile. We know that scary is fun.

My sister, Maya, is seven, and she is the perfect victim. Maya screams
if you cross your eyes at her. She's scared of bugs, worms, dogs, cats,
bats, and even some kinds of birds.

She's a great kid, and she's terrified of me. I can make her scream with
one hand tied behind my back.

Last night, I hid in her closet wearing one of the ugliest masks from my
scary mask collection.

The man who sold it to me told me it was a one-of-a-kind mask.

"Nobody else has anything like it," he said.

When Maya opened the closet door, I growled like a wild animal and came
leaping out at her in my mask.

The poor kid screamed, and spit up her entire dinner.

Ha ha. Did I laugh? I couldn't stop!

I told you, she's the perfect victim.

"Brandon - why did you do that?" Mom demanded. She wasn't happy. She had
to clean up the mess.

"Oops!" I replied. "Just joking."

That's my other motto: "Oops - just joking."

Did I scare ten years off your life? Did I scare you out of your skin?
Oops - just joking!

4 My cousin Vinnie lives down the block. He's nearly as bad as Maya.
Vinnie is eleven, just a year younger than me. But he's a scrawny little
nerd.

If he was big enough to have a shadow, he'd be terrified of it!

I can scare Vinnie in my sleep.

On Saturday, I found a fat purple worm in the backyard. When Vinnie came
over, I slipped the worm down the back of his sweater. I told him it was
a poisonous snake.

Did he scream?

Ha ha! He set a world record.

Then Vinnie froze as the worm slid down his back. His eyes practically
popped out of his head, and his teeth began to chatter.

Finally, I reached down his back, pulled out the worm, and held it up to
Vinnie's face. "Oops - just joking!" I told him.

Then I laughed for a week.

Vinnie just stood there shaking. He cracks me up. He really does.

Vinnie and Maya and a lot of other kids in my neighborhood are in major
trouble. That's because it's nearly Halloween - my favorite time of the
year.

I have big plans for Halloween.

I plan to go headless this year.

[3]

2

Jennifer and Ray are two little kids who live across the street from
Vinnie. Sometimes when their parents can't find anyone else, they ask me
to baby-sit.

Guess why I love to baby-sit for the two brats.

That's right.

They're total 'fraidy cats.

I can make them scream with my eyes shut.

I love to tell them scary stories. I tell them stories that make their
flesh creep. That curdle their blood. That make their hair stand on end.

They always scream till they choke. And if my story is really good,
sometimes I can make them cry.

Ha ha!

They're pitiful. You've got to love it!

5 A few nights ago, I was down the block baby-sitting for them. I led
the two little angels down to the rec room in the basement.

"I'm going to tell you a true story," I said.

"Please don't tell a scary story!" Jennifer begged.

"Please don't scare us tonight," Ray whined.

You should have seen how sweet they looked, begging me to go easy on them.

But I turned the lights real low, and I told them the scariest ghost
story I could think of. I used my creepy, whispery voice. And I spoke
real softly, so they had to lean in close to hear. "Your parents don't
want you to know this," I started. "But it's a true story."

Their eyes grew wider. I could see they were scared already!

"Another family used to live in your house," I told them. "They had a
boy and a girl about your age. But the boy and the girl didn't last
long. Something horrible happened to them. Right in this basement. Right
in this room."

"Please stop," Ray begged.

Jennifer had her hands over her ears. But I knew she could still hear me.

"I don't like this story," Ray whined.

"I don't like it, either," his sister agreed.

"It gets better," I told them.

I took a deep breath and started again in a

6 whisper "Did you know your house is haunted?" I asked.

Their mouths dropped open.

"Well, the boy and girl didn't know. They didn't know that a very cruel
ghost lived down in this basement. The ghost stayed quiet most of the
time. But it had one bad habit."

"Please stop," Jennifer begged in a trembling voice.

"Yeah. Let's go upstairs," Ray pleaded.

"Every year, just before Halloween, the ghost liked to murder anyone who
came down to this room," I continued. " 'The basement is mine,' the
ghost declared. 'If someone comes down here, I'll make them suffer. I'll
turn them into ghosts too.' "

"This isn't true - is it?" Jennifer asked in a tiny voice.

"It's just a story - right?" her wimpy little brother added.

"Of course it's true," I answered. "It happened right over there." I
pointed.

"What happened?" Jennifer asked.

"The boy and girl didn't know about the ghost. They came down to the
basement to play. They were down on the floor, right over there." I
pointed again.

"Slowly ... slowly ... the ghost crept up behind the boy. Closer ...
Closer ... "

"Please!" Jennifer begged, covering her ears again.

7 "Please - stop!" Copycat Ray covered his ears too.

"Closer ... ," I whispered. "The ghost floated closer, it stretched out
its cold, dead arms ... curled and uncurled its bony, dead fingers. It
reached out ... reached out - AND PULLED OFF THE BOY'S HEAD!" I
screamed, grabbing Ray by the throat.

Both kids let out horrified shrieks.

"Wh-what happened to the girl?" Jennifer stuttered.

"She ran away," I told them. "She was never seen again. That's why their
parents sold this house to your parents."

"But the boy - ?" Ray started.

"The headless boy is still down here," I whispered. I looked around, as
if searching for him. "The headless boy haunts the basement now.
Waiting. Waiting for fresh victims."

"That's a lie!" Jennifer cried, jumping to her feet. "It's just a story
- right? There is no headless boy down here."

"Brandon, can we please go upstairs?" Ray begged. He grabbed his
sister's hand and held on to it for dear life.

They were both so scared, they were shaking like Jell-O.

Maybe I should have given them a break. Maybe I should have stopped there.

But I had a brilliant idea.

8 "Sit down," I ordered them. "Don't move. I'm going to prove that the
headless boy lives here. I'll be right back."

They begged me not to leave them there. But I ran upstairs and found my
bag. I always bring a bag of special stuff with me on baby-sitting jobs.
You know. Masks and props to help me scare the kiddies to death.

I pulled out the ugly rubber mask I'd brought. It had stringy blue hair,
gobs of green rubber slime pouring from empty eye sockets, and deep cuts
and scabs all over its face.

"Perfect," I murmured to myself. I guess I was grinning from ear to ear.
My plan was so awesome.

I quickly made myself headless. It was easy. I pulled my shirt up and
buttoned it over my head. My head was completely hidden.

Then I bent a coat hanger and made it stand up from my shirt collar. And
I slid the ugly mask over the hanger, onto my shoulders.

I checked myself in the front hall mirror. Yes! The mask now looked like
my head.

Show time!

I made my way down the stairs and staggered into the rec room. "I'm the
headless boy!" I cried in a deep, scary voice. "I'm the headless one who
haunts the basement."

Ray screamed. But Jennifer just sneered at me. "We know it's you,
Brandon," she said.

9 "I'm the headless one," I repeated. "Go ahead. Pull off the mask."

They hesitated.

"Pull off the mask," I repeated.

Finally, Jennifer stepped forward. She raised both hands to the sides of
the mask and tugged it off.

No head!

No head underneath!

They screamed so hard, the walls shook. And then they started to cry.

Both of them. Wailing in terror.

A great moment.

But it lasted only a moment.

Because I turned toward the stairs - and it was my turn to scream!

10 I screamed because both parents stood at the bottom of the steps.

They didn't look too happy.

I poked my head up from under the shirt.

"What's wrong?" the mom asked. She went running to the crying kids.
"Kids? What's wrong? What happened?"

The dad glared at me angrily. "Why are they crying, Brandon?"

I shrugged. "Beats me," I replied. "Maybe something scared them."

When I got home, I called my best friend, Cal. Cal is big. He's nearly
six feet tall, and he weighs at least a ton. Maybe two tons.

He can be pretty scary when he wants to be.

11 And he likes to pick on kids who aren't his size - which is why he's
my best friend.

"Cal, I just did the coolest thing," I told him. "I terrified these two
kids by making myself headless."

"Cool," Cal replied. But I could tell he didn't know what I was talking
about.

It took me a while to explain the whole thing to him. Then he said
"Cool" again.

"Let's go headless on Halloween," I suggested. "If we both go headless,
we can really make kids scream."

"Excellent," Cal replied. "And maybe we can lock some kids in the
haunted house. You know. The old house at the dead end."

Cal and I had a lot of fun locking kids in the haunted house. Then we'd
wait outside and listen to them scream.

"I can't wait," Cal said.

I had to hang up the phone. Mom was calling me from downstairs.

"Don't have a cow! I'm coming!" I shouted.

I could tell she was angry. Mom has long red hair, and she flings it
from side to side when she's angry. Both of her hands were balled into
tight fists.

"Brandon, Mrs. Sullivan just phoned me," Mom said through gritted teeth.

"Uh-oh." I gulped. Mrs. Sullivan is Jennifer and Ray's mom.

12 "She forgot to pay me," I said. "Is that why she called?"

Mom swung her hair from side to side. "That's not why she called,'' she
snapped.

"Uh-oh." I gulped again.

"Mrs. Sullivan said you terrified her kids," Mom continued. "She can't
get them to stop crying. She said she'll never use you as a baby-sitter
again."

"Never?"

"Never."

I lowered my head. "Sorry," I murmured.

That usually works.

Whenever I'm in major trouble, I lower my head and mutter "Sorry" as
softly and sincerely as I can. And that's usually the end of it.

It didn't seem to be working this time.

"Sorry." I muttered it again.

"You're sorry?" Mom cried. "But why do you do it, Brandon? Why are you
always scaring kids?"

"Because it's fun?" I replied.

In school the next morning, I was carrying a glass beaker to the science
lab. I stopped in the hall to watch Cal stuff a fourth grader into a locker.

The kid asked for it. He stepped on Cal's new Air Jordans. It was an
accident. But Cal had no choice. He jammed the poor kid into the locker,
slammed the door, and locked it.

I flashed the big guy a thumbs-up. Then I

13 continued on my way, holding the beaker in both hands.

I turned the corner - and saw cousin Vinnie heading my way.

The little wimp had his head buried in a book. He was reading as he
walked down the hall, and he didn't see me.

"Vinnie - look out!" I called. "I'm carrying this acid to the science lab."

He glanced up - just as I tripped.

The liquid flew up from the beaker -

- and splashed over Vinnie.

Over his head, his face, and down the front of his shirt.

And we both opened our mouths in screams of horror.

14 "My face! My eyes!" Vinnie wailed. He dropped to his knees and folded
his body into a quivering ball.

"Oh, be quiet. It's only water," I told him.

"Huh?" The little geek opened his eyes. "Only water?"

"Oops - just joking!" I cried.

He swallowed a couple of times. Then he brushed water from his face with
both hands. "That wasn't funny, Brandon," he muttered angrily.

"Yes, it was," I replied.

"No, it wasn't funny!" boomed a deep voice from close behind me.

I spun around, nearly dropping the empty glass beaker. "Mr. Benson?" I
gasped.

My least favorite teacher.

15 He clapped a big hand on my shoulder. "Not funny, Brandon," he
repeated. He had a voice like a bass drum. Even when he whispered, the
words came out loud.

Mr. Benson is about ten feet tall and all muscle. Behind his back, kids
call him "Mountain."

He has thick black hair that he pulls back into a ponytail. And bushy
black eyebrows that dance up and down on his forehead like two
caterpillars.

He wears faded jeans and big, flannel shirts. And he has a tiny silver
ring in one ear.

A lot of kids think he's cool. But I don't like him much. He's very
strict in his science classes. And he always seems to have his eye on me.

Like now.

"Brandon, I saw the whole thing," Mr. Benson boomed. "I saw your little
joke from beginning to end."

"Oh," I replied. What else could I say?

"Have you ever heard of the Golden Rule?" he asked, his caterpillar
eyebrows going wild. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

"I never heard of that one," I muttered.

A group of kids had gathered around us in the hall. I started to feel
embarrassed. Mountain still had his huge paw on my shoulder.

Some girls were asking Vinnie how he got all wet.

Mr. Benson leaned over me. I could smell coffee on his breath. Yuck.

16 "Would you like Vinnie to splash water all over you?" he asked.

"I tripped!" I lied. "It was an accident."

Mr. Benson's eyebrows jumped up and down on his broad forehead. He shook
his head. "Brandon, I told you, I saw the whole thing," he repeated.

"He told me it was acid," Vinnie chimed in. The little wimp.

A few kids gasped.

"Come with me," Mr. Benson ordered. He began to guide me down the hall.

"But I'll be late for class!" I protested.

"Too bad," Mr. Benson replied. "You and I need to talk. I'm going to
give you Lecture Number Three-forty-five."

"What lecture is that?" I grumbled.

"It's all about cruelty to others."

He led me into his science classroom and shut the door. Then he made me
sit across from his desk.

He sat on the edge of his desk, hovering over me like a buzzard about to
eat its prey.

"For the rest of this week, I'd like you to stay after school and clean
the science lab," he said.

"But I didn't mess it up!" I protested.

He ignored that and began his lecture about this Golden Rule thing -
about how we have to be nice to other people if we want them to be nice
to us.

The lecture seemed to go on for hours. But I

17 tuned out after the first minute or two. His voice droned on in the
background.

I was already planning my revenge.

Mr. Benson, I thought, it's almost Halloween.

You shouldn't get on my case just before Halloween. Because now I have
no choice.

Now I have to think up a nice Halloween surprise for you.

18 I stayed after school and cleaned the science lab. It put me in a
really bad mood.

The last class had been doing some really smelly experiments. And now I
smelled just like the experiments.

I kicked my backpack most of the way home. It was so late, the sun was
already starting to go down. Fat brown leaves swirled around my legs in
a gusty, fall wind.

Starting up my driveway, I had a really good idea.

I dumped my backpack on the front steps. Then I made my way to the side
of the house. I climbed the wide oak tree that nearly touches the house.
And I edged out on a limb right outside my sister's bedroom window.

I slid open the window. And I waited.

19 The lights were on in Maya's room. And her computer screen glowed. I
knew she'd come upstairs soon. And when she entered her room, she
wouldn't be expecting any visitors. Especially not from the window.

I leaned close to the house and listened. Yes! Footsteps in the hall.

I edged along the tree branch, closer to the window. Then I leaned back
so Maya wouldn't see me when she walked into the room.

I held my breath and waited.

Maya stepped into the bedroom. I peeked in. What was she carrying? A
bowl of something. And a glass of chocolate milk.

Perfect.

She took a few steps toward her desk.

I leaned forward ... closer ...

"AAAAAAAGH!" I opened my mouth in a terrifying shriek - and dove through
the window.

Maya's eyes bulged. Her mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. Her
hands shot up. And the bowl and glass went flying.

The bowl shattered on the floor. Potato chips flew everywhere. The glass
landed on its side, spilling chocolate milk over the white shag rug.

"BRANDON!" Maya shrieked. "You jerk! You JERK!"

"Oops - just joking!" I exclaimed. I started to laugh. I thought I might
keep on laughing for at least a year.

20 Maya started furiously pounding my chest with her fists. But of
course, that only made me laugh harder.

"Okay, okay. I'll help you clean up," I told her. I knew I had to calm
her down.

I was totally cheered up. It doesn't take much to put me in a good mood.
Just a good scare.

"Promise you'll never do that again," Maya insisted.

"Promise," I replied.

"Do you really promise?" she demanded. "Really, really?"

"Sure," I said, patting her head. "I really promise."

It's easy to make promises. I mean, what are promises? Things that are
easy to break - right?

I helped her clean up the broken china and the potato chips and
chocolate milk. The rug had a big stain in it - but what could I do?

When we finished, Maya started getting her Halloween costume together.
What did she plan to be? A princess, of course.

"Brandon, what are you going to be?" she asked, fiddling with the
elastic band on a sparkly tiara.

"For trick-or-treat?" I replied. "I'm not wearing a costume. That's for
babies. I'll just scare some kid and grab his bag of candy."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "You're kidding - right?"

I grinned in reply.

21 Why would I kid about a thing like that?

I lowered my voice. "Know what Cal and I are going to do?"

"Something horrible, I'd guess," Maya said, making a face.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Cal and I are going to trash Mr. Benson's house."

"You are not!" Maya declared. She picked up a pink crepe skirt and held
it against her waist. "That's stupid."

"Why is it stupid?" I demanded.

"Because you're stupid!" she replied nastily.

"You're too stupid to be stupid!" I told her. If she wanted to fight, I
was ready.

Maya dropped the skirt to the bed. "That house is too creepy," she said.

She was right about that. Mr. Benson lives in this big, old wreck, very
dark and totally falling apart. The house is on the edge of Raven's Ravine.

"You know Mom and Dad said you're not allowed to go near the ravine,"
Maya sneered.

I repeated those words, mimicking her whiny voice.

She stuck her tongue out at me.

"Bet I could jump the ravine," I bragged.

She gasped. "You're not going to try it - are you?"

I grinned. "Maybe."

Actually, I had no plans to try to jump Raven's Ravine.

22 It was a steep drop, right behind Mr. Benson's house. A rock cliff,
like a deep crack in the earth - about ten feet across to the other side.

It's really dangerous. But lots of kids have jumped the ravine on dares.

If you miss, you fall straight down onto the jagged rocks below.

"Don't look for trouble," Maya warned.

"Thanks, Mom!" I snapped. "Don't tell me what to do - okay?"

She frowned at me. "If you go to Mr. Benson's house, you'll get caught,
Brandon."

"No way," I protested. "Cal and I - we're too fast and too cool."

If only I had listened to her ...

23 Cal called me after dinner on Halloween night. "We're going headless,
right?"

"Right," I replied.

"So I don't need a costume, right?"

"Right. You can use one of my masks to put on your shoulders."

"We're not going to trick-or-treat. We're just going to scare kids, right?"

"Right," I repeated. "And we're going to trash Mr. Benson's house."

"Cool," Cal said.

"So hurry over, okay? It's already dark out. Time to get moving."

I grabbed two ugly rubber monster masks from my collection, and hurried
downstairs.

A horrible surprise awaited me in the front hall.

24 A kid in a shiny black Darth Vader costume stepped through the
doorway. At first, I thought it was just a trick-or-treater.

But then, through his heavy plastic mask, he said, "Hey, Brandon." And I
knew it was Vinnie.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

Mom walked into the front hall. "Doesn't Vinnie look scary?" she asked.
She patted him on top of his plastic head.

"What is he doing here?" I repeated.

"You're taking him trick-or-treating," Mom replied.

I let out a groan.

"And you're taking Maya and her three friends too," Mom announced.

"Excuse me?" I cried. "I'm what?"

"You're being a good big brother," Mom replied.

"No way!" I protested. "No way!"

Maya and her three friends came bouncing into the hall. One of them was
Ariel the Mermaid. Maya and the other two were all princesses. Yuck.

Maya was pulling on her cardboard tiara. The other two princesses were
pushing down their crepe skirts and adjusting their glittery masks. The
mermaid was tugging at her fin.

"Let's go," Maya said.

"NO WAY!" I screamed.

Mom narrowed her eyes at me. "I expect you to be a good sport about
this, Brandon."

25 Before I could reply, Cal stuck his head in the front door. "What's
up?" he asked.

"You and Brandon are doing a good deed," Mom answered. "You're taking
these kids trick-or-treating."

Cal nearly swallowed his tongue. "We are?" he cried.

"Let's go!" Vinnie whined. "It's hot inside this mask. I'm sweating!"

Mom stood over me, arms crossed, staring me down. I could see that I had
no choice. "No problem," I whispered to Cal. "We'll dump them as fast as
we can."

"Okay, okay. Let's go, you guys," I declared. I led the way out the
front door.

"Take good care of them," Mom called after me. "And don't let Vinnie get
scared."

"Yeah. Sure," I muttered.

I led them across the front lawn toward the neighbors' house. It was a
clear, cool night. Wispy clouds wriggled across the full moon like snakes.

The perfect night for scaring kids. But I was stuck with these babies.

The girls were giggling excitedly and talking nonstop. Vinnie held his
heavy mask in place with both hands and trotted to keep up.

I could see small groups of trick-or-treaters all the way down the
block. Cal and I guided Vinnie and the girls to three or four houses and
watched from the driveway as they received their candy.

26 "This isn't any fun," Cal grumbled.

"Let's ditch the geeks," I whispered.

His eyes grew wide. "Huh? Just leave them?"

"Sure. Why not?" I replied.

"But they're only seven!" Cal protested.

"They'll be fine," I told him. "What could happen? They won't even
notice we're gone."

Maya and her friends stood in front of an empty lot, talking to another
group of girls. I didn't see Vinnie.

"Come on - run!" I ordered Cal.

The two of us took off across the street. The girls didn't even see us.
We turned the corner and kept running.

After about half a block, I heard footsteps behind us. And Vinnie's
whiny voice: "Hey, wait up! Wait up!"

He came running up to us, breathing hard under the mask. Breathing like
the real Darth Vader.

"I couldn't see you!" he cried. "It's hard to see in this mask." He
started scratching his shoulders, then struggled to scratch his back.
"This costume is so itchy. And it's boiling in here!"

"Maybe you should have been Princess Leia," I joked.

Vinnie turned his black plastic head from side to side. "Where are the
girls?" he asked.

"Uh ... they decided to go on ahead," I told him.

Cal nodded in agreement. "Maybe you want to catch up to them," he
suggested to Vinnie.

27 "No. I'll stick with you guys," Vinnie replied. "It's kind of scary
out here. It's so dark."

Cal and I both sighed. We started walking again. Crossed a street. Then
another. Vinnie kept running up to the houses, ringing the doorbells,
holding up his Darth Vader trick-or-treat bag for candy.

"He's going to ruin everything," Cal grumbled. "We haven't been able to
scare one kid."

"We'll dump him too," I replied. "I have a plan."

"But he's such a wimp," Cal said, shaking his head. "When he sees we're
gone, he'll probably start to cry."

"No problem. Someone will feel sorry for him and take him home," I replied.

"But what will your mom say?" Cal asked.

I shrugged. "I'll tell her Vinnie ran off. I'll tell her we spent the
whole night searching for him."

"Cool," Cal replied.

We led Vinnie to the haunted house at the dead end. It was old and
creepy and surrounded by thick woods.

"We're not going to lock him in, are we?" Cal whispered.

"No. We'll just ditch him here," I whispered back. I turned to the
mighty Darth Vader. "Go try this place," I said. I gave him a push into
the weed-choked driveway.

The broken-down old house had no lights. I could barely see Vinnie step
onto the front porch.

28 Cal and I took off, running as fast as we could.

We had only gone a few steps when we heard a frightening scream.

Vinnie!

Cal and I stopped. And listened.

We both gasped as we heard another shrill scream. Cut off in the middle.

And then ... silence.

29 I laughed. "I guess poor old Vinnie met the ghost!" I exclaimed.

Cal glanced behind us toward the old house. "Shouldn't we go back and
see if he's okay?"

"No way!" I cried. "He's fine. He just likes to scream. Besides, if
something bad happened, it's too late anyway."

"But your mom - " Cal started.

"Forget about it," I replied. "Now that we ditched the losers, it's
finally time for some fun."

I pulled the two rubber masks from my coat pocket and handed one to Cal.
We both tugged our coats up over our heads and zipped them all the way.
Then we propped the ugly masks on our shoulders.

"Headless Halloween!" I cried. "Come on. Let's find some victims!"

30 The block next to the middle school was crawling with
trick-or-treaters. Cal and I waited behind a tall hedge.

When some kids came by, we jumped out in front of them and took off our
masks.

"Headless Halloween!" Cal and I growled.

The kids screamed like crazy.

We made our way down the block, terrifying kids right and left. Without
even trying, I made two little boys burst into tears.

A few minutes after that triumph, Cal and I jumped out into the street
and made another boy fall off his bike.

Ha ha!

"I'm getting hungry," Cal said, his voice muffled under his coat.

"No problem," I replied.

I grabbed a full trick-or-treat bag from a kid wrapped from head to foot
in mummy bandages. I knew that a mummy wouldn't be able to run after us
very fast.

Cal and I took off across the street.

The kid was shrieking his head off. "Come back! That's mine! That's mine!"

I tossed him a Snickers bar. It bounced off his chest and into the street.

Then we ran until the little wimp was out of sight.

Cal and I hid behind someone's house. We dumped all the candy on the
ground. Then we

31 ripped open about a dozen candy bars and shoved them into our mouths.

Man, I love Halloween!

We heard the mummy boy crying his eyes out on the street. We pressed
ourselves against the wall of the house and hid until the kid was gone.

Cal grinned. "Poor guy," he said. Cal had chocolate smeared all over his
chin.

We stuffed ourselves with candy. I opened a bag of M&Ms, tilted it to my
mouth, and poured them all down my throat.

Yum.

"Let's go," I said, burping up chocolate. "We've got to get to Mr.
Benson's house - remember?"

"Are we just going to leave all this candy on the ground?" Cal asked,
still chewing.

"No. Bring it with us," I replied. "We might get hungry while we're
trashing Mountain's house."

"Cool," Cal said, swallowing a mouthful of Tootsie Rolls. He shoved a
load of candy bars back into the bag.

Then we tucked our heads under our coats and walked headless up the hill
toward Mr. Benson's house.

The moon had disappeared behind heavy black clouds. The houses ended as
we neared Raven's Ravine, and the street grew very dark.

"Are we really going to trash Mountain's house?" Cal asked timidly.

32 "Sure," I replied, burping again. I didn't feel too well. Maybe I ate
that candy too fast.

"Cool," Cal said. "But what if he's home?"

"We'll see," I murmured.

A few minutes later, Mr. Benson's house rose up over us. It stood in
total darkness at the top of a steep hill. It reminded me of an evil
castle, all stone, with tiny windows and a tall, round tower at one end.

I squinted past the house toward the ravine. Too dark to see anything
back there.

"The house is dark," I said. "Maybe he went out."

"Maybe he just went to bed," Cal suggested.

We took a few steps up the front lawn. Then we both gasped as a side
door swung open.

I ducked behind a tall evergreen shrub and pulled Cal beside me. Peering
around the shrub, I saw Mr. Benson lumber out into the driveway. He
tilted his head back, checking out the sky.

Then he disappeared into the stone garage to the right of the house. Cal
and I ducked low behind the evergreen. A few seconds later, we heard a
car engine start up. The teacher's black minivan backed down the drive
and sped away.

I chuckled. "He needs a van. He doesn't fit in a car!"

Cal snickered too, his eyes on the old house. "Are we going in?"

33 "Why not?" I replied. "It's Halloween, isn't it? Time for a little
Halloween mischief."

We stepped out from behind the shrub. Took two or three steps up the
sloping lawn toward the house.

And stopped when we heard the angry growls.

"Dogs?" I choked out.

Yes.

Before Cal and I could move, two enormous, red-eyed dogs came charging
at us, snarling furiously, heads lowered in attack.

34 I let out a scream. Spun around. I tried to run - but I froze in fright.

Galloping hard, the dogs snarled in rage.

"We're ... doomed," I muttered. I raised both hands to protect my face.

And heard a squeal. Two squeals. And a groan.

Lowering my hands, I gaped in surprise. The two attack dogs had stopped.
They shook themselves, legs wobbling, dazed.

"They're tied up!" Cal cried, pointing. "See? They reached the end of
their chains!"

My heart was pounding so hard, I could barely breathe. My stomach
churned. I kept tasting chocolate.

I stared up the hill at the dogs.

35 They snarled down at us. But their hearts weren't in it. They knew
they couldn't reach us. They knew they were defeated.

Cal and I burst out laughing. We slapped each other a few high fives.
Then we made a big circle around the dogs and stepped up to the side
door of the house.

Had Mr. Benson left it unlocked?

Yes.

The door creaked as I pushed it open. I led the way into the house.

"This is so cool," Cal whispered. "We are actually inside Mr. Benson's
house!"

I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. We stood in a long,
narrow pantry. It smelled like pepper.

Walking slowly, carefully, we made our way into the kitchen.

Wind rustled the white curtains at the open window. Water dripped -
PLINK ... PLINK ... - in the kitchen sink.

My stomach lurched, as if a wave crashed against the shore inside me. "I
... I don't feel so well," I murmured.

I don't think Cal heard me. He had opened the refrigerator and was
peering inside. "Wow! Mr. Benson drinks a lot of beer!" he exclaimed. "I
guess that explains why he's so big!"

Laughing, Cal turned to me. I caught his

36 excited expression in the light from the open refrigerator. "What are
we going to do?" he asked. "Want to take all the food out of the fridge
and throw it all over the house?"

I opened my mouth to answer. But my stomach heaved again.

"I feel sick. I - I'm going to hurl," I moaned.

I clapped my hand over my mouth.

Got to get to a bathroom, I told myself. Hurry. Get to a bathroom.

I started to the doorway. But then I had a better idea.

I turned and staggered to the kitchen table. Gripping the back of a
chair, I leaned over - and threw up all over the checkered tablecloth.

I heaved up a lot. My whole dinner and all the candy I'd gobbled.

"Oooh, gross! Gross!" Cal groaned from across the kitchen.

When I finally finished, the kitchen table was practically covered. I
had a sour taste in my mouth. But I felt a lot better.

I wiped my mouth with a corner of the tablecloth and stepped back.

Cal had a finger and thumb pressed over his nose. "You finished?" he asked.

I nodded weakly.

"Cool," he said. "I guess we don't have to do anything else."

I swallowed a couple of times, trying to get rid

37 of the bitter taste. "Huh? What do you mean?" I asked. My voice came
out hoarse and scratchy.

"You left Mr. Benson a nice Halloween surprise," Cal replied, chuckling.
"You redecorated his kitchen for him. I guess we can go now." He started
to the side door.

"Whoa. Wait," I said, pulling him back. "Let's at least turn some
furniture upside down or something."

Cal hesitated. "Yeah. Okay. That's cool."

"Let's turn the living room couch upside down," I suggested.

"And his TV set," Cal added.

"Awesome!" I was starting to feel a lot better.

But it didn't last.

We were in the hall nearly to the living room when I heard a door slam
open.

"We're caught!" I gasped.

38 I heard a heavy THUD from the front.

"Quick!" I whispered. I grabbed Cal's sleeve and tugged him back through
the hall.

"If he sees us, we're history!" Cal whispered, his eyes wide with fear.

We stumbled into the kitchen.

Behind us, I heard heavy breathing. The scrape of metal against the floor.

Metal?

Chains?

I jumped at the sound of a shrill bark.

"The dogs!" I cried.

I spun around in time to see the two attack dogs burst into the kitchen.
Their chains scraped the floor behind them.

They both barked furiously now, lowering their heads menacingly, their
eyes glowing red.

39 "They broke loose!" I cried.

My last words before both dogs leaped.

I ducked away. Then spun in panic.

Dove blindly for the open kitchen window - and shot headfirst ... out
... out into the cold night.

Gasping in deep breaths of fresh air, my chest heaving, I ran on
trembling legs. I could hear the angry growls and cries of the dogs
behind me from the kitchen.

Halfway across the backyard, halfway to the dark ravine up ahead, I
turned back.

And saw Cal's head out the window. One arm stuck out. Flailing wildly.

"Hurry!" I cried.

But then I realized the big guy was stuck. Stuck in the narrow window.

"Help me!" His desperate shout was nearly drowned out by the fierce
snarls of the attack dogs.

"Brandon - help!"

I took a step back toward the house - but stopped.

How could I help? What could I do for Cal now?

Run for it, Brandon, a voice inside my head urged.

You can't save Cal. Save yourself.

"Brandon - please!" Cal wailed. And then he let out a horrifying scream.

I swallowed hard. The dogs are chewing him to pieces, I realized.

40 And then I saw one of the dogs come running around the side of the
house. Barking ferociously, it galloped across the yard toward me.

"Ohhh." I uttered a terrified moan. And spun away from the house - so
hard I nearly fell.

And took off.

Running ... running toward Raven's Ravine.

Panting, my heart thudding, I reached the edge of the ravine. The deep
black hole opened in front of me.

I glanced back.

The barking dog was charging furiously, eyes blazing, teeth bared, its
head lowered to the attack.

Only one way to escape. Jump the ravine!

I had only seconds.

I could see the other side of the ravine, only about ten feet away. And
beneath me, a steep, steep drop - and then jagged, black rocks.

Could I jump it without a running start?

I had to try.

I glanced back to see the dog tilt back on its haunches. It uttered a
howl as it prepared to attack.

I forced myself forward ... bent my knees ...

Tensed my leg muscles ...

And jumped.

"Nooooo!" A terrified scream burst from my throat.

I missed.

42 Not far enough.

Not far enough ...

My hands clawed the air. Nothing but air.

And then I was falling ... falling so fast ... Falling to my death.

41

10

I landed hard. Pain shot through my body. I shut my eyes, trying to
squeeze away the pain.

When I opened my eyes, I gazed into heavy darkness. "Where am I?" I
murmured, feeling dazed.

I couldn't see. Couldn't see a thing.

And then I realized my hands were clinging to the side of the ravine. My
fingers dug into the dirt.

I made it.

Yes. I made it to the other side.

"Cal?" I murmured, still feeling dazed.

Did he make it out? Did he jump too?

"Ohhhhh," I moaned as the cold dirt crumbled. My fingers slid out.

43 I started to slide down the steep side of the ravine.

With a furious cry, I grasped the dirt. Dug my fingers in. Pulled myself
up, my legs kicking and churning, my shoes scraping the side.

When I made it to the top, I dropped onto my stomach, arms outstretched
on the cool dirt, hugging the ground.

It took a long time to catch my breath.

And then I pulled myself to my feet. And walked on trembling legs back
to the edge of the ravine.

"Cal?" I called, cupping my hands around my mouth. "Cal? Are you there?"

I couldn't see him. Couldn't see the dog, either. Or the house beyond
the backyard.

Too dark, I realized.

I brushed myself off and glanced around. I was beginning to feel a
little more normal.

How do I get home from over here? I wondered. I realized I'd never been
on this side of the ravine.

I turned and found myself facing a dark woods. Tall black trees rose up
to the purple sky. The trees tilted in on each other, forming a fence.

Walking quickly, whistling to myself, I began following a twisting path
through the woods.

I'm sure there are neighborhoods on the other side of the woods, I told
myself. It's still pretty early. Probably lots of trick-or-treaters out.

44 The air grew colder as I stepped out of the woods. Zipping my coat up
to my chin, I gazed around. I found myself on a narrow street with
small, dark houses, very close together, on both sides.

No one on the street. No cars moving.

Where are the trick-or-treaters? I wondered.

I was starting to feel hungry. I'll scare the first kid I find and take
his candy, I decided.

I pulled the rubber mask from my coat pocket and tugged it down over my
head.

Now I just have to find someone to scare, I told myself. Where is everyone?

I walked along the sidewalk, peering over low bushes and hedges into
dark front yards. I stopped at the first corner and squinted up at the
street sign:

FIRST STREET.

"Never heard of it," I muttered.

The houses on the next block were even smaller, and very close together.
Dim circles of yellow light from the street lamps made my shadow stretch
across the sidewalk. I couldn't see any other lights.

Still no people. No cars.

No dogs barking. No babies crying.

Nothing moved.

I whistled louder and scraped my shoes on the pavement, just to make a
sound.

45 "Weird neighborhood," I muttered. The next street sign read:

SECOND STREET.

I glanced around, trying to figure out in what direction I was heading.
I knew I had to walk around the ravine and then back the way I'd come.

But which way was that?

Which way?

Peering into the darkness, I could no longer see the tall trees of the
woods.

I'll try Second Street, I decided. I'll follow it until I come to some
people. And then I'll ask directions.

Someone will know how I can get across the ravine and back to my
neighborhood.

But Second Street was as empty and silent as the other street.

I tried humming a song, humming really loud, just to keep myself from
totally losing it.

No wonder no one ever comes to this side of the ravine, I told myself.
Everyone on this side must go to bed at eight o'clock!

And then I saw someone.

Down the street, about half a block away. Moving toward me on the sidewalk.

"Hey!" I called. "Hi!"

No reply.

I stopped walking and squinted into the dim yellow light. Was it a boy?

47 "Hi - I'm lost!" I called. "Can you help me?" I took a few steps
toward him. He kept walking, steadily, arms down at his sides.

And as he stepped under a street lamp, I saw him clearly.

And gasped in shock.

46

11

The kid wore a mask. The same ugly monster mask I had on.

Where did he get it? I wondered. I thought I had the only one like it.

He walked up to me, staring at me through the eye holes. He was about my
height. Beneath the mask, he wore a faded denim jacket and baggy black
jeans.

"Where did you get that mask?" I demanded.

He shrugged. "I don't remember."

"But it's the same as mine!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah." He stared at me, as if trying to recognize me.

"I - I'm lost," I stammered. "Where am I? I don't know this neighborhood."

"Well, how did you get here?" he asked.

48 "I ... jumped the ravine," I told him. I laughed, a tense laugh. "A
dog was chasing me. Do you believe it? So I jumped the ravine."

"Wow. That's really dangerous," he replied softly, his voice muffled
behind the ugly mask.

"I guess," I murmured.

"Did you hear about the boy who tried to jump it and missed? He was
crushed to death on the rocks."

"Yuck," I replied, feeling a chill. "I was lucky. I just made it to the
other side."

"Yeah. Lucky," he repeated, still staring at me.

"You got any candy or anything?" I asked. "I'm really hungry."

He shook his head. "I didn't trick-or-treat. I'm going to a Halloween
party. Over there." He pointed to a long, ranch-style house on the corner.

"How come it's so quiet over here?" I asked. "Where is everybody?"

"It's a quiet neighborhood," he replied. "Not many kids."

"And it's so dark," I added.

He snickered. "You're not afraid of the dark, are you?"

"No way," I replied quickly. "But I don't like being lost. Which
direction is Main Street?"

"Over there, I think." He motioned with his head. "Want to come to the
party?"

"A Halloween party?" I glanced at the house on

50 the corner. "How old are you? Halloween parties are kind of geeky,
aren't they?"

"This one won't be," he replied softly. He turned and started walking
toward the house.

I hurried after him. "Will there be food?"

"Yeah. Food. It's a party."

I trotted beside him. I thought we must look strange, both of us wearing
the same creature mask. "What's your name?" I asked.

"Norband," he replied.

"Weird name," I muttered.

"Everyone calls me Norb," he said, walking faster.

"I'm Brandon," I said.

He stopped at the front steps and turned to me. "So are you coming to
the party?"

"I guess," I replied. "For a little while. Then will you tell me how to
get home?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he pushed open the front door and stepped into
the house.

I followed him in. "Hey - it's totally dark in here!" I cried. "What's
going on?"

49

12

Norb turned and stared at me through the mask "What's your problem,
Brandon?" he asked. "The party is downstairs, in the basement."

I felt like a jerk. As we moved through the house, I could hear music
and voices from downstairs. Norb opened a door to the basement stairs,
and the noise exploded over us.

"That better?" he asked.

"Yeah. Great," I replied. "Is this your house?"

Again, he didn't answer my question. He started down the steep stairs,
taking them two at a time, motioning for me to follow.

As I made my way down, I saw bright, flashing lights, shadows dancing
over the wall. And I heard kids laughing and talking, shouting over the
steady boom of loud dance music.

51 At the bottom, I found myself in a large room, decorated for
Halloween, with grinning, cardboard jack-o'-lanterns on the walls and
orange and black crepe streamers hanging from the low ceiling.

The room was crowded with kids, at least thirty or forty boys and girls,
all in masks and costumes. Some girls were dancing in the center of the
room. Several boys watched, talking among themselves. Other kids
clustered in small groups, talking and laughing. A couple of kids were
wrapping themselves in orange crepe paper streamers.

"This is Brandon," Norb announced to a tall, skinny kid in a skeleton
costume.

The skeleton nodded. "I'm Max."

"Brandon is hungry," Norb told him. Then he turned and started talking
to two girls in witch costumes.

"The refreshment table is over here," Max said. He guided me past the
dancing kids to a long table with an orange tablecloth. I saw piles of
cookies and doughnuts, bowls of potato chips, and two half-eaten pumpkin
pies.

"Give Brandon a doughnut," Norb instructed, suddenly appearing at the
table.

"You like doughnuts?" Max asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. Sure. I'm suddenly starving."

He picked a doughnut off the top of the pile and handed it to me. He
gazed through his skeleton mask, studying me. "These are special," he said.

52 "Thanks. Looks great," I said. I pulled off my mask.

Norb and Max crowded next to me as I raised the doughnut to my mouth. It
was soft and doughy and covered with powdered sugar. My favorite.

I took a big bite. Chewed. Started to swallow.

And then groaned.

I felt something wet and warm on my tongue.

I raised the doughnut to examine it.

"Ohhhh." What was wriggling inside the doughnut?

Brown-and-purple worms!

I spit the wormy gob out.

Worms poked out from the doughnut. One crawled onto my hand.

With a cry of disgust, I started to toss the doughnut down.

But Norb grabbed my arm. He forced the doughnut to my face.

"Eat it, Brandon," he ordered. "Go on. Eat the whole thing."

53 I struggled to pull my arm free.

But Max moved quickly to help Norb. The two of them held me in place -
and shoved the disgusting doughnut into my face.

They forced the doughnut into my mouth.

I felt worms wriggle over my tongue and tickle the roof of my mouth.

I started to choke. But they pushed the doughnut in even farther.

"Chew! Chew it!" Norb ordered.

I had no choice. I didn't want to choke to death on a mouthful of worms.
So I started to chew.

The sick, sour taste made me choke again.

My eyes were watering. I felt sweat roll down my forehead.

54 I shut my eyes and tried to pretend I was eating something else.
Mashed potatoes.

But mashed potatoes don't squirm in your mouth!

I held my breath and swallowed. A thick chunk of worms slid down my throat.

Finally, I ate the whole thing.

Norb and his friend let go.

I staggered back against the food table, my chest heaving, my whole body
shaking. The sour worm taste lingered in my mouth.

"Why?" I gasped. "Why did you do that?"

They both laughed behind their masks. "It's Halloween, isn't it?" Norb
asked. He slapped Max a high five.

"Don't you like to do scary things on Halloween?" Max teased.

"That wasn't scary. That was sick," I grumbled angrily. "Bye. Thanks for
nothing. I'm out of here."

I pushed past them and started toward the steps. But they grabbed me by
the shoulders and pulled me back.

"You just got here," Norb said. His eyes flashed menacingly behind the
mask.

"The party hasn't started yet," Max chimed in.

"Let go," I insisted. "Your party stinks."

But they squeezed my arms in a tighter grip.

"Hey, everyone," Norb shouted. "Hey, listen up! Brandon is going to bob
for apples now!"

55 "I am not!" I protested. I squirmed and tugged. But they were
stronger than me.

"Hey, everyone!" Norb shouted over the voices and the music. "Come
watch. He's going to bob for apples!"

The two guys dragged me over to a big wooden barrel. I peered down. The
barrel was filled with murky water, too dark to see anything.

Four or five kids came over to watch.

"Let go of me!" I shouted angrily. "I'm not dipping my head in there!
There aren't even any apples in there!"

"Sure there are," Max replied. "Plenty of apples."

Norb grabbed the back of my neck and shoved my head down to the barrel.
"Everyone bobs for apples at a Halloween party," he said softly.

"What are you trying to prove?" I cried. "Get away from me! Are you
crazy? Let me go!"

I stared down at the dark water. "I don't see any apples!"

"Look closer," Norb replied.

They held me and pushed my head lower. My nose and cheeks splashed into
the disgusting water.

Sputtering, I forced my head up. "Why are you doing this?" I gasped.

"It's a Halloween party," Norb insisted.

"Go ahead, Brandon," Max urged. "Grab an apple in your teeth, and you're
finished."

56 "I just want to get out - " I started.

But they shoved my head into the barrel again.

They're sick, I told myself. They're totally messed up.

I'll grab an apple. Then I'm out of here.

I opened my eyes. But I couldn't see anything in the thick, murky water.

Something prickled my face. I felt something soft and wet crawl into my ear.

Sputtering, I tried to pull my head out. But Max and Norb held me down,
pushing me deeper into the barrel.

I felt something scrape against my cheek. The back of my neck tingled as
tiny creatures crawled over it. My whole face prickled.

With a surge of power, I forced my head up. I stared into the barrel.

The dark water churned and rolled. Alive!

The water was alive!

No. Not water ... Not water ...

I stared into a tossing, churning pile of cockroaches.

Before I could sputter a protest, they pushed my head back into the pile.

I gasped in horror as cockroaches scrabbled over my face, dug into my
hair, climbed into my nose and ears.

I struggled to pull away. But the boys held my arms down as they pressed
me into the barrel.

57 I opened my mouth to scream - and felt cockroaches slide into my
mouth, crawl over my tongue.

I - I swallowed them!

"That doesn't count. Grab one!" I heard Norb urge behind me. "Bite it!
Bite it!"

"Grab one! Get one!" Max shouted.

I heard kids cheering and laughing.

My stomach lurched. I'm going to be sick, I realized.

Cockroaches swarmed over my face, my hair.

"Grab one! Grab one!" kids chanted.

I can't take this, I realized. I can't take this anymore.

I've got to end it. Got to stop it ...

No choice. I don't have a choice.

I shut my eyes and opened my mouth wide.

And grabbed a bunch of cockroaches between my teeth.

58 I chomped down and raised my head. I could feel the sticky insects
between my teeth, on my tongue.

With a groan, I opened my mouth and began to spit. I spit the
cockroaches back into the barrel. I kept spitting after they were all
out of my mouth, trying to get rid of the sour taste, the horrible tickling.

Kids laughed and clapped. Norb slapped me hard on the back. "Scary
enough for you, Brandon?" he demanded. His eyes flashed gleefully behind
his mask.

"Let's get scary!" someone called out. And the others began to chant:
"Let's get scary! Let's get scary!"

This is a nightmare I thought.

59 This can't be happening to me. These kids are evil!

"Can I go now?" I asked Norb. My voice trembled. I pulled cockroach legs
off my tongue.

He didn't answer, so I tried again. "I'm out of here," I said. "You
can't keep me here."

"Sure, we can," Norb replied. He motioned with both hands, and several
costumed kids circled me.

"Let's get scary," they chanted. "Let's get scary!"

Norb squeezed my shoulder until I cried out. "Let's play a game," he
said. "Everyone plays games at a party - right, Brandon?"

"I want to go," I said through gritted teeth. "You can't keep me here.
It's ... kidnapping."

For some reason, that got a big laugh from everyone.

"I mean it!" I screamed. "Let me out of here!"

"How about Twister?" Norb demanded, ignoring my pleas. "You like to play
Twister?"

"No!" I replied angrily. "No games. I want out!"

Norb dug his fingers into my shoulder. "Okay. Twister," he said softly.
He pulled me into the center of the room. "Are you having fun, Brandon?
Is it scary enough for you?"

I tugged hard. Tried to break free.

But his hand clamped down on my shoulder, sending pain shooting through
my whole body. He

60 gave me a hard shove - and I stumbled forward to the edge of a
Twister mat on the floor.

"You go first," he ordered.

"I won't play!" I crushed my arms in front of my chest. "No way."

Kids surrounded me. Norb's dark eyes glared at me through the eyeholes
of his mask. "You'd better enjoy this part, Brandon," he said softly.
"This is the fun part. After this, it gets really scary."

"Huh? Why?" I cried. "What do you mean?"

He didn't reply.

"What comes next?" I demanded. "What are you going to do to me?"

61 A few seconds later, I was down on my hands and knees on the mat. A
boy in a vampire costume was draped over my back, also on his hands and
knees.

Who are these kids? I wondered, my heart pounding.

Why are they doing this to me?

Is this just their idea of Halloween fun? Or are they really evil?

The boy in the vampire costume shifted his weight on top of me.

All around me, kids were chanting: "Let's get scary! Let's get scary!"
Their voices echoed off the basement walls, ringing louder and louder in
my ears.

"Let's get scary! Let's get scary!"

I shivered.

62 Were they going to let me go? Or did they plan to torture me all night?

I didn't have long to think about it.

A girl in a monkey costume plopped down onto the mat beside me and
wrapped an arm around my arm.

"I don't want to play," I groaned. "Get off! Get off me!"

I felt another arm twist around my legs.

The boy on my back began to feel heavier. An arm twisted around my other
arm.

"I hate this game!" I shrieked. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The vampire boy suddenly felt lighter. Was he getting up?

I heard a loud HISSSSS, close to my ear.

Turning my head, I saw the arm tangled around my arm ... saw it begin to
change ... to grow slimmer ... to curl itself tighter around me ...

Another HISSSSS. So close. So close.

And then the SNAP of jaws.

Something coiled around my waist. And tightened ... tightened.

Snakes.

The kids were shrinking ... changing ... changing into snakes.

They curled around me. Around my chest, my arms, my legs.

"Noooooo!" A moan of horror escaped my throat.

63 A loud SNAP at my ear made me gasp. Scratchy, warm skin slid around
my neck.

And now they were all hissing. Tightening themselves around my neck.
Hissing. Snapping.

I'm ... suffocating, I realized.

Can't breathe ... Can't breathe.

I dropped facedown, flat against the mat. With a desperate lunge, I
rolled onto my back.

I tossed one arm - and flung one snake off.

Then I reached up. Grabbed the snake around my neck - and pulled it off.

It twisted in my hand. Shot its head forward. Snapped its jaws close to
my face, so close I felt its hot breath on my cheek.

With a wild heave, I sent it flying into the crowd of chanting kids.

Then, pulling another snake from around an ankle, I jumped to my feet.

The room spun. I blinked several times, struggling to steady myself.

The kids stood in a circle around me, chanting, their voices muffled and
strange behind their masks. Clapping their hands in a slow, steady
rhythm. Repeating their frightening words over and over.

"Let's get scary ... Let's get scary!"

I've got to get away from here, I told myself.

I have to escape. While I still can.

But how?

I glanced frantically around the room. The

64 orange and black streamers shimmered, twisting down from the ceiling
like snakes.

And beyond them ... Beyond them, I saw the basement stairs. And the door
at the top of the stairs.

Open.

The door stood open.

Could I make a run for it? Could I reach the door and run out of this
house, away from these weird, chanting kids?

I knew I had to try.

I took a step. Then another.

And then Norb's hand grasped my shoulder again. His eyes peered into
mine. "Are you ready for a real Halloween trick?" he asked. "I'm going
to make you disappear."

65 "Noooo!" I let out an angry shriek. Then I grabbed Norb's wrist with
both hands - and swung his hand off my shoulder.

Behind the ugly mask, his eyes bulged in surprise.

I didn't give him a chance to grab me again. I spun away and dove into
the crowd of kids. Lowering my head like a fullback, I bulled right
through them.

The chanting stopped. Startled cries rang out.

My head down, I ran without looking back. Ran through the forest of
streamers. Ran to the stairs, my eyes on the open door.

"Owwww!"

I stumbled at the bottom step. Banged my knee. Pain shot up my body.

66 But I grabbed the banister and pulled myself up.

Up the stairs, trying to ignore my throbbing knee. Up the stairs. The
open door so close now.

"Yes!" I uttered a happy cry as I reached the top and burst through the
doorway. I could hear the cries and shouts below, distant now.

I glanced down for a second. They weren't chasing after me.

Breathing a long sigh, I spun away and plunged through the dark house.
Out the front door and down the front lawn to the street.

My shoes slid on the dew-covered grass.

I ran through total darkness. No moon. No stars. No street lamps or
lights from any houses.

Black trees swayed silently against a charcoal sky.

Nothing else moved. No cars rolled by. No one else out on the street.

I crossed a street and kept running. I had no idea what direction I was
headed. I had to get away, as far away from that house and those kids as
I could.

I ran till a sharp pain in my side slowed me to a trot.

The houses ended, and I found myself moving between heavily wooded lots.
As I followed the curve of the road, pale light washed over the ground,
over the sidewalk, over me.

I gazed up to see the moon slide out from behind

67 the clouds. The silvery moonlight made the tall trees shimmer, unreal
and ghostlike.

My shoes thudded the pavement. I was breathing hard as I jogged, my
heart pounding, my side still aching.

Where was everyone?

How could I be the only person out on Halloween night in this neighborhood?

I stopped when I saw something move in the grass of an empty lot. I
narrowed my eyes, struggling to see clearly.

A dog? A rabbit standing tall among the weeds?

I took a step closer.

Something poked up from the grass, moving slowly, waving like a small
tree, reaching toward the sky.

Something ...

"Oh, no!" I moaned. "Oh, nooooo!"

68 A hand.

A human hand.

I swallowed hard, staring in disbelief. Beside it, another hand poked up
from beneath the ground. It shook itself, shaking dirt off.

Both hands reached up, making grasping motions, curling and uncurling
fingers.

Frozen in silence, I squinted into the eerie, pale light. And watched
more hands pop up from beneath the ground.

They shook off dirt and stretched. Bony arms stretched up from the
grass. The hands opened and closed. The fingers curled and made grabbing
motions.

A dozen hands poked up. Now a dozen more, shimmering yellow and green in
the moonlight.

69 Hands reaching up from the ground. Grabbing, grabbing at air. Pushing
the dirt aside ... stretching ... stretching ...

And then heads. Human heads. Hair caked with dirt. Skin loose, hanging
from their skulls.

Head after head poked up from the dirt.

They stared at me with pleading eyes, faces twisted, mouths hanging open
as if in pain.

"Take me with you," one of them called in a dry whisper.

"No. Take me!" another croaked.

"Take me with you. Take me with you." The chant went up.

And they reached for me - all of them - reaching from under the dirt,
hands curling and uncurling, eyes, vacant sunken eyes, pleading, pleading.

"Take me with you."

How can this be happening? How can dead people poke up from the dirt?
Were they really dead? What was going on here? I wondered.

I shut my eyes. Forced myself to spin away from the ugly, frightening
sight.

And then, with a lurching start, I ran. Ran full speed, leaning forward,
my arms outstretched.

My legs felt wobbly and weak. My throat tightened until my breath
escaped in wheezing gasps.

But I ran, ran blindly, ran without slowing. Followed the curving path
through the trees.

70 And then stopped with a cry as the trees ended.

As the ground ended.

And I stared at a deep gash in the ground. A break. A split in the earth.

The ravine?

Yes!

I had found it. I had returned to it.

Raven's Ravine stretched darkly in front of me.

"Oh, thank goodness," I sighed.

I bent forward, lowering my hands to my knees. And waited to catch my
breath. Waited for my head to stop spinning, for my temples to stop
throbbing.

I stood there hunched over for a minute, maybe two. Breathing ...
breathing ... and staring at the narrow ravine.

I jumped it once, I told myself. I can jump it again.

And then I'll be home. Then I'll be away from this empty, frightening place.

Finally starting to feel normal, I stood up straight. And stepped to the
edge of the ravine.

"No problem," I murmured. "I can jump this easily."

I lowered my gaze down the side of the steep cliff to the dark rocks below.

And cried out when I saw a body. A boy - sprawled at the bottom. Lying
on his stomach. Arms and feet spread over the rocks as if hugging them.

71 Cal?

Cal?

My whole body trembling, I dropped to my knees. Leaned over the side to
see better.

Cal?

Cal must have followed me out of Mr. Benson's house. He must have tried
to jump the ravine too.

And missed. Missed.

And now my friend - my best friend - lay there, crushed, stretched out
over the rocks, lifeless and unmoving.

"Cal?" I called down to him, my voice hoarse and trembling.

"Cal? Are you alive? Can you hear me?"

No.

"Cal? Can you move? Can you - "

Whoa.

Wait.

I grasped the dirt edge of the ravine and leaned farther over the side.
Leaned until I nearly fell in.

"Cal?"

No.

Not Cal.

Squinting hard, leaning as far as I could, I saw that it wasn't Cal
sprawled on the rocks below.

Not Cal. Not Cal. Not Cal.

It was me.

72 My breath burst from my chest like an explosion.

My whole body lurched from the shock.

And before I could pull back from the edge, I started to fall.

As I toppled forward, strong hands grabbed my shoulders. Someone pulled
me back. Hoisted me back onto solid ground. And flung me - flung me with
incredible strength - onto my back.

Whimpering in shock, my chest heaving up and down, I stared up at Norb.

"Problem?" he asked calmly, eyeing me through the ugly mask.

Over his shoulder, I saw the others appear. Max in his skeleton costume,
the vampire, the girl

73 dressed as a monkey. Still in costume, they stepped out of the woods
and made their way to the ravine's edge.

I forced myself to sit up. "What ..." I choked out. I couldn't finish my
thought.

They all laughed. Norb stood over me, hands on his waist.

I tried again. "What ... happened?"

Norb shook his head. "Brandon, don't you get it?"

"No," I told him. "What is happening? Down there ... " I pointed to the
ravine.

"It's you," he said flatly.

"I know. But - " I swallowed.

"You didn't make it," he said softly.

"Huh?"

"You tried to jump the ravine, and you didn't make it." He hunched down
next to me. "Try to remember."

"I - I can't," I stammered. "I jumped and ... " I thought hard. I
remembered landing hard ... everything going dark.

Was it true?

I didn't make it across the ravine?

"You died," Norb said flatly, with no emotion at all. "Your body died
down there, Brandon. But your spirit made it to the other side."

"The other side," a girl murmured.

"The other side ... The other side ..."

74 "My spirit!" I gasped.

Norb nodded. "You've joined us on the other side."

"No. No way," I murmured weakly. I shook my head. "I don't believe it."

"You're with us now, Brandon," Norb repeated. "You will stay with us on
the other side."

"Forever," the skeleton chimed in.

"Forever," a girl repeated.

"No!" I protested. I grabbed the front of Norb's jacket with both hands.
"No!" I cried. "You've got to let me go. Please - let me go!"

He shook his head. "Can't."

"I promise I'll be good. I'll never scare anyone again! Promise!" I wailed.

They all laughed. Cold, scornful laughter.

"Can't do," Norb said softly.

He brushed my hands away. "You're frightened - aren't you?" he demanded.

"Yes," I confessed. "I'm frightened."

"Now you know what it feels like," he replied. "Now you're on the other
end. You know what it feels like to be really scared."

"I promise I'll never frighten anyone again!" I cried. "Listen to me. I
promise - "

The others burst into laughter once more.

I couldn't resist looking again. My legs trembling, I crawled back to
the ravine's edge - and peered down.

75 Peered down at my own body. Stretched over the rocks. So still. So
horribly still.

"What can I do?" I demanded, turning back to Norb. "There has to be
something I can do to get back."

He stared at me for what seemed like hours. "Maybe ... " he said finally.

"Tell me!" I screamed. "Please - I'm begging you! I can't stay here on
the other side! I have to go back! Tell me what I can do!"

Norb's eyes flashed behind the mask. "There's only one way," he said.

76 What? I scrambled over to him and grabbed his jacket again. "Tell me
what I have to do. I'll do anything!"

"It won't be easy - for you," Norb replied.

"I'll do it," I promised. "Whatever it is."

"You have to help people," he said.

"Huh?" I waited desperately for him to continue.

A gust of cold air swirled around us. A clump of dirt broke off the edge
of the ravine and tumbled to the rocks below.

A picture flashed into my mind. A terrifying picture. I saw myself
falling down to the rocks, falling like a clump of dirt.

"You have to help people who are frightened," Norb continued finally.
"You have to rescue them.

78 Three people. You have to find three frightened people and help them."

I stared at him. "Is that all?"

He nodded. "It won't be easy!" he said again, his voice just above a
whisper.

"I can do it," I vowed. "And after I do it ... ?"

"You can stay on your side," he replied. "You can go back to your life."

"Th-thanks," I stammered. "I - "

"Don't thank me," Norb replied coldly. "If you fail, you won't feel like
thanking me. If you fail, you will never see your family or friends
again. You will stay with us on the other side."

"I won't fail," I told him.

He snickered. "Oh, yeah?" he sneered. "Oh, yeah? We'll see about that."

And then he shot up both arms - and gave me a hard shove over the side
of the ravine.

77

20

I screamed all the way down.

I landed on my side on the sharp, jagged rocks at the bottom of the
ravine. Bounced once. Then lay still.

I shut my eyes and waited for the crushing pain.

But to my surprise, I felt nothing.

I opened my eyes, my heart still pounding in my chest. And stared at the
body sprawled facedown on the rocks beside me.

My body.

I grabbed it by the shoulders and turned it over.

A wave of nausea rolled over me. I couldn't bear to look at myself. I
let go of the body. It fell back onto the rocks with a soft PLOP.

I'm dead, I thought, hugging myself. Struggling to fight down the nausea.

I'm really dead.

79 How can I help people without my body? I wondered.

How can I rescue three frightened people if I'm a ghost?

I need my body, I told myself. If I'm a ghost, I'll terrify people. I
won't be able to help them.

I raised my eyes to the top of the ravine. "Hey!" I called up. "Are you
still there? Norb? Are you up there?"

No reply.

I heard giggling, hushed whispers.

I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted. "I can hear you. I know
you're up there!"

Finally, Norb's masked face appeared over the cliff's edge. "What do you
want, Brandon? Do I have to give you another push to get you started?"

More giggling behind him.

"I need my body!" I cried. "How can I help anyone without my body?"

Norb frowned down at me. "You can have it back for one hour," he announced.

"Only one hour? But - but - " I sputtered.

"Yes. You have only one hour. One hour to save three frightened people."

"And if I can't do it in one hour?" I asked in a trembling voice.

No reply.

Norb vanished from view. Silence up there now.

It didn't matter. I knew the answer to my question.

81 If I didn't rescue three people in one hour, I'd return to the other
side. And stay there ... forever.

But how do I get my body back? I wondered.

"Norb, I need your help," I shouted. "How do I - "

Suddenly I felt so warm, so snug.

I gazed down at the ground - my body wasn't there.

I'm back to being me! I realized. I'm not dead anymore.

I stood up and tested it. Wriggled my hands. Bent my knees. I coughed.
Laughed. Shook my whole body.

It felt so wonderful to be me again!

"Only one hour," I reminded myself.

I stepped up to the cliff wall, dug my hands into the hard, rocky dirt,
and started to pull myself up to the top.

I was about halfway up when I heard the furious animal snarls.

80

21

The snarls became an angry howl. My heart stopped. I clung to the side
of the ravine.

Two animals now, growling furiously.

I recognized the sound. Mr. Benson's attack dogs.

Were they waiting for me at the top?

I pulled myself up higher. My legs trembled so hard, I nearly toppled
back down.

Above me, the dogs growled and barked angrily. Darkness rolled over me
as the moon vanished behind clouds once again.

Rocks crumbled at my feet and fell to the ravine's bottom. I heard them
hit the ground below. And again, I pictured myself falling, falling to
my death.

82 I shook away the image and I forced myself to the top.

The shrill howls of the dogs sent chill after chill down my back. I
stepped onto the flat ground - and prepared myself for their attack.

No.

No dogs waiting. No dogs tensed for attack at the ravine's edge.

Mr. Benson's old house rose up darkly in front of me. The angry dogs
were inside.

Above their howls, I heard a terrified cry. A human cry.

Cal?

Was Cal still in the house? Did time stand still while I was on the
other side?

I lurched across the backyard, my shoes slipping on the frosty, wet grass.

Another hoarse cry of terror floated out from the open kitchen window.

Yes. Cal.

I recognized Cal's voice.

I dove to the window. Leaned over the ledge and peered into the dark house.

The two sleek gray dogs, snarling and barking, had Cal backed into a
corner. He had his hands raised in front of him, as if trying to shield
himself.

The dogs bared their teeth. One of them angled back on its haunches,
preparing to leap.

Cal lowered his hands. His eyes met mine.

84 "Brandon!" he gasped. "Where did you go? Help me! Hurry!"

I lifted myself over the window ledge.

"Help me!" Cal pleaded. "They're going to tear me to pieces!"

I landed hard on my feet on the kitchen floor. "What can I do?" I cried.

"Get them off! Get them away!" Cal shrieked.

"I - I'll try!" I stammered.

I took a few steps toward the angry dogs.

One of them turned and bared its teeth at me, a deep growl bursting from
its throat.

And then the other one swung around, its eyes glowing red. Both dogs
studied me now. Cal stayed pressed in the corner, his big chest heaving
up and down, his arms still raised as a shield.

Low, menacing growls from both dogs.

"Whoa - " I murmured.

They moved quickly.

Lowering their heads, they shot across the room - and sprang at me!

[83]

22

I tried to duck under them.

Too late.

Heavy paws hit me hard. My chest. My shoulder.

I staggered back against the sink.

And howled in pain as one of the snarling creatures sank its teeth into
my ankle.

As I slid to the floor, I glimpsed Cal frozen in the corner, his eyes
wide with fright.

"Run!" I screamed. "Get out of here! Go!"

A dog leaped at me again. Pushed me onto my back on the floor. The other
dog tore at my jeans cuff.

"Get out of here!" I shouted again.

Finally, Cal moved. He took a few unsteady steps toward the back door.

85 "Go!" I shrieked as both dogs tore at me with their teeth.

"B-But ... you?" Cal stammered.

"Don't worry about me!" I cried. "You can't help me! Get out! Out!"

He hesitated another second. "I'll get help," he said.

He shoved open the back door with both hands and disappeared outside.

A dog paw slashed across my face. Twisting and pulling, the other dog
tore at my jeans.

Gasping, I struggled to wrestle free.

They won't stop until they've torn me apart, I realized. I'll never be
able to save anyone!

I've got to get them off me. I have to find a way to distract them.

I kicked out at the snarling dog at my feet.

It uttered an enraged howl - and dug its teeth harder into my jeans leg.
Over my gasping breaths, I heard a loud RRRIP as the creature pulled the
jeans apart.

The other dog stood on my chest, pinning me to the floor.

How can I distract them? I asked myself. How?

And then I spotted the trick-or-treat bag on the kitchen counter. The
bag Cal and I had taken from the little kid.

There was still some candy in the bag, I remembered.

86 And dogs like candy - right?

In my panic, my mind whirred from thought to thought.

Get the bag to the dogs. Show the candy to them.

Maybe ... maybe they'll go for the candy. Maybe they'll let go long
enough for me to escape.

The kitchen counter stood in the middle of the room. Miles away ...

With a groan, I shoved the big dog off my chest.

I rolled onto my side.

Then I kicked out hard with both legs. Kicked the other dog off me. It
tilted up its head, roaring in rage.

I rolled again. Jumped to my feet.

Dove for the counter.

Yes. Yes!

I grabbed the bag in both hands - and heaved it to the floor.

The bag landed on its side. Candy bars rolled onto the floor.

Would the dogs go for it? Would they go for the candy?

I stared at the floor as they approached it. Sniffed it.

No. No. No ...

Snarling furiously, they stepped over the candy - and bared their teeth,
red eyes glowing, preparing to attack me again.

87 "Nooooo!" I let out a howl of terror. As the dogs leaped, I dove to
the floor. I grabbed a candy bar in each hand.

And tossed them in the air.

I rolled away as both dogs jumped up, snapping their jaws at the flying
candy.

The dogs caught the candy bars in their teeth. They finally stopped
growling as they bit down. Started to chew.

Yes!

I saw my chance. I bolted for the open door. As I ran, I scooped two
more candy bars off the floor and tossed them to the dogs.

"Trick-or-treat, guys!" I choked out.

And then I was gone. Out the door and running full speed around the side
of the house.

88 "Cal?" I called to him as I burst down the steeply sloping front
lawn. "Cal? Are you still here?"

I didn't see him.

I didn't stop running. I raced into the street, glancing back to see if
the dogs were coming after me.

No. Not yet.

I turned and ran down the block. Crossed a street. And kept running.

One down, I thought. One frightened person saved.

How much time do I have left?

I stopped beneath a street lamp to check my watch. I raised it to my
eyes and stared.

"Oh, no." A sigh escaped my throat as I saw that my watch had stopped.
The second hand stood frozen at twelve.

I shook the watch. Pounded it against my wrist.

It wouldn't move.

Did the watch break when I fell down the ravine? I wondered. Or did time
stop when I died?

No time to think about it. I had to save two more people. And I had to
do it fast.

I saw a group of costumed kids running eagerly to a house across the
street. They were laughing and joking with each other. One boy was
stuffing his face with candy - right through a monster mask.

Kids having fun, I thought sadly.

89 They rang the doorbell and yelled, "Trick-or-treat!" Watching them, I
wondered if I would ever have fun again. If I would ever be normal
again. If I would ever be alive ...

A wave of despair washed over me. I can't do this, I decided. I might as
well give up now.

Where will I even find frightened people I can help?

It's Halloween night. Everyone is out having fun. No one is in trouble.

Two kids in vampire costumes came roaring by on bikes, their capes
flying up behind them. I jumped into a hedge to get out of their way.

They laughed and kept pedaling hard.

I shook my head sadly. I'll go home, I decided. I'll take one last look
at my house. At my family.

I don't know how much time I have left. Probably just enough time to say
goodbye.

I trudged around the corner and started down the next block. Lost in my
sad thoughts, I didn't pay much attention to the houses and yards I passed.

Glancing up, I found myself at a dead end. Woods stretched in both
directions. A dark, old house loomed between tangled trees.

The haunted house!

The house where Cal and I had abandoned Vinnie.

I stepped into the tall weeds at the front of the yard. And peered up at
the house.

90 Dark and silent.

A windowpane was missing in an upstairs window. The wind blew in,
fluttering dark curtains.

A TV antenna tilted over the roof like a broken bird. Part of the
chimney had crumbled away, leaving bricks scattered over the driveway.

Did something move in the front window? Did I see a flash of light? A face?

"Vinnie." I murmured his name.

Cal and I heard him scream, I remembered. But we left him there anyway.
We left him there and ran away.

Was Vinnie still here? Still in this frightening house?

I had to find out. I stepped through the tall weeds, making my way to
the front door.

The house had been empty for years. Clumps of grass and weeds rose up
nearly to my waist. I stumbled over rocks and old bottles and other junk.

All the neighborhood kids believed the house was haunted. Some of them
said they saw strange, shimmering lights in the house late at night.
Kids claimed they heard howls and moans that couldn't be made by humans.

Cal and I always had so much fun locking kids in the house. Were they
scared? Some of them still haven't stopped screaming!

That was back in the days when things were

91 still funny. Now, as I approached the house, I remembered the fun we
had - but I didn't laugh.

"Vinnie?" I called. My voice came out muffled, soft.

I stepped onto the rotting porch. The damp floorboards creaked and sank
under my shoes. "Vinnie?"

I heard something from inside. A moan? A cry?

I took a deep breath and pushed open the front door.

The attack came so fast, I couldn't even scream.

92 I heard a SCREE SCREE SCREE.

Something hit my forehead and bounced off.

Stunned, I stumbled back onto the porch.

I rubbed my head and heard frantic fluttering.

Shadows - many shadows - flew over me.

Bats!

Were they attacking?

Blinking away the pain, I heard the SCREE SCREE again. The fluttering
sounds had moved to the trees.

I waited for a moment, catching my breath. Then I peered cautiously
through the front doorway. The house seemed empty now.

The front room stood dark. I couldn't see a thing.

Holding on to the door frame, I stepped inside.

93 "Vinnie?" I called in a choked whisper. I cleared my throat and
called again. "Vinnie - are you here?"

"Brandon?"

My name floated to me, weak and hoarse, from somewhere deep in the house.

"Brandon - is that you?"

My eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness. I followed the sound of
Vinnie's voice, through a long, dark hallway that led straight back.

"Vinnie - where are you?" I called. My words echoed down the long hall.

"I'm back here," came his reply. "But don't come in. Don't come in,
Brandon!"

"Huh?" I let out a startled gasp.

"Get away as fast as you can!" Vinnie warned in a trembling, little
voice. "It - it's so big, Brandon. And so ugly."

I stopped at a closed door at the end of the hall. "What is big?" I
called in.

"Go away!" Vinnie cried from the other side of the door. "It's too late
for me. But you can still escape."

I raised my hand to the cold doorknob. "Escape from what, Vinnie?" I
demanded.

I waited. A shiver ran down my back. A gust of cold air from somewhere
in the house chilled me all over.

"Vinnie?" I called in.

I waited again. Then I turned the knob and

94 pushed in the door. I stepped into a dark room cluttered with old
furniture. Couches and tall chairs, most of them covered in sheets and
blankets.

I blinked in the gray light.

"Don't - " Vinnie cried.

He sat hunched on a tall, stiff wooden chair.

I squinted to see if he was tied down. No. Nothing holding him there.

"Come on," I urged, waving him over to me. "Let's get out of here."

"I ... can't," he choked out. His face was twisted in fright. He had
chewed his bottom lip until it bled.

"Hurry. Come with me!" I cried.

"I can't!" he cried. "It ... won't let me leave."

"There's nothing here," I argued. "The house is empty. Come on, Vinnie - "

"It's here!" he whimpered. "It's a ghost. The stories are true, Brandon.
Only, it's more horrible than you can imagine. It's not like a movie
ghost. It - "

He stopped short, and his eyes bulged with fright. He raised a trembling
finger to his lips.

I listened. And I heard it.

I heard heavy, rhythmic thuds from behind me in the long hall. Echoing
thuds.

Such heavy, steady footsteps.

Closer ... closer.

95 "Get away," Vinnie moaned. He clasped and unclasped his hands.
"Hurry, Brandon."

"Not without you," I told him.

The footsteps thudded in my ears.

"No. Run - before it's too late!" Vinnie cried in a terrified whisper.

A heavy thud made me spin around.

It was too late!

96 Vinnie didn't move. He sat hunched in the stiff chair, trembling, his
hands tightly clasped.

THUD. THUD.

Heavy footsteps made the floorboards creak.

I dove behind a couch and dropped to my hands and knees.

"Vinnie - hide!" I whispered.

He didn't move.

My hand bumped something hard and cold. I gasped.

Only a flashlight.

I rolled it out of my way and peered out from behind the couch.

And stared at a ghost.

A man. A very large man. Dressed in a loosely

97 flowing robe. All gray from head to foot. No color. Gray hair, gray
eyes, gray skin, gray robe.

Gray bare feet slapped the floor as he moved across the room. THUD. THUD.

I froze behind the couch, gaping in amazement. And as the gray ghost
moved closer, I saw that his head was split. Split in half, right down
the middle. As if a hatchet had sliced his skull.

The gray eyes rolled wildly on each side of the crack. His nose was
split in two. The crack ran down past his lips and stopped at his chin.

As he stepped into the gray light and lowered his head toward Vinnie, I
could see inside his skull.

I could see gray brains, bubbling, bubbling inside the opening in the
skull.

His belly bouncing beneath the robe, the huge, ugly ghost lowered his
cracked head. Brought his face close to Vinnie.

What is he going to do? I wondered.

I have to save Vinnie. I have to frighten away that ghost.

But how?

On my hands and knees behind the couch, I watched the ghost lower his
face to Vinnie. "Unh ... unh ... " The split lips opened in a low grunt.
"Unh ... "

Vinnie whimpered in terror. He sat trembling on the chair. Staring
straight ahead.

Suddenly, I had an idea. A desperate idea.

98 Maybe a stupid idea. But the only idea I had.

I'll try going headless, I decided. I'll pop out headless and rush at
the big ghost. Maybe ... just maybe, it will startle the ghost long
enough for me to pull Vinnie away.

I sat down on the floor. My hands trembling, I pulled my coat up over my
head and zipped it all the way.

I hesitated. If this doesn't work, I thought, I might be headless forever.

My head was hidden beneath my coat. I couldn't see a thing.

But I didn't need to see. I could hear the ghost's disgusting grunts. I
knew where it was standing.

I took a deep breath.

Then I jumped to my feet, shot my arms out at my sides, and burst out
headless into the room, shrieking as I ran.

99 My cry echoed off the walls.

Halfway across the room, I shot my head up through the top of the coat
to see.

The gray ghost stared at me, his split mouth open. On both sides of the
deep rut down his face, his gray eyes bulged.

He tossed back his ugly head and uttered a cry of his own.

And then he raised his hands to his jaw - and tugged the head off his
shoulders.

The head screamed. The eyes rolled crazily.

Holding the screaming head in both hands, the ghost raised it high over
his shoulders.

I staggered back. Whimpering in terror, Vinnie covered his face with his
hands.

Another shrill scream escaped the ghost's head.

100 And then to my shock, the big ghost turned away from us. Turned
heavily. And still holding up its screaming head, it staggered away.

It staggered heavily to the door. And disappeared into the long hallway.

I could hear the screams ringing through the hall, growing fainter and
fainter as the ghost retreated.

"Vinnie - " I gasped, diving to his chair. "Vinnie - I did it! I scared
him away!"

"No," he murmured. He still had his face buried in his hands. "No, you
don't understand."

"Huh? Let's go!" I urged, tugging Vinnie's arm. "Open your eyes! Get up!
Let's go! I scared away the ghost!"

"No," Vinnie said, finally lowering his hands. "No, Brandon." He shook
his head. "You don't understand. That wasn't the ghost."

"Huh?" I stared at him, totally confused.

"That wasn't the ghost," Vinnie repeated. "That was the ghost's pet."

101 My mouth dropped open. I stared at my cousin, trying to make sense
of his words. "P-pet?" I stammered.

Vinnie nodded, his face so pale and twisted in fear.

"Well, then ... where is the ghost?" I asked.

Before Vinnie could answer, I felt something move.

The floor.

The floor curled beneath my feet.

I heard a loud rumble - and the walls began to slide in - to close in on
us.

"What's going on?" I cried.

"Don't you see?" Vinnie wailed. "The whole house is the ghost! The whole
house is evil. It - it's been holding me here! It won't let me move!"

102 "Let's get out of here!" I started toward Vinnie. Reached out to
pull him from his chair - and the floor buckled.

I stumbled. Then fell to my knees as the floor turned soft. It seemed to
melt under my feet.

"I don't think I can make it over to you!" I cried.

"Don't try, Brandon. It's useless. We're doomed!" Vinnie wailed.

I crawled toward Vinnie - and the wooden planks beneath me rocked and
rolled, tossing me like a beach ball on an ocean wave.

"I'm not going to give up!" I dragged myself across the floor on my
belly. Inched my way toward Vinnie - and felt the floor heave up. It
hurled me across the room. Slammed me hard into the wall.

"Brandon - watch out!"

I rolled away from the wall - as it moved in on me.

I froze, terrified, as all the walls moved. Creaking loudly. Moving fast
now. Moving in to crush us to death.

"Vinnie, get out of that chair!" I cried. "We have to get out of here!"

"I can't," he wailed.

I reached out to the arm of a couch. Used it to pull myself up. Held on
to the couch as support to make my way to Vinnie.

The floor pitched violently. The couch bounced up and down as I clung to
it.

103 I inched my way forward.

The walls closed in. The room was getting smaller. Smaller.

If I stretch out my arms, I could touch a wall with each hand, I
realized with horror.

I glanced at Vinnie. He cowered in the chair. Frozen with fear.

I was almost there. Almost to Vinnie. Just a few feet away.

"Give me your hand, Vinnie!" I shouted as the floor hurled me backwards.

Vinnie shook his head no.

"Please, Vinnie! Do it! Give me your - "

"Oh, noooo!" Vinnie gazed up at the ceiling and moaned.

I stared up at it too - and saw it rumbling down toward me.

The floor quaked wildly - and sent me crashing to my knees. I fell hard
- on top of the flashlight. As the floor rocked, the flashlight rolled
away.

I stabbed my hand out, desperate for something to hold on to. And I
grabbed the flashlight.

Another frantic thought crashed into my terrified mind.

How will the ghost react to light?

Ghosts live in darkness, don't they? I asked myself.

This house is so dark.

If I shined the light ...

104 Could I force the ghost to retreat? Could I distract it long enough
to let Vinnie and me escape?

Light. Yes ... light.

The floor bounced me against the wall. The ceiling was inches away from
my head now.

In front of me, Vinnie's chair spun, whirling faster and faster. Vinnie
gripped the chair arms, and spun so fast, he became a blur.

"Help ... ," he murmured weakly. "Oh, help ... "

"No!" I gasped as the flashlight bounced out of my hand.

I dropped to the pulsing, curling floor - and grabbed it again.

It's worth a try, I told myself. It's our only hope.

I slid my hand up the side of the flashlight - and clicked it on.

And cried out in horror when nothing happened.

The batteries were dead.

"No! No! No!" I screamed, so frustrated and angry.

I slammed the flashlight against the floor.

And the light flashed on.

It flickered, weak at first. I shook the flashlight hard, and the light
brightened.

Struggling to stand on the throbbing, tossing floor, I raised the
flashlight and swept the beam of light over the wall.

Would it work?

105 To my surprise, the wall pulled back. I moved the light beam to the
floor. I uttered a happy cry as the floor stopped moving and flattened out.

"Yes! Yes!" I shrieked.

I turned and beamed the light at Vinnie's chair - and the chair began to
shrink.

Vinnie jumped up. "It let go of me!" he cried.

The chair shrank lower, lower - and vanished into the floor.

"Let's go!" I cried.

I grabbed Vinnie's hand and ran, pulling him to the door.

The walls began sliding in on us again. But I swung the beam of light
from wall to wall, and they dropped back into place.

106 We ran through the door. And down the long hall.

And seconds later, we were back outside, back in the cool, fresh air.
Running, running hard, away from the haunted house, down the street
still filled with shouting, laughing trick-or-treaters.

I've saved two frightened people, I realized.

I have only one more to go. But I know there can't be much time left.
Maybe only minutes ... or seconds!

Vinnie and I ran until we reached his house. He thanked me for saving
him. Thanked me again and again.

But I hardly listened. My brain was whirring.

How can I save someone else? What can I do?

I watched Vinnie go running into his house. Would his parents believe
his wild story? Probably not. But I didn't have time to worry about that.

I needed to rescue one more person. If only I knew how much time was
left ...

107 "Leave me alone!"

"Huh?" I turned and saw a group of costumed kids across the street.

"Leave me alone!" my sister Maya screamed again.

Some big, tough-looking kids had Maya and her friends surrounded. I saw
one of them push Maya's friend and grab her trick-or-treat bag.

Another big guy grabbed my sister's arm and twisted it behind her back.

Maya let out a frightened cry.

I'll scare these guys away, I decided, and I'll have my three rescues.
I'll be okay. I'll be alive!

I slid my head under my coat. The old headless gag should do it, I told
myself.

I zipped the coat over my head. Then I tore

108 across the street, screaming, "My head! My head!"

I heard laughter.

"Brandon - stop joking! Help us!" Maya wailed.

I poked my head up. The tough kids were laughing at my headless trick.
They weren't scared at all.

Now what? I asked myself.

One of them - a big, powerful-looking kid with red hair standing
straight up on his head like a broom - grabbed the front of my coat.
"What do you want to do with him, Chris?" he asked one of his pals.

"I like him better without a head," a blond boy, wearing blue sunglasses
despite the darkness, replied with a sneer.

"Let's take off his head," the red-haired guy said, tightening his grip
on me.

"L-let me go," I stammered. "And leave the girls alone too. Pick on
someone your own - "

"Shut up, geek!" the red-haired boy bellowed.

"Make him climb that tree," another boy suggested.

They grabbed me and shoved me roughly against the tree trunk.

"No - please," I begged. "I don't have time. You have to let me go. I - "

If they force me up the tree, I won't stand a chance, I realized. I
won't be able to rescue anyone. And I'll go back to the other side ...
forever.

109 "Get up there," the boy named Chris barked. "Start climbing."

"No - " I tried to squirm away.

But they were too strong. The red-haired boy pushed me back against the
tree. "Climb! Fast!"

I'm doomed, I realized.

I'm dead.

And then - something really horrible happened.

110 "Get up that tree. All the way to the top!" The red-haired boy gave
me another shove from behind.

I felt his hand push my shoulder - and then ... and then ...

I felt my shoulder slide off.

The shoulder slid forward and then started to fall.

I uttered a startled gasp as my head slid off. My shoulders ... my chest ...

I stood and stared, so confused. I watched my body crumple to the grass.
It sprawled onto its side and didn't move.

I stood there in amazement - staring down at my body.

Staring until I finally realized what had happened.

111 Time was up!

The hour had ended. I failed. Failed! Once again, I'd slipped from my body.

And now I stood gazing down at myself in horror.

A scream made me look up.

The tough guys were staring at me with bulging eyes. They gaped down at
my fallen body - and then up at me.

And then they tossed back their heads in horrified screams.

They all were screaming now - the tough guys, Maya, and Maya's three
friends.

Then they all spun away from the terrifying sight, staggering and
stumbling, desperate to get away.

I watched them run screaming down the street. The boys went one way.
Maya and her friends headed for our house.

"I did it!" I cried out loud. "I saved three people! I rescued three
frightened people! I did it! I did it!" I knew that the hour had already
ended, but I hoped Norb would give me a break.

I hid my body under a bush. "I'll be back for you in a minute!" I told
it happily.

Then I took off, running to the ravine. "I did it!" I announced at the
top of my lungs as I made my way past Mr. Benson's house. "I did it! I
saved three people!"

I stopped at the edge and peered across. "Hey,

112 Norb!" I shouted. "Norb - where are you? I did it! I'm back!"

Out of the darkness, Norb appeared on the other side. He still wore the
ugly monster mask. He waved to me. "Jump across, Brandon," he called.
"Hurry. You can do it. Jump across."

"Okay," I agreed. I stepped back and took a running start. At the edge
of the ravine, I leaped - and made it easily to the other side.

"Welcome back," Norb said, his eyes studying me from inside the mask.

"I did it!" I exclaimed. "I saved three frightened people. Now get me
back inside my body!"

Norb laughed. "Oops - just joking!" he declared.

I gaped at him. "Huh? What did you say?"

"Oops - just joking!" he repeated. He laughed harder.

The other masked kids suddenly appeared behind him. They were laughing too.

"But you said - " I pleaded.

"Oops - just joking!" Norb cried gleefully.

I swallowed hard. I was trembling so hard, I could barely speak. "You
mean - ?" I choked out.

"Don't you get it, Brandon?" Norb asked. He reached both hands up - and
tugged off his mask.

"Nooooo!" I let out a scream as his face came into view.

My face!

I stared at my face!

113 Norb tossed back his head and laughed. "Happy Halloween!" he
shouted. "Happy Halloween, Brandon!"

And then he reached both hands up and pulled off the face.

It was a mask! Only a rubber mask!

And underneath ... nothing but air. He was headless!

"This year, I dressed up as you," Norb said. His voice seemed to come
out of nowhere. "Didn't you guess? Didn't you figure it out when I told
you my name - Norband? It's Brandon. I just moved the letters around!"

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

The other kids all laughed. And then they too pulled off their masks.

I groaned. Their faces were all decayed, crumbling. Rotting away.
Patches of green skin clinging to yellowed bone. Empty eye sockets.
Slack jaws with missing teeth ...

"You're all dead," I choked out.

"And so are you," Norb said softly. "You're one of us now, Brandon.
You're one of us forever."

I stared at him, letting it all sink in.

They played a joke on me, a Halloween joke.

There was never a chance I'd get my body back.

A long sigh escaped my throat. I narrowed my eyes at Norb. "Well ...
it's still Halloween, right?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied.

114 "And we're all dead, right?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied again.

"So, come on!" I cried, slapping him on the back.

"Let's cross over to the other side and do some serious scaring!"

The End