Trick or Trap Page 10
“Ben never shares anything,” Jenny pouted. She made a wild swipe for the candy in her brother’s hand. But he snatched it away from her. “Get your own, Stink Head.”
“Ben, don’t call names on your birthday. You’re five now. You have to act more like a gentleman.”
“No, I don’t,” Ben insisted. “I don’t even know what that means.”
Mrs. Renfro had to laugh. She brushed a hand through Ben’s curly brown hair. Ben was stubborn, but he knew how to make her laugh.
“Mom, don’t laugh. He isn’t funny,” Jenny said.
Jenny loved scolding her mother. And she seldom let Ben bully her. Even though they were twins and looked alike, Jenny was already an inch taller than her brother.
Mrs. Renfro heard a shout and turned to the sound. All around the living room, the five-year-old party guests were smearing chocolate on their cheeks and chins. I guess the little candy bars were a bad idea, Mrs. Renfro thought. I should have bought M&M’S.
She pushed her way through the room. “What was the shouting about?” she asked.
Anna Richards, in a frilly pink party dress, pointed to the chubby boy with short black hair at the coffee table. “Jonathan spilled his apple juice,” she reported. “He’s a klutz.”
Mrs. Renfro squinted at her. “Anna, where did you learn that word?”
“From Sesame Street.”
Jonathan Sparrow lived across the street. He and Ben and Jenny had playdates all the time. Now he was staring at a dark, wet spot on the front of his denim overalls.
“Don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Renfro said. “It’ll dry.”
“I spilled on the table, too,” Jonathan said, avoiding her eyes.
She hurried to the kitchen to get paper towels. On her way back to the living room, the man with the long white beard stopped her. He wore a silky purple robe that came down to the floor. A tall, pointed red cap. And he had a long purple scarf wrapped around his neck.
“Is it time for the show?” he asked.
Mrs. Renfro nodded. “Good idea. Before it gets really messy in here!”
“Five-year-olds love chocolate,” he said, scratching his beard.
She sighed. “I never should have given it to them.” She waved the paper towels. “First, let me mop up a spill. Then we’ll get started.”
She hurried back to the living room. She glimpsed Jenny sitting cross-legged on the floor. Jenny had three candy bars in her lap. She always found a way to beat Ben.
Where was Ben? Wrestling on the rug with a red-haired boy from his kindergarten class.
“Let’s all sit on the floor! Hurry!” she shouted. “Everyone sit down and face the fireplace. We have a surprise for you.”
They were excited about the surprise, but it still took ten minutes to get them all seated. “Quiet, everyone!” Mrs. Renfro said. “Be very quiet. You don’t want to miss the fun.”
Ben and Jenny couldn’t wait to find out what the surprise was. Mrs. Renfro smiled at their eager faces.
What a great idea it was to have this show, she thought.
Mrs. Renfro didn’t know the horror was about to begin.
The man with the long white beard stepped quickly to the front of the room, swirling his long purple robe. “I am Wizzbang the Wizard!” he declared. His shout startled Ben, who bounced on the floor beside his sister.
“I have some magic to show you!” the wizard shouted. “Does anyone want to see some magic?”
The kids obediently cried yes.
Ben squinted at the wizard, who moved rapidly from side to side, his robe swishing over the rug. What was that in his long beard? A black spot that appeared to be moving.
Was that a spider in his beard?
Ben shivered. He didn’t like spiders. Once, a spider got into his bed and crawled under his pajama shirt while he was just falling asleep. It didn’t bite him, but Ben felt itchy every time he thought about spiders.
“Here comes the magic!” Wizzbang exclaimed. “Watch carefully, everyone.”
Ben forced himself to look away from the black spot in the wizard’s beard. He reached over Jenny and punched Jonathan on the shoulder.
“Shhh.” Jonathan raised a finger to his lips. “I’m watching.”
Wizzbang reached a hand under his robe and pulled out a tall marionette. She had a sparkly tiara on her head and was dressed in a long blue ball gown. It took Wizzbang a few seconds to get her strings untangled. They were attached to crisscrossed wooden control sticks. He sorted them out and made her stand up straight.
“This is the princess!” he announced. He leaned over the puppet. His long beard brushed the top of her tiara. Using both hands on the sticks, he made her take a few steps toward the audience.
“The princess is not a puppet. She is a marionette. But when Wizzbang the Wizard pulls her strings, she comes alive.”
Ben stared at the princess as Wizzbang made her do a graceful dance. “She’s almost as tall as we are,” Jenny said.
“So what?” Ben replied. Jonathan laughed.
“Be quiet,” Jenny snapped.
Ben watched the puppet dip and glide. Her eyes looked like real people eyes. Her lips were painted in a pale red smile. Beneath the tiara, her straight blond hair looked real, too.
Wizzbang pulled a string and made her raise one hand above her head. Then he moved the string, and her hand bobbed up and down as if she were waving to the kids.
“The princess has come from far away to wish happy birthday to Ben and Jenny,” the wizard said. He made the marionette walk up to Ben. Her glassy eyes appeared to gaze down at him.
Ben raised himself to his knees. He took the puppet’s small hand and pretended to shake hands with her.
Some kids laughed. But not for long.
The princess dipped suddenly. Her head dropped. Her mouth opened. And her wooden jaw clamped tight over Ben’s shoulder.
He let out a cry of pain.
He tried to shake the puppet off. But her jaw tightened even harder, biting into his skin.
“It HURTS!” Ben screamed at Wizzbang. “Take her OFF me! It hurts. It REALLY hurts!”
Wizzbang’s mouth dropped open. “I-I don’t understand,” he stammered.
He let go of the strings and wrapped both hands around the puppet’s head. After a short struggle, he pulled the puppet off Ben.
“It … really … hurts …” Ben murmured. He was trying hard not to cry. He didn’t want to cry on his birthday in front of all the kids. He rubbed his shoulder, but the pain kept shooting down his whole body.
“What happened?” Ben heard his mother ask. She was standing behind the kids, at the doorway to the dining room.
“The strings must have gotten tangled up,” Wizzbang said. “And the mouth got stuck. Sorry, Ben.” He rubbed Ben’s shoulder. “Not to worry. I have another puppet.”
He returned a few seconds later with a new puppet. This one had a crown on his head and wore a flashy leopard-skin robe.
“Say hello to the sultan,” Wizzbang said. “He’s the king.”
Ben was still rubbing his shoulder. He heard a few kids talking about the puppet that bit him. They sounded scared.
“Ben, I’m sorry about the princess,” the wizard said. “It was a bad accident. But you’re okay, right?”
Ben nodded and muttered yes under his breath.
“These puppets are really fun to operate,” Wizzbang said. “Would anyone like to stand up and work the sultan?”
No one raised a hand. The room grew very silent.
“It’s very simple,” Wizzbang said. “You pull the strings. Just like this.” He made the sultan bow. Then he pulled some strings and the puppet’s hands shot up in the air.
“Who would like to try it?” the wizard asked. “Jenny? You’re the birthday girl. Come up here and meet the sultan.”
Jenny climbed to her feet slowly. She glanced at Ben, then stepped up to the front of the room.
“Come closer,” Wizzbang said. “Why are you standing
so far away?”
Jenny frowned at the puppet. “Does he bite?”
R.L. Stine’s books are read all over the world. So far, his books have sold more than 300 million copies, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written the teen series Fear Street and the funny series Rotten School, as well as the Mostly Ghostly series, The Nightmare Room series, and the two-book thriller Dangerous Girls. R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and Minnie, his King Charles spaniel. You can learn more about him at www.RLStine.com.
Goosebumps book series created by Parachute Press, Inc.
Copyright © 2015 by Scholastic Inc.
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First printing 2015
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Cover art by Brandon Dorman
e-ISBN 978-0-545-63099-3
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